The morning light filtered softly through the sheer curtains, painting the marble floor of Shellia's chamber with streaks of gold. The silence of the room was comforting, yet her heart refused to rest. She sat on the edge of her bed, fingers gripping the blanket tightly, her thoughts tangled like an unfinished melody.
"Yuki," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
A faint shimmer filled the air, and from that light, a small boy materialized — white-haired, blue-eyed, and barefoot. His presence radiated calm, yet a certain timeless wisdom glimmered behind his youthful face.
[You called for me, Shellia?] Yuki asked softly, tilting his head as his hair caught the morning light.
"Yes," Shellia breathed, gazing at him as though he were the only one who could understand. "I… need to ask something."
[About what happened yesterday? Or… about him?] Yuki's tone hinted at teasing, but his eyes were gentle.
