The impossible was there, right in front of him.

  He lifted his head toward his mother, eyes red, tears streaming down his cheeks. His voice trembled as he spoke:

  “But… how?”

  His mother, not understanding his reaction, answered with a gentle smile:

  “What’s wrong with you, Kael?”

  He buried his face back against her legs. His sobs grew louder.

  “Kael, please—let go of me and tell me what’s going on.”

  No answer. Only crying.

  “Kael?” she repeated.

  Still nothing.

  Without warning, she punched him on the top of the head.

  “Let go, for God’s sake!” she snapped.

  Kael collapsed, clutching his head. She stepped back slightly, glanced down at her dress, and said in a now sharp tone:

  “Look at my dress! You got snot all over it!”

  Kael, lying on the floor, replied in a plaintive voice, his tears now dried:

  “You didn’t have to hit me…”

  She shot him a glare.

  “You weren’t answering! It’s like you’re doing it on purpose!”

  Kael was on his knees now, struggling to get back up. He insisted, He insisted, tears welling up again.

  “We haven’t seen each other in so long…”

  He wiped his tears.

  “What happened to you for you to disappear like that?”

  She looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

  “Disappear? What are you talking about?”

  She crossed her arms. Kael went on, his tone tinged with bitterness:

  “Seven years. I’ve been waiting for you for seven years.”

  His vision blurred again as tears welled up. She replied:

  “But you can see I’m right here. I didn’t disappear. Come on—get up.”

  He stood, unsteady, and his mother continued:

  “And while we’re at it, can you explain something to me? Follow me.”

  She headed toward the living room. Kael followed, his nose running.

  The living room wasn’t very large, but it was comfortable: a sofa, a coffee table, a bookshelf filled with books, a few flowers resting by the window, drinking in the sunlight.

  A large glass panel stood in the room, framed with that same unfamiliar material that had been intriguing him.

  She walked over to a table and picked something up.

  “Care to explain?” she said, holding Kael’s sword in her hand.

  “What are you doing with a katana?”

  Kael stepped closer and took the weapon from her hands.

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  “It’s not a katana. It’s a sword.”

  He examined it. The Needle-Case Band was still attached to the scabbard. Then he added:

  “But why is it here? Where did you find it?”

  “That’s not the question, Kael,” she replied. “The real question is why you have a weapon in your bedroom. And for the record, it is a katana. A Japanese sword.”

  He tilted his head slightly.

  “Japanese?”

  “Stop treating me like an idiot and answer my question!”

  She stepped toward him. Kael immediately understood her intention and backed away on instinct, hands raised.

  “It’s just that… I’m in training. Learning how to handle weapons. That’s all.”

  She stopped dead.

  He went on:

  “It’s necessary if I want to fight and defend myself against Overdrawn.”

  “Overdrawn?” she echoed. “What’s gotten into you today?”

  Kael lowered his head and replied with a hint of irony:

  “If I had to count how many times I’ve heard that today…”

  He sighed, then added:

  “It’s nothing. Forget it. Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

  He sat down on the couch, sword in hand, and looked at her with a wide smile.

  “I have so many things to tell you,” he said.

  “But first…”

  He stood up, walked over to the glass panel, and asked in a tone filled with the curiosity he’d been holding back since morning:

  “What’s this material called? It’s been bothering me all day.”

  He cautiously touched the back of the panel, where the strange material was, as if it might attack him at any moment.

  His mother was now looking at him the way one looks at a madman—or an idiot.

  “Well, Kael, that’s called a television. And the material you’re so fascinated by is plastic.”

  “Plastic, huh?”

  He rested a hand on his chin, thoughtful.

  His mother went on:

  “So—what was it you wanted to tell me that was so important?”

  “Ah… yeah,” he said.

  He was about to speak—

  then stopped cold.

  There’s no point telling her, he thought.

  She wouldn’t understand. No one in this world can know… what’s really happening.

  It’s frustrating. After all these years, I can’t tell her anything. Absolutely nothing.

  He sat back down on the couch, looking deflated. His mother sat beside him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He simply nodded. Then he smiled again.

  “I’m just happy to see you. That’s all.”

  She returned his smile and gently caressed his cheek. Her hand was soft. So soft.

  “Me too, my little rascal.”

  They talked about nothing and everything for a good part of the afternoon.

  Mostly, she talked—about her job, the neighbors, the nice weather, the rain.

  He just listened, a blissful smile on his face.

  She had baked cakes. Kael stuffed himself, completely forgetting all the good manners he’d picked up over the past few weeks.

  A question suddenly crossed his mind.

  “Mom… is there a library in the neighborhood?”

  “Of course,” she replied. “Why?”

  “I need to work on some math classes.”

  He thought back to the plump woman at the school. A faint grimace of disgust crossed his face.

  “Let’s just say… the school library is a bit limited.”

  “That’s surprising,” she said. “You’re not usually that interested in school. You’re more the lazy type.”

  He shot back immediately:

  “Hey, watch it. Let’s just say my resources were too limited to learn.”

  “My resources were limited? We’re not exactly struggling, Kael.”

  “Uh—yeah. Well. You know what I meant. Anyway.”

  He stood up from the couch.

  “So—where’s the library?”

  “On the corner of the street,” she replied, a little puzzled. “You’re going now?”

  “Yes. I’ve got some reading that can’t wait.”

  The books he hadn’t been able to finish because of the librarian haunted him. Curiosity gnawed at him.

  “I’ll be back before nightfall. See you later.”

  And he left, slamming the door behind him.

  The air was soft in the late afternoon, and the sun didn’t seem to be in any hurry to set.

  Kael headed toward the library at a brisk pace, taking the steps two at a time.

  He passed by the car—still wary—and kept going.

  He crossed paths with a mother and her child in uniform. The child ran ahead, laughing loudly, while the mother tried—and failed—to catch up.

  Kael smiled foolishly.

  In seven years, she hasn’t changed…

  Well—no. Not seven years.

  For her, the last time we were together was this morning.

  Still…

  He rubbed the top of his head.

  She did punch me, though. Some reunion. She could’ve waited until tomorrow…

  A few minutes later, he arrived in front of a large building.

  It looked old—almost mystical—like it had no place in such an ordinary neighborhood.

  The building resembled an ancient manor frozen in time.

  Stone arches darkened by age, a massive gray fa?ade, tall narrow windows fitted with stained glass.

  Above the entrance, a pointed stone pediment carved with strange motifs.

  Kael frowned, lifted his eyes to the imposing fa?ade, and muttered:

  “Nice. And not creepy at all.”

  He stood there for a few seconds, studying the dark stone, the stained glass, the statues worn down by time.

  “This can’t be right…” he murmured. “That’s the library?”

  He looked for a plaque, a sign—anything.

  Finally, his gaze landed on a small metal sign, rusted and hanging crookedly beside the door.

  “Municipal Library – Free Entry”

  He blinked, incredulous.

  “Well… even the sign is creepy.”

  He shrugged and stepped toward the heavy wooden door.

  Alright. Maybe it’s not a dungeon—but it definitely looks like the place…

  And without thinking any further, he went inside.