Festival day arrived with too much noise.
Lior knew it was going to be bad the second his alarm rang at five in the morning.
Not bad like danger.
Bad like exhaustion.
The kind where your body refuses to move but life doesn't care.
"…Why did I agree to the morning shift…" he groaned into his pillow.
His ceiling fan creaked slowly overhead.
Outside, the sky was still dark blue, barely turning grey.
For a moment, he considered skipping.
Just once.
Just sleeping.
Then his brain reminded him:
Stall duty.
Extra credit.
Rent.
"…Right. Poverty wins again."
He dragged himself out of bed.
Cold water on his face.
Instant coffee.
Bread toasted too long because he forgot to watch it.
Normal, quiet things.
The kind of small, unglamorous life nobody ever wrote stories about.
And yet—
this was his.
He preferred it that way.
By six-thirty, the campus already buzzed.
Trucks unloading decorations.
Music tests echoing across buildings.
Clubs shouting instructions.
Someone had somehow already spilled paint on the walkway.
Lior tied his apron around his waist as he reached the literature stall.
"…You're late," Sena said immediately.
"It's six-thirty."
"Exactly. Late."
"That's not how time works."
She shoved a box into his arms.
"Bookmarks. Arrange them. And write quotes on these cards. And Tomas broke the sign again."
"…How does he keep breaking things without touching them?"
"It's a talent."
Lior sighed and got to work.
He stacked secondhand books neatly.
Sorted poetry collections.
Taped handwritten lines onto the board.
His handwriting curved softly across paper:
Some days feel ordinary until you remember them years later.
He stared at that sentence for a second longer than necessary.
"…Cheesy," he muttered, but didn't erase it.
By nine, the festival officially opened.
And everything exploded.
Music.
Laughter.
Footsteps.
Food stalls.
Kids running around with balloons.
The smell of fried snacks and sugar filled the air.
It felt less like a college and more like a small city fair.
Students from other campuses even came.
Crowds everywhere.
Too many people.
Too many scents.
Too many voices.
Lior adjusted his mask slightly out of habit.
Being a Dominant Omega in crowds was always tricky.
Even with suppressants.
Even with control.
Instincts didn't disappear completely.
They just slept lightly.
"…You okay?" Mireo asked, handing him water.
"Yeah. Just noise."
"Take breaks. Don't faint on my stall."
"You're so caring."
"Shut up."
He smiled.
By noon, the literature booth was surprisingly popular.
Couples writing anonymous letters.
People reading poems aloud.
A shy freshman asking for book recommendations.
It was gentle.
Soft.
Nothing flashy.
But warm.
Lior liked it.
This kind of happiness felt honest.
No money.
No power.
Just people.
"Excuse me."
He turned.
A tall figure stood in front of the stall.
Dark coat.
Silver watch.
Calm grey eyes.
"…You again?" Lior said automatically.
Kaizen tilted his head slightly.
"…Good morning."
"You say that like this is your office."
"It could be."
"That's worse."
Kaizen's mouth twitched faintly.
Not quite a smile.
But close.
He looked around at the booth.
At the messy papers.
The handmade decorations.
"…You built all this?" he asked.
"Yeah. With tape and suffering."
"…It suits you."
"…What does that mean?"
"…It's warm."
Lior blinked.
Warm.
He used that word again.
Like he'd discovered something unfamiliar and couldn't stop noticing it.
Behind them, students stared openly.
Whispers spread.
Phones subtly pointed.
Lior groaned internally.
"Stop standing here. You're scaring customers."
"I'm not doing anything."
"You're breathing."
"…I'll try less."
"You can't try less breathing!"
"…Unfortunate."
He hated that he almost laughed.
"Brother!"
Alaric ran up, nearly tripping over cables.
Calix followed behind, carrying two bags of snacks like a responsible adult.
"You came early today," Alaric said brightly.
"I had time," Kaizen replied.
Lior knew that was a lie.
Kaizen Vale didn't have time.
He made it.
Which was somehow worse.
Because that meant he chose to be here.
Again.
The four of them ended up walking around the festival together.
Not intentionally.
Just… naturally.
Like their steps kept matching.
Tomas joined for five minutes before getting distracted by food.
Sena waved from the journalism booth.
Music blasted from the dance club stage.
Calix bought drinks for everyone without asking.
Alaric pointed excitedly at every small thing like it was magical.
"This feels nice," he said softly.
Lior nodded.
"…Yeah. It does."
Kaizen watched them quietly.
Like he was memorizing something.
Like moments like this were rare for him.
Maybe they were.
From across the crowd—
Zyren stood near the entrance.
Hands in pockets.
Eyes sharp.
Observing.
Always observing.
He watched Kaizen laugh softly at something Alaric said.
Watched how his attention drifted to Lior without realizing.
Watched the way distance closed naturally between them.
"…So predictable," Zyren murmured.
Even kings had weaknesses.
And weaknesses were opportunities.
His gaze shifted toward the literature stall.
Then to the electrical wiring behind it.
Then back to Lior.
A small smile formed.
Not dangerous yet.
Just calculating.
Late afternoon—
the sky turned golden.
Lights flickered on early.
Crowds grew thicker.
Someone started a live band.
People cheered.
The campus felt alive in a way Lior had never seen before.
He stood at the stall counting coins from bookmark sales.
"…Thirty-two, thirty-four…"
It wasn't much.
But it was something.
Maybe enough for groceries.
Maybe enough to breathe easier this week.
"…You work too hard," a voice said behind him.
He didn't need to turn.
"…Says the man who runs half the city."
"That's different."
"How?"
"…I chose it."
Lior paused.
"…I didn't choose this either," he admitted quietly. "But I don't hate it."
Kaizen studied him.
Long.
Quiet.
"…You're strange," he said.
"Rude."
"…Strong."
That word felt heavier.
More serious.
Lior didn't know how to respond.
So he just looked away.
Heart beating too loud for no reason.
Then—
for just a second—
the lights above the stall flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Dimmed.
"…Huh?" Tomas looked up.
"Loose wire?" Sena guessed.
Then they came back on.
Normal again.
Everyone shrugged.
No big deal.
Festival chaos.
Things happened.
No one noticed the man across the campus lowering his phone slowly.
Watching.
Waiting.
Smiling faintly.
As night settled, fairy lights glowed everywhere.
Warm yellow dots against dark blue sky.
Music softer now.
People tired but happy.
Lior leaned against the booth, exhausted.
Feet aching.
Head buzzing.
But content.
Really content.
Kaizen stood beside him quietly.
Neither speaking.
Just watching the lights.
"…Thanks for coming," Lior said suddenly.
"…I didn't do anything."
"…Still."
A pause.
"…I like seeing you here," he added, almost too quietly.
Kaizen glanced at him.
Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
"…Then I'll come again," he said.
Simple.
Certain.
Like a promise.
And for some reason—
that made Lior's chest feel warmer than all the festival lights combined.
Far away—
Zyren's car engine started.
"…Enjoy it while it lasts," he muttered.
Because peace—
was always temporary.
And he planned to be the one who broke it.