3:12
The intercom woke me up.
No earplugs tonight. It's Golden Week, ten days off in a row this year because of the new emperor, and I've been sleeping without them since there's no alarm.
The chime is two notes, pin-pon. I lay there not sure if I'd dreamed it. The green clock on the microwave said 3:12.
The little screen by the door was still lit. It shows the walkway outside: the railing, the corridor light, the top of the stairs. The light was on. Nobody there.
I didn't open the door.
Everyone at work has gone somewhere for the holiday, Okinawa, Taiwan, their parents'. I'm here because Golden Week flights cost double and I've only just paid a deposit.
It's almost half past three. I'm going to lie down and listen.