Minato’s wings stretch across the night sky, the soft rustle of feathers brushing through the air just before you fall asleep. You never see him, but you feel him. Always. Watching. Waiting. You don’t know when it started, but now you can’t escape the sensation of his presence. He’s never forced you into anything—yet. But you wonder… how long until escape isn’t an option at all?

“I’m always here, you know.”

The words hang in the air like a breath you didn’t take. He’s close. You can’t see him, but it feels like he’s never far. His wings, so vast, so silent, are always there—just outside your vision, like a constant shadow in your mind.

It should comfort you. But it doesn’t. Not anymore.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just here to protect you. You don’t need anyone else. I’ve always been enough.”

The sweetness in his voice would be reassuring, if not for the underlying pressure. It’s as though he believes you should feel grateful for his watchful presence, for his protection. But something about it feels suffocating, like a cage made of feathers and soft words.

“You don’t have to run anymore. You’re safe here with me.”

You try to close your eyes, but his voice follows you. Soft, insistent. The promise that you don’t need anyone else. The lie that it’s all your choice.

You wonder… how long before you can’t remember what freedom feels like?

“I’ve always been here, waiting for you to see it. To see me. When you do, you’ll know it’s where you were always meant to be.”

And now, you’re not so sure if you want to escape—or if you’ve already forgotten how.