Uploading became a ritual.
I'd scan the pages, adjust the brightness until the panels didn't look like smudged homework, and hit publish.
Every time, the silence after the click felt louder.
Another chapter. Another week. Another handful of views.
I started to hate the refresh button.
At lunch, Reya caught me glaring at my phone.
"How many?" she asked.
"Seven," I muttered.
"That's three more than last time," she said, smiling like she meant it.
I didn't smile back.
"You know I read every one, right?" she added.
I looked at her.
She pulled out her phone and tilted it toward me. My comic was open — my panels, my characters, framed by a tiny glowing screen.
"See?" she said, swiping. "I even comment."
"You write things like 'Seren is best girl,'" I said flatly.
Reya gasped, mock-offended. "Because she is! And Aurelia's cape deserves its own fan club."
I shook my head, but there was a warmth under my irritation I didn't name.
The first time we exchanged socials wasn't planned.
Reya had been leaning over my sketchbook, hair falling over her shoulder, when she asked, "Do you upload the new pages on weekends or just whenever?"
"Whenever," I muttered.
She frowned. "That's chaos. You need a schedule."
"I don't have a schedule."
She held out her phone. "Here. I'll remind you."
I blinked at the screen like it was an alien object.
"You don't have to—"
"I do," she interrupted. "Also, you owe me a sneak peek of the next chapter."
Her grin made it sound less like a favor, more like a fact.
I took her phone, typed in my number, and slid it back without looking up.
"Now you can't hide," she said, already saving my name.
That night, Maria stood in my doorway while I hunched over my desk.
"You've been at this for hours," she said.
"I'm fine," I muttered, pencil moving across the page.
She came closer, setting a cup of warm tea beside me. "Your eyes look tired."
"I'm almost done," I lied.
Maria's gaze moved to the sketchbook. Aurelia's sword was mid-swing, Seren crouched with her hands glowing faintly, and the ruins behind them were darker than before.
"You really like this world," she said quietly.
I hesitated. "It… makes sense in my head."
Maria smiled faintly, brushing a fingertip across the corner of one page. "Sometimes, that's enough. You don't need anyone else to get it, not yet."
Her words stayed with me long after she left the room.
The next day, Reya shoved her phone under my nose before I even sat down.
She'd written more comments — not long ones, just little flashes of her voice under every chapter.
Aurelia's glare is lethal. 10/10.
Seren should run a bakery. I'd read that spinoff.
This one hurt. In a good way. Do more like this.
They were silly, but they were there.
All of them.
"You don't have to do this," I muttered.
Reya smirked. "That's why I do."
On Wednesday, Maria called me into the kitchen.
She was at the counter, trying to open a stubborn jar of sauce. Her knuckles went white on the lid before she set it down with a sigh.
"Can you?" she asked.
I twisted the lid once. It gave easily.
"Thanks," she murmured, avoiding my eyes.
I saw the way her hand trembled for a second before she tucked it behind her back.
Later that evening, she brought another mug of tea into my room.
"You've been working on this all day?" she asked, nodding toward my desk.
"Yeah," I said.
Her smile was small, tired, but proud. "Don't stay up too late."
She hesitated at the doorway like she wanted to say something else, then didn't.
Later that night, my phone buzzed.
I almost ignored it, but the name made me pick up.
"Hey," Reya's voice crackled through the line. "You're awake."
"You texted first," I said.
"It's not even that late," she shot back. I could hear her moving around, the faint whir of a fan in her room.
After a pause, she asked, "Do you realize we're moving up to senior high in a few months?"
"Yeah."
"Feels weird, doesn't it?" she said. "Like, middle school's just… gone."
I leaned back in my chair. "People keep saying high school is different."
"It is," she said. "Everyone's talking about strands already. ABM, STEM, HUMSS—people are acting like they have their whole lives figured out."
"And you?"
"HUMSS," she said easily. "I like stories. And people. And talking, obviously."
"Obviously," I muttered.
She laughed softly. "What about you?"
I hesitated. Then said, "STEM."
There was a pause on her end. "Really? I thought you'd do… art or something."
"I want to be a nurse," I said quietly.
Reya didn't answer right away. "A nurse?"
"For my mom," I said, the words heavier than I expected. "I already help her with little things, but… she's getting worse."
The silence stretched, not awkward — just waiting.
"She has these days where she's so tired she can't get out of bed," I said. "I've been with her to the doctor. I know what's coming. I want to be ready. I want to be able to… help her. Take care of her myself."
I didn't say the other thought: because Dad isn't here to do it.
Reya's voice softened. "That's… really good of you, Aki."
"It's not about being good," I muttered. "It's just what I want to do."
Another pause.
"Then you'll be a good one," she said.
For a while, the line went quiet except for the sound of her turning pages — probably my comic open on her phone.
"You'll keep drawing, right?" she asked suddenly.
"Yeah," I said.
"Good," she said. I could hear the smile in her voice. "Because I want to see what happens next. Aurelia, Seren, all of it. Don't stop."
"I won't."
"Promise?"
"Promise," I said.
The call stretched a little longer, filled with small nothings — Reya complaining about homework, me answering half-heartedly, both of us staying on the line longer than we needed to.
When we finally said goodnight, the room felt less quiet than before.
Chapter 5 End