Akitsu Shouga did not question the days anymore.

  At first, every morning had felt wrong—too warm, too ordinary, too alive. He would wake expecting pain, mist, blood, or the endless black water. Instead, there were birds outside his window, the distant sound of merchants setting up stalls, and his sister arguing with their mother about chores.

  Slowly—quietly—he adapted.

  He learned the rhythm of this Fiester Kingdom again, how the streets curved, how the guards spoke, how the sun dipped behind the walls in a way that felt familiar but slightly off. No one hunted him. No one feared him. No one knew what he had endured.

  Here, Akitsu Shouga was just Akitsu Shouga.

  That alone was unsettling.

  “Hey! You spacing out again?”

  Akitsu blinked and turned his head. Rhen Calder stood just outside the gate, hands behind his head, orange hair catching the sunlight.

  “…Sorry,” Akitsu said. “Ready.”

  Rhen grinned. “Good. If we don’t leave now, you’ll start acting weird again.”

  “I’ve always acted weird.”

  “Yeah, but today it’s extra weird.”

  They slipped past the outer edge of the kingdom, following a dirt path that led toward the forest. The air changed almost immediately—cooler, sweeter, filled with the scent of leaves and damp earth.

  The forest was alive.

  Sunlight filtered through thick branches, scattering across mossy ground. Flowers of strange shapes and colors bloomed between roots, and faint motes of light drifted lazily through the air like fireflies that had forgotten it wasn’t night.

  “It still looks like something out of a fairy tale,” Rhen said, stretching his arms. “Never gets old.”

  Akitsu nodded. “It’s… peaceful.”

  They broke into a run without saying anything else, feet pounding over roots and soft soil, laughter echoing between trees. The world felt lighter when he ran—like his body remembered joy even if his mind didn’t.

  They stopped at a familiar tree with a rough ladder nailed into its trunk.

  The tree house.

  Wooden planks, uneven but sturdy, tied together with rope and care. A place built with scraped knees, splinters, and stolen afternoons.

  Rhen climbed up first and leaned over the edge. “So? What’re we playing today?”

  Akitsu stared up at the leaves above them, swaying gently. “…Can we just walk around instead?”

  Rhen blinked, then shrugged. “Sure. Works for me.”

  They climbed down and wandered deeper into the forest, moving slower now. Leaves crunched softly beneath their boots.

  Rhen glanced at him sideways. “You’ve been… off lately.”

  Akitsu stiffened slightly. “Off?”

  “Yeah. You keep staring at stuff like it’s going to disappear. You forget things you shouldn’t. Sometimes it feels like you’re about to say something important and then just… stop.”

  Akitsu looked away. “Sorry.”

  Rhen waved it off. “Hey, I’m not mad. Just worried.”

  They walked in silence for a bit, then Rhen spoke again, deliberately casual. “So. If you could eat only one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

  “…What?”

  Rhen grinned. “See? Normal conversation. Helps.”

  Akitsu thought about it. “Soup.”

  “Soup? That’s your answer?”

  “It’s warm,” Akitsu said quietly. “And it keeps you alive.”

  “…You’re weird,” Rhen muttered, but he smiled.

  They reached the river not long after. Clear water flowed gently, stones protruding like stepping markers.

  Rhen hopped across first, arms out for balance. “Come on. Don’t fall.”

  Akitsu followed, stepping carefully, boots splashing lightly.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  On the other side, they approached a large rock with a narrow gap in the middle.

  Something moved.

  A small cat poked its head out from the shadows, fur damp, eyes bright.

  “Oh!” Rhen crouched immediately. “There you are again.”

  The cat stepped out, tail flicking, and Rhen gently scratched behind its ears. The cat purred loudly.

  “See? Likes me,” Rhen said smugly.

  The cat walked past him.

  Straight to Akitsu.

  It circled his legs once. Twice.

  “…Uh,” Akitsu muttered.

  The cat bumped its head against his shin insistently.

  Rhen stared. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Akitsu crouched and hesitantly reached out, fingers brushing soft fur. The cat purred even louder.

  “I don’t understand,” Rhen pouted. “I feed it.”

  Akitsu smiled faintly. “Maybe it just likes quiet people.”

  Before Rhen could respond, another head poked out from the gap in the rock.

  Round.

  Brown.

  With beady eyes.

  They froze.

  “…Is that a lemming?” Rhen whispered.

  The creature blinked. “…Yes.”

  Both boys screamed.

  “WAIT!” the lemming shouted. “WAIT, WAIT, DON’T RUN!”

  Akitsu and Rhen stopped mid-panic.

  “…You talked,” Rhen said slowly.

  “yes.”

  “You’re a lemming.”

  “Also yes.”

  Akitsu stared. “…What are you?”

  The lemming sighed. “I’m a spirit.”

  “…Then why do you look like a wood lemming?” Akitsu asked.

  The lemming shrugged. “Dunno. Just woke up like this one day.”

  “What’s your name?” Rhen asked.

  “Lemon.”

  “…Of course it is,” Rhen muttered.

  “I live here,” Lemon continued. “With the cat.”

  Rhen frowned. “This is the cat’s home.”

  “Oh,” Lemon said. “That explains why it’s always damp.”

  “You can stay at my place,” Rhen offered suddenly. “Way better than a wet rock.”

  Lemon’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Accepted.”

  They left the forest together—cat staying behind, Lemon riding on Rhen’s shoulder. They passed the tree house, crossed the river, and returned toward the kingdom.

  The guards waved them in without question.

  At Rhen’s house, the smell of food greeted them immediately.

  “Oh! Akitsu,” Rhen’s mother called from the kitchen. “You’re staying for dinner?”

  “No, ma’am,” Akitsu replied politely.

  They went to Rhen’s room and gently placed Lemon on the bed.

  “…Where do I sleep?” Lemon asked.

  “On the bed,” Rhen said. “With me. Until I make something better.”

  “Don’t squish me.”

  “I won’t.”

  Akitsu watched them, then asked quietly, “What type of spirit are you?”

  Lemon blinked. “Type?”

  “There are many,” Akitsu explained. “Vengeful. Boundless. Wandering.”

  Rhen leaned in. “What's the difference?”

  “Vengeful spirits cling to hatred,” Akitsu said. “Boundless spirits drift without will or self. Wandering spirits have a mind. A soul. Freedom.”

  Lemon thought. “I can think. And go where I want.”

  “Then you’re a wandering spirit,” Akitsu said.

  “Oh,” Lemon said. “Cool.”

  Rhen grinned. “We should all play together.”

  Lemon nodded eagerly.

  Akitsu stood. “I should head home.”

  “See you tomorrow,” Rhen said.

  As Akitsu left, Rhen’s mother stopped him and handed him a basket of fruit. “Take this.”

  “…Thank you.”

  Outside, a group of teenagers whispered as he passed. Akitsu ignored them.

  At home, he set the basket down and went to his room. The sun was setting, painting the sky gold and red.

  He watched quietly.

  For now, this world was calm.

  And he allowed himself to breathe.