My shoulder hurts. The stitched wound throbs with a dull, pulsing ache. It's as if a second heart has taken root in my shoulder. Juanky stared at the ceiling above his bed. A white ceiling. Featureless. Just pure, blank white, and right now, he was grateful for its sterility. (Alvin...) Just remembering the name made a tight pain squeeze deep in his chest. The knife had stabbed his shoulder, but the pain always resided in his heart. He was kind. His smile was gentle, he taught me how to use a fork, and he helped me when I almost spilled my soup. I thought he was my first friend, someone my own age. It was all a lie. Juanky pulled the blanket up over his head and squeezed his eyes shut. (It's my fault.) My own carelessness invited an assassin right up to the king's bedroom. Sebas and Luna could have been caught in the crossfire. If the king hadn't woken up at that moment— The thought nearly brought him to tears, and he shut his eyes even tighter. Just then, a light knock sounded at the door. [gentle] "So you're alive." When he lifted his head, there stood Sebas with his usual sleepy eyes, holding a tray. On it was a steaming medicinal tea and a perfectly browned honey bread. [sad] "Sebas..." [gentle] "Now, now. First, drink this and calm yourself. The bread is fresh out of the oven. I had to rouse the old man in the kitchen to bake it, so do be grateful." With his airy tone, Sebas placed the tray on the side table, pulled up a chair, and sat down. His movements were as leisurely as ever, so composed that it was hard to believe the chaos of the previous night had even happened. Juanky tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his shoulder, and he let out a small yelp. [scared] "Ow...!" [gentle] "Don't push yourself. The wound is closed, but it'll still hurt if you move it." Sebas lent a hand, slipping a pillow behind Juanky's back. Then, as if he'd prepared tea for himself as well, he slowly tilted his own cup. Juanky accepted the medicinal tea, wrapping both hands around the cup. It was warm. That warmth calmed his heart, just a little. [sad] "I'm sorry..." He forced the words out. Sebas glanced at him briefly, then returned his gaze to his tea. [gentle] "You're apologizing to the wrong person." It was a quiet remark. Juanky fell silent. He was right. Sebas wasn't the one he should be apologizing to. Who had his carelessness inconvenienced the most— A pair of golden eyes surfaced in his mind. [sad] "...Why was the king so angry?" A voice so small came out that it surprised even him. [sad] "I'm just a toy to him anyway. That's all I am to the king." Sebas took a sip of his tea. Only the sound of the cup being set down echoed in the quiet room. [gentle] "Even if it's a toy, if a toy you're fond of gets damaged, you'd be angry. Anyone would." [sad] "Is that all it is?" Juanky pressed further. He didn't even know why he was asking such a thing. Sebas paused for a moment. Normally, a quick quip would have come back, but not now. He looked out the window, then quietly spoke. [serious] "...Who knows. But, I've never seen the king's expression change that much before." His tone was unusually serious. Juanky gripped the cup of medicinal tea tightly. It was hot, yet his fingertips were cold. [whispers] "Something else... I wonder what it was." It wasn't simple possessiveness. It was a twisted obsession. A part of him understood that, but he had no idea whether that scared him or made him happy. [whispers] "That person is terrifying... but just in that moment, his face wasn't scary." In his hazy consciousness, he'd seen those golden eyes peering down at his blood-soaked self. They were burning with rage, yet, why? He hadn't been afraid. Sebas raised an eyebrow. "Hoh." [laughing] "Well now... that's a very interesting thing to say." Realizing what he'd just said, Juanky's face instantly flushed with heat. [scared] "N-no! That's not what I meant! Forget I said that! Please stop, that face you're making is scary!" [gentle] "Whatever do you mean? This is my usual face." Sebas had returned to his usual sleepy expression, but the corners of his mouth were slightly relaxed. Desperate to change the subject, Juanky reached for the honey bread. His hand stopped. [serious] "Now then." Sebas's voice tightened. [serious] "The assassin hasn't been found yet. We've searched every corner of the castle, but he's vanished. There's a high probability he's hiding somewhere within the palace." The hand holding the bread trembled. The pain of the wound and fear assaulted him simultaneously. The body that had just started to warm up grew cold again. [gentle] "If you stay curled up in bed like this, you'll have nowhere to run if he targets you next. You'd be immobile prey." Sebas's voice, calmly laying out the facts, was gentle but merciless. [scared] "Even if you say that... what can I do? I'm scared, I'm in pain, I can barely move." [gentle] "The one thing a scaredy-cat like you can use is the fact that *because* you're scared, you notice the small details. I'd like to bet on that." Sebas took a sip of tea and slowly looked at Juanky. His eyes looked sleepy, but the light deep within them was strangely sharp. [scared] "That's... you're totally just using me, aren't you?" Juanky retorted, on the verge of tears, and Sebas answered without a hint of shame. [gentle] "That's right." He admitted it so readily. He said it so brazenly that Juanky couldn't help but laugh. [laughing] "That's awful. You're the worst." [gentle] "If you like, I'll add three more honey breads as your reward." [excited] "That's way too cheap!" Even as he said it, Juanky's hand was already reaching for the bread. He bit into it. It was sweet. The soft dough crumbled in his mouth. (Ah, it's delicious.) As he ate, his heart mysteriously began to settle. In the moment he laughed, he felt something shift deep in his chest. He was still scared. It still hurt. But— The feeling of not wanting to stay like this grew just a little stronger than the fear. [serious] "...Alright. What should I do?" Sebas nodded, satisfied. [gentle] "First, you should go see Luna. She should know how to see through someone disguised using Ki Manipulation." --- The next day. Pressing the bandage on his shoulder, Juanky visited the slender tower in the west wing of the palace. The Tower of the Moon—Luna's study tower. With each step up the spiral staircase, his wound throbbed with pain. Still, he didn't stop, moving slowly, planting his feet on each step. The top floor of the tower. He knocked on the door. [cold] "You may enter." When he stepped inside, Luna was at her desk, organizing documents. Her long silver hair, backlit by the sunlight streaming through the window, seemed to take on a bluish tint. Her purple eyes remained fixed on the papers in her hands. [serious] "Luna, I need to talk to you about something..." [cold] "You're late." Luna lifted her face from the documents, said that curtly, and stood up. [surprised] "Huh...?" [gentle] "I heard from Sebas. That an assassin is still lurking, and that you're trying to take action. ...You've made a brave decision." Her last words were just a little kind. Luna pulled an old book from the shelf and spread it open on the desk. The pages were filled with complex diagrams of the human form and lines of light flowing through the body. [serious] "A person disguised by Ki Manipulation will have a subtle discrepancy between their original ki flow and the appearance created by the technique. We'll use that. Squint your eyes and focus your consciousness one centimeter outside the outline of a person." Luna's slender finger traced the edge of the illustration. [serious] "You'll see a shimmer there. A faint distortion, like when you drop oil on water. If you can see that, you can see through the disguise." Juanky strained his eyes desperately. Luna's silver hair, the pages of the book, the wood grain of the desk—even when he squinted, he couldn't see anything shimmering. [sad] "I can't see it at all..." [gentle] "There's no need to rush. It's not a skill you can master overnight. You just have to practice, over and over." Her voice was unusually gentle. For a while after that, Luna patiently continued to teach him. The basics of ki flow, how to concentrate, how to regulate his breathing. Every time Juanky shook his head, she would explain it again from the beginning. During the practice, when Juanky winced, favoring his shoulder, Luna silently pulled a bookshelf closer to his injured side. She repositioned it so he could lean against it. [surprised] "Ah... thank you." Luna said nothing, just pointed at the book's page again. But that gesture was far kinder than words, and a warmth spread through Juanky's heart. --- Evening came. Outside the window, the sky was beginning to turn a deep crimson. The light pouring into the tower illuminated the bookshelves and desk in shades of orange. Juanky began to get ready to leave. His shoulder still ached, but his heart felt strangely light. He had decided on his own to come here today. Not because someone told him to, but because he had walked here on his own two feet and knocked on this door. That, somehow, made him proud. [gentle] "Keep practicing until the ball. You may come here every day." Luna's voice called out to Juanky's back as he headed for the stairs. The end of her sentence was just a little softer than usual. Juanky turned around. [gentle] "Luna, you're kind, aren't you?" Luna quickly averted her face. [angry] "...Don't say unnecessary things." Her ears, lit by the sunset, were slightly red. Unable to say anything more, Juanky just bobbed his head in a bow and descended the stairs. His heart was beating loudly, but it didn't feel unpleasant. He returned to his room and gazed out the window at the palace. The sunset dyed the white castle walls vermilion, and lights were beginning to flicker on here and there. (I still feel like crying, and I'm still scared.) When he thought about where that assassin might be right now, his body nearly froze up again. (But.) Even while afraid, he could still take action. Realizing this, Juanky's eyes held a slightly different color than before. Even though they were still wet with tears, a small light seemed to have flickered to life deep within them. --- Deep beneath the palace. In a corner of a drainage channel where darkness swallowed everything, the assassin leaned his back against the cold stone wall. Relying on the light of a small ki stone, he was rewriting his report. The bones in his shoulder creaked. The wound inflicted by that conquering king had not yet healed. (The operation failed. All approach routes to the target must be re-evaluated.) Even as he coolly analyzed the situation, the assassin's pen hand stopped for a moment. Juanky. That little bird. He could still feel the sensation in his hand of plunging the knife into his shoulder. At that moment, he certainly could have dealt a fatal blow. But—he had incurred the king's fury, and security had been drastically heightened. [cold] "The next opportunity will only be at a large gathering of people." He muttered quietly, his eyes turning to a single slip of paper tucked in his pocket. It was an invitation to the ball.