Morning came reluctantly.
The kind of pale, indifferent morning that slipped through the curtains as though the night had not just split something open inside him.
Kael was already awake.
He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely laced together as he stared at nothing.
There was a feeling in his chest.
Unpleasant.
Heavy.
But not sharp enough to call pain.
Not hollow enough to call sadness.
Not violent enough to call hurt.
It was something stranger than all of them — a quiet fracture, spreading soundlessly beneath the surface.
As if something inside him had cracked during the night and was now waiting for him to notice.
He couldn't understand it.
What was this?
Why did these dreams always leave him like this?
Why was it always him?
Every dream felt like being dropped onto shattered glass.
And each time he woke, it was as though he had been pieced back together wrong.
Not healed.
Just rearranged enough to keep moving.
Like a broken mirror forced into shape, only to crack again at the slightest touch.
Then break further.
And further.
Until one day there would be so many pieces that even he would no longer know which fragments were truly his.
The thought unsettled him.
How many more times could something break before it stopped being whole altogether?
And how much longer could he endure waking to memories that were not memories, grief that had no source, and longing that had no name?
Another day had begun.
And with it came another nightmare.
Or perhaps—
another piece of something buried too deep to call a dream anymore.
Kael exhaled sharply and pushed himself up.
The cold floor beneath his bare feet grounded him enough to move.
He crossed to the washroom and turned on the faucet.
Water rushed into the silence.
He splashed it over his face once.
Twice.
Three times.
As if cold water could rinse away whatever the night had left behind.
When he finally looked up, his reflection stared back at him.
For a moment, he frowned.
Something was different.
Not visibly.
There were no dark circles under his eyes, no obvious strain carved into his features.
And yet—
his face looked unfamiliar.
Not changed.
Just... displaced.
As though he were looking at himself through someone else's memory.
His expression tightened.
"Damn."
The word came out low, irritated.
Why wouldn't it leave?
Why did that dream still cling to him like smoke?
He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles whitening.
Another splash of water.
Harder this time.
As though force could erase feeling.
But Kael knew better.
Some things could not be washed away.
Feelings were not stains.
They did not disappear simply because they were inconvenient.
The more you resisted them, the deeper they settled.
Quietly.
Patiently.
Waiting.
Human beings liked to believe they controlled what they felt.
That if they ignored something long enough, denied it fiercely enough, buried it deep enough—
it would die there.
But emotions were rarely so merciful.
Unanswered questions did not vanish.
Unfinished things did not fade.
They lingered.
And if you found yourself caught between knowing and not knowing, between beginning and retreating—
there was no escape.
Not until you moved forward.
Or broke trying.
Kael stared at the water spiraling down the drain.
Then slowly straightened.
The unease remained.
But beneath it, something else had begun to take shape.
Resolve.
Faint.
Fragile.
But there.
Whatever these dreams were—
whatever they were trying to show him—
he could no longer afford to treat them as coincidence.
Something was changing.
And whether he was ready or not,
he would have to face it.
"..."
Breakfast felt… strange.
Not because of the food. Not because of the silence.
Everything was normal. Servants moved in and out quietly, silverware clinked softly against porcelain, and sunlight stretched lazily across the long dining table.
Yet none of it reached Kael properly.
The unease from the dream still sat in his chest, heavy and dull, like something unfinished had followed him into the morning.
He disliked it.
More accurately—
he disliked not understanding it.
After breakfast, Kael headed toward the elite dormitory as usual.
His carriage moved steadily through the academy paths, the familiar rhythm normally easy to ignore.
Today, he noticed everything.
Or perhaps—
he noticed nothing at all.
His thoughts remained somewhere behind him, tangled in the remains of the dream.
That faceless presence.
That unbearable ache in his chest.
That stranger standing where Kael felt he should have been.
His fingers tightened faintly against his sleeve.
Annoying.
Why was he still thinking about it?
The carriage slowed to a stop in front of the dormitory building.
Kael stepped out.
The cool morning air brushed against his skin, grounding enough that the pressure in his chest eased slightly.
Only slightly.
Then—
"Kael—!"
He looked up.
Elior was running toward him.
Fast enough that the wind caught in his hair, one hand lifted slightly as though he had called out before thinking.
And for one brief moment, Kael forgot the dream entirely.
Elior was only a few steps away when it happened.
His foot caught against a small uneven stone near the path.
A simple mistake.
Tiny.
Harmless.
But Kael's body reacted before the thought fully formed.
He moved instantly, closing the distance just as Elior lost balance.
One arm wrapped around Elior's waist.
The other steadied his shoulder.
Elior stumbled directly into him instead of the ground.
The impact wasn't strong.
But Kael's grip was.
Firm.
Protective.
Almost desperate.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Elior's hand had instinctively grabbed the front of Kael's uniform. His breathing came uneven from surprise, warm against the space between them.
Kael stared down at him.
And something in his chest twisted sharply.
Too sharply.
It made no sense.
Elior almost falling should not have affected him this much.
At worst, it would have been a scrape. A bruise.
Nothing serious.
Then why—
why had his heart reacted like something terrible was about to happen?
Why did the thought of not catching him feel so unbearably wrong?
"…Ah," Elior breathed softly, clearly startled. "Thank you. If you weren't there, I would've fallen…"
Kael didn't answer immediately.
His arm remained around Elior's waist a second longer than necessary before finally loosening.
"Be careful," he said quietly.
His voice sounded calm.
His expression didn't.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Why were you running?"
Elior froze.
And instantly regretted everything.
Yesterday returned all at once—
the teasing,
the closeness,
that low voice near his ear—
Sweet dreams… kitten.
Heat rushed violently into his face.
His thoughts tangled so badly he nearly forgot how to speak.
"I—I wasn't running for any reason," he said too quickly, stepping back now that he could stand properly again. "I just tried to hurry and didn't notice…"
He pointed downward awkwardly.
"The stone."
Kael's gaze followed.
A small stone rested near the edge of the path.
Insignificant.
Completely ordinary.
And yet Kael kept staring at it.
His expression turned strangely cold.
That stone had caused Elior to slip.
That stone had caused that moment—
that sharp, unpleasant feeling in his chest.
His jaw tightened faintly.
Irrationally,
unreasonably,
his mind settled blame onto it.
Bad stone.
The thought came immediately.
Childish.
Absurd.
Yet Kael continued staring at it as though it had personally offended him.
Because focusing on the stone was easier.
Far easier than questioning why Elior nearly falling had made his heart feel like it was being crushed inside his ribs.
Kael's gaze lingered on Elior for a moment.
Strange.
Unreadable.
Like something inside him was still unsettled.
Then he quietly said,
"Get in."
Elior nodded and stepped into the carriage first.
Kael steadied him carefully while he entered, one hand briefly resting near Elior's arm as though making sure he wouldn't lose balance again.
It was such a small action.
Yet strangely gentle.
Elior sat down inside the carriage, expecting Kael to enter right after him like usual.
But he didn't.
The door remained open.
A few moments passed.
Then a little more.
Elior blinked once softly.
That was unusual.
Kael normally entered immediately.
Today, for some reason, he hadn't.
The thought lingered quietly in Elior's mind, though he couldn't explain why it bothered him.
Almost two minutes later, Kael finally stepped inside and sat down.
Something felt strange.
Not obvious enough to question.
But enough for Elior to notice.
Kael wasn't acting cold.
Wasn't angry.
Yet there was a faint distance around him today, like part of him remained somewhere else entirely.
Then suddenly—
"Did you eat?"
Elior looked up in surprise.
"…Eh?"
The question caught him completely off guard.
Kael had never asked that before.
At least—not so casually.
"Oh… ah, yes," Elior answered quickly. "I already ate."
A brief silence followed.
Even Kael seemed faintly still afterward, as though he himself didn't know why he had asked.
The words had simply appeared on their own.
The carriage began moving again.
The familiar academy roads caused the inside to shake lightly every now and then.
Usually, Kael enjoyed this route.
The uneven paths, the loose pebbles beneath the wheels, the sudden small jolts—they often threw Elior slightly off balance.
And Elior, caught off guard every single time, would instinctively grab onto him or stumble lightly against his shoulder.
Kael had long since stopped pretending those moments were accidental.
Choosing this route had become habit.
A quiet one.
A selfish one.
Another small jolt shook the carriage.
Elior lost balance slightly, his shoulder brushing against Kael's arm before steadying himself again.
Normally, Kael would have found the moment amusing.
Today, his expression tightened instead.
His eyes flicked briefly toward the window.
Pebbles again.
That unpleasant feeling returned faintly to his chest.
Not because Elior was close.
Never that.
The warmth leaning briefly against him wasn't unpleasant.
No.
The true enemy here was clearly the pebbles.
Elior nearly slipping earlier had unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
And now every uneven movement of the carriage only reminded him of it.
As though his body had suddenly decided that Elior losing balance—even slightly—was unacceptable.
And somehow—
that realization disturbed Kael far more than the dream itself.
—by Aurea;
"Some hearts do not realize they are breaking…
until they panic at the thought of someone else falling."