Herik stood near Juson, his small feet rubbing uncertainly against the floor. His legs trembled slightly, struggling to hold his weight.
Juson noticed immediately and bent down, lifting him with ease.
The boy had only learned to stand a few days ago. Walking was still a mystery to him.
From the kitchen, Yokina's voice called out casually, asking Juson to brush Herik's teeth.
Juson paused for a moment at the doorway.
That strange feeling from earlier still lingered in his mind, refusing to leave.
But he didn't dwell on it.
Without a word, he carried Herik to the bathroom, gently rubbing his back as if to steady both of them.
"Bring the stool," he said softly.
Herik nodded faintly and dragged the small stool toward the washbasin.
The scraping sound echoed lightly against the tiles. He placed it in front of the sink and, without asking for help, tried to climb up.
Juson caught him halfway and lifted him onto it.
Standing behind him, Juson picked up the brush, applied paste, and carefully guided it into Herik's mouth.
Slow. Gentle movements.
Routine.
As he brushed, his gaze shifted upward—toward Herik's head.
His hair.
It had grown faster than it should have.
Juson's hand moved instinctively, fingers brushing lightly through the strands as if checking something he couldn't explain.
And then—
He saw it.
At the back of Herik's neck, just below the hairline—
A faint bluish patch.
Not large.
Not obvious.
But wrong.
Juson frowned slightly.
At first, he assumed it was nothing. Fragile skin, maybe a mark from sleeping.
But it didn't look like that.
It looked… different.
He said nothing.
For now, he chose to wait.
The brushing continued.
Then Herik suddenly pulled his head back, discomfort flashing across his face. He pushed the brush away.
Juson blinked, realizing he had gone too far.
"Alright, done," he murmured.
He helped Herik rinse his mouth, water spilling clumsily as the boy tried to imitate him.
But even as he finished, his thoughts remained stuck on that mark.
After wiping Herik's face, Juson placed him back on the floor.
The boy didn't stay.
Almost immediately, he toddled out of the bathroom toward the kitchen, drawn to Yokina.
Juson stayed behind for a second longer.
He washed the brush, placed it back carefully, and stepped out.
Herik's faint voice echoed from the kitchen.
But Juson didn't go there.
Instead, he turned and walked straight toward Herik's room.
The door stood slightly open.
Inside, everything looked normal.
Too normal.
The bed sat beside the door, neatly arranged. Juson stepped closer and examined the bedsheet.
Nothing.
No marks.
No stains.
No sign of anything unusual.
He picked up the pillow.
Soft. Light.
Not firm enough to leave any mark on the neck.
Juson stared at it for a moment, his thoughts tightening.
Then—
His hand paused.
Something felt off.
He pressed the pillow slightly.
There it was.
A faint, rough texture.
Like fine particles embedded within the fabric.
Juson narrowed his eyes and struck the pillow lightly with his hand.
A thin layer of dust scattered into the air before settling onto the bedsheet.
He leaned down to inspect it.
It wasn't normal dust.
The particles carried a faint blue tint.
Almost like… sand.
Juson's expression hardened slightly.
Something about it felt familiar.
But the memory refused to surface.
Slowly, he reached out and touched it.
Before he could examine it further—
"Juson!"
Yokina's voice called from the kitchen.
He paused.
For a moment, he hesitated.
Then he withdrew his hand and straightened up.
"I'm coming," he replied.
He turned and walked out of the room.
Behind him—
The fine blue particles shifted slightly.
As if reacting.
As if alive.
But Juson didn't see it.