The walk to school was quiet. The sky was cloudy, just like his mind. Yuki shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and tried to shake off the lingering weirdness. But every sound felt too sharp—every scent too vivid. A cat meowing across the street, the rustling of leaves, even the distant flap of wings overhead—he noticed all of it.
Hyper-awareness, he told himself. Probably just from stress.
School itself was the same as always—dull halls, half-asleep students, and teachers with voices like static. But even in the routine, Yuki felt... watched. He couldn't explain it. People glanced at him like they were seeing something off. Whispers behind his back. Or maybe he was imagining it.
He sat at his desk, staring out the window. That's when it happened.
The glass shimmered. Not cracked, not fogged—shimmered, like heat rising off asphalt. And in the reflection, he didn't see the classroom.
He saw trees. The forest. Moonlight.
And those glowing, golden eyes.
He blinked—and it was gone. His own face stared back at him, pale and wide-eyed.
Nope. Not normal.
"Hey. Yuki."
He flinched. It was Ren, the quiet kid who sat beside him—barely ever talked, always reading some book with weird symbols on the cover. Yuki hadn't even noticed him approach.
"You're... different today," Ren said, eyes narrowing. Not accusing. Just observant.
Yuki tried to play it cool. "Didn't sleep much."
Ren looked at him for a long second, then nodded slowly. "You're waking up."
"What?"
But before Yuki could ask what he meant, the bell rang—and Ren was already walking away.
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