Chapter 6 – A Broken Melody第6章 - 砕けた旋律
In the silence of the night, an answer was drawing near.
Daiki leaned over his computer screen, listening to the song Meyra had sung—again and again. A melody performed at sunset, shrouded in Istanbul's mist. The words weren't just echoes of a fading memory. They were encrypted. He could feel it. "I remember a breeze Wandering through streets with no nameEchoing in the voice of IstanbulYour eyes... always silent."Each metaphor in the lyrics seemed tied to shadows of the past. This wasn't just a song. As Meyra's voice echoed in his ears, Daiki could see that gray sky again—exactly as it had looked that day. Maybe she didn't even know it, but she had written the truth.
At the same moment, deep in an underground chamber… "When the wind changes direction, the cliff and the sea become one." Her father had said that once. And now… she stood at the edge. Her eyes narrowed. "They won't silence me," she whispered.
Asami tucked her daughter into bed before opening the message from Daiki. The line "Your eyes... always silent." — It could be a coded coordinate. There was a visual marker in the background of the Istanbul footage. Someone had left something for Meyra. Asami's face turned pale. And in her heart, a quiet suspicion began to bloom.
That night, Daiki traced the coordinates he had extracted from the video analysis. They pointed to an abandoned phone booth on the outskirts of a small town. He went there. On the booth's foggy glass was a faded music note—the same symbol. Beneath it, words scrawled in faint ink: "The Silence of the Emerald - Chapter I" And a file. Inside was an old intelligence report. On the first page—Meyra's father's name, and his own father's. On the second… Asami's husband.
Elsewhere, Meyra sat quietly against a cold wall. The melody from her dream of Istanbul played faintly in her mind. Her escape plan had begun. The darkness was not silent. And some melodies… were written in blood.The room breathed around her. The walls pulsed like lungs. The silence morphed into a piercing hum. There was no light. No time. Only thoughts. Meyra curled her knees to her chest and leaned her back against the wall. Fragments of a shattered song echoed from her lips. The melody she'd sung in her dream lingered still."While Istanbul weepsDon't leave me aloneThe last trace in my heartDon't let it be lost to the wind...""The last trace in my heart…" Her eyes suddenly lit up. There was a small charm—an amulet her father had given her years ago. It was hidden in her necklace, designed like an antique, its lid closed with a tiny magnet. She clutched it tightly. Slowly, she turned it open. Inside was a paper—so fine it barely qualified as one. Folded tightly, it held a single line: "To the one who believes, the path shall appear." Her father's words—he used to say it often. After reading the message, Meyra rested her head against the wall. As she closed her eyes, the world fell into silence. But this time… something was different. This wasn't an ordinary remembrance. It was a stage. A gameboard. A sudden ringing—sharp, surreal. And then, a whisper: "Let the game begin."A cold voice echoed—familiar, yet formless. When Meyra opened her eyes, she found herself in a room surrounded by mirrors. There was no ceiling, only darkness above. And every mirror reflected a different "Meyra."—One was crying... holding a broken piece of a violin bow.—Another was screaming... standing alone on stage, the microphone ripped from her hands.—A third had turned her back... and thrown the talisman to the ground.Then a voice spoke: "Which one are you?"Meyra moved forward, driven by instinct. When she touched one of the mirrors, the image flickered to life. A little girl sat at the edge of a bed, listening to her father's voice through an old recorder. Suddenly, the recorder stopped with a harsh click. The girl turned—and became a boy. The shock hit Meyra like a jolt: Maraz. Her lost twin. His face was pale. Blurred.The girl and boy watched other children in the mirror—images of a mother, a father, moments that had never been lived."Is it real... or just a story made up to protect you?" Just then, one of the mirrors cracked. From within, Hayato stepped out. There was no warmth in his eyes. In his hand, he held a puppet—its face was Meyra's. "Who did you think you'd choose, Meyra? Who did you believe was right? I tried to protect you. You couldn't handle the truth."Another mirror shattered loudly. Daiki walked through the shards in silence. He threw a piece of mirror to the ground. "You asked me to trust you just once. I did. Now tell me—do you trust yourself?" Meyra began to step back—but her eyes caught the mirror in the center. There stood herself. Dressed in white... but with a black line across her eyes—like a target mark. Her reflection spoke: "As long as you run from yourself, none of this is real. The moment you return to who you are... the game will end." Time felt warped in the mirror room. One by one, the mirrors had cracked— and the line between dream and reality had thinned to a breath. Meyra had collapsed to her knees, the talisman clutched in her hand, her eyes growing heavy.
Meyra's inner voice... That voice… That shadow… why does it always echo in my tone? Hayato. The one name I'm afraid to speak. I knew he had returned. But why now? Another crack echoed— but this time, the dark mirror didn't glow. Instead, only footsteps emerged from it— measured. Heavy. Controlled.
Meyra's inner voice... I memorized every word he ever spoke. Every touch. Every retreat. Those hands—once chose to destroy in order to protect. You've come again? Is it to silence me this time? But Hayato didn't step from a mirror—he emerged from the shadowed corner of the room. First his silhouette touched the floor. Then he himself came into view, slowly, from the darkness. His eyes carried familiar resolve— but beneath it, a crushed loneliness flickered. "I kept quiet for you, Meyra. I believed in you… But my silence tore you away from me." Meyra tried to rise, but her knees trembled. She could only lift her head.
Meyra's inner voice... This voice… It might only be my conscience speaking now. But the real Hayato? He's still out there— hidden behind a shadow. Hayato didn't approach. He kept his hands buried in his pockets. He just looked at her, for a long time. "You saw me as the enemy—I know. But when will you realize... that the real enemy is yourself?"
Meyra's inner voice... You were the only one I ever showed my wounds to... And yet you spilled the most blood. The day I believed in you— was the day I turned my back on every mirror. A silence followed. Time itself seemed to freeze. Then Hayato pulled something from his pocket. An old talisman. The very first model Meyra had worn around her neck as a child— long thought to be lost. "I couldn't save you that day. But maybe today... I can open a path for you to save yourself." He stepped back. And one of the mirrors began to glow again—this time, it didn't crack. At its center wasn't Meyra's past... but her future.
Meyra's inner voice… He's back… But I don't have to fight him anymore. Because now, I stand in the very center of my own war. And this time… I won't run. She stepped closer to the mirror. Her eyes closed. Hayato's voice had faded into a whisper now. "Make your choice, Meyra. I'll remain in the shadows… but you— you can live in the light." A storm of whispers roared, the darkness splintered— and when she opened her eyes, she was still there. In reality. But now… there was order in her mind.
Meyra recalculated each phase of her plan. She tried to mentally map her surroundings. Even after days inside, she'd forced herself not to lose track of time. Cold mornings, the sound of the metal door opening, everything followed a certain rhythm. The door always opened at the same hour. And the man who entered was always the same. Tall. Dark-skinned. Didn't speak Japanese. He wasn't local— and that worked in her favor. Her plan was simple: Cause a few seconds of distraction during his routine. Use a shard of metal on the floor to make a small cut, leave a smear of blood on the door— ignite panic. In that chaos, she'd shift the angle of the camera. Even just for a moment. "Father... if this plan fails, forgive me. Mother... the prayers you taught me now echo within me."Staying calm had been a reflex since childhood. She'd followed in her father's footsteps— not to hide, but to learn how to fight. "Sometimes, you just have to trust your heartbeat." She gripped the button in her pocket. A small, hidden trigger for the micro-transmitter she'd smuggled inside her bag. Tiny— but brilliant. The door opened again. This time, the man was visibly irritated. Something had gone wrong. But the blood trail was already in place. And as he bent down to examine it, the surveillance camera's view shifted— just for a few seconds. That was all she needed. Slowly, she crawled toward the old ventilation panel. She'd noticed a stripped screw hole earlier. Her fingers reached inside— a void. There might be only seconds before they noticed— but seconds were enough.And in that moment, she slipped into the darkness.
Far away in Tokyo, Daiki stared at his monitor. A signal flickered— weak, distorted… but there. A clear signature. A transmission from Meyra's device. His eyes narrowed. "Hold on... I'm close now. So close."
Asami With every passing minute, the old feelings returned— That day. The silence right before the crash. The night they told her her husband had died. She ran her fingers over the folded letter again. "If you're reading these words, it means I made a pact with the dark. To protect… something." Her hands turned ice cold. If she had read those words years ago,she might have left everything behind. But now— Meyra's disappearance made the truth far more dangerous. Because if Hayato was still alive, and still entangled in the same shadows, then Meyra might have been drawn into something far bigger than she'd ever imagined.
Daiki He had analyzed the coordinates countless times. The last trace of Meyra's signal had come from an abandoned subterranean site, just beyond the edges of Tokyo. But it was the exact location that haunted him— a decommissioned intelligence communications tunnel. Officially shut down years ago. Unofficially… still full of ghosts. "You're not alone, Meyra." He whispered to himself, the words echoing in his mind as he set out. From his bag, he retrieved a compact thermal scanner— a heat signal tracker designed for missions far beyond music halls and studios. Daiki was no longer just a musician. He had become the embodiment of truth hidden in the shadows of the past.
Meyra Her feet dragged forward, step by step, through rusted tunnels where every breath echoed like a fading memory.The air was damp. The pipes creaked above her, groaning with age. Her vision blurred. But inside her mind… a melody played. Faint. Familiar. Lyrics she had written long ago— in Istanbul. "I came with the voice hidden in shadowI echo through the nightI'm running from a dreamWhat you hear… is the same unending scream."These were the lyrics she had once whispered in her sleep. And now—she remembered. She had taken a photo the day she wrote those words. That photo… was stored inside her missing camera.
Somewhere, in a fragmented security feed, the moment of her abduction was frozen—just a few stolen seconds. And someone was watching. Hayato.Presumed dead for years, he was still cloaked in shadow, still bound by the pact he had once made. And in his hands…lay the lost encryption codes of the Zümrüd Operation —codes no one had ever managed to crack. A figure beside him leaned in and whispered: "That girl… she's the key. We have to decode it before she escapes." Hayato narrowed his eyes."Daiki is part of this. That means… he still remembers something."
Daiki He stood again at the site of her last disappearance, a single sheet of paper trembling between his fingers. Words he had never dared to write—until now. "If you can hear this voice… you're alive. When I first met you, you were the sound of the wind. Now you are the storm. But I'm here. The shadow grows, yes— but once light seeps in…no one can stop it." He rolled the message tight and tucked it into the hollow of a rusted pipe. He didn't know if it would ever reach her. But in his heart, he believed she would feel it— deep within the rhythm of her soul.
When Asami made contact with Daiki, the old version of herself began to awaken within. The reappearance of her husband, Hayato, illuminated not just a single truth, but also the emptiness inside her. Once, Asami had been an idealistic law student. Then everything fell apart, and she was forced to abandon her studies. Now, she was becoming a woman seeking justice in the shadows. Her voice trembled as she spoke: "If Hayato is still alive, the darkness he left behind could consume us all." Is Meyra's escape leading to an end—or serving a greater conflict? In the next chapter, we will lose ourselves in the labyrinth.