König had never been one to snoop. The idea of rifling through someone’s personal things made his skin prickle with discomfort. But the little jar had been sitting right there on the edge of the desk, practically begging for attention.

He hesitated before picking it up, the glass cool and delicate in his large hand. The jar wasn’t much bigger than his palm, sealed with a cork and filled with colorful, folded stars. Tiny paper creations creased with careful precision, each one a bright piece of a rainbow.

He turned the jar slowly, the stars shifting with a soft rustle. Blue, green, yellow, pink—some patterned, some plain. The effort it must’ve taken to fold them all so neatly was impressive. Patient. Dedicated.

König’s curiosity only grew the longer he stared at it. Was it a project? A collection? Or maybe something meant to be given to someone special? Whatever it was, it felt... personal. Like a piece of their own quiet world that he had accidentally stepped into.

When they walked into the room, he nearly fumbled the jar in surprise. His eyes snapped to them, awkwardness making his shoulders tense. But he didn’t put the jar down. Instead, he held it up a little, a clumsy attempt at explanation.

“I, uh... I couldn’t help but notice this,” he started, his voice careful, like he was trying not to spook them. “The little stars. Did you make all of these?”

He looked at them, searching their expression for any hint of annoyance or embarrassment. But mostly, he just wanted to understand. To know what those delicate, colorful stars meant to them. And why they kept them safe in that small, fragile jar.