Mina didn’t sleep much the night Ren disappeared from her thoughts.

By morning, her hands were cold and her eyes tired. But she dressed for school anyway, heart pounding with questions that had no answers.

What did he mean by it’s not safe?

Had someone found out about his ability?

Was it her fault?

Saki caught up with her at the school gate.

“Hey! Are you good? You look like a ghost.”

Mina forced a tired smile. “Just didn’t sleep.”

Saki narrowed her eyes. “Is this about the tea boy?”

Mina said nothing.

“Okay, listen,” Saki continued, “I heard something weird this morning. Like, actually weird. Apparently, Ren’s old school? There were incidents. Students collapsing. Headaches. Blackouts.”

Mina’s blood ran cold.

“What kind of incidents?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“They don’t know. Rumours, mostly. But guess who showed up the day before it started?”

“Ren,” Mina answered, already knowing the truth.

Saki nodded. “They say he transferred here to avoid attention. But now people think he brought something with him.”

Mina didn’t respond. Her thoughts spun faster than she could keep up.

She’d heard his voice from miles away.

She could sense when he was near.

And now, she couldn’t feel him at all.

At lunch, she didn’t go to the garden.

Instead, she headed to the school’s library—a quiet corner where she could think. Where she could listen.

She closed her eyes at the back of the room, focusing hard.

Nothing.

No voice. No static. No trace of him.

But then, as her breathing slowed and her hands curled around her thermos, she felt something faint.

A flicker. Like a broken radio signal.

Then came the whisper—so distant she could barely make out the words.

Mina... don’t...

It cut out.

She opened her eyes. Her chest tightened.

He was trying to reach her.

And he was in pain.

That night, she opened the old wooden box under her bed—the one she hadn’t touched in years. Inside were a dozen scattered notebooks, some filled with notes about auras. Others filled with drawings of what she saw: colours around people, shapes, patterns that didn’t make sense.

But now, they might matter.

She turned to the last page she ever wrote in. One word she had scribbled, years ago, when she first began seeing colours that didn’t match anyone else’s:

Null.

A person with no aura.

A void in the system.

A blank space in a world full of emotion.

She’d thought she made it up.

But Ren was real.

And so was whatever was trying to erase him.

Chapter Seven – Missing Signals

Mina didn’t sleep much the night Ren disappeared from her thoughts.

By morning, her hands were cold and her eyes tired. But she dressed for school anyway, heart pounding with questions that had no answers.

What did he mean by it’s not safe?

Had someone found out about his ability?

Was it her fault?

Saki caught up with her at the school gate.

“Hey! Are you good? You look like a ghost.”

Mina forced a tired smile. “Just didn’t sleep.”

Saki narrowed her eyes. “Is this about the tea boy?”

Mina said nothing.

“Okay, listen,” Saki continued, “I heard something weird this morning. Like, actually weird. Apparently, Ren’s old school? There were incidents. Students collapsing. Headaches. Blackouts.”

Mina’s blood ran cold.

“What kind of incidents?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“They don’t know. Rumours, mostly. But guess who showed up the day before it started?”

“Ren,” Mina answered, already knowing the truth.

Saki nodded. “They say he transferred here to avoid attention. But now people think he brought something with him.”

Mina didn’t respond. Her thoughts spun faster than she could keep up.

She’d heard his voice from miles away.

She could sense when he was near.

And now, she couldn’t feel him at all.

At lunch, she didn’t go to the garden.

Instead, she headed to the school’s library—a quiet corner where she could think. Where she could listen.

She closed her eyes at the back of the room, focusing hard.

Nothing.

No voice. No static. No trace of him.

But then, as her breathing slowed and her hands curled around her thermos, she felt something faint.

A flicker. Like a broken radio signal.

Then came the whisper—so distant she could barely make out the words.

Mina... don’t...

It cut out.

She opened her eyes. Her chest tightened.

He was trying to reach her.

And he was in pain.

That night, she opened the old wooden box under her bed—the one she hadn’t touched in years. Inside were a dozen scattered notebooks, some filled with notes about auras. Others filled with drawings of what she saw: colours around people, shapes, patterns that didn’t make sense.

But now, they might matter.

She turned to the last page she ever wrote in. One word she had scribbled, years ago, when she first began seeing colours that didn’t match anyone else’s:

Null.

A person with no aura.

A void in the system.

A blank space in a world full of emotion.

She’d thought she made it up.

But Ren was real.

And so was whatever was trying to erase him.