In a quiet bedroom, a young man lay on the bed, fast asleep.
His fingers twitched, his eyelids trembled—his face twisted as if trapped in a nightmare.
"Aaaaaahh!!"
He jolted awake with a sudden shout, eyes snapping open.
His lips quivered, pupils wide in horror.
"Ha… ha... ha…"
His chest rose and fell rapidly, gasping for air. Sweat rolled down his forehead, dampening his slightly long black hair.
"W-where ha-ha… a-am I?"
His eyes darted around, confused.
The room was different—not the crumbling shelter they used to live in.
It wasn't luxurious—far from it.
The room was small, but it was clean. A simple bed, a small table, a few scattered accessories, and a calendar hung on the wall.
His gaze stuck on the calendar.
The calendar itself didn't matter—but the date printed on it did.
"Am I... am I in the past?"
Lucian couldn't believe it.
Just moments ago, he was surrounded by those people… and Lia—
He froze.
His eyes widened, and his heart rate spiked up.
"L-Lia?... Lia? Lia!! AMELIA!!!" He screamed, his voice breaking with panic.
No answer.
"No… no no no—!"
Just as he was about to lose his mind...
"Why are you shouting!?"
The voice came from the door—her voice.
His body trembled.
"L-Lia?" His throat tightened.
His voice cracked.
His eyes welled up as tears spilled down.
"Lia…"
She was standing there.
Alive.
That was all that mattered.
He drew a shaky breath, fingers twitching against the sheets.
"What happened?! Why are you sh—"
Lia stepped closer—and froze.
"H-Hey... are you crying?" Her voice wavered as she hurried to his side.
The sight in front of her made her chest ache.
Her brother had never cried—not when he lost control of his body, not when their parents died.
Even if he did, he didn't show it.
Back then, he had been her pillar, holding her as she broke down.
But now—
She gently grabbed his face.
"W-What happened? Are you hurt? Do you feel any pain? Is everything alright?" She asked in a panic.
She put her hand on his forehead, brushing his hair aside to check if he had a fever.
He didn't.
Other than the sweat, he looked fine.
He stared at her, then smiled faintly through his tears.
"Y-you're alive."
She blinked.
"What?"
He forced a laugh, hoarse and shaky.
"Nothing. Just... a nightmare."
'Huh?' She didn't understand.
"What kind of nightmare does this to you? And why are you sweating so much?" She asked, frowning at him—concern sharp in her tone.
He met her gaze, voice dropping low.
"A nightmare you never want to come true."
His hollow, lifeless eyes made her flinch.
There was something deep in them—fear, loss, and a pain that she couldn't understand.
She crossed her arms, pretending she didn't notice.
"Fine. Just… don't shout like that again. You scared me. I thought... something happened."
Her voice, edged with worry, slowly pulled him back to reality.
"Sorry," he whispered, guilt lacing his tone.
She sighed softly.
Her anger melted away the moment she saw his trembling fingers.
'...Wait.'
Her eyes widened.
"L-Luci… your fingers."
She gently grabbed his hand.
"Huh?"
He blinked, confused—until he felt it.
The warmth of her hand on his. The pressure of her grip.
He could feel her.
Her grip tightened as if afraid it would fade if she let go.
"Luci—brother… y-you... You can feel that?" Her voice trembled, disbelief lacing every word.
Lucien stared at their joined hands and blinked, still dazed.
"Y-yeah" He whispered.
"I can feel… your hand."
Lia's breath hitched.
Her eyes darted between his face and their joined hands, her pulse quickening.
"No way… no way, this—this isn't possible."
Her words came out in a whisper, but her body was trembling harder than his.
He gave a small, uncertain laugh.
"I guess… it is."
For a second, neither of them spoke.
The silence was thick—a tangled web of disbelief, relief, and fear intertwined.
Then Lia suddenly burst into tears.
"You idiot!" She cried, her voice cracking as she hit his chest lightly with her free hand.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier!? Why do you always do this—scaring me half to death!?"
He flinched, but couldn't look away from her.
"I didn't even know until now," he murmured softly.
Her tears fell, dripping onto his blanket.
"You… you really can move?"
"Barely," he admitted, forcing his fingers to twitch again. It was weak, shaky... but he couldn't do anything more than that.
Lia gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.
"Oh god…" she whispered, voice breaking between sobs and laughter.
"You're getting better… you're really getting better!"
Lucien's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Maybe… the nightmare wasn't all bad after all."
Her face twisted slightly.
"Don't say that," She scolded weakly, wiping her tears with the back of her sleeve.
"If that nightmare made you cry like that, I never want to know what it was."
He looked at her, eyes softening.
"…You already know."
She froze. "What?"
He closed his eyes, the faintest shadow of pain crossing his face.
"It was a world… where you didn't exist."
Her throat tightened, and her tears started again—quieter this time.
She sat beside him, resting her head near his hand.
"You're an idiot," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his chest.
"But… I'm glad you're back."
Lucien smiled faintly, his eyes turning toward the ceiling.
"Yeah… me too." He glanced at her, but deep down, he knew...
The nightmare wasn't entirely over.