Chapter 3 – A Soft Awakening
The world around me was drifting away, the sounds of chaos fading into a dull hum. My body felt weightless… then heavy… then nothing at all. Darkness swallowed my senses, and I surrendered to it.
Somewhere far away, voices shouted, tires screeched, sirens wailed. A cold wind brushed my skin, then warmth — hands, firm yet gentle, holding me as if I were something precious.
When I finally woke again, it was to the faint scent of flowers and something sweet, mixed with the sterile smell of disinfectant. My head rested on… something soft. Warm.
I shifted slightly, and a faint, rhythmic pressure passed over my hair. A hand. Someone was patting my head.
For a brief, hazy moment, I let myself sink into it. My body, for the first time in years, felt safe. My eyelids fluttered open, heavy with sleep, and the blurry outline above me sharpened.
Long, golden hair framed a face lit by the soft glow of the setting sun through the hospital window. Crimson eyes — the same ones from my dream — gazed down at me with quiet relief.
Celestia.
She was humming something faint, almost a lullaby, her lips curved in a tender smile. My cheek warmed against her lap, the fabric of her skirt smooth under my skin. I almost… closed my eyes again.
Then the realization hit.
My head… was in her lap.
My face flushed instantly. Heat raced up my neck to my ears. My hands twitched as if unsure whether to push myself up or stay completely still.
I shot my eyes open, the world suddenly too bright. "Ah—w-wait—!?" I tried to sit up, but the gentle weight of her hand pressed against my shoulder, halting me.
"Please," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper, "don't move. You need to rest."
Her tone was caring but left no room for argument. I froze.
"W-What's happening here…?" My words came out more awkward than I intended. My ears burned.
A soft blush dusted her cheeks. She looked down briefly before answering, her voice shy but steady. "You looked uncomfortable while sleeping… and you seemed like you were having a nightmare. I thought this might help."
For a moment, I couldn't speak. The warmth of her lap, the faint scent of her hair, the weight of her gaze — it was almost too much.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to focus. "Right… the accident… Are you okay? You didn't get hurt, right?"
Her lips curved into a small smile tinged with something else — something almost like reproach. "Thanks to you."
Only now did I realize my own state. My head was wrapped in bandages, my right leg heavily dressed. Pain throbbed faintly in my back every time I shifted. I looked like I'd lost a fight with a brick wall.
"Can I… know your name?" The question left my mouth before I could think.
Her smile softened. "Celestia. But you can call me Celi."
Celi. The name suited her.
"I—ah—nice to—ugh…" A sharp stab of pain shot through my side mid-sentence, cutting me off.
Her eyes widened. "Careful!" She leaned forward slightly, worry flickering across her face. Then her expression gentled again. "You don't have to introduce yourself. I already know your name, Leon."
My brows knit together. "You… know me?"
Her eyes held mine, steady and certain. "This isn't the first time we've met."
A chill ran through me. "Have we… really met before?"
Her answer was simple. "Yesterday. You saw it, didn't you? The dream."
I froze. The image of her in that strange, beautiful world came rushing back — the way her crimson eyes had filled with tears when I turned away.
Before I could question her, she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a murmur. "Don't overthink it now. I'll explain everything… but not here. There are too many ears in this place."
Her seriousness caught me off guard. My heart thumped against my ribs. What was so important that it couldn't be said here?
Still uneasy, I asked the one thing that had been gnawing at me. "Celi… during the accident, I know my right leg was broken. I couldn't even feel it. But now…" I glanced down — my leg looked almost fine, save for minor dressings.
She smiled faintly, though her eyes gave nothing away. "Like I said, I'll tell you when we get to your place. For now… rest."
Her hand gently came to rest over my eyes, blocking the light. Her touch was warm — reassuring in a way I didn't understand. My breathing slowed without meaning to.
Before I knew it, I was asleep again.
When I drifted off, she carefully shifted me onto the bed and stood. "Sleep well… we'll talk soon," she murmured, almost to herself.
Later, she returned with a tray of food and water. Night had fallen outside. But as she stepped into the hospital corridor, her pace slowed.
Something felt wrong.
The air grew heavy, almost suffocating. A strange, unpleasant energy pulsed faintly, making her skin prickle.
Then — silence. The hallway froze mid-motion. A nurse mid-step. A curtain swaying in place. Even the clock hands refused to move.
And in the center of that unnatural stillness… a shadowed figure stood, watching her.
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