The class was already noisy by the time I entered late.
Voices clashed, chairs scraped against the floor, laughter echoed without restraint. It felt normal—too normal—for someone whose heart was still beating from fear and unanswered questions.
I scanned the room immediately.
Jan wasn't there.
My chest tightened.
Maybe she went to the café, I told myself, forcing calm as I walked to my seat and sat down slowly.
Then I felt it.
That familiar weight.
Eyes.
I lifted my head slightly and saw Raven at his usual seat at the back of the class. He wasn't pretending to listen. He wasn't talking. He was staring directly at me.
My stomach twisted.
I quickly looked away, my fingers gripping the edge of my desk. After the dreams… after the blood… after the tree… I couldn't bring myself to hold his gaze.
A few minutes passed.
Then I felt a hand touch my shoulder.
I froze.
Slowly, I turned.
It was Raven.
A sudden tremble ran through my body, sharp and cold, settling deep in my stomach. Fear crawled up my spine, but I forced myself not to show it.
"Jina," he said quietly, "can we talk?"
My heart skipped.
"We can talk here," I replied quickly.
I already knew what he wanted. The tree.
And after what I had seen in my dreams, after the blood on my bed, I was terrified to go anywhere near it.
"Jina," Raven said again, his grip still on my shoulder. His voice was low, serious. "You know I don't talk here."
I swallowed.
"Please," he added. "It's very important."
I hesitated.
Every part of me screamed don't go. But another part—the part that wanted answers, the part that refused to stay blind—slowly pushed me to my feet.
Without another word, I followed him.
The walk to the tree felt longer than usual. Every step felt heavy, like I was walking toward something I wasn't meant to face yet.
When we reached the tree, Raven stopped.
He inhaled deeply and looked at me.
"Jina," he said, "I want to tell you something. But please… don't be scared."
I am already scared, I thought, but I nodded anyway.
"It's about last night."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Last night?" I repeated sharply. "What happened?"
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"Jina… you know I sometimes sleep in this tree."
My eyes widened.
"You do?" I asked, my voice barely steady.
He nodded.
"How do you think I always know when you leave your window open?"
My breath caught.
I instinctively glanced up toward my room. My window was shut now. Tightly closed.
I turned back to him.
"So… what happened?" I asked quietly.
"I saw someone leaving from your window."
The words hit me like ice.
"What?" I whispered.
"Jina," he continued, "I'm not supposed to say this to you. And it's not the first time someone has entered your room."
My heart raced.
"Then why tell me now?" I asked.
His eyes darkened.
"Because this time," he said slowly, "the person is someone you know."
I stiffened.
"And not just someone you know," he added. "Someone very close to you."
Silence swallowed us.
"Okay, Raven," I said finally, my voice low. "I don't trust anybody anymore. And I don't intend to."
I looked him straight in the eyes.
"And yes," I continued, "I saw that person too. In my dreams."
His gaze sharpened.
"That means my dreams are real," I whispered.
Then the question I had been holding back slipped out.
"Raven… who are you?"
He stared at me for a long moment.
"I am here to protect you," he said simply.
I let out a small laugh, more from nerves than humor.
"To protect me?" I repeated. "Raven, you're not serious."
I looked away at the tree, its branches swaying gently.
"And you find it so comfortable talking here," I added.
"Because nobody can see us from here," he replied.
I turned sharply.
"Nobody can see us?" I asked, disbelief creeping into my voice.
Students were walking past. Laughing. Talking. Living normal lives.
"So these people I'm seeing can't see us?" I scoffed lightly. "That's a good joke."
Raven didn't smile.
"Jina," he said calmly, "when I want to say something deep, nobody sees us. But when I'm free… people can."
I folded my arms.
"And I can prove it to you."
I watched as he bent down, picked up a tiny stick, and threw it toward a student walking past.
The stick hit the boy's shoulder.
The boy stopped.
He looked up—straight at the tree.
But not at us.
He frowned, walked closer, circled the tree slowly, scanning the branches.
My heart pounded.
I shouted, "Hey!"
He didn't turn.
He didn't hear me.
After a moment, the boy walked away, still glancing at the tree in confusion.
I stood frozen.
Fear wrapped around my chest.
I turned slowly to Raven.
He was smiling.
At least the third time I had seen him smile.
"How did you do that?" I whispered. "Are you a sorcerer? A magician? Who are you?"
He smiled again—his fourth time, if I was counting.
"The music teacher just entered the class," he said calmly, turning away.
And he walked off.
I stood there, stunned.
How did he know? I thought.
I touched my arms, suddenly aware of my own skin, my own breath.
Then I followed him.
As we entered the class, the music teacher was already standing in front, introducing the topic.
My legs felt weak.
I went straight to my desk and sat down.
My eyes drifted to Jan's seat.
Still empty.
Confusion swirled inside me—fear, doubt, curiosity, and something darker.
Nothing felt normal anymore.
Not the school.
Not the people.
Not even myself.