On the third day of classes. Barely begun, the routine had already settled in. The high school had found its shape: faces arranged in circles, routes repeated, prefabbed dialogues.Groups had formed, like sheets of ice frozen over a lukewarm sea. Voices had their territories. Gestures had turned to reflex. And the mistakes… always the same, stubborn, inevitable.
We moved through one of those hallways at 10:10. Hypnos, in the middle, floated slightly out of reality, as if he were walking inside a dream. On his right, Hemera radiated a quiet attentiveness, straight as always, present without trying to shine. She caught the flashes of conversations without answering, absorbing the atmosphere without getting pulled in.
I walked a few steps behind. Not to exclude myself. Just because the gap imposes itself, even when you don't think about it.
That's when she appeared. She came from another corridor, eyes lowered to an open notebook, pen in hand. She wrote as she walked, the lines taking shape as her steps guided her without her looking at them.
The other students, used to her visual absences, drifted around her naturally—like you go around a bench on the sidewalk. But we weren't moving at their pace. And he, even less.
Their paths brought them to cross. The impact was minimal. A brush of shoulders. Enough for the notebook to drop to the floor. Enough for Hypnos to take a half step back.
She lifted her head immediately. Her eyes locked on him with involuntary clarity. There was no fear, no embarrassment. Just pure surprise, limpid.
She recognized him without hesitation and stood still.
I had watched her before. Once or twice. From afar. She didn't give off anything dangerous. Just that kind of silence some humans drag around like a blanket that's too heavy.
Hypnos, true to himself, smiled like the scene had been written for him."Did you kill an idea?" he asked softly, nodding at the notebook on the floor.
She blinked once, then twice. Her gaze went from the notebook to him, then back to the floor."Sorry… I… I was writing while walking."
Her voice had exactly the same timbre as on the previous days. Soft, low, but carried by unfiltered sincerity. She didn't know how to make herself heard louder—but she didn't try to disappear either.
Hemera, a step ahead, had turned around. She laid a hand on her brother's arm, as if to anchor him in the moment."That's dangerous," she murmured with a smile. "Ideas lead you straight into walls."
Maëlys sketched a timid smile. Not wide. Not forced. Just there, like a discreet response from very far away. She bent to pick up her notebook—but Hypnos had already crouched. He handed it to her. Their fingers brushed. She blushed. Her heart stepped sideways, just one extra beat—enough to forget where she was going.
I had stopped a few steps back. Not to avoid the scene, but to watch it unfold better. I watched it the way you watch a drop of water slide down a thread.
But already, a tension. A thread. She resumed walking. Slower. Less centered.
Hypnos turned his head toward me with the smile of those who know exactly what they're setting off."She's like a gentle melody, don't you think?"
I said nothing. He didn't expect me to answer. He just wanted her to hear it. And she had heard it.
She hadn't turned around. But she had slowed. Her stride had changed rhythm. And Hypnos knew it.
At 12:30. The light was whiter than at eleven. More vertical. More alive. It poured through the windows in broad stripes, cut the tables, cast our shadows toward the board.
No one else in the room. Just the three of us. Hypnos. Hemera. Me.
We pulled our desks together. A sort of triangle. A fold. A zone where the rest of the world doesn't pass.
Hypnos sat cross-legged on his chair. The wooden box in front of him, open like an offering. Dried fruit. Tarts. Pieces of raisin brioche. He pecked without order, at random. As if he listened to the food to know what to take.
Hemera drank in small sips, lemon water. Her bento was a miniature of control: steamed vegetables, rice, apple slices. Each compartment arranged with precision. Her meal looked like her mind: organized, colorful, with no spillover.
I had nothing. And I wasn't hungry. But I stayed. The silence was enough.
"You should try this one," Hypnos said, pushing a date toward me."It's stuffed with almonds," Hemera added. "Sweet, but not heavy."
I didn't move. They didn't insist. The date sat for a moment in front of me, on the table. Then I took it. Not to eat it. Not yet. I let it rest in my palm. It was warm. Sticky. Too dense. Too real. It clung to my fingers the way human gestures cling to those who imitate them.
Hypnos let a pomegranate seed fall into his mouth, then tilted his head toward the window, dreamy."You think the two girls eat outside?"
His voice was vague, almost absent. He didn't name Maëlys or Zoé. He didn't need to.
Hemera lifted her eyes from her bento. She chewed slowly, then smiled."The two girls? You've been talking about them a lot these past three days."
She planted her chopsticks in the rice, gently."You're interested in Maëlys, aren't you?"
Hypnos didn't answer right away. He looked at the ceiling. Then his fingers. Then nothing. A very slight smile moved across his lips."She's… peaceful.""Mmh.""That's rare here."
Hemera nodded, as if to validate the observation. Then her gaze slid toward me. She already knew. But she tried anyway."And you, Thanatos? Don't you find them interesting too? — Zoé looked at you twice this morning. Three times, maybe."
I didn't react. I didn't frown. I said nothing. But I knew what those glances contained. Zoé looks like someone setting off an alarm. With pleasure. With noise. With insistence. She doesn't want to understand. She wants to force the obvious to answer her. And me, I don't answer to the obvious.
Hemera smiled."You don't like it when people notice the looks.""He sees them all, though," Hypnos added, offering a fig.
This time, I took it. And I ate it immediately. The sweetness flooded my mouth. Dense, sticky, sugary. A taste that lingered longer than expected.
And the silence returned. Naturally. The room was calm. At that hour, most students preferred the noise of the courtyard, benches too hot under the sun, or the laughter of the cafeteria.
And that's when she walked in. Maëlys.
She entered, notebook in hand, pencil in the other. She hesitated. One step inside. The other hanging. She was looking for an interstice to exist.
We hadn't moved.
Hypnos simply raised his eyes to her, the smile floating from a half-begun dream. Hemera closed her bento softly and inclined her head the barest bit, like an invisible nod, a silent sign: You can.
Me, I did nothing. I watched. Her, them, the moment.
She took her seat at her desk just in front of Hypnos's. Slowly. Carefully. She set down her notebook. Aligned her pencil. Breathed in.
But before tracing anything, she turned slightly. Straight back, eyes evasive."S-sorry… about earlier," she murmured."If every lost idea deserved an apology, I'd be in debt for centuries."
She smiled. A real smile. Brief. Her pencil danced over the paper. Lines. Soft. Fluid. Precise. The pencil slid across the page with a calm confidence. No preparatory sketch. No hesitant outline. Just one stroke, then another, each finding its place without a sound.
Hypnos had leaned a little forward on his chair, elbows on the table, head tilted toward the notebook. He wasn't speaking, but his eyes followed the pencil.
She noticed, she slowed. Then, without turning her head:"Do… do you want to see?"
Hypnos smiled."Only if it's a real 'yes.' Not a 'do you maybe want to…'"
She raised the notebook. A landscape. Three silhouettes. One standing. One seated. One a little behind. He didn't need to ask. He knew."You're good at catching silences," he said."It's easier to draw than to say."
Hemera listened, peaceful. She watched that fragile connection be born. So did I. I didn't understand everything, but I could see it.
Hypnos took another fig, rolled it between his fingers."Have you been drawing a long time?"Maëlys nodded."Since I sleep badly."
He tilted his head slightly."Then you must have a lot of notebooks.""Yes."
She smiled again. Longer this time. And he did too.
The notebook stayed open between them. Hypnos, leaning over the illustration, commented on details in a half-voice. Things only two dreamers can say. Maëlys answered with nods, a few words, a smile sometimes.
Then came footsteps in the hallway. Regular. Quick. And that little sound that always announces her: the click of a lollipop against teeth.
Zoé. She passed in front of the room. The door was ajar. She stopped dead. Half step back. One look. And she saw us.
The lollipop switched sides in her mouth. She pushed the door with a fingertip."Ah, hiding out in here. Cool."
Her voice carried, light, not trying to disturb. She walked in, her stride supple. The lollipop stuck out of her mouth like a live punctuation mark.
Hemera gave her a real, welcoming smile. Hypnos barely lifted his eyes, half curious, half amused. Maëlys startled. Her shoulders tensed, her pencil froze. She glanced at Zoé sidelong, then lowered her eyes, like she was afraid of existing too much.
Zoé didn't need permission. She took a few steps into the room, confident."I was thinking I still hadn't seen any of you four hanging out in the good spots. That's sad."
She scanned the room, quick but attentive, then stopped on Maëlys."You too. I think we've barely crossed paths. Shame, right?"
Maëlys moved her lips, but no words came out. She just dipped her head a little, gaze fixed on her notebook.
Zoé kept it rolling, fluid:"So I figured… might as well do the job no one's done these past three days…"
She took a step and held out her hand: "Zoé Lemoine. I'm in the middle row. Don't know your whole deal yet, but I've got a good memory for names I like."
The lollipop shifted again in her mouth, like a skewed period. And this time, she waited for an answer.
Zoé waited. Her hand stayed outstretched, not too high, not too sure, just enough to say: I'm here if you want to connect.
Hemera moved first. She stood, smoothed her skirt, then approached with that soft serenity, that calm, dignified bearing that made her impossible to ignore without causing a lack."Hemera Minas. Pleased to meet you."
She shook Zoé's hand, gently."We noticed you, you know. Since the first day."
Zoé smiled, surprised."Oh? What gave me away?""The way you walked into the room. Like it already belonged to you."
Zoé laughed softly, a real laugh, not a dodge."I'm just trying to dodge oblivion. I hate that.""You don't have to worry," Hemera said. "No one here has forgotten you."
Hypnos had half stood, leaning forward, hand on the desk, his gaze still a little elsewhere."I'm Hypnos," he said. "You've probably seen me sleeping in class, but they forgive me—I do it well.""Three times," Zoé smiled. "And three times you answered right when called on. Impressive.""I multitask."
She studied him for a beat."And your names… sound like a riddle.""That's on purpose," Hypnos replied, smiling. "We're here to create a slight disturbance."
She snickered, then turned to Maëlys."And you?"
Maëlys hesitated. Her notebook trembled a little in her hands. She didn't lift her eyes right away. Her voice was barely a breath:"Maëlys… Delorme."
Her voice lacked confidence, but not sincerity.
Zoé didn't try to fill the gap. She nodded, simple, then said:"I like your style. You draw like you're trying to repair the silence."
Maëlys parted her lips slightly, surprised, but didn't answer.
Zoé didn't take offense. She simply stepped aside.And that's when she finally looked at me. No step back. No hesitation. But not that pushy insistence some people have when they want to prove they're not afraid. She came closer calmly, eyes locked on mine, and held out her hand in a simple, almost offhand gesture. I didn't take it. I drew back just a hair, an almost imperceptible move, but enough to mark the distance, folding my arms slowly without a word. She seemed neither surprised nor offended.
She faced me, planted in her steady poise. Her gaze caught mine. And, as always with her, the top of her shirt was slightly open. Leaning a little, she offered a discreet glimpse of her chest—not deliberately provocative, but… impossible to ignore when you're standing right in front of her.
She held out her hand."And you… Thanatos, right?" I didn't answer. Not out of hostility. Because she hadn't asked anything. She didn't insist. She just said, letting the lollipop turn in her mouth:"I'm guessing you're not the talkative type. But if you ever change your mind… I'm not far."
And she sat down. Not far. At the desk right next to Hemera. A choice. Not too close. Not too distant. A balance. Zoé sat like the chair had been waiting for her all along. She kept the lollipop at her lips, holding it between two fingers.
But before the conversation could start up again, Hemera placed a calm hand on the table and said softly, without turning her head:"Don't take it personally. He doesn't like contact, especially when he's not prepared for it."
Zoé turned to her, surprised, but not annoyed."It's fine. He's allowed."
Hemera added, lower:"He's not rejecting. He's protecting himself."
She looked at us. Not like the other students. Not with that anxious curiosity or that awkward admiration. She observed to understand, not to judge."What's the story? I mean… I know you three are family, but have you always been this close? And Maëlys, is this brand-new or did I sleep through an episode?"
Hypnos shrugged, a little amused."We were born in the same silence. It stuck.""But the circle widens sometimes," Hemera added, a gentle glance toward Maëlys. "When the energy is right."
Zoé turned to Maëlys, who straightened a little in her chair, a bit caught off guard. She hesitated, like speaking too loudly might break something."I… I just wanted a quiet place to draw. And they were here. But… it didn't bother me."She blushed, lowering her eyes to her notebook.
Zoé nodded, an easy smile."Then you just found your corner at the right time."
Maëlys stiffened a bit. She kept the notebook on her knees, but her fingers had stopped moving. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then breathed, more than spoke:"No… not really."
Her voice snagged halfway up her throat. She stared at the floor, as if the words had slipped out before she had time to filter them. Zoé didn't laugh. Didn't push. She accepted the incomplete answer the way you accept a hesitant hand.She leaned back, hands laced behind her neck."Perfect. I love when stories weave themselves like that."
"Anyway, you've got your own style," Zoé went on.Maëlys lifted her eyes, just for a second."I… thank you."She immediately dropped her gaze to her lap, without touching her pencil."You should join the art club," Zoé suggested, no pressure. "There are great people. And… I think they'd like what you do."Maëlys shook her head. Not sharply. More like someone who's known it for a long time."No. It's… too much. Too many people. Too much noise. Too much…"
She didn't finish. But no one needed her to. Hemera watched her, elbows on the table, fingers interlaced. She said nothing, but she listened, wholly.
Zoé nodded, with surprising understanding."I get it."She smiled, softer."Okay, then we'll invent a quiet club. Reserved for compatible souls."
Hypnos looked up, dreamy:"Club of dreaming silence. Invitation only.""Perfect," Zoé said. "I love blurry rules."
She leaned back again, hands behind her neck. A posture of supple confidence. Someone who doesn't look for her place—she sets it down.Her eyes slid back to me. I hadn't moved. But she knew I was following everything."And you?"She didn't force anything. Her voice stayed light."Do you stay outside by choice or on principle?"
I didn't answer. Not out of contempt. Because the question was too broad. Too loud.She waited. Two seconds. Three.Then lifted her shoulders slightly."Okay. I like silent spectators."
She could've stopped there. But Hemera spoke first, laying a calm hand on the table, her eyes turned to Zoé with kindness."He's not very talkative. Not because he rejects us."She let a silence pass, then lower:"But… people who are too alive, sometimes, make noise where he's looking for quiet."Zoé raised an eyebrow, but didn't take it badly."I'll try not to shout, then."Hypnos stretched a vague smile."You just earned a point.""Cool. How many points to officially get into the quiet club?""Five," Hypnos said. "But we haven't set the criteria yet.""Perfect. I love games without rules."
She let her head fall against the back of the chair, with a relieved breath. And this time, yes: she was there. Not just physically. She'd found a spot inside the silence, without breaking it.
The light had shifted. Less vertical. Softer. More golden.
And I was still there. Silent. Watching the invisible trajectories. A new dot had appeared on our map. A living dot, too bright for me. But maybe the others needed it. And me… all I could do was watch. Understand? Not always. But see… that I could do.
Zoé stretched gently, straightening her back as if she were coming out of a too-short dream. She picked up her lollipop from the edge of the table, tucked it between her lips, then stood."I've got to bounce. There are people who'll come looking for me if I go too long without talking."
She spoke with that easy poise that never asks permission, but doesn't impose either. She turned toward the door, hand already on the handle, then tossed over her shoulder:"I'll be back in two minutes. Save me the best seat."
She closed the door softly behind her. Silence took its place again at once. Not heavy. Just… suspended.
Maëlys had lowered her notebook slightly. But she wasn't drawing. Not yet.Her eyes stayed on the closed door, as if she were waiting for Zoé to reappear. A hesitation flickered through her posture, light, then her voice slipped out, almost not believing it:"She talked to me."
Not a question. Not theatrical surprise. More like a thought out loud, fragile, as if she doubted it had really happened.
Hemera, still straight, hands folded in front of her, offered a peaceful smile."Of course she talked to you.""No but… really. To me."
She was still staring at the door, pencil motionless in her hand."She knows everyone. She talks to everyone. Me, no one ever talks to me first."
Hypnos, elbow on the table, chin in his palm, answered without lifting his eyes:"You're someone people notice slowly."Maëlys turned her head to him, brows drawn."Is that a polite way to say I'm invisible?"He gave a calm, far-off smile."No. It's a poetic way to say you exist in silence… but some know how to listen to it."
She didn't answer. But she smiled. And blushed. Just a little.
Hemera picked up gently, her voice like a blanket laid over your shoulders:"Zoé notices people who don't shout."Maëlys lowered her eyes to her notebook, without opening it."But she talks a lot.""Yes." "Then why did she see me?"
Hemera thought for a second. Then said:"Because she makes noise. Not to be heard. But so no one feels alone in the silence."
And Maëlys, this time, kept quiet. Not to run away. To think. Silence had taken back its place. Not quite the same as before, but close enough.
And that's when I spoke. One sentence. Nothing more."She moved too much air."
Not said sharply. Not loud. A simple observation.
Hypnos looked up at me, amused."You prefer when the air stays still?""It's easier to read."
Hemera muffled a smile behind her hand, then turned to Maëlys with a glint of calm mischief."What my brother is trying to say," she added softly, "is that he doesn't like when someone stirs the water too fast."Hypnos added, teasing:"And she hasn't even kicked up waves yet."
Maëlys looked from one to the other. Then her eyes landed on me, briefly. She said nothing. But I saw the astonishment pass in her gaze. No fear. No judgment. Just that specific surprise of those who've just heard someone say out loud what they'd never have dared think.
The afternoon stretched without a sound. And finally classes ended and the sun already began to lean. The light, lower, came through the windows horizontally, stretching shadows like lingering memories. The day was winding down.
Students left their rooms in a disorderly flow. Bags on shoulders, half-murmured jokes, fatigue hidden under fake bursts of voices.
We, as always, stayed back. Not because we were waiting. Just because we didn't need to rush. Maëlys packed her things methodically. Her notebook tucked neatly between two books, like a fragile piece you protect without thinking.
Hemera, standing near her, smiled softly."Are you heading home alone?" she asked."Yeah… I take the bus," Maëlys answered, tugging a bit at her zipper.
Hemera nodded, calm."We take the same one. It goes through the central square, right?""Yes. Stops 6 and 7," Maëlys murmured, a little surprised.
Hypnos, sitting on the desk behind her, swung his legs in the air like a dreamy kid."Then we'll do part of the way together tomorrow."Maëlys looked up, surprised."Really?""Why not?" Hemera answered, calmly adjusting her bag strap.
She added with a wider smile, almost conspiratorial: "I love my brothers, you know. But having another girl in the group would do me good." The tone was light, without expectations. Just an invitation.
She took out her phone, held it out gently."Give me your number? It'll be easier for tomorrow. And… that way, you'll know we're counting on you."
Maëlys hesitated a second. Then pulled out her phone."Okay."
Their fingers barely crossed. Screens lit up. A discreet exchange. No promises, but the clear trace of a bond being woven.
Maëlys looked at Hypnos. Then Hemera. And finally, almost despite herself, her gaze slid to me. I hadn't moved. But I felt it—that fragile moment between two worlds.
Hypnos leaned toward her, a soft smile hanging at the corner of his lips, hands folded over his bag."If he didn't want you here… trust me, you'd know."
She blinked. Then smiled. Not big. Not blazing. But real. "Thank you."
She gripped her strap a little tighter. And for the first time, maybe, she wasn't on the periphery anymore. She was part of the circle.
That evening at home, I had changed clothes. Soft fabric. Familiar warmth. I was in my corner by the fireplace. In my fold. Buried under blankets, ringed with cushions. Almost invisible. Deliberately blurred.
Mother was in the kitchen. Hemera chopped herbs. Hypnos snacked, talked more than he helped."…she really said yes," Hemera was saying, mincing herbs. "Tomorrow she'll take the bus with us.""She looked happy," Hypnos added. "Even if she didn't say it."
I heard Mother's smile."She was alone. It's good that she found you.""Well… she found Hypnos first," Hemera said.Mother smiled, a little surprised. "Yeah, we bumped into each other a bit in the hallway, but it wasn't on purpose. And then… it's also thanks to Zoé," Hypnos said. "Ah yes… the tornado," Hemera breathed, halfway between amusement and fatigue.
A sound, a plate being set down. "Did she talk to you long?""To all of us," Hemera answered.
A very slight silence. Then Hypnos added: "Even to him." "To Thanatos?" Mother said, lifting her head."He answered with a very eloquent silence.""He said she 'moved too much air.'"
Mother froze for a second. Then resumed her motions, slowly."Is that why he's more… silent tonight?" "Maybe," Hypnos said. "Or maybe she woke something up," Hemera added. "But he doesn't like it when something moves too fast around him."
I hadn't moved. But I listened. And I knew they were saying all that for me. Not to force me to speak. Just… to reach me, from a distance.
Oizys arrived, silent. Bare feet. She held her stuffed panther against her. She slipped into the circle. Lay down against me. Her head on my arm. Breathing matching mine. She understands my silence better than I do.
And that night, even Mother said nothing. She left us there. Together, in the silence no one had tried to fill.
The familiar voices had given way to a slower, more muffled breathing. In the big common room, the fire was finishing its burn, its light barely swaying on the walls. The shadows almost didn't move.
I hadn't left my refuge of throws and cushions. The warmth of the hearth was soft, steady, as if suspended in time.
Oizys, long curled up against me, finally got up without a sound.She looked at me one last time, eyelids already heavy, before disappearing upstairs, her plush under her arm.
I thought I was alone. But Mother was there. I hadn't heard her come."You're not sleeping," she said.
Her voice, always calm, fell into the silence like a drop of water into a still lake.
She didn't approach right away. Then she sat in the big armchair by the fire, the one she often took when she wanted to talk, or just keep watch. She crossed her legs slowly, eyes on the flames, not seeking mine."They told me you spoke today. Or at least what you thought of that girl… Zoé."She paused."That you thought she 'moved too much air.'"
She repeated the words as if they carried an old meaning, a forgotten symbol."You don't like that, do you? When things move too fast around you. When a presence arrives too quickly. When it impresses movements we didn't choose."
She wasn't smiling. She wasn't judging. It was just a truth she laid down, so it could exist somewhere other than in my head."But sometimes, it's not the speed that bothers us." She paused. "It's what it touches in us. What it wakes. What we'd rather keep asleep."
Then she stood. "You can stay in the silence as long as you want." She took a step. Hand on the handle."But you don't have to stay there alone."
She took a step, then stopped one last time, back to me."It's not the silence that weighs on me."
My voice was flat. No warmth. No trouble."It's the agitation. It gets in even when the door is closed."
She didn't answer. But I could feel her smile. Then she left. The fire died slowly. And I stayed there. Motionless, in a room still full of life.