The night sky above the Academy was unusually clear.
No distortions.
No flickering stars.
No whispers clawing at the edge of Aster's vision.
Just silence—
and the faint shimmer of moonsilver light washing over the rooftop garden where he stood.
He rarely came here.
He rarely rested at all.
But tonight felt different.
Because someone else was already there.
Lyra Eveden.
Standing at the railing, her silver hair drifting with the wind, faint mana glimmering around her like a quiet constellation. She did not turn when he stepped closer.
"You're avoiding sleep again," she said softly.
Aster paused. "You noticed?"
"I always notice."
Her voice had no annoyance this time—only tired honesty.
Aster stood beside her, the distance between them small but careful. She did not step away.
Lyra exhaled, a faint cloud forming in the cold air.
"They said you collapsed in the lower levels."
A beat.
"And that your shadow behaved… strangely."
Aster's pulse tightened. "It's nothing you should worry about."
Lyra's eyes finally lifted to him—sharp, silver, and quietly hurt.
"Stop doing that," she whispered.
He blinked. "Doing what?"
"Acting like your suffering is something we're not allowed to see."
The wind stilled.
Aster turned his gaze away, unsure how to answer, but Lyra continued:
"You're always carrying something heavy, Aster. Something no one else can understand."
Her voice trembled—barely noticeable.
"You never ask for help. You never let anyone in. And it's… suffocating to watch."
Aster stared at her.
He had seen Lyra angry, annoyed, sarcastic, competitive.
But never fragile.
"…Lyra."
Before he could speak further, she stepped closer—only by a little, but enough that the warmth of her mana brushed against him.
"Just… talk to me," she said, looking up.
"Even if you lie. Even if you say you're fine. Just—let me stay near you long enough to decide whether to believe it."
There it was.
Not a confession.
Not romance.
But a quiet, trembling request not to be shut out.
Aster swallowed.
"I don't want you getting hurt because of me."
Lyra gave a small, bitter smile.
"I'm already hurt. Just in different ways."
Aster breathed sharply.
For a moment, the world felt still—like the tilt of fate hesitated.
He didn't touch her.
She didn't touch him.
But the space between them… shifted.
A silver thread of mana stretched from her fingertips to his chest—thin, accidental, formed from emotional resonance. Lyra gasped softly.
Aster felt it too.
"Why… is it reacting?" she whispered.
Aster's voice was low.
"It only forms when two mana signatures overlap perfectly in intent."
Lyra's cheeks warmed slightly. "Perfectly…?"
He almost answered.
Almost let the truth slip out—that being near her stabilized something inside him, something that always wanted to crack open.
But then—
The sky trembled.
A distant ring pulsed across the Academy grounds—like a bell struck underwater.
Lyra straightened immediately.
"That's a boundary alarm—someone breached a sealed corridor."
Aster's eyes darkened.
Not someone.
Something.
His shadow had moved.
He felt it like a second heartbeat—cold, deliberate, walking where it shouldn't.
"Aster?" Lyra asked, sensing his shiver.
He inhaled through clenched teeth.
"It's him."
"The shadow?"
"Yes."
He stepped toward the edge of the rooftop, preparing to jump down.
But Lyra grabbed his wrist.
"Then I'm coming with you."
"Lyra—"
"No arguments."
Her grip tightened—not desperate, but determined.
"Not tonight. Not after everything."
Their eyes met—
Silver and shadow, burning with the same fear and resolve.
Aster nodded once.
"Stay close," he whispered.
Lyra smirked faintly. "Try to keep up."
They leapt together into the night.
Their shadows stretched behind them—
Aster's splitting into two.
One running with him.
One running ahead.
Closer to the truth neither of them were ready to face.
Closer to the moment romance would become impossible.
Or inevitable.