Home. He just wanted home.

Maybe leftover rice.

Maybe a nap.

Definitely zero human interaction except for a chat with his brother. He loves a chat with his brother. 

Which was why, of course, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Rein."

He sighed and turned around. Torren was leaning against a row of lockers like he was in a teen drama commercial. Hands in pockets. Perfect posture. Silver eyes locked on him.

Rein gave him a look

Torren smiled like he had been expecting him all day. "I’ll walk you home."

Rein rolled his eyes. "Is this a routine now?"

Torren shrugged. "Well, I'm just looking out for you. Incase you-you know...." He did the fainting gesture again. 

Rein made a noise behind his throat. "This is going to follow me to my grave, isn’t it?"

"Yes," Torren said, entirely serious.

Rein opened his mouth to protest, but the fight drained out fast. Arguing with Torren felt like arguing with gravity. "…Fine. Whatever. Walk me home."

They pushed through the double doors into the golden late-afternoon light.

"Are you not loved at home?" He asked Torren. 

Torren gave him a weird look. 

Rein rolled his eyes and continued. "Or do you just not have any other thing to do but walk me home."

Torren shrugged and gave him a nonchalant, "Maybe."

Before Rein could respond, a bright voice called out:

"Rein! Hey!"

Rein turned around and immediately felt his soul leave his body.

Lucian was jogging toward them, bag bouncing against their hip, sweater sleeves pushed up, a little dirt still smudged on their cheek from the greenhouse. Their hair had shifted with the sun, the orange at the tips catching light like flames. He heard Torren's breath hitch behind him. 

"Oh, good," Lucy said, grinning wide. "I was hoping I’d see you! You walk home this way, right?"

Rein stared. "…Why does everyone know my route all of a sudden?"

"Because I see you a lot." Lucy said cheerfully, falling into step on his other side.

Rein’s brain: Screaming.

Rein’s heart: Also screaming.

He glanced sideways at Torren, curious how he’d react to Lucy’s… Lucy-ness.

Torren didn’t speak immediately. But he looked.

Not the casual, scanning look he gave other students—this one was sharper, focused, like he was reading something beneath the surface. The way he looked at him. Rein swallowed. 

"Hi," Torren said finally, voice smooth as ever.

"Hi!" Lucy beamed. "You’re the new kid. Torren, right?"

"That’s me."

"You're just as shiny as they say," Lucy teased. 

Torren’s lips curved. "So I’ve heard."

Rein wanted to melt into the pavement. He had gone from being invisible and friendless to being flanked by the-new-kid-turned-school-prince and a walking rainbow, and the contrast was making him dizzy. 

                                      

The walk home felt surreal. Lucy chattered about how the clouds looked like sea creatures today, occasionally hopping over cracks in the sidewalk like it was a game. Torren listened quietly but attentively, silver eyes lingering on Lucy every now and then—subtle, but undeniably intrigued.

Rein noticed. Of course he noticed.

And he wasn’t sure why it made his stomach twist.

When they reached the corner where Lucy had to split off, they spun on their heel and waved.

"Bye, Rein-who-faints! Bye, shiny new kid!"

Rein groaned into his hoodie. Torren’s mouth twitched like he was hiding a laugh.

                                        

As they continued toward Rein’s street, Torren said quietly,

"Your friend is… interesting."

"Lucy?" Rein muttered wondering when they became his friends. But he guessed they were friends now. He doesn't think Lucy is going to leave him alone anytime soon. " I guess, yeah. They’re like… if a glitter bomb was a person."

Torren hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t elaborate.

And Rein, for reasons he didn’t care to examine yet, felt a little uneasy at the warmth in Torren’s voice.

                                    ______

Rein pushed open the apartment door, kicked off his shoes, and called, "I’m home!"

From the kitchen, a voice replied immediately, "You’re late. 11 minutes later than usual."

Rein sighed. "You timed me again?"

"I always time you," Damian said, appearing in the doorway with a spoon in one hand and a half-finished Sudoku book in the other. "You were with the new kid again. I can tell. You smell like outside."

Rein blinked. "…What does outside smell like?"

"Grass. Dust. Other people. I don’t like it." Damian wrinkled his nose and went back to the table. His noise-canceling headphones were around his neck, faint jazz leaking out. "So. Tell me."

Rein tossed his backpack down and flopped on the couch. "Tell you what?"

"Your… new routine." Damian twitched his fingers against his thigh three times, then stopped. "You don’t just… walk home alone anymore."

Rein hesitated. Then, slowly:

"Well… there’s Torren. You know. The new kid. He keeps… walking me home."

Damian didn’t look up from his Sudoku, but his mouth pressed into a thin line. "I don’t like that."

"He’s not bad, Damin. He’s just… I dunno. Weird. But in a… good way? I think? I told you you'll like him."

Damian hummed but didn’t reply, flipping a page like he was filing that information under Potential Threat.

"And," Rein continued, "there’s also… Lucian."

That made Damian look up. "Lucian?"

"Yeah. They’re…" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "…Like very colorful. And then decided to adopt me as their new project."

Damian stared for a long beat. "…I don’t like that either."

"You don’t like anyone," Rein teased.

"That’s not true," Damian muttered, glancing down at his Sudoku. His fingers tapped the pen twice. "I like you. But if these new people are going to take my brother away, I’ll… I’ll…"

Rein quickly leaned over the table and bumped his shoulder gently. "Hey. Nobody’s taking me anywhere. Okay? You’re stuck with me."

Damian stared at him, eyes flicking just to the side of Rein’s face instead of meeting them. "…Promise?"

Rein hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "Promise."

Dinner later that evening was quiet, which usually meant safe.

Damian sat cross-legged at the kitchen table, hoodie zipped all the way up, pencil scratching over his Sudoku while Rein stirred a pan of instant noodles. Soft jazz drifted from the laptop speakers—today it was piano, low and calm, filling the spaces between them.

Rein set the bowl in front of his brother. "Here. Culinary masterpiece. Don’t all applaud at once."

Damian studied the noodles for a moment before picking up his chopsticks. "…Acceptable."

"High praise from you," Rein said, dropping into the chair across from him with his own bowl.

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Comfortable, at least, until Damian spoke.

"So. Tell me more about your… new people."

Rein sighed. "Damin…"

"You’ve been different," Damian continued, as matter-of-fact as ever. "You didn’t come straight home. You had two people with you."

"I already told you, they’re just kids from school."

"One is the new kid," Damian said, and Rein could almost hear the capital letters in his voice. "The one who looks at you like he already knows you. I don’t like it."

"He’s… just observant," Rein muttered, twirling his noodles. "And nice. I think."

Damian’s pencil tapped the table in a precise rhythm—three taps, pause, three taps again. "And the other one is...."

"Lucy?" Rein couldn’t help smiling a little. "They’re… a lot. Like, imagine a glitter bomb and a rainbow teamed up to create a human. That’s Lucy."

Damian wrinkled his nose. "I don’t like glitter. It sticks to everything. You’ll bring it home."

Rein laughed. "Relax, I’m not adopting them."

Damian didn’t respond immediately. He finished his noodles, wiped his hands on a napkin, and finally said, very quietly, "…I don’t want anyone to take you away."

Rein’s chest squeezed. He leaned over the table and bumped his shoulder against his brother’s. "Hey. Nobody’s taking me anywhere. Remember I promised."

Damian didn’t answer, but after a moment, his shoulder pressed back against Rein’s, just slightly.

                                    __________

That night, Rein followed their usual bedtime routine.

Teeth brushed.

Hoodie swapped for a soft T-shirt.

Weighted blanket tossed over both of them because Damian said it kept nightmares away.

Rein’s eyes were heavy, but his brain wasn’t ready to shut up. He kept replaying the day: Lucy’s wild grin, Torren’s unreadable silver eyes, the way the three of them had walked down the street like some bizarre parade.

Eventually, sleep won.

The dream came first.

He was falling again—through a sky that wasn’t a sky, stars pulsing in strange rhythms, forming patterns that almost looked like letters. Something whispered his name, soft and low, like it came from under his skin instead of outside his body.

Rein.

His stomach swooped. He spun, weightless, and the stars seemed closer than they should be.

Then—

He woke with a gasp.

The apartment was silent. Dark. Normal.

Except… his window was open.

The curtains drifted in a breeze that shouldn’t exist. He always made sure the window was locked; Damian’s routines demanded it. Rein sat up slowly, heart thudding, and crossed the room to close it.

He hesitated when he saw it: a tiny white feather on the sill.

He picked it up, staring. Too small to be a pigeon feather. Too clean to have come from outside.

For a second, the whisper from his dream seemed to echo in the back of his mind.

Rein shook his head hard. “Nope. Absolutely not. Just… a feather. Totally normal.”

He tossed it in the trash, shut the window, and crawled back under the blanket.

By morning, he would almost convince himself he’d imagined the whole thing.

Almost.