Kate heads to school, as usual, the weight of another day hanging over her. But today feels different. There's a strange charge in the air, like something humming just beneath the surface.
As she walks along the sidewalk, a tiny fluttering sound catches her attention. She stops in her tracks, eyes scanning the ground. There, amidst the grass, a baby bird lies on its side, fragile. Her heart tightens.
She looks around, but there's no nest in sight. She kneels, her fingers trembling as she scoops the tiny creature into her hands. It's warm—barely—but light as air, and the way it breathes makes her stomach twist. She can't just leave it. She can't.
As she rises, holding the bird close, she glances up—and freezes.
For the briefest second, just past a garden wall across the street, something flickers in the corner of her eye. A faint glow—muted gold threaded with something dark, like smoke. A person's aura. But the moment she tries to focus, it vanishes.
Her breath catches. "Someone was just there," she whispers, scanning the wall again. Nothing.
She hesitates a second longer before turning and running.
The bird is tucked safely in her hands, but even as she moves, she notices something else—its aura. Faint and wispy, like mist in sunlight. It's dimmer than it should be, flickering, as if the thread holding it here is starting to fray.
"Hang on," she murmurs to it, not knowing if it's for the bird or herself.
She bursts through the front door, slamming it shut behind her, already scanning the room. A couple of pillows. A shoebox. A kitchen towel. Then she darts down the hall, knocking hard on her sister's door.
Rose opens it, bleary-eyed and half-wrapped in a hoodie. She squints. "What the hell, Kate? It's my day off. Whatever you need, better not be dying."
Kate thrusts the bird forward like proof. "It's a baby bird. I found it. I need your help—it's hurt or sick or something, I don't know."
Rose blinks at the bird, unimpressed. "So... call a vet?"
Kate shakes her head, trying not to sound too shaken. "Its aura... It's fading. Fast."
Rose raises a brow. "...Okay, spooky bird whisperer."
Kate gives her a look, then starts down the hallway toward her room.
Rose crosses her arms, blinking. "Hey, where are your goggles?"
Kate pauses, halfway through setting the bird down in a box lined with old T-shirts.
"They're still on my desk."
Rose tilts her head. "You always wear them."
Kate shrugs. "I don't think I need them anymore."
Rose raises a brow. "Since when?"
Kate hesitates, then looks over at the bird again. "I don't know. Something's... different. It's like the fuzz around everything's gone. I can see the layers now—like the auras aren't hiding behind noise anymore. It's like... the world's cleared up overnight."
That gets a longer look from Rose—confused, suspicious, but too tired to press. She just shakes her head and disappears back inside.
Kate kneels beside the box she prepared and gently places the bird inside, wrapping it in the towel. She lingers, watching its tiny chest rise and fall, each breath slower than the last.
Its aura flickers once more, then stabilizes. Just barely.
There's something about the creature. Something fragile and weightless—but not just physically. It feels like a symbol of something else, something deeper. Something she's meant to notice.
She exhales quietly and carefully.
She left the bird tucked into a nest of t-shirts, her mind still echoing with the flicker of that strange aura by the wall. Whatever that was—it hadn't been normal. And she couldn't shake the feeling it wouldn't be the last time she saw it.
The clock on the wall reads 9:22 AM when she finally arrives at school. She races through the halls, breathless, only to burst into her advisory class just as the bell rings. The teacher doesn't even bother scolding her. Instead, he starts talking about the football game and schedule changes, something that usually wouldn't bored her, but now feels irrelevant.
Kate raises her hand, trying to shake off the chaos swirling inside her. "Is there any way I can keep my current schedule?" she asks, her voice tight with the weight of everything she's holding onto—both literally and figuratively.
Her teacher gives her a long, considering look. "Unfortunately, that's not something I can decide on the spot. But I'll see what I can do."
Kate nods gratefully, even though she feels a knot in her stomach. It's a small win, but it's something.
The bell rings again, and she heads to her next class, still trying to push the weight of everything from her mind.
Zoey greets her in the hallway, practically bouncing off the walls with energy. "I stayed up all night studying football games and drinking Diet Coke to prepare for our school's rival game Friday!" Zoey exclaims with a wide grin. "I'm gonna flex on everyone with my supreme knowledge of sports."
Kate raises an eyebrow, skeptical. "There's no way you stayed up all night. You have way too much energy. Wait..." She narrows her eyes at Zoey. "Did you just have Diet Coke last night?"
Zoey laughs, brushing it off. "Nah, I had a couple of pieces of candy and some coffee too."
Kate's eyes widen. "How many is a couple?"
Zoey grins sheepishly. "Alright, fine. It was like... 40 or 50 pieces. Happy?"
Kate frowns, concern flashing in her eyes. "Zoey, you're on a sugar high. You need to slow down with the sweets, dude."
Zoey rolls her eyes, but she can't keep the grin off her face. "Okay, Ms. K. I'll try."
Kate can't resist the urge to bonk Zoey on the head. "Liar," she teases, letting the playful moment distract her.
Zoey laughs and waves as she dashes off. "It won't happen again, Ms. K!"
Before Kate can respond, Zoey's already out of earshot. Kate watches her go, but a sudden, familiar presence makes her pause. Mr. Man appears, stepping right into her path.
He grins, mischief twinkling in his eyes. Before she can protest, he reaches up and bonks her on the head. "Get to class, you troublemaker."
Kate rubs her head, scowling. "That's illegal! You can't just go around hitting kids on the head."
Mr. Man raises an eyebrow, unfazed. "Oh, what do you mean? I simply patted you on the head to get your attention. I wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone another human being."
Kate kicks him in the leg playfully and dashes into class. "Yeah, right, Mr. Man."
Mr. Man mutters under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear, "You little b*tch."
Kate peeks out from the classroom door and gives him a dramatic pout. "What was that, Mr. Man?"
The bell rings. Everyone heads to their classes, and Mr. Man limps inside, trying to play off the pain but betraying himself with a slight grin as he begins the lesson.
At 11:10 AM, the fire drill interrupts the class. The usual clamor fills the halls, a cacophony of voices and movement. For Kate, it's like stepping into a kaleidoscope—every person around her glowing with vibrant, shifting auras. Some shimmer with nerves, others pulse with boredom or irritation. It's dazzling. Overwhelming. She grips her backpack tighter, trying not to drown in the emotional noise of it all.
And then, like an anchor in the chaos, she sees him.
Ray, across the field.
His aura is different. It doesn't shimmer or pulse like the others—it flickers. Wild and jagged, almost unstable. Like a candle trying to survive in a storm. Dark tones rimmed with flashes of silver and deep violet. It shouldn't be beautiful, but it is.
Their eyes meet. Her breath catches—not because of some fairytale rush—but because in that instant, something changes. The space between them stretches thin, and for a fraction of a second, time feels... wrong.
She sees a flash—him, older. Standing next to her in a place she doesn't recognize. Trees, mist, blood on his shirt. He looks at her like he's made of purpose, and she's the only thing tethering him to the earth.
And then it's gone.
The bell rings.
The crowd moves.
Ray vanishes into the blur of students, his strange energy dissipating into the noise. Kate blinks, stunned, the vision still clinging to the edges of her mind like smoke.