The dream had left him uneasy.
It had been days since it first came, yet it lingered, replaying in fragments whenever he closed his eyes.
From time to time, Lang found himself checking to make sure his sister was safe. He always knew Mei would be with Mika, but his senses were on edge, his instinct to protect her was stronger than ever, almost uncontrollable.
After losing their parents, Lang had sworn to protect Mei with his life. But lately, even he wondered if he was overdoing it.
The afternoon sun poured through the temple's paper windows, lighting the wide recreational room where Mika, Mei, and a few other children played.
The place was built for laughter and comfort, soft white sand spread across the floor, carved wooden animals along the walls, and the faint scent of burning incense drifting from the far corner.
Mika knelt among the children, helping them shape the sand into tiny towers. She was the kind of person who made joy look effortless, her smile keeping the little ones happy and busy. But every few minutes, she noticed something, the door would slide open slightly, and a familiar face would peek through.
Lang. Again.
It wasn't the first time. By now, it was the tenth. Mika could already predict it, in about ten minutes, the door would creak, and he'd appear again, thinking she wouldn't notice.
This time, she was ready. She stood by the door, waiting.
And right on time, the handle moved.
She threw the door open in one motion and stepped out, nearly colliding into Lang. Her weight fell against him, and his arms instinctively caught her.
"What are you doing, Lang?" she demanded, still catching her breath. "I've been seeing you sneak around all day. What's going on?"
Lang stiffened. He wasn't prepared for the sudden closeness, or her stare. She shifted awkwardly, her hands still pressed against his chest, and he quickly steadied her, moving her aside just enough to give them space.
They stood in the narrow passageway, red walls, golden ceiling, wooden floors smooth from years of walking barefoot. The air was still.
"Alright, Lang, seriously."
"What do you mean?" he asked, spreading his hands, feigning innocence.
Mika raised an eyebrow. "Don't 'what do you mean' me. You've been sneaking around like a shadow. That's not you, so tell me, what's up?"
Lang hesitated, his gaze fixed on hers. For a moment, his face was unreadable. Then he sighed. "It's nothing."
"Lang." Her tone softened. "We both know that's not true. You can tell me anything. What's wrong?"
"I told you—it's nothing. I just…"
"You just what?"
He looked away. "Never mind."
Lang turned and began walking down the corridor, his steps measured and quiet. Mika's eyes followed him, noting the dark circles beneath his eyes. He hadn't slept.
Something's definitely wrong, she thought.
A small tug on her thumb pulled her out of thought. She looked down to see Mei staring up at her with wide, curious eyes.
"What happened?" Mei asked softly.
"It's nothing, sweetie." Mika smiled again, forcing the worry from her voice. "Let's go inside."
They returned to the room, leaving the door to slide shut behind them.
---
Lang reached the temple entrance. The sunlight outside was blinding, and he squinted, raising a hand to shade his eyes until they adjusted. The courtyard stretched before him, rows of monks training in perfect formation, four to a line, their movements sharp and synchronized.
He leaned against one of the stone pillars, the surface warm beneath his palm, and watched quietly. But his mind wasn't on their routine.
The dream still haunted him, vivid, heavy, impossible to ignore.
Lang had always been fearless, his strength molded through years of discipline. His body bore the mark of his training, muscles carved by effort, posture steady like stone. He had defeated every monk in single combat at least once, but none of that made the unease fade.
The dream had unsettled something deeper.
He exhaled slowly, eyes drifting toward the horizon.
A voice broke through his thoughts.
"Mind if I join you?"
---