Chapter 3: The Space Between Moments
Klein Moretti knew fear.
Not the everyday fear of uncertainty or danger. Not even the fear of death.
But the fear of the unknown.
The kind of fear that settled deep in the bones, whispering that he had stumbled upon something he wasn't meant to understand.
And yet, it was too late to turn back.
Because now, Klein wasn't just aware of Yeaia Nolas—he was aware of the space they left behind.
The unfilled gaps in his memory. The pauses in conversation where something should have been said.
Every time he tried to recall their voice, their exact words—the moment slipped away.
It was unnatural. Impossible. Even gods left traces.
But Yeaia?
It was as if reality itself refused to remember them.
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A Message Left Unwritten
The next day, Klein sat at his desk in his rented apartment, staring at a blank page in his notebook.
He had tried to write everything down. Everything he knew about Yeaia.
But no matter how he worded it—the ink would vanish.
Not smudged. Not erased.
Simply gone.
As if the words had never been written in the first place.
Klein exhaled, gripping his pen tighter.
He wasn't going to let this go.
If fate wouldn't acknowledge Yeaia, then he would find another way.
Taking a deep breath, he focused his mind and activated his Spirit Vision.
Immediately, the world shifted.
Colors bled into one another. The mundane apartment faded into a realm of cascading auras and spiritual imprints.
But something was wrong.
Normally, the world was full of traces—emotions left behind, lingering echoes of moments past.
But here?
Here, in this moment—there was an empty space.
A space where Yeaia should have been.
Not hidden. Not concealed.
Erased.
Even the gray fog of the spirit world refused to acknowledge them.
A shiver crawled up Klein's spine.
"What are you?" he muttered under his breath.
A soft chuckle answered him.
"Finally asking the right question, are we?"
Klein froze.
The voice had come from behind him.
Slowly, carefully, he turned his head.
Yeaia Nolas was sitting on his windowsill, draped in their usual lazy posture, head resting against the frame. Their black and white hair shimmered in the morning light, the streaks of red appearing and disappearing like a mirage.
They were watching him with a half-lidded gaze, as if they had been there the whole time.
And perhaps, they had.
Klein swallowed. He had checked. He had swept his apartment, secured his charms. And yet, Yeaia had appeared without a single trace.
As if they had always been here, waiting for him to notice.
"You're persistent," Yeaia remarked, stretching. "Most people give up after the first few times."
Klein didn't let his guard down.
"Most people don't have my patience."
Yeaia laughed at that, a soft, musical sound that somehow made Klein's unease worse.
"Patience, huh?" They smirked. "No, Klein Moretti. What you have isn't patience."
They leaned forward, silver-gray eyes boring into his.
"It's stubbornness."
Klein's breath hitched.
Because in that moment, he felt something pressing against his mind.
A weightless, formless pressure.
Not an attack. Not an intrusion.
Just a presence that shouldn't be there.
And then, just as quickly—it was gone.
Klein steadied himself, forcing his voice to remain level.
"What are you?" he repeated.
Yeaia exhaled slowly, tilting their head as if considering the question.
"A dream."
"A mistake."
"A moment that should have ended, but didn't."
Each answer was given with a lazy certainty, but Klein could tell—they weren't lying.
But they weren't telling the whole truth, either.
Klein narrowed his eyes. "Are you a Beyonder?"
Yeaia's lips curled in amusement.
"You really want to fit me into a category, don't you?"
"I need to understand what I'm dealing with," Klein countered.
Yeaia hummed in thought, then shrugged.
"I suppose if you had to compare… I'm closest to a Beyonder of the Fool Pathway."
Klein's grip tightened.
"But not quite?"
Yeaia's smile deepened.
"No. Not quite."
Something cold and heavy settled in Klein's stomach.
Because that meant that whatever Yeaia was… it was something even the Pathways couldn't fully define.
Which meant it was something far more dangerous than he had anticipated.
But before he could press further, Yeaia suddenly leaned in, their voice lowering into a murmur.
"You should be careful, Klein."
"You keep looking for answers, but you might not like the ones you find."
Klein refused to look away. "That's my choice to make."
Yeaia studied him for a long moment. Then, with a sigh, they leaned back again, gaze turning distant.
"…I wonder if that's why He's so interested in you."
Klein stiffened.
"He?"
Yeaia smirked.
"Oops. Did I say that out loud?"
Klein's heart pounded.
Were they referring to the Fool? The True Creator? The Lord of Mysteries himself?
Before he could ask—before he could react—Yeaia vanished again.
Not teleported.
Not hidden.
Just… gone.
And Klein?
Klein was left with a single, undeniable thought:
Whatever Yeaia Nolas was…
They were connected to something far beyond him.
And now, they were watching.
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End of Chapter 3
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