The day dragged on for Yuma, his mind completely lost in thought as he tried to process his new life. Endless lectures droned on from teachers, voices blurring together into a monotonous haze. The senseless chattering of students filled the classroom, laughter and gossip bouncing off the walls. None of it registered. It all blended into an ignorable mess in the background.
Before he realized it, lunch had arrived.
That didn't change anything. His thoughts remained tangled, circling endlessly around the same fears and questions. The first half of the day passed like this until Keisuke finally broke through the fog.
"Yumaaaa," he called out, dragging the name until it finally snagged Yuma's attention.
Slowly pulling himself out of his thoughts, Yuma looked up at Keisuke. That's when he noticed the chair beside the table, and the platinum-haired prick sitting in it.
Akira.
For some reason, though, Yuma didn't feel that usual surge of seething rage. Instead, there was something else. A quiet understanding. Like seeing someone else stuck on the same sinking boat.
Akira and Keisuke sat with him, concern written plainly across Keisuke's face, while a muted awareness lingered in Akira's expression. That alone shocked Yuma. There was none of Akira's usual stoic indifference, just a calm, observant silence.
"Why are you guys here?" Yuma asked, assuming they had questions.
Keisuke perked up instantly, smiling widely.
"I'm just hanging out with my brother!" he chirped.
Although Keisuke meant it sincerely, an accurate description of the bond they shared, old and new, it struck something raw inside Yuma. A sudden vulnerability lashed out.
"You're not my brother," Yuma said firmly.
Keisuke's smile faltered, shrinking into something weaker. He clearly hadn't expected that. Akira, on the other hand, quietly placed a hand on Keisuke's shoulder, a silent gesture of reassurance.
"That was rude, Kanzukuri," Akira said softly, almost like a gentle scolding.
Yuma shot him a cold sidelong glare.
Who the hell does he think he is?
They weren't friends. The look he gave made that unmistakably clear.
Akira noticed and said nothing more to Yuma, instead continuing to reassure Keisuke.
"He's adjusting," Akira said calmly. "Give him some space."
Keisuke nodded once, simple and understanding. Both of them stood and walked away, leaving Yuma alone at the table.
Yuma didn't care.
And Akira was right. The new powers he was trapped with. The grief still burning beneath his skin, grief he never spoke about. It all piled up, heavy and suffocating.
His eyelids grew unbearably heavy.
Deciding he couldn't handle any more, Yuma rested his head on the table, letting the noise fade as he slipped into darkness.
***
The blackness shifted.
Suddenly, he stood inside a ruined house.
The structure was burned beyond recognition, its walls blackened and broken, yet frozen solid. Ice coated the damage as if it had been used to smother the flames, but the charred remains still glowed faintly beneath it, slowly deteriorating despite the cold.
In the center of the roofless home sat Serapheria.
She lounged comfortably on a ruined couch, her dress pooling around her as if the destruction meant nothing. The fabric spilled gracefully onto the frozen floor.
Unsure of where he was, Yuma approached her and stopped in front of the couch. The moment their eyes met, his confusion ignited into fury.
"WHAT DID YOU TRAP ME IN?!" he shouted.
Serapheria remained calm, simply patting the empty space beside her.
That only fueled his anger.
"NO. I'M NOT SITTING. EXPLAIN THIS ALL TO ME!" he yelled again.
She sighed softly, then spoke.
"I didn't force anything on you," she said evenly. "I made an offer, and you shook my hand. You willingly agreed."
"I DIDN'T!" Yuma snapped. "I WAS THINKING AND YOU SHOOK MY HAND! YOU GRABBED IT!"
"I didn't," she replied calmly. "I held out my hand. You took it. Maybe you didn't consciously make the decision… but your soul did."
It made no sense to him.
"THE HELL DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! I DON'T WANT THIS! I NEVER DID!"
"The promise couldn't have worked otherwise," she answered plainly. "But I told you I would solve all your issues. Even the ones you hide. Perhaps your soul agreed to that while you hesitated."
Yuma froze.
Before he could argue further, Serapheria opened her arms. This wasn't an invitation to sit anymore. Her voice softened, shifting from calm to something gentler.
"Come," she said. "You know of resonance now, and I want you to grow. Talk to me… about your hurt. About your loss."
His breath caught.
How did she know?
Then it hit him.
She said she would be a quiet observer. Present only in his dreams.
His eyes burned as tears welled up. Grief surged forward uncontrollably. His lips trembled, words failing him as he collapsed to his knees and fell into her open arms.
She cradled his head against her chest, stroking his hair gently.
And just like that, he broke.
Tears spilled freely, soaking into her dress as he cried without restraint. Before he could speak
He jolted awake.
Tears streamed down his face.
Beside him stood a startled girl, frozen mid-motion. She'd been trying to wake him from his nap and had caught him crying in his sleep.
Yuma wiped his eyes immediately, erasing every trace of vulnerability.
"A-are you… o-okay?" she asked softly, genuine concern in her voice.
"I'm fine," Yuma said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just a sad, silly dream."
"Oh…" she murmured. "I-I'm sorry to wake you… but lunch ended…"
Her voice was quiet, barely audible, but Yuma heard her clearly.
"Uh… thank you," he said, hesitating. "Um…"
"Tetsuya," she replied softly. "Tetsuya Kae…"
"Kanzukuri," Yuma answered with a gentle smile.
He gathered his things and waved once before leaving the classroom. As he stepped into the hallway, something felt… lighter.
Like breathing fresh air after choking on ash.
For a fleeting moment, he thought about the feeling, different from Akira's cold presence or Keisuke's radiant warmth.
Was she a conduit too?
He dismissed the thought and jogged off to class.
But the question lingered.