A damp coldness was the primary thing you took notice of when you began to wake up. The wet feeling was uncomfortably present in your senses, accompanied by a heavy pounding in your head.

At first, your sleep-drunken mind didn't work too well but then you started thinking and -more importantly- remembering.

You had passed out in your backyard after Kanjigar... left.

That's right. He left.

The dew covered grass pressing against your skin appeared to sap all the leftover heat from within you at that thought; the headache spiking.

It was impossible to understand, let alone accept.

Opening your eyes, you saw the end of a sunrise in the sky. But the colors looked grey and dull. There was nothing beautiful about it.

How fitting.

A boring sunrise to welcome back a boring life.

Could you even call it a life now that you know of what it could've been?

A deep sigh left your lungs and you forced your body to sit up. You had to shower and get warmed up again. Make breakfast. Go to school. Live life like a human was supposed to.

...

Your head refused to work so your body switched to autopilot, moving itself inside the house and to the bathroom.

The hot water felt numbing, the steam suffocating.

What was even going on?

It felt surreal. Did last night really happen?

Of course it did. You woke up outside. How could it not have happened?

Leaving the bathroom with new clothes, you walked into the kitchen and grabbed some cereal. Your hand moved to take out a bowl from the cupboard but your fingers slipped on the glass.

Even as the fragile bowl fell past your face in slow motion, you didn't move to catch it. You could only watch until it shattered on the tiles in front of your bare feet.

The sound was strangely soothing. So clear and pure.

Staring down at the shards, you were suddenly hit with a nauseating whirl of emotions.

What were you doing? Pretending it was but another day? Did you hope that would fool you into thinking your heart wasn't splitting apart? That it would make reality more bearable?

Sinking down to hug your knees, you felt tears pricking in your eyes again. A few of the shards on the floor dug into the bottom of your feet.

You were so stupid. So insanely stupid. Why did you say all of those things to him? Why couldn't you have talked to him? Asked him to stay?

Maybe you could've changed his mind.

Salty drops hit the tiles, mixing with the fresh smears of blood.

So stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, st-

Your pocket vibrated, pulling you just enough out of that mental spiral to reach inside and feel that it was your phone buzzing.

You hit the power-on button without much thought, making the lockscreen light up and show a low battery warning as well as a notification from Thomas.

'R u ok?!?'

A glance to the clock was enough to understand the message. School had started half an hour ago and Thomas had sent you approximately twenty-three texts. There were seven missed calls as well.

Frozen in place, you weren't sure what to do.

There was no way you were in the condition to be in any social setting right now.

You were just much too messy in the head.

So you opened up your chat with the tall teen and typed in two words before hitting send.

'Sick. Sorry.'

You couldn't stand to read any of his other messages and simply shut off your phone completely.

...

What were you doing?
Sitting here, both feet in glass shards, lying to your best friend. You didn't like to lie to him at all.

What else could you do?

You couldn't talk to anyone about Kanjigar. Not unless you wanted to land in a mental ward.

Well, maybe that might be a fairly favourable option.

A dry laugh broke from your lips and finally, you sat back to lift your feet from the now red stained shards.

Some of them stuck so you pulled them out. None of the cuts were deep. The pain wasn't even that noticeable. The warm trickles of blood felt like nothing.

There was no more energy left in your bones even though you just woke up a few minutes ago. You didn't have the strength to finish getting cereal or to move to the couch either and just laid down on the floor right there, sobbing into the still air.

The sound echoed back quietly in the empty house.

"Please. Please just let this be a nightmare. Let me go to sleep and wake up from this terrible dream," you whispered to the kitchen ceiling, hoping it would listen and fulfill your wish. You closed your stinging eyes.

Of course, it was foolish. After all, you already knew from experience that it didn't work like this. Especially not when you were asking random pieces of a house for mercy.

At least you were so exhausted that it didn't take long until you had passed out again. The emotional turmoil must be causing your body to react with a self-protecting sleep.

Or maybe it was just your kitchen ceiling feeling gracious today.

---

Thomas stared at the simple text his moody friend had sent in response to his barrage of messages. He was relieved that she answered and yet at the same time worried about what she answered.

Something about it was bugging him.

He shook his head. Probably just overthinking again.

Hopefully it hadn't been him who brought his sister's sickness to (Y/n) during the weekend. He'd have to check by her place later and bring her some porridge.

"Don't just stare at your phone forever, tell us what she wrote!" came the impatient voice of Tobias, who was leaning over in his chair to try and sneak a glance at Thomas' phone screen.

Only now remembering that others were waiting for his answer, the dark-skinned boy grew red around the ears and cleared his throat to try and cover up his embarrassment.

"R-right, sorry. Uhm, she's sick," he stammered out, putting away his phone quickly.

They were having a fifteen minute break between classes and Mr.Strickler sat at the front by his desk, sipping some water.

"Awww, what?" Tobias whined, flopping back in his chair and nearly causing it to tip over, "and just the day something exciting possibly happened."

The last part was more mumbled, which was why Thomas didn't fully understand it. Although he didn't think much of it either way.

Jim, who hadn't paid too much attention until now -he and his chubby friend had been distracted with something all morning- turned slightly to look at Thomas. His brows wrinkled in worry as he spoke in a hushed tone, "sick? Did she already tell a teacher?"

Thomas shrugged. Then he glanced to the history teacher at the front of the class, still casually sipping water.

"I'll go tell Mr.Strickler, just in case," he announced to the two boys, moving to stand and make his way to the teacher's desk.

Strickler noticed Thomas walking up and put down his bottle to smile at the lanky teen instead.

"Is something the matter, Shyer?" the older man asked, using Thomas' surname like he did with every student.

"Oh, uh, no... Well, actually, yes. Did (Y/n) already call in sick today? She just texted me and I wasn't sure so I just- you know, wanted to, uh, make sure," his lack of confidence didn't make it easy on him as he tried to speak clearly.

But although the words came out clumsy and awkward, the teacher seemed to understand. For a moment, his eyebrows lifted slightly, his eyes widened just a tiny fraction with a distant look and his smile dropped.

Thomas didn't know if he had imagined it though because the next moment, Strickler wore that calm smile he always had once more.

"Yes, she did," he answered. Of course, Thomas couldn't know that the teacher was lying. He also couldn't know that the teacher was fully aware of the real reason the girl didn't show up today. He had played a big part in that reason after all.

Having gotten an answer, Thomas nodded. Relief washed over him as he returned to his seat with a quick 'alright, thanks' to Mr.Strickler, unaware of the brief shimmer of sadness in the man's green eyes.

Jim and Toby, whispering between themselves, snapped back to attention once Thomas got closer. He curtly informed them that everything seemed fine but before he could continue with anything else, he felt someone poke into his back.

His first instinct was to yell (Y/n)'s name but since he knew that it couldn't be her, all he managed was a surprised squeak. Turning around on his chair at record speed, Thomas immediately relaxed when he looked into the nervous face of Eli Pepperjack.

"Gee, Eli," Thomas breathed out, holding a hand over his heart as if he had nearly gotten a heart attack, "you scared me."

A sarcastic 'Oh really? We didn't notice' came from Toby, who was behind him now, but Thomas chose to ignore it. Instead, he focused on the thin boy in front of him.

It was quite rare for the small teen to approach him like this. Thomas figured that he was too intimidated by (Y/n) to do so usually. But now that she wasn't here, he probably felt more comfortable.

It was kind of weird, really. Why was he scared of the girl? Not like she ever bullied him or anything... Or, did she?

Thomas didn't know anything about the past relationships between his classmates since he only transferred here way after the others met.

But he couldn't for the life of him imagine his best friend bullying someone.

Other than Steve, of course. But Steve deserved it anyway.

"Haha, sorry, Thomas," Eli apologized softly, rubbing the back of his head before he pushed up his glasses and an excited glint entered his eyes, "did you hear about the latest modern microphone prototype?"

Diving into a conversation about the newest tech developments with nerdy Eli, Thomas was quickly distracted from his worries. Although he wasn't that good with machines, he was interested in a lot of things music related. That included sound programs and microphones.

Eli did mention some other strange stuff that Thomas assumed had to do with his hobby of researching supernatural phenomenon, like these 'monsters with stone for skin' he supposedly saw this morning by the canals. Probably just stayed up too late playing video games or something.

With Thomas now in a giddy discussion, Jim and Toby had a bit of privacy and time to talk alone.

This gave the two best friends the opportunity to chat about the mysterious amulet they had picked up this morning.

And that strange pile of rocks it was in.

---

"Thomas, I told you I'm fine. You don't need to get any more medicine or heated waterbottles for me, alright?" you said to the lanky teen as he was pacing up and down your living room nervously.

"You passed out with your backdoor wide open, (Y/n)! That's not exactly the definition of 'being fine'!" he responded with an aggravated movement of his hands, stopping his walk to turn to you and give you that typical scolding look, "I should be calling the hospital, you know?"

You only rolled your eyes and hugged the warm waterbottle closer to your chest, shifting a bit to lay more comfortably on the couch.

Just half an hour ago, your dark-skinned friend had come to visit you after school and found you sleeping in the kitchen, surrounded by bloody glass shards.

He spent the rest of that half hour fuzzing over you until you were packed in a blanket with a wonderfully warm heater on your stomach and had a pot of porridge cooking on the stove.

It had been a little confusing to you as to how he got in but apparently you had forgotten to close the backdoor after using it this morning.

Thomas looked like he wanted to give you more of his motherly scolding but managed to contain it with a big in- and exhale.

You watched as he calmed himself down and then how he walked over to you and sat down by your legs.

"I was just really worried about you," he began, looking down at the folded hands in his lap, "especially when I saw the, well uhm, mess you made."

You knew he was talking about the cuts on your feet, which he had patched up also, and more specifically about the dried blood they left on your floor. Probably a pretty daunting view to walk in on.

For a while, it was silent. Thomas looked like he was in deep thought, worry written clearly across his face.

You thought back to the text you had sent him this morning.

It still didn't sit right with you that you lied. After all, you usually made a pretty big deal out of not lying even if it would be easier.

But you couldn't tell Thomas about what happened with Kanjigar. Not only would that require you to tell him the entire story of how this started last year during winter but also to somehow teach him about this secret otherworldly magical realm.

Well, maybe you couldn't tell him the whole truth.

But you could at least tell him part of it.

"Hey, Tommy?"

The teen perked up, his dark eyes shifting toward you attentively. He waited patiently for you to keep going.

"I-.. I'm not actually sick," you admitted but Thomas didn't give much of a reaction. You assumed he already figured as much himself, "last night someone who was like family, well, they..." your mind flickered about, trying to find the best words to say this with, "they said their last goodbye."

The words came out forced but you knew you had to say them.

It felt good to tell Thomas, although at the same time you also weren't sure what to do now. This was kind of a strange situation to be in. Talking about feelings and all. It was one you weren't used to.

When you looked back to your friend, he wore a soft and saddened expression.

"I'm sorry about your family member, (Y/n)," Thomas said, his voice gentle and genuine as he turned his body to face you, "..do you need anything?"

His understanding, caring words somehow stirred up your insides again.

They had been fairly calm for a bit but now? It felt even worse than before.

His concern for you seemed to punch the reality of last night's events into your brain.

Kanjigar really did abandon you. He left. He's gone. No more nightly lessons, no more walks in the woods.

You desperately fought to keep your eyes dry but they had other plans, already glossing over and making your vision blurry.

Taking a shaky breath, you threw Thomas a teary smile.

"I-..I really don't know..," your voice said, barely above a chocked whisper.

You had to look away, wiping at your eyes furiously.

Then you felt Thomas scoot closer and his hand on your shoulder. You glanced at him through your unshed tears, seeing his compassionate face.

"Would a hug help?" he asked quietly, holding out his arms towards you.

For a moment, you didn't move, thinking about his offer, but you didn't have to think that long before you nodded.

Gently, you were wrapped in a pair of lean arms, holding you close to your friend.

Despite the position being a bit awkward with the blanket and the hot waterbottle squished between you, it was still a comforting gesture.

After a second or two, you carefully returned the hug, easily able to fully wrap your arms around Thomas' slender upper body. Taking deep breaths to calm your nerves and those pesky things called emotions, the both of you stayed like this for a while.

Thomas didn't say anything, instead he rubbed your back soothingly. You focused on his vanilla caramel tea scent, finding comfort in the subtle notion of calmness it gave you.

For how long you had stayed like this was unclear afterwards but it certainly had done wonders for your state. At least, for now.

Heaving one last sigh, you leaned back from Thomas, releasing your hold around him, which prompted him to do the same. He stayed close but gave you enough space, observing you with worried eyes still.

"Better?" he asked carefully.

"Better," you responded, "by the way, you smell really nice."

The blank look on his face as his head tried to catch up with what you just said was rather amusing.

The nervous laughter and sweating afterwards even more so.

You leaned back into the couch, adjusting your blanket and snuggling the waterbottle into the right spot. Sleeping outside and then on the floor with an open door had been rather fresh so the heat you were surrounded by right now was quite nice.

"Thank you, Thomas," you told your friend, giving him a weak smile.

Before he could say anything else, the timer in the kitchen went off, beeping its heart out.

"Oh shit, the porridge!" cursed Thomas, practically flying up from the couch and into the kitchen to go see if it was still edible.

You smiled after him but couldn't keep it up for long. The hug did help but it's not like it just made everything alright again. There was still the undeniable fact that Kanjigar was gone for good.

You were probably never going to see him again.

Even if you went out to look, there was no way for you to find Trollmarket. Though you might be able to find the entrance, you'd need one of those, what were they called again? Horngazers?.. No, Horngazels, to open it.

He'd probably be extra attentive in avoiding you as well. So, either way, you had no chance to see him again.

Lost in those depressing thoughts, you didn't notice Thomas returning with a bowl of steaming porridge.

You also didn't notice the wistful look he gave you.

Only when he spoke again, did you realize he was back.

"There's more in the kitchen, if you want."

"Oh, sure, thanks, Tommy," you answered, glancing at the food.

You hadn't eaten all day but you weren't really feeling too hungry.

"You don't have to stay, Thomas, you still have an actually sick sister to care for, right? By the way, take the meds you brought with you again. She'll need them more than I," speaking slowly, you couldn't directly look at your lanky friend.

Thomas didn't respond immediately, appearing to think for a moment. But then he gave a sigh and put a hand over his face.

"Yeah, you're right.. But don't hesitate to call me if you need anything, alright? Even if it's just someone to talk to."

Your answer came in the form of a nod, another weak smile and a mumbled 'thanks'.

The curly-haired boy seemed pleased enough with that because he showed you a reassuring smile and began gathering up his things, putting the medicine back into his bag.

"Oh, by the way, I'll be gathering homework and the like for you until you come back to school. Do you want today's things already?"

"Sure, I could use the distraction," you said, following him bustling about the living room with your eyes.

He placed a few paper sheets and notes on the table by the TV before making a beeline toward the frontdoor.

One last time, he turned and looked you in the eye.

"Take your time to rest. I'll be there for you, (Y/n)," and with that, he left your house, pulling the door shut behind him with a subtle click.

You heard his bicycle rattling and slowly getting quieter until it was all silent again.

You were alone once more.