A soft breeze slipped through the open window.
The curtain swayed gently, following no clear direction.
Near the window—
a girl sat quietly.
Silver hair fell neatly over her shoulders, shifting slightly with the wind.
Her eyes… were red.
Yet they reflected nothing.
---
Her gaze wasn't directed at the classroom.
But outside.
---
A small bird perched on a tree branch.
Still.
Occasionally tilting its head—
then returning to silence.
---
Miria watched it without blinking.
---
"She's there again."
A quiet voice came from behind.
Not far.
---
A young man stood beneath the same tree—outside the classroom.
Lexsas looked up at the bird.
His expression was calm.
As if he saw something more than just a small creature resting on a branch.
---
"It doesn't seem afraid of people."
He murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
---
Inside the classroom—
a chair shifted slightly behind Miria.
---
"If you're bored of looking outside, you could turn around."
The voice was composed. Measured.
A man sat casually in his seat.
His posture straight. His gaze forward—yet occasionally drifting.
---
The Prince.
---
"The view from behind isn't bad either."
---
No response.
---
Miria remained still.
---
Her gaze… didn't change at all.
---
Footsteps approached.
More than one person.
The quiet atmosphere of the classroom—
slowly began to stir.
---
"Hey."
No response.
---
"Miria."
Still nothing.
---
"...Yeah, she's gone."
A chair scraped against the floor.
Someone sat right beside her without asking.
---
"I've been calling you for a while, you know."
---
Miria didn't turn.
---
"What are you doing?"
---
"Watching."
---
"Watching what?"
---
"The bird."
---
Silence.
---
"...Seriously?"
---
"Yes."
---
"Out of everything in the world—you picked a bird?"
---
"It can leave."
---
"Leave?"
---
"Anytime."
---
Her friend paused for a moment.
---
"...That's a weird answer."
---
"No."
---
"It's not?"
---
"It's not."
---
A quiet sigh.
Leaning back in the chair.
---
"Sometimes I really don't get you."
---
"You don't need to."
---
"...Fair enough."
---
A small laugh escaped.
Others began to gather.
Voices overlapped—
light, scattered, unimportant.
---
And yet—
in the middle of it all—
Miria remained still.
---
As if those sounds…
never truly reached her.
---
Someone leaned slightly forward, trying to catch her eyes.
---
"Miria."
---
For the first time—
her red eyes moved.
---
Their gazes met.
---
And for a moment—
the world felt… distant.
---
Quiet.
---
Not because the sounds disappeared—
but because her mind—
stepped away.
---
'That kind of gaze…'
---
It wasn't unfamiliar.
---
---
A small room.
Pale walls.
Stale air.
---
A girl sat alone on the floor.
---
The lights were off.
Only the glow of a phone illuminated her face.
---
A cup of instant noodles rested in her hands.
Already going cold.
---
She ate slowly.
Without expression.
---
On the screen—
a story remained open.
---
"The Winner of One King."
---
Its main character—
Lexsas
---
Someone who always stood at the center of everything.
Someone who was—
never truly alone.
---
'Must be nice.'
---
Her hand paused.
---
'There's always someone who shows up.'
---
She kept reading.
---
One scene.
Then another.
---
Someone arrives to save him.
Someone steps in to help.
Someone appears—
simply because they care.
---
'A good story.'
---
Her eyes lingered on the screen.
---
'Too good.'
---
Silence.
---
No other sounds.
No one else.
---
Only the faint rhythm of her own breathing.
---
And a room that felt…
too empty.
---
'Here…'
---
Her hand moved again.
---
'No one comes.'
---
---
"Miria."
---
The voice pulled her back.
---
The classroom.
The noise.
The people.
---
Everything returned.
---
Her red eyes steadied again.
Flat.
Unchanged.
---
"You were spacing out again, weren't you?"
---
"No."
---
"That's a lie."
---
"Doesn't matter."
---
She turned her gaze back to the window.
---
The bird was still there.
---
Quiet.
---
Unaffected.
---
Miria watched it for a few more seconds.
---
Then—
slowly—
she leaned back.
---
"Miria?"
---
No answer.
---
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
---
And in a low voice—
almost a whisper—
she said:
---
"No one needs to come."
---
The wind slipped in again.
The curtain swayed.
---
And the bird—
finally—
took flight.