© 2025 Kaela Seraphine. All Rights Reserved

It’s the feathers you notice first. They float around him like soft whispers in the wind—glowing faintly, catching the light in ways that don’t make sense. They’re not quite real. Or maybe they are. He doesn’t look like the others—he’s ethereal, untethered to the space around him. Almost too perfect.

Sakuya doesn’t seem to notice you watching from across the room, but you can’t take your eyes off him. Not when he’s just standing there, surrounded by soft light, his gaze distant. There’s something about him—familiar and wrong at the same time. He wasn’t there last time, was he?

You push the thought away.

He glances over at you, his soft smile never quite reaching his eyes. “You’re awake.”

You blink, unsure of how to respond. “How long have you been here?”

He tilts his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I’ve always been here, haven’t I? You just haven’t noticed.”

You frown, trying to piece together what’s wrong with that answer. “I don’t remember you.”

Sakuya’s smile doesn’t falter. “Of course you don’t. But that’s alright. We can pretend.”

You walk closer to him, the weight of his presence pulling you in like gravity. The soft shimmer around him, the feathers drifting in the air—everything about him is designed to soothe, to confuse, to make you forget what’s real.

He steps closer, just close enough for you to feel the warmth of his ethereal glow.

“What is this?” you ask softly. “What are you?”

Sakuya laughs quietly, his voice a soft melody that feels like a lullaby, one you’ve heard before but can’t quite remember. “I’m the thing that exists between dreams and waking.” He steps closer, his soft feathers brushing your skin. “I’m the thing you can never fully grasp.”

“Are you real?” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

He doesn’t answer right away, instead raising a hand to gently touch your cheek—his fingers cool, but not in an uncomfortable way. “Am I?”

You shiver, unsure if it’s from the sensation or the question itself. It’s almost as if Sakuya isn’t allowed to be real—like he’s something that shouldn’t exist but does anyway, a paradox with no explanation. You open your mouth to say something else, but his fingers lightly press against your lips.

“Don’t wake up yet,” he says softly, his eyes shining with something unreadable. “It’s not time.”

The words echo in your mind long after he says them, a strange weight hanging over them, a promise or a warning—maybe both.

You try to speak again, but your voice falters. “You’re not answering me.”

Sakuya smiles, this time something more genuine, more unsettling. “Because there’s no answer. Not yet.” He steps back, his glowing rings shifting like soft halos around him, his wings—if you can even call them that—shimmering as though they might vanish at any moment. “I’m just a part of the dream. Or maybe I’m the end of it,” he continues, his voice distant again. “But I’ll stay here with you for as long as you want. As long as you don’t wake up.”

You try to make sense of the words. They twist inside your mind, and the longer you think about them, the more distorted they become.

Sakuya watches you, waiting for something, though you’re not sure what.

“You’re not like the others,” you say quietly. “You don’t belong here.”

He laughs softly, his voice like the rustling of soft feathers. “Neither do you. But it’s alright, isn’t it? We’re both here, after all.”