Ren Kai arrived early at school, though he hadn't meant to.
The gates weren't even open yet, but the main courtyard buzzed faintly with the sounds of custodians sweeping wet leaves and a few early birds murmuring to each other. The city had rained again last night. Everything still smelled like petrichor and wet stone.
He leaned his back against the smooth school wall, arms crossed, earbuds in—but no music playing. Just silence.
It wasn't unusual for him to show up ahead of time. No one really questioned it. Ren Kai was one of those people who seemed to glide through life without ever running. He wasn't late, wasn't loud, wasn't particularly interested in explaining himself.
And maybe that's why people gravitated toward him anyway.
***
By the time the bell rang, the campus had come alive—uniforms, chatter, the familiar rhythm of lockers slamming, shoes squeaking, and the shrill whistle of Coach Jiang reminding students that being a minute late to PE was a cardinal sin.
Ren Kai moved through it all like someone underwater—aware, but untouched.
He nodded once at kenzo, who tossed him a protein bar across the bench without looking.
"Eat," kenzo said. "You forgot again?"
Ren Kai shrugged and pocketed it. They never talked much in the mornings. That was just their rhythm—quiet loyalty, no pressure.
Yuki joined them moments later, cheeks slightly flushed from her jog.
"You're both insufferably calm. I hate it," she said, breathless but grinning. She sat beside Ren Kai, tying her hair back. "Did you even sleep?"
"A little," Kai said.
"You always say that. Be honest. You dreamt of floating upside down in the void again or something."
Ren Kai paused. He gave her a blank look, but not in annoyance. It was more… thoughtful.
He had dreamt. But he couldn't remember what. Not a single shape or voice. Just a strange coldness and—briefly—a shape on fire.
Maybe a circle, maybe a sigil. It was gone now.
***
Classes started.
Ren Kai didn't speak much in class either, but when called upon, he was precise. Not robotic, not dismissive—just… measured. Like someone always watching life from the side.
But somewhere between second period and lunch, it happened again.
That note.
Barely audible. Like someone tuning a flute far away. A single melody thread, fragile and out of place, as if reality had a crack and sound was slipping through.
He blinked and shook his head. The classroom was normal. Mr. Wen was lecturing about historical cycles and empires.
Nobody else seemed to notice.
Kai scribbled something mindlessly on the corner of his notebook.
A looping symbol. Not quite a circle. Not quite a spiral.
Then he turned the page before even noticing it.
***
Ren Kai and Yuze had an unspoken arrangement—they ate on the rooftop whenever it wasn't raining. It wasn't technically allowed, but no one stopped them anymore.
Today, yuki brought extra dumplings.
"You'll owe me later," she said, poking a chopstick at Kai. "And not in cryptic silence."
Kai gave her a sideways smile. "I'll repay you in mysterious head nods."
"I swear, you're an ancient man trapped in a 17-year-old's body," she muttered.
Ren Kai didn't reply. Not because he disagreed. Because a part of him wondered if that might not be entirely wrong.
***
His last class ended early. As the sun dipped behind the western spires, Ren Kai found himself near the old bell tower—the one nobody used anymore.
He had no real reason to walk past it, but his feet led him there anyway.
The ivy had grown thick around the base, but a small alcove beside the door was just visible.
And in that alcove, something had been scratched into the stone.
Ren Kai didn't crouch, didn't touch it. Just looked.
It was worn—faint. But unmistakable.
The same symbol he'd drawn earlier.
Same shape. Same strange loop.
He stared at it for a while, expression unreadable.
Then his phone buzzed. A message from Yuki:
"Don't vanish again. Group study at mine? Bring your poker face."
Ren Kai looked once more at the stone, then turned and walked away.
***
The house was quiet when he got home. Of course it was.
The maids had left food in the warmer. His parents were still in Geneva, attending a diplomatic summit. No one spoke at the door. No one asked about his day.
In his room, he showered, changed, and sat by the window.
His fingers tapped lightly against the glass. A rhythm he didn't recognize. Or did he?
The same three syllables flickered through his mind again. A name. A word.
He frowned.
Did it start with L?