Juson stepped out of the room without another glance, leaving the faint traces of blue sand behind him. Something about it lingered in his mind, like a memory he couldn't fully grasp.
In the kitchen, Herik sat quietly on a chair while Yokina fed him spoon by spoon. He sat awkwardly, his posture slightly off, as if his body hadn't yet learned how to exist comfortably.
Yokina noticed Juson entering and called him inside.
He walked in slowly, his head lowered, thoughts tangled around something he had seen but could not recall.
By the time he reached the table, Herik had already finished his breakfast. Children his age could usually eat on their own, but something—something unseen—seemed to hold him back.
Yokina stood up and moved toward the dishes to serve Juson.
Juson's eyes drifted to Herik. The boy remained seated, staring blankly at the table, as if his attention had slipped somewhere far away.
Juson hesitated. He wanted to tell Yokina about the mark on Herik's neck.
"Yokina," he called.
She misunderstood.
"I'll bring your food in a second," she replied casually.
Juson fell silent.
He watched Herik instead.
Yokina placed a plate in front of him and turned toward the sink to wash dishes. Juson took a bite, but his mind stayed elsewhere.
"Yokina," he called again.
She turned slightly this time.
"Did Herik fall somewhere?" he asked.
She frowned. "Fall?"
He repeated, slower, "Fallen down?"
"No… no," she replied.
A pause followed. Then something in her expression changed. She walked toward him.
"Why are you asking that?"
This time, Juson didn't avoid it.
"There's a mark on his neck," he said.
Yokina immediately turned to Herik. She leaned down, gently lifting his chin, examining his neck.
"There's nothing," she said.
Juson frowned. "Look properly. Near the throat. On the right side."
She checked again, more carefully this time. Her fingers traced the skin.
Still nothing.
"It's normal," she insisted.
Juson stood up and walked toward them.
He looked.
And froze.
The mark… was fading.
Not completely gone, but weaker, as if it was retreating beneath the skin.
For a moment, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
He leaned closer.
The blue tint had almost disappeared, shrinking back into nothing.
Yokina stepped back, unsettled. "I stay with him all day. He never fell anywhere."
Juson didn't respond immediately.
"I have to go to school," he said finally. "Take him to a doctor. Call me from there."
Yokina nodded.
She helped Herik adjust his shirt.
Juson stood there for a moment longer.
Something was wrong.
Something he understood… but couldn't explain.
Without looking back, he left.
Outside, Juson walked toward his car. He unlocked the trunk to place his bag inside.
The moment it opened, a layer of dust caught his eye.
It looked like it hadn't been cleaned for months.
He hesitated.
Then closed it.
But something in the corner—something faint—caught his attention.
A bundle of papers.
Old. Torn. Covered in dust.
Juson paused.
A strange feeling passed through him.
Like something had just clicked in his mind.
But instead of checking, he shut the trunk and got into the car.
Moments later, he was driving.
The road to school felt longer than usual.
Music played softly in the background as he switched tracks absentmindedly.
When he arrived, he stepped out of the car and looked up at the building.
For a second, he just stood there.
Then he turned toward the trunk again.
This time, he opened it.
The papers were still there.
He picked them up.
Dust clung to the surface, hiding whatever was written.
He brushed it away with his fingers.
A few words appeared.
"Attempt 4 – Itaga…"
The rest remained hidden.
Juson frowned.
He didn't recognize them.
But he knew one thing.
He had put them there.
He flipped through the pages.
The text was fragmented.
Broken.
Words separated by slashes. Sentences incomplete.
It made no sense.
Or maybe…
something was stopping it from making sense.
Juson sat there, lost in the pages.
Ten minutes passed.
The school bell snapped him back.
He was late.
Without thinking, he threw the papers back into the trunk. They scattered carelessly.
He grabbed his bag and walked toward the gate.
Within seconds, he disappeared into the corridor.