He shuffled into the kitchen still half-asleep, hoodie pulled over his head like a shield. Damian was already at the table, spooning dry cereal into his mouth one piece at a time, eyes glued to the laptop in front of him.

"Morning," Rein said, voice scratchy.

Damian flicked his gaze up for half a second, then back to the screen. "Morning. Your shoes are untied."

Rein blinked down at his bare feet. "…I’m not even wearing shoes yet."

"Exactly," Damian said, perfectly serious.

Rein snorted and grabbed the cereal box, shaking a handful into his palm. "You feeling okay today?" Rein knew he was still a bit shaken about him fainting. 

Damian shrugged without looking up. His hoodie was zipped to his chin, and the soft jazz coming from his laptop speakers filled the quiet. "Better enough. No more… intrusive thoughts about the principal’s face."

"That’s… good?"

"I wanted to throw a stapler at her the other day."

"Okay, less good," Rein muttered, but he couldn’t help smiling.

Damian paused, finally meeting his eyes for a brief, careful second. "…Don’t faint today."

Rein groaned, tossing a piece of cereal at him. "Not you too."

"Seriously. Don’t make me come to school again. It’s—" He hesitated, chewing his lip. "…It’s a lot."

Rein’s chest softened. He leaned down and pressed his forehead gently to Damian’s hoodie-covered head. "I went through yesterday without fainting. I’ll be fine. Promise."

"You can’t promise that," Damian mumbled, but he let Rein do the rare forehead touch anyway.

                                      ________

By the time Rein got to school, he was fully committed to his new plan:

Be a hallway ghost. Blend into the bricks. Avoid the eyes of man and god. This fainting thing was going to die and he was going to go back to being invisible.

He spent the morning walking soft-footed and hoodie-up, earbuds in, keeping his gaze firmly on the floor. If he thought invisible thoughts, maybe people would forget he was the kid who had fainted like a dramatic extra in a period drama. Like why can't they just forget it?! 

So far, it worked… mostly.

He still caught whispers:

"That’s him, right?"

"I heard he has, like… heart problems."

Heart problems, Rein thought, rolling his eyes. Yeah, my heart problem is existing in public. He wanted to throw a chair at them. 

At least Torren wasn’t doing anything today. He sat across the room in first period, surrounded by people, smiling. Rein saw a group of girls swoon and he couldn't resist rolling his eyes at them. 

But then Torren glanced up and their eyes met and somehow Rein understood the girls. 

The other boy gave him a small smile and a wave. That made his group turn their attention to him. Rein snapped his gaze to the window.

                                       ___________

It was just after second period when Mr. Kelso, his homeroom teacher cornered him as he was leaving the class. 

"Alder," he said, shuffling a stack of papers like they were all secrets. "You’ve got free period now, right?"

"Uh… yeah?"

"Do me a favor and sweep out the greenhouse behind the gym. We’re finally cleaning it up for spring." He stood up and walked to the door, picking up the broom leaning by its side. 

Before Rein could react, the broom was shoved into his arms. "Key’s in the handle. Don’t break anything. There's a kid there, he knows you're coming so he'll probably help you out."

Rein rose a brow. "Probably?"

Mr. Kelso shrugged. "Yeah, probably. I don't know. He's a weird kid."

Rein blinked at the broom like it had just assigned him a side quest. "…So I’m skipping algebra to clean?"

"Educational experience," Kelso said, already sitting back down and turning his attention back to the stack of papers on the table. 

Rein sighed, adjusted his bag, and left the class, heading toward the gym. At least it meant a quiet corner of the school where no one could whisper about him.

                                       _______

The greenhouse was tucked behind the gym, half-hidden by ivy. Its windows were foggy, streaked with rain, and the metal door squealed like it hadn’t been opened since dinosaurs roamed.

Rein pushed it open and stepped inside—

—and froze.

The air was warm, damp, and faintly sweet with the smell of soil. Dusty tables and overgrown planters lined the walls, but he wasn’t alone.

And just like Mr. Kelso had told him, someone was there. That someone was kneeling in the dirt, humming softly to a pot of yellow flowers.

Their hair was a riot of color—lavender at the roots, pink in the middle, and fiery orange at the tips. A loose yellow sweater hung off one shoulder, splattered with green paint, and their jeans were patched with little stitched flowers.

Rein stared.

The student didn’t notice him at first, still focused on the flowers. "See? I told you you’d bloom," they whispered, voice warm and lilting.

A nearby vine shifted toward them, like it was listening. Or maybe Rein should go see a doctor. Because a vine listening? Seriously Rein?! 

Then the student looked up. Their eyes were green as spring leaves, and they lit up.

"Oh! Hi!" They bounced to their feet. "You’re not a teacher."

“…No? Um. But Mr. Kelso said-"

They clasped their hands behind their back, grinning. "Then you must be Rein." He cut him off. "The one who fainted."

Rein sighed throwing his hands in the air. "Is that my legacy now?"

"Kind of cute, honestly," they said. "I’m Lucian. Or Lucy. Or Lu. Depends on the day."

"…Which day is today?"

"Hmm… definitely a Lucy day."

"Right."

Lucy’s grin widened, like he’d just passed some unspoken test. "So, are you here to sweep, or are you here to talk to flowers?"

"…Sweep?"

"Wrong answer!" they chirped, and before Rein could argue, Lucy was dragging him toward the planter.

The yellow flowers nodded softly in the light.

"They were wilting yesterday," Lucy whispered, crouching beside them again. "But I told them they’d make it. And they did. You just have to talk nice to things."

Rein hesitated, crouched down too, and murmured, "Uh… good job?"

Lucy gasped like he’d said something profound. "See? You get it!"

Rein didn’t get it. But he smiled anyway. They were so easy to be around. Weirdly, it reminded him of how he felt around Torren. 

But for the first time that day, the weight of being stared at, whispered about, and almost fainting into social oblivion… eased a little.