A couple days ago on Earth, one day ago on Woewyn, Natsuki sat alone in her room. Brush in hand. Silence folded around her like a soft blanket she couldn't feel.
On the canvas, Mount Fuji rose — majestic, snow-glassed, piercing through silver mists that curled around mountains like sleeping dragons. A pagoda looking sanctuary stood to the left, traditional and proud, its tiers reaching toward a sky washed in jade light. Instead of a red sun, an emerald orb glowed softly, like a second heartbeat in the heavens.
Lilac leaves drifted in painted breezes. Silver-blue branches arched like quiet prayers. Turquoise birds traced soft arcs across the sky.
It looked peaceful. Dreamlike. Almost magical.
And then — as if struck by her own creation — a trembling smile formed on Natsuki's lips.
Followed immediately by the cold spike of fear.
"He loves me."
The words echoed inside her head with a weight that felt too big for her chest. Warmth swelled first — breathtaking, impossible warmth — and then the terror came.
"He loves me. But he's so far away. In a world trying to kill him. A world I can't reach."
Joy and fear braided together until she couldn't tell which hurt more.
"How long… am I going to keep this from him?" she whispered.
Her hand froze over the canvas.
A memory floated up without permission — Damon handing her a water bottle after practice, fingers brushing hers for a fraction too long. He'd laughed, awkward but bright, and she'd looked away pretending her chest wasn't doing that fluttering thing.
Another memory followed — Damon playing basketball with the self-confidence of a grandmaster and the actual skill of a baby. He tripped over his own shoe, sprawled, then sat up grinning like he meant to do it.
She'd tried not to smile. She failed. Every time.
Why do these moments hurt now? Why do they feel heavier?
She sank onto her bed, burying her face in her hands.
"Why am I like this…?"
For days she wrestled with the confession she'd overheard from Nyra — that Damon loved her.
The more she examined it, the more tangled her heart became.
"What if I misunderstood him? What if he didn't mean it that way? What if I say something and ruin everything? What if… what if…"
Loving someone silently was its own kind of torture — a love that had no wings, only weight.
Finally, when she couldn't bear the thoughts pressing against her ribs anymore, she touched the Shard of Luminaris.
Its surface glowed, shifting like captured moonlight — and then vision bloomed.
She saw Damon.
And over him — Cythera.
Grace carved into movement. Power woven into her every breath. Her body toned and fluid, her stance effortless, her aura serene like water before a storm.
Natsuki's breath stuttered.
"She's… beautiful."
Graceful. Strong. Like she belonged in Damon's world in a way Natsuki never had.
A cold wave washed over her.
"I'm just… me," she whispered. "A basketball girl from Earth. How am I supposed to compete with someone like that?"
The shard pulsed again — soft, indifferent.
"…Does Damon… like her?" The question broke out of her, fragile and pleading.
But the shard gave no comfort.
Its dim glow, the quiet that followed — felt like confirmation.
A silence sharp enough to bruise.
Natsuki lowered the shard onto her desk, hands trembling. Her heartbeat felt too loud, too fast, too scared.
The canvas behind her glowed under the emerald sun she had painted — a world peaceful and beautiful. A world nothing like the one inside her chest.
Cythera and Damon sat on the sand, the untouched half of the Bottomless Basket between them. The sky was melting into amber and rose-gold. The water shimmered like painted glass.
Daichi nudged Damon's elbow sharply.
Damon sighed. "Relax. There's enough meat in there to sedate an army."
Daichi's glare deepened, unimpressed.
Cythera hid a smile as she chewed thoughtfully. "Trineum's classes are… varied," she said. "Aetheric Arts for Eterna manipulation. Physical Discipline for ki and combat. Applied Sciences — physics, math, mechanics. History is important. You should take it."
"Why history?"
"Because you don't know anything," she said simply.
Damon raised a brow. She shrugged. He laughed softly.
She told him about Trineum's divisions — the smarts and the "dumbs."
"That's wrong," Damon said.
Cythera blinked. "Wrong?"
"No one's dumb. People just shine in different places. Just because someone can't explain non-linear power progression doesn't mean they're stupid."
Her lips parted — surprise, then something warmer.
She looked away before he noticed. He noticed anyway.
"The extras are there because of that," she said. "Anything can be an extra class, if the Headmaster approves."
"Headmaster?"
"Archon Voren."
Damon grimaced. "Sounds… intense."
"He is, sometimes," she admitted. "But mostly he's calm. He is my grandfather after all."
"...he's your grandfather?"
She nodded.
"So… Cythera Voren."
She raised a brow. "What about it?"
"It doesn't sound stern," Damon said. "Sounds… calm. But hard not to notice."
A silence stretched — soft, subtle, charged. Daichi plopped himself between them like a furry chaperone.
The sun dipped lower.
Damon stood. "Let me walk you home."
"Why?"
"My mother said to always make sure a lady gets home safely."
Cythera shot him an unimpressed look.
"You wouldn't want me to disobey the Queen, would you?" Damon added.
She clicked her tongue. "…Fine."
The Voren estate rose like an obsidian fortress wrapped in frost. Guards bowed. Ice-lit lamps flickered like frozen stars.
At the gate, Damon gave a quiet, respectful bow. "Goodnight, Cythera."
She nodded, composed — until she turned.
Her cheeks warmed instantly.
"Was that the prince himself?" her mother asked gently.
"No," Cythera said, far too quickly. Her cheeks were far too pink.
The guards closed the gates behind her.
"He knows where I live now… Will this become a routine? The thought startled her — and warmed her."
Damon returned to his room. Sat on his bed. Held the shard of Luminaris in both hands.
He waited. And waited. And waited.
"Natsuki?" he whispered into the dim light. Silence answered.
He stayed awake the whole night. No drowsiness touched him. Only worry.
Is Natsuki okay? Did something happen?
The more his power grew, the stronger the ache in his chest became.
And as the moon slid into the horizon, the sun rising pale behind it, Damon felt something he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge:
Fear.
For a moment, watching gold streak the water outside his window, Damon felt the world split.
On one side — the boy he had been. Who laughed at bad basketball plays. Who shared headphones with Natsuki on late bus rides. Who wanted a simple life, a small dream, a quiet happiness.
On the other — the person he was becoming. Growing too fast. Hurting too often. Changing in ways he didn't understand.
He swallowed hard.
"If I keep changing like this… will the people I love still recognize me?"
He closed his eyes.
"Will Natsuki?"
The question sat inside him like a shard of light — bright, sharp, impossible to pull out.
Damon waited for her to activate the Shard of Luminaris.
She didn't.
And that silence was the heaviest part of all.