"Not yet."
Shura's voice came out low, steady—but not strong.
There was something underneath it.
It wasn't doubt or fear—he just held his ground.
Liyo didn't question it.
Didn't ask what he meant.
He simply exhaled once through his nose and dropped back onto the bench, stretching his legs out in front of him like this was routine. Like people refusing themselves was something he saw every day.
Liyo had already leaned back onto the bench, settling in like he wasn't moving anytime soon.
Shura didn't follow.
He stayed where he was for a moment—
then turned and began to move.
Not toward anything in particular.
Just… away.
Like staying there hadn't ever been an option.
The courtyard moved slowly around them.
Voices drifted in loose threads. Someone laughed in the distance. Metal clinked lightly somewhere off to the side. A group argued over something that didn't sound important enough to matter.
People existed here without urgency.
Without pressure.
A voice cut in from nearby.
"Don't disappear on us again, yeah?"
A man leaned against a short stone wall, arms folded, watching Liyo with a tired familiarity that came from repetition. "Last time I ended up covering your shift."
Liyo didn't look at him right away.
"Sounds like I'm more useful when I'm not here."
A couple of nearby students snorted.
The man pushed off the wall and walked a few steps closer.
"Since when do you not run your shifts?"
Liyo finally glanced over, unimpressed.
"When you stopped stealing coin from my pocket."
A pause.
Then a long, suffering exhale.
"That joke stopped being funny," he muttered. "You've used it about nine thousand times."
A faint ripple of amusement moved through the small group.
Not loud.
Just enough to exist.
The man shook his head, then jerked his chin toward Shura.
"Watch over him."
Liyo followed the gesture.
Looked at Shura.
Shura had already stood.
He didn't announce it.
Didn't explain.
Didn't even look at anyone.
He just moved.
One step forward.
Then—
something didn't align.
A voice nearby spoke.
"…you going or—"
Shura heard it twice.
Once—clear.
Once—late.
Like an echo that didn't belong.
His foot hovered for half a second too long before landing.
The ground felt—
there.
But not correct.
Like stepping onto something remembered instead of something real.
His breathing shifted.
Too sharp.
Too noticeable.
No—
not noticeable.
Layered.
Each inhale overlapping another version of itself.
Too many.
Too precise.
People moved.
But not normally.
He saw shoulders tense before muscles moved.
Weight shifting before feet followed.
Intent forming—
before action existed.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Trying to focus.
That made it worse.
Details flooded in.
Micro-movements.
Pulse points.
Balance lines.
The slight twitch in someone's fingers before they scratched their cheek.
The exact moment someone decided to speak—
before their lips parted.
Too much.
"…stop."
He wasn't sure if he said it.
Or thought it.
Or heard it.
The courtyard didn't tilt.
It misaligned.
Meaning slipped.
The wall beside him—
for a fraction of a second—
felt like something he'd already touched years ago.
A memory.
Not an object.
Liyo's head snapped up.
He saw it immediately.
Not the stumble. Not the posture.
Something else.
"…again?"
Shura tried to take another step.
The world didn't follow.
Sound—
cut.
Not faded. Not reduced.
Removed.
Silence dropped like a curtain.
Then vision tightened.
Edges pulling inward.
Center sharpening to a painful degree.
Too clear.
Too exact.
Like reality had focused back.
And left him behind.
His foot came down wrong.
His balance broke.
Liyo reacted instantly, his movement smooth and unhurried despite the speed.
His hand caught Shura before the fall completed, gripping his shoulder and pulling him in.
Shura's weight dropped fully this time.
No resistance.
No correction.
His body gave out—
clean.
Gone.
Not unconscious the normal way.
Shut down.
Liyo clicked his tongue under his breath.
Half annoyed.
Half unsurprised.
"You really don't listen, do you…"
He adjusted his grip, shifting Shura properly so he wouldn't slip.
A few people nearby had already turned.
Watching.
One of them tilted his head slightly.
"…What happened?"
Liyo didn't answer immediately.
He looked down at Shura for a second.
Just one.
Checking.
Confirming.
Then he looked up.
And smiled.
Easy.
Casual.
Almost lazy.
"Everything's fine," he said.
"Just dizziness."
A pause.
The answer sat there.
Unconvincing.
Someone scoffed lightly.
"Dizziness doesn't drop people like that."
Liyo's smile didn't change.
"Then you've been doing it wrong."
A couple of quiet laughs broke the tension.
Not enough to erase it.
But enough to move past it.
The man from before stepped closer, gaze lowering to Shura.
His expression didn't stay casual.
Not completely.
"…That's not normal."
Liyo's eyes flicked to him.
Sharp.
Brief.
A warning.
The man caught it.
Held it.
Then exhaled slowly.
"…Right."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then, quieter—
low enough that the others wouldn't catch it—
"Viora?"
Liyo gave a small nod. "...I guess."
He didn't look away.
Just adjusted Shura's weight again.
That was answer enough.
The man's jaw tightened slightly.
"…So that's why," he muttered. "Yeah."
His gaze flicked around the courtyard, checking who might be listening.
Then back.
"Kids keep asking about it," he said quietly. "What Viora is… why we don't teach it."
Liyo's voice dropped.
Flat.
"It's not something you control," he said.
"And it's not something you teach."
A brief pause settled between them.
"…He's too young for this."
The man looked at Shura again.
Longer this time.
More carefully.
"…He pushed too far?"
Liyo started walking.
"He understood something he shouldn't have yet."
"Same thing," the man replied.
Liyo didn't argue.
"…Get him inside," the man added. "Before it rebounds."
Liyo's grip tightened slightly.
"Yeah."
A few steps passed before the man spoke again.
"…You think he knows what he's doing?"
Liyo let out a short breath.
"No."
"…That's worse."
"Yeah."
The man stepped back.
"I'm not carrying him," he added, tone returning to something lighter. "You picked him up—you deal with it."
And just like that—
he turned and walked off.
Liyo watched him go for half a second.
"…Useless," he muttered.
Then shifted Shura again and started forward.
"Take some rest," he added quietly.
Not to Shura.
Not really.
More like a statement directed at the situation itself.
The inner structure rose ahead.
The shift hit immediately.
The open courtyard gave way to stone.
Heavy.
Intentional.
Grey walls stretched upward into narrow spires, each carved with precise, repeating geometry that felt less decorative and more… encoded.
Like the building wasn't made to look impressive.
It was made to hold something.
dreams, hopes… and the ones still young enough to carry them.
Tall archways opened into dim corridors.
Windows—too narrow to be comforting—filtered in muted Beacon light.
Inside—
movement continued.
Students, scattered.
No uniforms.
No order.
Some leaned against walls, half-asleep.
Others worked quietly on broken mechanisms or unfamiliar tools.
A few spoke in low voices, their conversations blending into the background without ever fully disappearing.
No one rushed.
But no one was completely still either.
Liyo didn't slow.
"Room," he called out as he walked. "Now. I'm not explaining twice."
A few heads turned.
One student leaned back against a pillar, arms crossed.
"How lazy are you?" he said casually, eyes dropping to Shura. "Who's that?"
Another voice came from the side.
"Don't tell me you've started bringing in strays."
A couple of soft laughs followed.
Another voice cut in—
"Oh, great. Another prisoner."
A few more chuckles, sharper this time.
"Just like the rest of us, right?"
Liyo didn't stop walking.
"The gate's open," he said flatly. "You want out, walk."
"Outside?" one replied. "We don't mean outside this yard."
"We mean outside the walls."
Liyo slowed slightly.
Just a fraction.
"Then learn what's inside first," he said. "Then decide where you're going."
That quieted things.
Not completely.
But enough.
They watched him instead.
He reached the entrance to one of the inner halls.
Paused.
Then tilted his head slightly without turning.
"I remember who called me lazy," he added. "I'll make sure your meals remember too."
A beat.
Silence.
Then—
every head turned toward the same person.
The student blinked once.
Then looked down at the floor.
"…This stone is nice," he said, tapping it lightly. "Well built."
A few snorted.
Liyo let out a short laugh.
Then pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The noise dropped behind him.
The corridor stretched long and dim.
Warm air.
Still.
Shura didn't move.
Didn't react.
Just weight.