Episode 1: Echoes left in empty room

In a large town a girl named Akira trudged through the school gates,her backpack heavy with unfinished homework. It was just another day in the blur of highschool, where being "that quiet girl" meant being invisible. But in her sketchbook, hidden between worn pages,her worlds came a live stories of friendship, adventure,and a family that never exist in reality.

As she settled into her seat, Akira's fingers instinctively touched her sketchbook deeper into her bag. Her mom's words from last night echoed in her mind.

"Focus on your studies,Akira. Art won't pay the bills." The same argument every day.

But today something felt off. The empty lunch box she'd packed for her self seemed heavier, a reminder that her mom had skipped breakfast again. The teacher's voice faded into the background as Akira's eye drifted to her desk. A corner of her sketchbook was scribbled with a tiny drawing, a girl with a backpack standing alone on a train. The girl looked a lot like her.

As she walk home from school, the autumn air thick with humidity, Akira kept her head down. Don't draw attention. Don't exist. But footsteps echoed behind her, growing louder.

"Hey art geek!" A voice sneered. Kana and her friends blocked Akira's path.

"What's with the ugly drawing? Think you're on artist or something?" Kana snatched Akira's sketchbook flipping through pages. "This stuffs creepy."

Akira's face burned as they laughed. "Give it back." She whispered.

Kana's eyes landed on a sketch of Akira's mom fragile smile, eyes haunted by something unsaid. "Is this your mom? She looks like about to cry."

The girls laughed louder. "Maybe she's crying because she's stuck with a weirdo like you.

Akira's hand trembled as Kana tossed the sketchbook to the ground. "You're so pathetic, Akira."

The words cut deep, but it was the accident shove that Akira tumbling to the sidewalk, her palms scraping against rough asphalt.

Silence fell Kana looked shocked, but Akira didn't see it. She saw the tears she'd held back for week, month, years. The years she'd never let her mom see. Kana and her friends leave her alone, Akira pushed her self up, dusting off her skirt. The pain in her palms was nothing compared to the ache in her chest. She walked home in silence, the sketchbook clutched tight in her hand. When she opened the door, her mom was in the kitchen, fumbling with a broken cup.

"Akira, I'm sorry... I didn't make dinner." The words were a whisper.

Akira dropped her bag and walked past her, into her room. She locked the door and slid down, letting the tears come. Why couldn't her mom see her? Why couldn't her mom protect her? The drawing of the girl on the train track seemed to stare back at her, alone, lost, and forgotten.

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