Herik stood quietly beside Juson, his tiny feet rubbing uncertainly against the floor as though he still hadn't learned to trust them completely. His legs trembled beneath his own weight, forcing him to shift awkwardly from one foot to the other in an effort to remain standing. Juson noticed the struggle immediately and bent down without a word, lifting him gently into his arms before the boy could lose his balance. Herik had only learned to stand and walk a few days earlier. Every movement still seemed unfamiliar to him, each step carrying the hesitation of someone discovering gravity for the first time.
From the kitchen, Yokina called out casually, asking Juson to brush Herik's teeth before breakfast. Juson paused for a brief moment at the doorway, his mind refusing to leave behind the strange incident that had unfolded only moments ago. The spinning clock, the unnatural heaviness inside the bedroom, and the expression in Herik's eyes still lingered somewhere in the back of his thoughts. Yet the ordinary rhythm of the morning demanded his attention once again. Without replying, he carried Herik toward the bathroom, gently rubbing the child's back as he walked.
Inside the bathroom, Juson placed Herik down beside the small wooden stool and softly told him to bring it closer to the washbasin. The little boy obediently dragged it across the tiled floor, the scraping sound echoing lightly through the room before carefully positioning it beneath the mirror.
Without asking for help, Herik attempted to climb onto it himself, but before he could manage it, Juson reached down and lifted him into place. Standing behind him, Juson picked up the toothbrush, squeezed a small amount of toothpaste onto its bristles, and carefully began brushing Herik's teeth with slow, practiced movements. It was a simple routine they followed every morning, one that usually passed without thought.
Today, however, Juson's attention drifted elsewhere. His eyes settled on Herik's hair. It had grown noticeably faster than he remembered. Almost absentmindedly, he raised his free hand and ran his fingers gently through the boy's soft hair, examining it more closely. That simple motion brought his gaze lower, toward the side of Herik's neck.
There, just beneath the ear, he noticed something that immediately tightened his expression. A faint bluish mark rested against the skin. It wasn't large enough to seem alarming, nor dark enough to resemble a bruise, but it looked undeniably unusual. For a moment, Juson considered that perhaps it was only the result of delicate skin or an awkward sleeping position. Even as he tried convincing himself of that explanation, something deep inside refused to accept it. He said nothing, choosing instead to observe it a little longer before drawing any conclusions.
The brushing continued until Herik suddenly shifted uncomfortably and pulled his head away, pushing the toothbrush aside with a faint sound of protest. Juson blinked, realizing he had continued longer than necessary. "Alright... done," he murmured gently before helping the child rinse his mouth beneath the running tap. Water splashed clumsily against the sink as Herik tried copying Juson's movements, and once his face had been wiped clean, Juson carefully lifted him down onto the floor again. The moment his feet touched the tiles, Herik wandered out of the bathroom without hesitation, drawn instinctively toward the sounds coming from the kitchen where Yokina continued preparing breakfast. Juson remained behind for another moment. He rinsed the toothbrush, returned it neatly to its place, and slowly stepped back into the hallway.
Herik's faint voice drifted from the kitchen, but instead of following him, Juson turned toward the child's bedroom. Something continued pulling at the edge of his thoughts. The room stood exactly as they had left it. Herik's bed rested beside the doorway, its sheets neatly spread without the slightest disturbance. Juson approached slowly, inspecting the bedsheet first before lifting the pillow into his hands. It felt soft. Too soft. Certainly not firm enough to leave a visible mark on the neck. He frowned, staring at it thoughtfully until an odd sensation beneath his fingertips caught his attention. The fabric felt slightly rough in one small area, almost as though fine particles had settled inside it. Curious, he struck the pillow lightly with the palm of his hand.
A thin layer of dust drifted into the air before settling gently across the bedsheet. Juson leaned closer, expecting nothing more than ordinary dirt. Instead, he found himself staring at something entirely different. The particles carried a faint bluish tint, resembling tiny grains of coloured sand rather than household dust. His expression hardened almost instantly. The strange colour awakened a feeling he couldn't explain. It seemed familiar, painfully familiar, yet no memory came with it. Slowly, almost instinctively, he extended his fingers toward the scattered grains, intending to examine them more closely. Before his hand could reach them, Yokina's voice echoed from the kitchen.
"Juson!"
He paused.
For a brief moment he considered ignoring her.
Instead, he withdrew his hand and straightened himself. "I'm coming," he answered before turning away from the bed and walking out of the room. The bedroom fell silent once more. Behind him, unnoticed, the fine blue particles shifted almost imperceptibly across the bedsheet, as though reacting to the warmth of the hand that had nearly touched them. Juson never looked back. He had already disappeared into the hallway, unaware that the strange sand had moved at all.