Lyra was energetic beyond reason. I swear, she had tagged me at least ten times already. Ten. And she wasn't slowing down at all. I collapsed onto the grass, arms sprawled out like a defeated soldier. My chest heaved as I gasped for air.
"T-time out!" I shouted, holding one hand up in surrender, my breath ragged and hot. My limbs felt like they had turned to jelly. Onnie had surprised me. I honestly didn't think she'd be that fast, but she had kept pace the whole time, even outrunning me at some point. That stung a little more than I wanted to admit. Not gonna lie, I was kind of embarrassed.
A boy skidded to a stop near me, looking confused. "What's a timeout?"
I lifted my head, still trying to catch my breath. "What it means is I'm out. For now. Just... taking a break. You all are way too fast," I muttered, giving him a tired look.
"But you're it!" one of the girls shouted from a few feet away, throwing her arms up in protest. "That's not fair!"
I narrowed my eyes and let out a long, dramatic sigh. "You know what? I quit."
A murmur passed through the group. The kids looked around at one another, eyebrows raised. No one really protested. They just kind of... accepted it — probably expected — it with a collective shrug.
Then Onnie slowly raised her hand. "I-I quit as well," she said softly, her voice almost swallowed by the wind.
Lyra perked up and immediately turned to her. "Oh, come on, Onnie!" she said, jogging over. "You can't quit too! If one or two people quit, then the game gets all boring!"
Onnie froze, her shoulders rising as her fingers fidgeted against each other. She looked cornered, unsure of how to respond.
"I... I guess I could stay for a little while longer," she said, hesitant but sincere.
"That's the spirit!" Lyra beamed and gave her a light slap on the back. "Let's go again. I'll be it this time!"
She turned and yelled at the rest of the kids, and they all scattered like birds. Lyra took off after them with a wild grin.
Onnie lingered for just a moment, her head angled slightly in my direction. Her eyes were closed as always, yet I could somehow tell she was looking at me. Or at least trying to. Her face was full of apology, like she was silently telling me she was sorry for leaving me behind. Then she turned and ran after the others, her black hair bouncing behind her.
I watched her go. My head dropped back into the grass with a soft thud.
Lyra had stolen my one and only friend. Just like that. Unbelievable.
Still, I couldn't even blame her. Peer pressure is brutal. Especially at her age. You get pulled into the moment, and before you realize it, you're doing what everyone else is doing, whether you want to or not.
Soaked with sweat, my shirt clinging to my back, I dragged myself up and stumbled inside the house. The cool air inside greeted me like a long-lost friend. I peeled off my damp clothes and swapped them out for something fresh. After washing my hands and splashing some water on my face, I headed up to the second floor.
I passed my bedroom and stopped by the window. Down in the backyard, the game was still going. Kids ran in wide loops around the open space, laughing and yelling. A few adults were nearby, chatting among themselves with light smiles and easy voices.
I sighed and shook my head.
Then I turned and walked into the study room, which sat just across the hallway from my room. The space was quiet, filled with the faint scent of paper and wood polish. This was where Mother, Lyra, and I usually spent our mornings reading or doing lessons. I walked over to the wide window at the far end.
From here, I could see the front yard. Most of the adults were gathered there, talking and laughing in small groups. Mother and Father stood at the center of it all, engaged in cheerful conversation with their peers. To the left, tables had been arranged and covered in food. The whole setup was simple but warm, the kind of humble rural celebration that didn't need to be flashy to feel full.
Beyond them, the horizon stretched out, showing the scattered houses of our village. Lanterns flickered to life along rooftops and porches as the sky deepened into evening. The dirt path leading out of the village was slowly being swallowed by shadows. Nothing seemed out of place.
And yet, there I was. Alone again.
Alone.. with my thoughts.
Not that it was unusual. I had spent most of my life like this. Dark rooms, quiet corners, nobody knocking. I had gotten used to the silence. Embraced it, even.
But every now and then, the silence gave too much room for thoughts to crawl in.
I leaned against the windowsill, resting my arms on the wood. My eyes traced the line of the horizon again. I missed technology. I missed screens, electric lights, headphones, the internet. I missed air conditioning. God, I missed air conditioning. If I had only studied engineering or software instead of chemistry, maybe I could be doing something about that now. Maybe I could have figured out a way to bring even basic tech back into this new life..
But I hadn't. I had made plenty of wrong choices..
Ughhhhhh...
A bitter chuckle escaped me as I hung my head. My past life had been one bad decision after another. Just a long, depressing line of failures strung together with wishful thinking. I slapped a palm against my forehead, remembering all the shameful moments. All the things I could have done differently. Despite my dream jobs were taken by other people.. Other races that were better than me, I could've just.. not give up, and maybe my dream as a chemist could've been fulfilled.. But, I just.. gave up in the end and became a total loser.
"Ugh... Paul, you absolute idiot," I muttered, dragging my hand down my face.
When you're alone in a party like this, surrounded by joy but not part of it, you start thinking too much. You start remembering everything you wish you could forget. And no matter how much you try to distract yourself, it creeps back in. I groaned and gently knocked my forehead against the windowsill. The wood was cool against my skin, grounding me just enough to avoid spiraling too far.
Then I heard it. A voice, faint but clear, rising from the front of the house.
"Kyro!"
My eyes widened. I looked down through the window.. It was Onnie.
She stood just outside the door, her black hair reflecting the lantern light, her hands clasped politely in front of her.
"Onnie?" I blinked in surprise.
She smiled. "Can I come in?" she called, her voice soft but certain.
I stammered, caught completely off guard. "Uh… Y-yeah! Sure!"
I backed away from the window in a rush, nearly knocking over the small wooden table behind me. My heart pounded — not from embarrassment, but from the sheer surprise that she had called out to me. Just a few minutes ago, I had been sulking alone in my thoughts. Now they vanished like smoke in the wind.
I left the study room and moved quickly down the hall, eager to greet her at the front door. But by the time I reached the living room, she was already inside, standing there like a guest who wasn't sure if she was welcome yet.
"Welcome to my humble abode!" I announced, puffing my chest like I was some kind of grand host. My tone was playful, almost theatrical, though I knew I didn't fool her one bit.
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes still shut in that serene way of hers. She scanned the room with her senses, not needing sight to take in her surroundings.
"You live in a cute house," she said, her voice soft and genuine.
"Cute?" I raised an eyebrow. "Wait—does that mean your house is bigger than mine?"
She fidgeted, her fingers lightly twirling a strand of her hair. "M-mine's… yeah. I think my room might be bigger than your entire house."
My jaw nearly dropped. I coughed into my hand to mask my disbelief. "Well, look at you, Lady Royalty," I muttered under my breath, only half-joking. She gave a small smile but didn't deny it. A short silence followed before I broke it.
Strange, never really seen her house.. Nevermind.
"I thought you'd still be playing with Lyra and her whole crew out back," I said, scratching my cheek.
"Mmm… I kinda just slipped away," she replied with a small shrug.
For a moment, we simply stood there, looking at each other. Then, as if on cue, we both chuckled at the same time. It was light, easy, and surprisingly comfortable. Before I could say anything else, the front door creaked open again. This time, it was my mother. She stepped in carrying a stack of empty dishes. Her eyes scanned the room and landed on us.
"Oh, hello, Onnie. Kyro." she greeted, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
"H-hello, Kyro's mother," Onnie said with a small bow, her tone turning shy in an instant.
"Hi, Mom. Let me help you with those," I offered, moving toward her.
"No, no, I've got it," she said, already heading for the kitchen. I followed her with my eyes as she deposited the plates into the stone sink. She wiped her hands dry with a cloth tucked into her apron and came back to us.
Then she looked at Onnie again, and a knowing smirk crept across her lips. "Are you enjoying the party, Onnie?" she asked warmly.
"Y-yes, ma'am," Onnie replied quickly, bowing her head a little lower.
"My name's Reyna. You don't have to call me ma'am. Feel free to explore the house if you'd like. Just don't go into my room," she said, her voice teasing as she gave me a wink.
I shrugged.
She gave a soft laugh and waved us off. "Alright. Enjoy yourselves, you two."
After she left, Onnie and I exchanged glances before breaking into another smile. Whatever tension was in the air dissolved. Later, we found ourselves up on the roof, lying on the warm wood as the night breeze drifted gently over us. The stars above were clearer than anything I'd ever seen back in my old life. No city lights. No smog. Just endless clusters of silver against a canvas of deep indigo.
I lay flat on my back, hands behind my head. Onnie rested beside me, eyes closed as always, pretending to gaze at the stars with me. Of course, I knew she couldn't see them. Her mana sense could extend far, but not far enough to touch the skies. Maybe she could detect a flock of birds flying overhead, or feel the outline of the clouds, but space? That was too distant. Her mana would burn out well before reaching anywhere near the edge of the atmosphere.
Still, she made the effort to face the sky, as if she could picture it based on my words alone.
"That one over there is shining real bright," I said, pointing upward. I saw her head tilt slightly, following my gesture by sensing the shift in my arm's movement.
I pointed again, this time to the left. "And over there. Another glowing star."
"Woah…" she breathed, voice filled with wonder.
"And look! A comet!" I raised my arm high, tracing the faint trail it left in the night sky. Her face turned with me, her ears catching the excitement in my voice.
"That's so cool," she said softly.
We fell quiet after that, listening to the hum of distant laughter from the backyard and the gentle rustle of the wind. The stars above continued to twinkle like tiny spirits.
Then she spoke. "I read about stars in a book once. It said they're servants of the gods, placed in the sky to watch over us from the heavens."
I chuckled under my breath. Of course, it would say that. This world had its myths and legends —romantic, mystical explanations that I couldn't help but poke holes through.
"Mmm… not exactly," I replied. "Stars are… massive celestial bodies made of gas. Mostly hydrogen. They float around in space, and inside them, a process called nuclear fusion takes place. That's where hydrogen atoms fuse into helium, and that fusion releases a ton of energy. That's what makes them glow."
She turned her head toward me, her closed eyes showing surprise even without pupils.
I didn't stop. I was already rambling without me noticing.
"Stars are essential for life. Without them, the universe would be a cold, empty place. And like all things, they die too. Some shrink down into something called white dwarfs. Others explode and become black holes."
I glanced over to see if she was even following.
"Our sun is a star, too," I added.
There was a long pause. Onnie was staring at me — or at least, facing me — with a stunned expression. Her mouth was slightly open, brows slightly lifted. "The sun… is a star?" she asked slowly, as if trying to process the words.
We were silent for a moment before I scratched my head with an awkward glance. "Sorry. I guess I went overboard."
"No, no," she said quickly. "I'm actually really curious. Could you… explain more?"
I blinked, surprised. Most people would have tuned out halfway through, but she genuinely looked interested. She even scooted a little closer to me, eager for more.
Huh. She really was something else.
Smart. Curious. Always paying attention. It wasn't just the way she carried herself, or how quickly she picked up on things like chess or strategy games — it was the way she always wanted to learn more. Even if she couldn't see the world, she still wanted to understand it.
She was like me. For real, for real.
***
Laughter rumbled from the group of farmers gathered near the wooden fence, around nine of them. Including Thorskil and Saul. The scent of grilled meat lingered thick in the air, carried along by the soft evening breeze. Fireflies had begun to flicker across the fields, tiny lights dancing between shadows.
"You've got a fine swordsman, Thorskil," one of the farmers said with a hearty grin. "She really is your child."
"After all, she is your daughter," an off duty guard added, raising his mug. "It's only natural she'd turn out like that."
Thorskil smiled, pride settling comfortably in his chest. "Indeed she is. She makes me proud."
The men nodded, some chuckling, others murmuring in agreement. For a brief moment, the conversation lulled, filled only by the crackle of firewood and distant laughter from the yard.
Then Jyroh, the village captain, spoke up.
"So," he said casually, nudging Thorskil with his elbow, "how's your boy doing? I'm guessing he'll grow up swinging a sword like his old man, aye?"
Thorskil let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, he's doing just fine. Though I don't think the sword is within his talents. Not his path."
Jyroh raised an eyebrow, interest piqued. "Oh?"
"Magic," Saul said without hesitation, just besides Thorskil. "He's far better at that than sword fighting."
A farmer holding a mug of beer let out a surprised sound. "Ah, that explains it. He helped me once, you know. Watered my crops when the well ran dry. Didn't even complain. Truly a remarkable young lad."
"Is that so?" Jyroh hummed, stroking his chin. "Magic at that age. Not something you hear every day."
Thorskil's smile remained, though his eyes drifted briefly toward the darker edge of the village, where lantern light thinned and the road disappeared into shadow.
Jyroh noticed.
"…Speaking of which," he said, lowering his voice just a little, "there's something I should mention. Not to dampen the mood."
Thorskil noticed the shift immediately. His smile faded, just a little. "What is it?"
"Bandits," Jyroh said. "Scouts spotted traces on the outer roads. Tracks. Campfire remains. They've been seen more than once now."
Saul straightened. "Any attacks?"
"None," Jyroh replied. "That's what's strange. They simply watch from the distance."
Thorskil frowned, gaze drifting toward the darkened road beyond the lantern light."Like testing the waters."
"That was my thought," Jyroh said. "They know this village isn't helpless. Still, I wanted you to hear it from me."
A quiet moment passed. The crackle of firewood filled the gap.
"They won't try anything reckless," Thorskil said at last. "Not while they're unsure."
"And if they do?" Saul asked.
Thorskil's eyes hardened, just for a heartbeat. "Then they'll regret choosing the wrong village."
Jyroh watched him for a moment, then exhaled and lifted his mug. "Well. We'll keep patrols steady. No need to stir worry today."
Thorskil nodded. The tension eased from his shoulders as he looked back toward the celebration. "Good. Today's for Lyra."
Jyroh grinned. "Right you are."
Saul raised his mug. Others nodded as they raised their mugs as well. Thorskil laughed, his warmth returning as he clinked mugs with them. "To family."
-Kyro-
"Oh…!"
Onnie listened as I explained space, pulling together everything I could still remember. We remained seated on the roof of my house as the night stretched on. Stars shimmered across the dark sky, countless pinpricks of light scattered like spilled silver. Below us, the party was still alive with laughter and chatter, but it felt distant, muffled even. Up here, away from the noise, being alone with someone I genuinely liked spending time with felt far better.
"You're telling me the stars stretch very, very, very far?" Onnie asked. Her voice carried pure disbelief, the kind that made it obvious her mind was racing to catch up.
I nodded without hesitation. "Yup."
"How far is far?" she pressed, tilting her head toward me.
I stared up at the sky, trying to find the right words. "Okay… imagine walking. You walk every day, never stopping. You don't get tired, you don't age. Even then, you'd never reach the end."
Her fingers curled slightly against the roof tiles. "So there's no edge?"
"Not one we know of," I replied. "Space just keeps going. And those stars up there? They aren't close at all. Some of them are so far away that the light we see tonight started traveling before our village even existed."
Her lips parted a little. "Like... we're seeing the past?"
I looked at her, a bit stunned.
She pieced that together on her own. Usually I had to explain first that light travels from the source then to your eyes. It's impressive how she figured it out.
"Exactly," I said, smiling. "Some of those stars might have already changed, or even disappeared. Their light just hasn't finished the journey yet."
Onnie went quiet. Not uncomfortable, but thoughtful.
I pointed upward again. "And they aren't small, either. Each one is massive. There are stars so big they could swallow our sun whole."
Her head turned sharply toward me, she let out a soft laugh, equal parts shock and amazement. "That sounds unreal."
"It kind of is," I admitted.
The evening breeze drifted past us, carrying the scent of cooked meat and faint smoke from the party below. Laughter echoed distantly, softened by height and distance. Onnie hugged her arms around herself, as if the night had suddenly grown colder.
"If what you say is true…" she murmured, "then the stars in the sky must have felt lonely."
I blinked.
That was not the answer I expected.
"Lonely?" I repeated.
She nodded slowly. "They shine so far away. They don't know who is looking at them. Or if anyone will remember them after their light stops shining."
For a moment, I forgot she was a child. The words felt too heavy. Too close. Like she had brushed against something raw without even realizing it. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I honestly did not know what to say. So I stayed quiet. I turned my head toward the sky, letting the silence stretch. My thoughts drifted somewhere they had no right to go.
Then.. Randomly, a thought crossed my mind.
I wonder how my mother is doing.
Not Reyna. Not this life. My real mother. My mom-mom. Did she cry when the news came? Did she sit alone in her room, staring at nothing? Or did she blame herself for things she could never have changed?
I swallowed.
She is probably crying like a river right now. Or worse, blaming herself.
"So this is where you guys are!"
The sudden voice snapped through my thoughts like a whip. I lifted my head and saw Lyra standing above us, hands on her hips, wearing a smug little grin that told me she had definitely been listening for at least a few seconds. That unmistakable blue hair.
"Lyra?" I said. "What are you doing up here?"
She looked up at the sky for a moment, squinting at the stars, then turned back to us. "What are you doing up here?" she asked. "Watching stars? How is that fun?"
Onnie shifted slightly and spoke up, her voice gentle. "D-do you want to join us?"
Lyra looked at her, then shrugged. "Eh. Why not."
She walked over and dropped down beside Onnie, lying on her back like she owned the place.
"You done playing with your friends down there?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the sky.
Lyra scoffed. She turned her head, looking past Onnie and straight at me. "The boys down there kept saying they want to marry me in the future."
I grinned. "Let me guess. You said hel-"
"HELL NO!" she cut in instantly.
I laughed. Figures.
"They might be your friends," I said, "but they're boys. Of course they'd want a girl. Especially someone like you."
She hummed, considering it. "Mmm. I guess."
Then she crossed her arms behind her head. "But I don't care. I'm not marrying anyone until I'm forty."
I stared at the sky, silently face palming.
That is absolutely not how that works.
Onnie let out a small, amused giggle beside her.
Lyra turned her head slightly, still staring up at the sky, but her eyes slid toward me. A slow, knowing smirk spread across her face."So," she said casually, "what about you, Kyro? You planning on marrying Onnie?"
I choked on my own spit.
I shot upright so fast I nearly lost my balance on the roof. "LYRA!"
I whipped my head toward Onnie just in time to see her covering her face with both hands, her ears burning red.
I sat there, completely speechless.
"What?" Lyra asked innocently, though the grin on her face said otherwise. "Isn't that why you hang out with her more than the other kids in the village?" She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "You like her, don't you?"
Her smile turned downright sinister.
My eye twitched. "Lyra, will you shut the f-"
"I-I'm not ready for that!" Onnie blurted out suddenly, her voice loud and panicked. Her face was red enough to rival the lanterns below.
There was a beat of silence.
Then Lyra burst out laughing. "HAHAHAHA!"
She rolled slightly on the roof, clutching her stomach like she had just heard the best joke of her life.
"Quit it, Lyra," I groaned. "It's not funny."
I slumped back down onto the roof tiles, staring up at the stars again, pretending my dignity had not just been publicly executed. Onnie slowly lowered her hands from her face. She peeked at me for half a second before quickly turning back to the sky, still glowing red.
The laughter below continued while the stars above remained unmoved.
We stayed up there until we accidentally slept there together.
[End]