The bell rang with a clean chime, signalling recess.

Conversations rose, and the stiff air of lesson time loosened as students gradually left the classroom.

Greyson and Frost, however, stayed seated at the table, the space between them remaining.

Before the older boy could decide whether to speak, two female students approached, stopping at his side of the table with easy smiles.

“Hey,” one of the girls greeted. “You’re Greyson, right?”

Greyson’s gaze met hers, speaking in an approachable tone.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Greyson.”

“I’m Angel,” the girl said. 

She gestured to the other girl next to her. “And this is Lily.”

Lily bowed politely. “Nice to meet you.”

Their exchange became casual in seconds as they made remarks about the lesson, the arena, and the absurdity of being thrown into combat evaluations on the first day.

Greyson was naturally smooth and made even simple words sound thoughtful.

When he smiled, Angel’s cheeks colored faintly, and Lily’s gaze lingered a second or two longer.

Greyson had always had that kind of charm. There was something about him that made people want to step closer, a charisma that didn’t feel forced.

Angel recovered quickly, clearing her throat. Then, her gaze drifted to the quiet boy beside him, smiling.

“Hi,” she offered, voice careful but kind. “You’re Frost, right?”

Frost didn’t respond. He didn’t even turn.

Angel’s smile faltered, uncertain if she had crossed a line she hadn’t known existed. 

Greyson, sensing the awkwardness instantly, leaned forward.

“He’s a little tired,” he said smoothly, tone gentle enough to excuse Frost without making it sound like an apology.

Angel blinked, then nodded quickly. “Oh… yeah, of course.”

Lily, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by Frost’s silence. She turned back to Greyson, offering kindly.

“We’re going for lunch,” she said. “Do you guys want to join us?”

Greyson hesitated, his focus drifting to Frost.

Before he could answer, Frost rose silently, scarf ends sliding off the bench as he slowly walked away.

Angel and Lily stared, not sure what to say, the invitation left hanging in the air.

Greyson’s lips parted, chest tightening.

“Frost,” he called softly. “Do you want to have lunch together?”

For a moment, Frost paused. 

He shook his head lightly, not giving any explanation, and continued walking toward the exit.

And then—

“Greyson!”

A familiar voice cut through the moment like a bright splash of color.

Wade came running over, his hair slightly messy. He stopped by Greyson’s table, half laughing, half exasperated.

“Do you have a pen?” Wade asked, holding up his own useless one, shaking it violently. 

“My ink ran out, and I’m still in the middle of finishing my notes.”

Greyson’s expression softened. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Here.”

Greyson opened his pencil case and slid a pen toward Wade.

Wade’s eyes lit up, lifting the pen like he had been handed treasure. “You’re a lifesaver.”

But then, something caught his eye as he glanced down at Greyson’s open pencil case. 

“By the way, Greyson,” Wade added, “do you have a little brother or something? Why do you have such a small pair of fingerless gloves? The color’s kinda cool too. Dark silver?”

Frost stopped near the exit.

Small… dark silver… fingerless gloves.

Those words struck him hard, his eyes widening.

Greyson blinked, then chuckled softly. He reached into the pencil case and pulled the gloves out, holding them gently in his hands.

“They’re…” Greyson began, “kind of a keepsake, I guess.”

Wade tilted his head. “From who?”

Greyson’s gaze drifted downward.

“I don’t really remember,” he admitted. “But… I know they’re important to me.”

The temperature dipped slightly, subtly. Frost’s fingers curled at his side as he forced himself to breathe. 

He couldn’t let Greyson sense it.

But Greyson did.

He felt the chill, the subtle change, and his eyes lifted sharply toward the exit.

But Frost was already gone. 

As he walked, a quiet and devastating thought rose from the deepest part of his chest.

He’s been holding on to them.

Frost’s throat tightened, but he didn’t stop walking.

He disappeared down the corridor, carrying silently the weight of a keepsake Greyson didn’t even remember he’d been given.

The last lesson ended later that day, and students were eagerly exiting the classroom.

Greyson stayed seated for a moment longer, his eyes drifting to the seat beside him.

He didn’t return after recess.

Greyson didn’t realize he was sighing until the breath had left him.

Then—

“Greyson!”

Wade appeared at his side with the kind of energy that made silence feel illegal. He leaned over the table, grinning.

“Festival,” Wade announced.

Greyson blinked once. “Festival?”

Wade stared at him, saying it again, voice brighter. “Yeah. The festival.”

Greyson tilted his head, genuinely perplexed. “What festival?”

Wade let out a dramatic sigh and shook his head. 

“Oh my god, Greyson. The city throws a celebration every year around this time. It’s tradition. And it just so happens to coincide with the second day of school, so it kind of doubles as a welcome party too.”

Greyson’s expression shifted, intrigue flickering in his eyes. 

“A celebration,” he repeated, tasting the idea. 

He’d lived in Taren long enough to know warmth and community, but Kael felt different. The place seemed to promise endless things to discover.

He stood, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Is there a dress code?”

Wade burst out laughing. 

“What dress code?” he echoed. “It’s a festival. Just show up.”

Greyson’s lips curved. “Alright.”

His gaze slid to the seat beside him once more.

Wade caught the direction of his eyes and smirked.

“Looking for Mr. Ice Boy?”

“Yeah,” Greyson answered simply, “I thought I might ask if he wanted to go.”

Wade’s brows rose. “Seriously?”

Greyson’s eyes softened slightly. “Even though I already know what he’d say.”

Wade’s grin turned sharper, more mischievous. 

“Ohhh…” he dragged out, leaning closer. “So you like the hard-to-get ones.”

Greyson blinked. “You and my dad could really kick off as buddies.”

Wade froze.

“T-The Sword Saint?” he stammered, suddenly very aware of what he was saying. 

“No—no no no, I—what? You really think so?”

Greyson chuckled. “Mm.”

Wade hurriedly waved his hands like he was trying to erase the conversation from existence.

“Okay! Let’s not talk about that. Festival! Let’s go!”

He quickly dashed toward the door, gesturing to Greyson to pick up the pace.

“C’mon!”

Greyson smiled faintly, glancing over at Frost’s spot one last time, eyes lingering for a second longer.

Then, he turned to catch up to Wade.