The room was a patchwork of dreams and strangeness. Cushions were piled in every corner, like the aftermath of a giant’s pillow fight. They were of every conceivable size and shape, in hues that ranged from the softest pastels to the deepest, richest colors that seemed to absorb the dim light. Speaking of which, the room was lit by a series of violet lanterns, small and delicate, casting a gentle, almost ethereal glow over everything. The light wasn’t quite enough to banish the shadows, but it painted them in such a way that they became part of the room’s peculiar charm rather than something to be afraid of. The atmosphere was thick with quiet, the kind of quiet that wraps around you, filling your ears until you’re not sure if the silence is outside or within you.

Owls dotted the room, each one an odd little guardian of the place. Some were asleep, their heads tucked neatly under their wings. Others were awake, their eyes wide and unblinking, watching with a kind of patient wisdom that only owls seem to possess. A few were busy cleaning themselves, meticulously preening their feathers, as if preparing for some grand owl parade.

In the midst of all this, Saya sat cross-legged on a particularly squishy cushion, her posture rigid and serious, the exact opposite of the red-haired boy who sat across from her. He was grinning, that kind of cheeky grin that made him look like he was about to reveal the punchline of a joke that only he knew. His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something else there too—an eagerness, a genuine excitement that made his whole face light up.

The boy’s grin was infectious, the kind of smile that could make even the most stoic person crack. But Saya wasn’t stoic—she was focused, intense, every nerve in her body tuned to the moment, ready for whatever was about to come.

“I’m going to teach you magic,” he declared, his voice full of confidence, his grin not fading one bit. “Or, you know, how to work on your imagination. Same thing, really.”

He said it with the same casual tone one might use to offer someone a cup of tea, but the words hit Saya like a jolt of electricity. Saya’s heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped her lips. She had been desperate for this, eager to learn, to understand this strange new world she had found herself in. Her seriousness deepened, a steely resolve settling into her eyes as she nodded, almost imperceptibly.

The boy’s grin widened at her reaction. “I’ve seen your talent,” he continued, his tone now laced with a hint of pride, like he was unveiling a precious secret. “And since you really want to know everything about this world, I thought we might as well start with the cool powers. The fun stuff.” 

Saya nodded, the seriousness in her eyes deepening. Imagination was something she understood, something she had always had a knack for. But this was different. This was real, tangible, the kind of magic that could reshape reality if you knew how to wield it. And she wanted to know everything.

He paused, as if to let the gravity of his words sink in. “So, how about it? Ready to learn?”

Saya’s response was immediate, almost reflexive. “Yes!” she said, her voice firm. “I promise I’ll do my best!” The words came out a little louder than she intended, echoing slightly in the cushion-filled room, but she didn’t care. Her mind was already whirring, thoughts racing ahead, fueled by a potent mix of excitement and determination.

The boy nodded, clearly pleased. “Cool. Then,” he began, settling into a more comfortable position, ready to explain. “Here’s how it works for me. Usually, I just think of something—anything, really—and I picture it really clearly in my head. The more details, the better. When I first started two years ago, it was always about something I really, really needed to change. Something I wanted super bad.”

Saya’s mind started to drift, the boy’s words melting into the background like distant music. Desperation. The word echoed in her head, pulling her into her own thoughts. A strong will. She had felt those things before. In fact, they had been her constant companions, driving her to push beyond her limits, to do things she never thought possible.

As the boy’s voice droned on, she let her mind wander, not out of disinterest, but because she suddenly needed to understand something crucial. Her attention had shifted inward, to the room itself, to the way it felt around her, the way it pulsed with a kind of quiet energy that she hadn’t noticed before. It was as if the room was alive, responding to her thoughts, her emotions. Something that was beginning to form at the edge of her consciousness, like a shape emerging from the fog.

Her eyes drifted around the room, seeing but not really seeing, as her mind began to feel the room instead. The cushions, the owls, the lanterns—the whole place hummed with a kind of quiet energy that she hadn’t noticed before. It was as if the room itself was alive, pulsing gently in time with her thoughts.

She focused on the cushion in front of her. It was plump, soft, and inviting, but Saya didn’t want it to be a cushion. She wanted it to be something else. Something useful.

A table, perhaps. Yes, a table.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and let the image of a table form in her mind. She could see it clearly—a flat, hard surface, with four sturdy legs. Simple, practical, nothing fancy. Just a table. Well, maybe she could try to make it at least a bit appealing.

Come on, Saya, she urged herself, her inner voice firm but encouraging. You can do this. It’s just a table. A hard surface, four legs. Easy. You can do it.

After a while she felt it—a subtle shift in the air, a ripple of energy that seemed to pass through her, through the room. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there. 

HOOT HOOT

Those creepy owls… It was hard enough even without all the rustling and screeching but Saya had always been easy to distract. No! Focus. Stay calm.

Her heart quickened, and she pushed harder, focusing all her will on- 

HOOT

TABLE! Gaaah! Hard surface with four legs, Saya! This couldn‘t be so hard.

Once again she started focusing the rest of her will on that cushion, on turning it into a table. 

Did it work? I don’t feel anything.

But something was off. It was too quiet. The boy’s voice had faded into silence, the owls no longer rustled or hooted. Even the room itself felt different, like the very air was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

She opened her eyes, half-expecting to see a table where the cushion had been. But instead, she found herself staring straight into the boy’s eyes.

The boy was staring at her, his eyes wide and glistening, his earlier grin completely gone.

And he was crying.

Tears were streaming down his cheeks, silent and relentless, as if a dam had broken inside him

It was as if the world had flipped upside down in an instant. The boy, who had been so cheerful, so confident just moments ago, now had tears streaming down his cheeks. His earlier grin was gone, replaced by a look of deep sorrow, of pain that Saya couldn’t begin to understand.

The shock hit her like a physical blow, freezing her in place. She had been so focused, so determined, that she hadn’t even noticed the change in him. What had she done? What had gone wrong?