[Short Story] Tomorrow, Will Come

A ray of light piercing through the days of feeling trapped

A faint light was leaking through the gap in the curtains.
But there was no reason to get up.
It wasn't that I had a headache or a fever.

I just didn't want to do anything.
Even breathing felt like a chore, and I felt as if my heart was wearing down with every breath I exhaled.

"Am I... still alive today?"

My body sank into the bed.
The duvet felt like a heavy rock.

I didn't want to see anyone.

I was afraid of having my voice heard.
I didn't want the world to find out that I couldn't even smile.

Every time my smartphone notification sounded, my chest would churn, and I couldn't bring myself to reach for it.
──I'm being left behind.
The reason I think that way is because I'm not trying to do anything.

But even knowing that, I can't.
Words like "you don't have to try your best" are actually painful for someone who can't try.

I feel like I have to try hard even at "not trying," which makes me even less able to move.

…That was when my eyes caught sight of the teddy bear lying by the bed.
One ear was nearly torn off, and its fur was matted.
But for some reason, when I stared at it, I smelled something slightly nostalgic.

"I managed not to throw this one away..."
I pulled the teddy bear close and quietly closed my eyes.

The back of my eyes felt warm.
I couldn't tell if it was tears or exhaustion.
──But for this moment, I felt like I was "connected to someone."

Something inside me "opened" just a little.
I tried saying it out loud.

"...Will tomorrow come?"
It wasn't a wish, but more like a confirmation.
I felt like the bear nodded quietly.

As if to say, "It will," as a matter of course.

🌱 From here on is your "Heart's Lab."
Ahead, the following will be depicted:
■ The tiny bit of courage the protagonist begins to have to believe in tomorrow

■ A record of quiet rebirth as they find new meaning in "living"
■ That helplessness "everyone has felt at least once" and the light born from it

🔹 If you are someone like this...

• You are afraid of the morning coming

• Being told "it's okay" actually makes you feel worse

• You have experienced getting through the day because of someone's words

• You have been saved by "words"
🔸 If you read this...



• You can feel a little relieved knowing "you weren't the only one"

• Your heart will quietly warm up
• You will want to try believing in "tomorrow" just a little bit
• By the time you finish reading, you will want to take a deep breath
💌 "Heart's Lab" Membership
Including this work, I am updating:



• Stories that stay close to depression, anxiety, and loneliness
• "Night words" that settle the heart
• Small, deep realizations you won't find in books
──are being updated.
👉 Become a member

Where does "tomorrow" come from?

I stretched my legs toward the window.
I placed my hands on my shaky knees and stood up gently.

When I opened the window, the sky was bluer than I thought, and the wind was gentle.
Ah──

The world was moving along just fine, even while I was stopped.
When I thought that, I felt a little frustrated.

What had I been doing?
No, I couldn't do anything.
On the desk was a dusty notebook.

On the open page, words written by my past self.
"I'll go eat pancakes on my birthday next year."

…I didn't make it.

But the me from back then was certainly thinking about "tomorrow."
"So, what will you do this year?"
It was me who asked.

I felt like the teddy bear tilted its head.

That's right.

Anything, even something small, is fine.

Go smell the bakery.
Sit on a bench and look up at the sky.

Buy a warm tea at the convenience store.
Isn't that enough to count as "having lived today"?
For the first time, I gave myself a small nod.

Instead of counting what I couldn't do, I'd count what I could do today.
And then, I said it out loud again.

"Tomorrow will come."
──This time, it was a conviction.

[Afterword]

"Tomorrow" isn't always kind.
But just knowing that "tomorrow" will come allows people to look forward, even if just a little.
I hope this story becomes a bridge that connects to your "tomorrow."

If this story reached your heart even a little, I'll be waiting for you at "Heart's Lab" with the next "words."
At your own pace, in your own rhythm.