Soren's eyes fluttered open to the golden glow of morning spilling across the infirmary.
For the first time in what felt like ages, his chest wasn't heavy.
His heart was steady, lighter than usual, as if the shadows he carried had thinned during the night.
More than that, his hand felt warm, not from his own magic, but from something real.
He didn't want to let go of the pleasant feeling in his palm.
When he shifted his gaze downward, he found the source.
Lilliana was slumped against the side of his bed, her cheek pressed into the blanket.
A thin line of drool marked the fabric, catching the morning light in the most undignified way possible.
Her small pink ears twitched faintly, reacting to the gentle breeze even in sleep, and her fingers were curled tightly around his own.
She clutched it close, as though it were something precious.
Soren blinked slowly, almost uncertain if the scene before him was real.
After everything he had gone through, after all the nightmares and guilt, the sight of her asleep in such a messy and unguarded state was something that loosened the last of the weight pressing against his chest.
Time slipped by unnoticed as he stared at her.
Her breathing was soft and steady.
Each tiny exhale brushed against the blanket, her freckled nose scrunching every time the morning light touched her face.
Both hands still desperately gripped his.
His heart warmed at the feeling transmitted through her touch.
Even the drool that most would find unsightly only made her seem more endearing to him.
He felt his lips tug into a quiet smile.
'So cute,' he thought.
Every action she made eased something inside of him, her very presence chasing away the bitter taste of last night's nightmare.
Minutes passed.
He didn't move.
He didn't dare, afraid she might be awoken if he so much as shifted his fingers.
Instead, he simply let himself watch her, let the calmness settle into his body.
For once, he wasn't fighting through the thoughts in his head.
Eventually, Lilliana stirred.
Her ears twitched again, her nose wrinkling as she murmured something half-coherent.
Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open, revealing lime green eyes hazy with sleep.
She sat up a little, rubbing her drool-stained cheek with the back of her hand.
Then her gaze fell on their joined hands, still locked together, and realisation dawned.
Her eyes widened, and a blush spread across her cheeks so quickly that Soren nearly laughed.
She tried to speak, but the words tangled in her throat, leaving only a squeak as she pulled one of her hands free to wipe the drool from Soren's hand with her sleeve and cover her face.
"I-I'm sorry… I-I didn't…" she stammered, ears twitching furiously as she tried to compose herself.
For a moment, Soren thought that she might completely let go of his hand, but her fingers tightened instead, surprising him.
Soren locked eyes with Lilliana, amusement evident in the grin on his face.
"You drooled by the way," he said, his voice gentle yet mischievous.
Her whole body stiffened.
"T-that's—! Ugh, just… just forget it!"
She buried her face into the blanket, her small, cotton-ball-like tail twitching.
Yet even in her embarrassment, she still didn't release his hand.
The flustered panic gradually softened as she peeked up at him again.
Her blush lingered, but her expression shifted into one gentler.
It was the same look she always gave him when she was worried.
Her voice softened, and a maternal warmth was evident in her words.
"Are you… feeling better?" she asked quietly, her eyes searching for his.
There was no playfulness in her tone now, only concern.
She brushed at his hair with her free hand, tucking loose strands aside, her gaze fixed on his face as she waited for his answer.
Soren held her eyes for a long moment.
He could still feel the echoes of his guilt, the weight of all he had lost, but it no longer felt suffocating.
Not while she was here.
Not while her warmth was still wrapped around his hand.
"...Yeah," he said finally. "Better than I have in a long time."
Lilliana smiled faintly at his words, relief softening the tension in her shoulders.
She didn't say anything right away; instead, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, as if to remind him that she was still there.
That was enough.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
The next day, an academy-wide assembly was held.
Dorothy Ibrahim took the stage, her presence commanding silence before she even began to speak.
The heavy curtain drawn back behind her gave no colour or grandeur to the auditorium; everything about the space seemed subdued, as if the very walls knew this was not a time for celebration.
Students filled the seats in tense quiet, their expressions varied: the third and fourth years wore grim looks, the hardened faces of young soldiers who had already glimpsed the chaos of real battle.
In contrast, the first and second years were far more shaken.
Their anxious gazes darted about; some of the first-years, especially, clung to their friends for comfort, while others stared down at the floor as though afraid to meet anyone's eyes.
Everyone waited with bated breath.
Dorothy stood tall, dressed in the deep black robes with golden accents that signified Stellaris Academy.
Her bright hair was tied back neatly, and her sharp eyes were steady as she swept her gaze over the auditorium.
When she finally spoke, her voice was clear and steady.
"Students of Stellaris Academy," she began, her words echoing across the hall. "We are gathered here not in triumph of another semester completed, but in mourning of the lives that were taken from us only days ago."
A ripple of discomfort moved through the seats.
Some students flinched at the bluntness of her statement; others nodded silently, grateful for the honesty.
Dorothy's gaze lowered for a moment, her hands folded before her.
"Six of our own were lost to us. They were sons and daughters, friends and rivals, comrades who believed that within these walls, they were safe. And yet, safety was broken. It was stolen from us by a demon who infiltrated our home."
Soren watched her with a mixture of admiration and bitterness.
'At least she isn't sugarcoating it,' he thought.
But only he knew that this was only the beginning.
Dorothy raised her head, her voice steady.
"To those who grieve, know that the Academy grieves with you. Their names will not be forgotten. They will be remembered not as victims, but as students who strove for greatness, who believed in a brighter tomorrow. For their sake, we will not falter."
There were muffled sobs from somewhere in the hall.
Soren's ears caught them, and though he did not turn his head, the sound pressed against his chest.
"I will not pretend this failure is anything less than what it is. A breach of trust," Dorothy continued. "Stellaris Academy was created by our founder for the sole purpose of protecting and nurturing talents without fear. And yet, danger found its way inside. For that, I bear responsibility."
A murmur went through the crowd.
Some students looked shocked at the admission, and a few of the older ones nodded with bitter faces.
To admit fault, Soren realised, was rare for someone in power, both here and on earth.
It struck him how much weight those words carried for the young, still-developing students in the auditorium.
"But know this," she pressed on, her voice rising. "I will not allow it to happen again. Measures are already being taken. Our defences will be restructured. Our alliances called upon. The Academy must remain what our founder intended it to be. You have my vow, what happened here will not be repeated."
Soren's stomach turned.
He knew better.
He knew promises like that were fragile things, easily broken in the face of what was coming.
Still, he could not fault her for making it.
Her words sparked hope in the anxious students.
Dorothy let her tone soften as she shifted her gaze towards Soren's direction.
"To our first-year students. I know the burden placed upon you was greater than you deserved. Your final exam was disrupted, and your efforts marred by tragedy. Let me say this clearly, you will not be required to redo the eam. Your performance, interrupted though it was, is proof enough of your progress."
The tension of the younger students cracked slightly, relief spreading among them.
Soren saw shoulders relax and heard a few sighs escape.
For those who had already been carrying fear and guilt, it was a mercy.
"As we move forward," Dorothy concluded, "do not let this tragedy bind you in despair. Instead, let it remind us all why we train and strive. Evil does not wait for us to be ready. But together, we can ensure its shadow is pushed back, again and again. For those we lost, and for those yet to be saved, we must move forward."
Her final words rang through the silence.
She bowed her head once, then stepped back from the podium.
The hall remained quiet.
No applause.
No cheers.
Just silence.
Heavy, suffocating silence.
Students absorbed her words in their own ways: some wiped away tears, some clenched fists, and some stared off into nothing at all.
Soren sat still, his gaze lingering on the now-empty stage.
Dorothy's speech had been everything it needed to be: honest, respectful, resolute.
But to him, it was hollow.
He knew the future.
He knew this would not be the last time students died within these walls.
As the assembly slowly dissolved, students filing out in hushed clusters, Soren rose to his feet.
Lilliana gave him a worried glance, but he shook his head lightly.
He was fine.
The dark feeling still faintly lingered within his chest, but it wasn't enough to worry about.
He stepped out of the auditorium into the bright sunlight.
The sky was clear, and the sun was vibrant.
Summer break had arrived.
Soren exhaled slowly.
'It's time to go home.'
————「❤︎」————