The mirror's surface shimmered and sealed with a soundless sigh as I stepped back into my room. Aboveground reality welcomed me once more—the low creak of familiar wooden boards beneath my feet, the faint hum of distant morning traffic.
Two hours of sleep. That was all I could spare.
No dreams.
Just silence.
I slipped into my school uniform, each button fastened with quiet precision. The fabric clung a little tighter than before, or maybe the weight I carried was pressing inward.
Downstairs, I found my parents seated in the living room, breakfast spread on the coffee table between them. The television played softly in the background, a morning news segment flickering across the screen.
"…police are still searching for the man believed responsible for the recent series of—"
My mother quickly reached for the remote and switched the channel. "These kinds of things aren't for you to see first thing in the morning," she said gently. "But you must always be aware. The world isn't always kind, even if you are."
I nodded, quietly accepting the toast she handed me. Diagonally sliced, like always.
"Thanks, Mom."
"Don't be late," my father added, though his eyes stayed on the screen as it shifted to a calmer news report.
"I won't."
When I stepped outside, Airi was waiting at the gate, her schoolbag slung casually over one shoulder. Her eyes found mine immediately, and a soft smile tugged at her lips.
"You look like you barely slept," she teased as I reached her side.
"Had a hard time shutting down my brain," I replied with a half-hearted laugh.
We walked together in companionable silence until the school came into view. Just before we entered the gate, she turned toward me slightly.
"You act way too shy around me sometimes," she said, her tone light but curious.
I blinked, feigning surprise. "Do I?"
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Mhm. Like you're constantly trying to come off innocent. But it's too perfect. Feels like… like a performance."
I met her gaze, my smile flawless. "Maybe I really am that shy. Around you, at least."
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, embarrassed but pleased. "You're impossible, Ren."
At school, everything ticked forward like clockwork. Laughter echoed through the halls, teachers greeted me with familiarity, and classmates played their parts in the theater of youth. I returned each gesture with practiced grace—gentle nods, soft smiles, kind words. All precisely calibrated.
"Yo, Ren!" called Takuya, the boisterous one with dyed hair. "Man, it's weird seeing you hold hands with someone. Didn't think you had it in you."
I chuckled. "It's not that unusual."
Airi leaned closer, looping her arm through mine. "He's full of surprises," she said sweetly.
"Yeah, yeah," Takuya rolled his eyes. "Guess I'll have to stop teasing you now. Or she'll kill me."
"Try it and see what happens," Airi replied with mock-seriousness.
We left him behind, laughter trailing in our wake.
When lunchtime came, we escaped to our usual sanctuary—the rooftop above the school, secluded and kissed by the scent of fresh petals from the sakura tree that leaned just beyond the fence.
"I like it up here," Airi said, placing the lunchbox in my lap. "Up here, you're more… honest."
"Maybe it's easier to breathe when we're above everything else," I murmured.
We ate in companionable silence for a while. Then, without warning, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine—slow at first, then deepening, purposeful. Her hand cradled my cheek, her thumb brushing my skin like she was trying to memorize its shape.
I returned the kiss.
Measured. Warm. Believable.
When she pulled away, her voice was softer.
"You know, sometimes I think there's a part of you no one ever gets to see. A world locked behind those eyes."
"There is," I admitted, not quite lying. "But you're already a part of it."
That answer made her smile. She rested her head against my shoulder, sighing contentedly.
If only she knew.
After school, beneath the fading sun, Airi kissed me goodbye at the gate—just a brief press of lips and a promise to text me later. I nodded, watching her walk away, her silhouette dissolving into the evening crowd.
When I returned home, I passed my parents' door without a sound and slipped back into my room. The mirror awaited. A touch of my hand and the glyph shimmered to life.
But I didn't go down.
Not yet.
Elira would still be sleeping in the base below, curled on the bed where she'd waited countless nights. She didn't know what lay beyond the sealed gates—had never seen the empire I'd built in my personal dimension. To her, I was a wanderer with a gift she could never fully grasp.
And she loved me for it.
But I felt nothing in return.
Airi thought she had my heart.
Elira believed she had my presence.
The goddesses, locked away in chambers across galaxies, dreamed of my attention.
But none of them had the truth.
Because the truth is a kingdom where no one else is allowed to tread.
And I… never give away keys.
--