The sun waned from the mountains, peeking over jagged hills. Its last embers faded as time had already laced her running shoes. A burst of giggles drove away the shackles that held so many. An amusing yap intertwined with endless laughter. Grass danced to music one couldn't speak of. On its periphery, a small figure flashed by—followed closely by a larger one.
A stick flipped midair. Paws pressed into the ground. Soon, a puppy found itself defying gravity as well. The wind brushed against black fur patched with ash. Jaws hinged open, catching the stick with a calculated snap.
Grey eyes lit up at the sight. Lips curved into a joyful smirk. The boy's brown hair flowed with the breeze.
No matter how much the world tried to stop them, it wasn't possible to stifle their pursuit of fun. The world might as well flip over on its head. His hands rested on his knees, but his body felt light as his gaze drifted toward a lone star. As they lay huffing in the grass, the boy hugged the puppy close.
This was his companion, and with her—anything was possible.
"Hey Chloe, let's play hide and seek! Quick, close your eyes!" The boy jolted to his feet, fists clenched in excitement.
He waited a moment, his smile stretching wide as his eyes sparkled. Lucian blinked. An adorable head tilt greeted him. It was odd, but not unexpected. Chloe didn't move—not because she didn't want to, but because she knew it wasn't just an order.
It was a playful suggestion. Treats were the reward—crunchy, tender to the core, a sensational delight. The problem was… what exactly did he mean?
Her eyes brightened. Rolling onto her back, she began kicking around in the vibrant grass.
"Chloe, that's not what I meant," he whispered helplessly, a wry chuckle escaping. Maybe language was their only barrier. Or maybe there was so much more he didn't know. Perhaps it wasn't even a barrier at all…
"Lucian, get back here, sweetheart! You know what time it is!"
A high-spirited voice cut through the playful air like a hot knife.
The beige-haired boy puffed his cheeks. Arms crossed tight, his head snapped toward the voice. His playmate whined at the sweet, feminine call.
There was still much to be earned—like treats. Absurd as it was, it made him question why water even existed.
"Is bathing even necessary?! Who even came up with the idea?"
"I am not in the mood for a history lesson, dear. I want my daily hug before you freshen up—or else."
Even from afar, her tone made the stars shine brighter. A bead of sweat slid down his cheek. He felt as though the very sky was observing him under a microscope.
A jolt of memory made him yelp. Phantom pains returned—the crushing embrace of her arms, paired with a grin far too innocent to hide its demonic strength. He would rather face a lion's den.
"We're coming. No need to get worked up over nothing," he mumbled, trotting toward the sound.
He tilted his head back, beaming as his stride broke into a dash. Even though it felt like stepping into the unknown, there was comfort in knowing she was there, waiting. Her grey hair—probably the first thing he had ever seen—mingled with the wind, silk strands begging to be touched.
Behind the tall woman stood only a modest abode. A home filled with love, but fleeting in his heart. He had seen it countless times, yet in his mind the image never burned. Each approach felt like stepping into new land, though his mother always remained rooted in place. It had been a while since he explored, but now it felt more familiar than ever.
Kaien was an arrow, flying straight and true. The woman crouched with open arms. She smiled sweetly, her eyes folding into crescent moons. A sparkle flickered in them as he came within reach.
His lips curled instantly. Though he hadn't realized it yet, she was his center. His mother—the only person who brought warmth into his life. Her colorful view melted the glacier this world had become.
But his smirk vanished. As quickly as it came, happiness fled. His gaze had landed elsewhere.
He stopped noticing the dot at the center of the page and began seeing the blankness surrounding it. The same was true here. As his momentum faded, so did everything else around him.
At first, he might not have noticed. But faintly, her cheek was red and swollen. The sparkle in her eyes? A stray tear that had gone unnoticed.
He wanted to know. More than anything, he wanted to wipe away the sorrow she carried.
'Maybe I'm not seeing right.'
But whatever it was, it couldn't be unseen. The image etched itself into his memory. Even if his eyes had lied, the truth felt too heavy to dismiss. His eyes widened. His heart forgot to beat.
It all seemed like a nightmare—until it suddenly clicked.
"What happened to your cheek?" he asked, doubtful.
His mother froze, unprepared for the sudden question. She knew him well, and perception wasn't one of his strengths.
Suddenly, she regretted letting him watch anime so young. It must have exposed him to the wider world.
But she wasn't going to share the truth.
"It's nothing, sweetheart. Just a burn. Now why don't you go inside and freshen up?"
"No. Why would a burn look like a handprint? How did your face get burned anyway?" he pressed with dangerous innocence.
"Really, it's nothing. Now go bathe before I get mad." Her glare was heated.
Lucian lowered his head in submission, walking away with Chloe at his side. "Yes, Mom."
He didn't notice her fingers brushing the sore spot on her cheek. Maybe it was because they both knew—nothing could truly keep them apart.
Light could not reach the room. Darkness pressed in thick, unbroken by anything.
He stood there, a small silhouette alone in the relentless patter of heavy drops. Grey eyes stared through the glass pane, watching raindrops smear into blurred streaks.
His head turned slowly. His gaze drifted toward two blondes, curled beneath bedcovers. Seeking warmth, they edged closer together, faint smiles tearing at the illusion he had tried so hard to craft.
He clenched his fists. He wanted strength he didn't have. A tear slid down his cheek—wiped away quickly by trembling fingers. His dam broke, but he ignored his heart. To him, it was needless baggage.
Turning back to the window, he faced a boy riddled with grief. Orange hair fell wild over his face. His eyes stayed hollow. For a brief instant, blue light flooded the room—only to fade without sparking change. Locks of brown shifted into messy grey.
If only I had known sooner. If I hadn't fallen for her empty promises, then perhaps…
His hand rose into view—stained red with a crimson pigment. Yet it felt dry. He blinked. His hands were spotless.
'Hey Mom...'
'...Can I die now?'