Ragnar struggled to open his eyes but felt so drowsy and... comfortable?
"Urgghh..." he groaned.
His eyes squinted slightly, trying to adjust to the sudden intake of light, but he still failed to open them because the light was just too bright.
Strangely, he felt so lazy that he simply gave up on opening his eyes and embraced his pillow tightly, ready to fall into another round of sleep.
"Young man, what do you think you're doing?" a mature female voice sounded from the doorway, making Ragnar immediately jump up in alarm.
"Huh? Who are you?" Ragnar asked with a puzzled expression while trying to adjust to the brightness in the room.
The lady looked at Ragnar for a few seconds before turning to look behind herself, as though checking if someone else was standing there. The action made Ragnar even more alert.
Seeing no one behind her, she pointed at herself while nodding towards Ragnar with a questioning look on her face.
Ragnar recognised the motion. He recognised the face. He knew he would be in danger no matter which reply he gave, but he just couldn't understand what was going on.
The brief pause gave him time to slowly look around the room he was currently in.
Sketches were pasted messily across the walls. A huge photograph of his favourite actor hung among the various pictures decorating the room.
The messy clothes scattered around the floor. Looking down at himself, he realised he was wearing fluffy cartoon nightwear.
"How?" he asked with a frown. At that moment, he also realised his voice sounded far too tiny compared to what he remembered.
"If you don't move downstairs this minute, I'll definitely show you how!" An angry voice shook him out of his reverie, but he was still too disoriented to register his current predicament.
This time, his gaze fixed on the lady before him.
There was no mistaking it.
The silky flowing black hair. The ocean-blue pupils that seemed to shrink and enlarge depending on her mood. Seeing how her pupils were shrinking with bulging veins at the side of her head, he knew he was in trouble.
"Mom?" he called out softly, as though afraid that his voice might wake him from this dream too early.
"Oh, so now you know who I am..." She was caught completely off guard when Ragnar threw himself into her in a tight embrace.
Ragnar bawled his eyes out. He wailed so loudly that his father, who was downstairs, rushed upstairs to see what was going on.
"Lily?? What's—"
He stopped mid-sentence as he saw his wife gesturing for him to be quiet.
They both had questions, but at this moment Ragnar seemed more broken than anything else.
His father's huge frame towered over both of them as he pulled them into his embrace.
Feeling another presence joining them, Ragnar looked up at his father.
"Dad?" His voice came out trembling.
"Son... it's me. Dad is here." His father hurriedly comforted him, making Ragnar tremble even more.
"It really is you. It's... it's both of you." His voice shook even harder. He looked so broken, so fragile, that even his mother felt the urge to shed tears.
He looked so devastated that his parents couldn't even understand where all the sadness was coming from.
"Don't leave me again... I beg you... don't... don't leave me again."
His muffled voice came out between sobs, buried against his father's chest.
Both parents exchanged glances but couldn't understand what was happening, so they silently held him tightly.
A few minutes later, Ragnar could be seen stuffing down all types of food, and with each plate he emptied, his hunger seemed to increase along with the bliss on his face.
"Oh, Mom, you're the best. I really missed this... mmm... crunch... crunch."
His parents watched with confusion on their faces but still waited patiently for their son to come through.
The rest of the day went on with no events except for his parents just trying their best to satisfy him.
The following morning felt almost... normal.
Ragnar lazily rubbed his eyes before glancing towards the window. Snow rested gently upon the rooftops across the neighbourhood while the pale morning sun illuminated the quiet street below. A young couple walked hand in hand across the pavement as an elderly man slowly cycled past them with a basket full of groceries.
Everything felt... alive.
He quietly sat up on the edge of the bed. No nightmares. No blood. No screams. No endless battlefields. Just silence.
His gaze wandered across his room before settling on the sketchbook lying on the study desk. A page had been left open, revealing an unfinished pink butterfly sketched across it. One wing was beautifully completed while the other remained nothing more than rough outlines.
"...Did I draw that?" Ragnar frowned before shaking his head. "Guess I really was exhausted yesterday."
"Ragnar!" Lily's voice echoed from downstairs.
"You'll miss the bus!"
"I'm coming."
Breakfast was as lively as ever. Johan folded the morning newspaper before taking another sip of coffee.
"So..." He looked over the rim of his glasses.
"Feeling better today?"
Ragnar looked up from his sandwich.
"...Better?"
"You scared your mother yesterday."
Lily lightly smacked Johan's arm.
"You scared both of us."
Ragnar lowered his head slightly.
"...Sorry."
Lily smiled before placing another slice of cheese onto his plate.
"Eat. You're still growing."
"...Yes, Mom."
The streets of Södermalm bustled with students rushing towards school while buses arrived one after another. Ragnar quietly stepped through the school gates.
"Ragnar!"
A familiar voice shouted behind him before someone threw an arm around his shoulders.
"There you are!"
Another boy laughed.
"I told you he'd oversleep again."
Ragnar turned around.
Daniel.
Lucas.
His childhood friends.
"...Morning."
The two boys exchanged confused looks.
"That's it?" Daniel blinked.
"No insults?"
Lucas narrowed his eyes.
"You sick?"
Ragnar merely smiled.
"...Just tired."
Their eyes widened with their hands over their mouth as they looked at him suspiciously.
"What?" Ragnar asked with a fake frown on his face.
"Ragnar don't tell us you spent the whole night listening on ...."
Daniel quickly covered his friend's mouth quickly but his eyes said he was also very curious.
At first Ragnar wasn't sure they what they were talking about, but a certain memory suddenly came to his mind and his fake frown immediately turned real.
"Let's go, idiots". The three friends laughed away as they strode into their classes.
The morning lessons passed uneventfully. Mathematics, history and religion all felt strangely nostalgic. Even Mr. Eriksson still scratched the back of his head whenever solving equations on the board. Some habits truly never changed.
By afternoon, the students had gathered inside the art classroom.
Today's assignment was figure drawing.
A female student volunteered to stand at the front of the room while everyone quietly began sketching her posture.
Only Ragnar's pencil moved differently.
His eyes occasionally lifted towards the model, yet every line appearing on his paper refused to become human.
Five minutes later...
"Ragnar."
The classroom became unusually quiet.
Mr. Nilsson stood beside his desk before slowly picking up the drawing.
Instead of the female model...
An unfinished butterfly occupied the entire page.
One wing had already been coloured a gentle shade of pink.
The other remained unfinished.
The teacher stared at it for several seconds before adjusting his glasses.
"...Ragnar."
"...Yes, sir?"
"I know she's a beautiful girl..."
The classroom suddenly burst into laughter.
"...But this is a little too romantic for someone your age."
Even the girl standing as today's model couldn't stop herself from laughing.
Ragnar blinked.
"...Huh?"
Mr. Nilsson sighed while handing the sketchbook back.
"If you insist on seeing butterflies whenever you look at girls, then that's your business. But you'll definitely fail my class if you keep drawing them instead of the actual model."
More laughter erupted throughout the classroom.
Ragnar looked down at his own drawing.
"...When did I..."
He genuinely couldn't remember drawing it.
The rest of the lesson passed quickly.
School ended shortly after three.
"Arcade?" Daniel grinned.
"Come on."
"We haven't gone in forever."
Lucas nodded enthusiastically.
"You still owe me a rematch."
"...Fine."
The arcade near Sergels Torg remained exactly how Ragnar remembered. Bright lights illuminated the hall while electronic melodies echoed endlessly between rows of machines. Basketball, racing simulators, fighting games... for the first time in what felt like forever, Ragnar genuinely laughed.
"You lost again!" Daniel pointed at the scoreboard before bursting into laughter.
"You've gotten rusty."
Lucas proudly folded his arms.
"I remain undefeated."
"Oh, shut up."
The three boys laughed together as they walked towards the exit.
Just before leaving, Ragnar's footsteps came to a halt.
Inside a nearby claw machine sat dozens of stuffed toys.
Among them...
A single pink butterfly.
"I guess it's you I've been trying to draw all day"
"...Ragnar?" Lucas called.
"You coming?"
Ragnar blinked before quietly looking away.
"...Yeah."
Dinner that evening was loud. Lily complained that Daniel was becoming a bad influence despite Daniel not even being present. Johan defended the poor boy anyway, and somehow the conversation drifted towards football before everyone found themselves laughing again.
Lying on his bed that night, Ragnar quietly stared at the ceiling.
His room remained the same.
His parents were alive.
His friends were here.
His home still existed.
Not once today had anything felt truly unnatural.
"...Maybe..."
He slowly closed his eyes.
"...Maybe this really is another chance."
A small smile formed on his face.
"...This time...I'll make a difference."