THREADED IN

The moment it ended, Kyren was gone.

Luke leaned back on the park bench, phone to his ear, the swing set creaking quietly behind him.

The night settled like a held breath.

"You picked up," he said as soon as Luna answered.

"You were gone for two hours. I was about to track your location and send a search party," she snapped. "Where the hell did you go?"

"I found him."

There was a pause on the line.

"The guy from earlier?" Luna asked.

"Yeah. I followed him through some narrow streets. Lost him for a bit… but I caught up. He was sitting at a park. On a swing."

Luke stared ahead, eyes fixed on the dark silhouette of the trees.

"And?"

"There was a thread," he said quietly. "Wrapped around him. Pale blue. It wasn't tied to anyone else. Just him."

Luna's voice dropped. "Blue?"

"Loneliness," Luke said. "I think that's what it was. It felt… heavy."

He heard her exhale. Processing.

"So what happened?"

"We talked. He—" Luke paused. "He's not who they think he is. That girl earlier? She was wrong. He didn't try to steal anything. He picked up her wallet and chased her down to give it back."

Luna was quiet.

"He's innocent," Luke continued. "He's just… tired. Like he's spent his whole life getting blamed for things he didn't do."

"And you believe him."

"I do."

Another pause.

Then: "That's rare for you."

Luke smiled faintly. "He needed someone to."

"And you just… found him. In a park."

"Yeah," Luke said. "Just lucky, I guess."

He didn't mention the rooftop. Didn't bring up the inhuman leap, or the way Kyren had moved like gravity was optional. He wasn't ready to explain that part. Not yet.

"I think we should keep an eye on him," Luke added. "Just… not in the way you're thinking."

Luna's voice softened a little.

"You're serious about this."

"Yeah. I am."

"Alright," she said finally. "If you say he's worth trusting… I'll believe you. For now."

"Thanks."

Luke hung up before she could say anything else.

He sat in silence for a while, letting the city breathe around him.

Somewhere behind him, the swing chains creaked.

He didn't look back.

Luke walked home alone, hands in his pockets, the wind brushing cold against his sleeves. 

He reached home, locked the door behind him, and tossed his shoes aside with more force than necessary. The lights were off. No one else awake. Just silence.

The kind that made you think too much.

Luke lay on his bed, arms behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

It was past midnight.

The room was quiet—too quiet. The kind that made thoughts louder than they should be.

He blinked at the cracks in the paint, letting his mind drift.

Kyren.

The name echoed in his head like it was supposed to mean something. Like it belonged to another story entirely.

He mouthed it again.

"Kyren…"

It rang a bell—but softly, and from very far away. Like a dream he forgot to remember.

But it wasn't just the name that kept him up.

It was his reflexes.

The impossible one.

The way Kyren had moved—fluid, fast, inhuman. Like he wasn't bound by the same rules as everyone else.

Luke turned to his side, brow furrowed.

"What the hell was that?"

Was that… an Echo?

The thought made his stomach twist.

He had no proof. No real explanation. But whatever it is—it wasn't normal.

And then there were the threads.

Luke stared at the shadows on the ceiling, tracing imaginary lines through them.

Pale blue.

He remembered the way it curled around Kyren's arms. Loose. Gentle. Like it wasn't restraining him—but holding him together.

Loneliness.

He'd seen other colors before. Tied around strangers. But this one lingered. Tangled in Kyren's limbs.

If Kyren really had an Echo… does that mean he was—

He stopped himself.

He didn't want to think of Kyren as one of them.

Not because he was afraid—But because, for the first time, someone didn't feel like a puzzle to solve.

He just felt... real.

Hurt, confused, trying. Luke had seen all of that in his eyes.

And somehow, that made him harder to forget.

By morning, the city had returned to motion.

Luke woke up with a dull ache behind his eyes.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep—only that he didn't dream. Or maybe he did and just forgot.

The morning moved in a blur. Shower. Uniform. Half-burnt toast. And then the walk to school, the sky still shaking off dawn.

His thoughts hadn't settled.

He kept seeing flashes of blue thread. Kyren's voice. That tight, broken hug.

The words echoed louder now, like he needed to hear them too.

By the time he reached the building, the noise of the school wrapped around him again—chatter in the halls, lockers slamming, shoes squeaking on polished tile.

Normal chaos.

At least, until he turned the final corner toward his classroom—

And stopped.

Right at the doorway, leaning casually against the frame like he belonged there, was a familiar figure.

Same messy hair.

Same relaxed posture.

Same sharp eyes.

"Morning," Kyren said, grinning. "Sleep well?"

Luke blinked. Hard.

"Wait—what?"

Kyren raised a brow. "That's how we're starting the day?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Standing," Kyren replied dryly. "Breathing. You?"

"No—I mean… here. In front of my classroom."

Kyren smirked, stepping aside so Luke could see the nameplate above the door.

"Yours? Thought it was ours now."

Luke stared. "What?"

"Saw your ID yesterday," Kyren said casually. "When we were talking? Caught a glimpse—same year, same school. Different sections, though."

Luke blinked. "So... you just... transferred?"

"Yep."

"That fast?"

Kyren leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Wanna hear a secret?"

Luke frowned. "What—"

Kyren leaned even closer, his lips brushing the edge of Luke's ear.

"Actually the school dean is my father."

Then he winked.

Luke recoiled slightly. "You're joking."

"Wouldn't that be more fun?" Kyren said, laughing. "But nope."

"But why would you—"

Kyren shrugged, half-smiling.

"Let's just say… perks of being a family disappointment."

Luke raised a brow.

"They don't ask. I don't tell. I move around a lot. They think if they let me do what I want, maybe I'll stop dragging the family name through the dirt."

His tone was light, but the bitterness slipped in at the edges—sharp, unfiltered.

"They may not give a damn about me. But they make sure I have what I need. Just so I won't get in trouble."

Luke didn't speak.

Kyren gave a crooked smile.

Luke didn't know what to say to that.

Before he could decide, the bell rang.

Kyren tilted his head toward the door.

"Coming in?"

Luke slipped into his seat, still trying to process everything.

Kyren, the dean's son?

In his class?

Just hours ago, they were strangers in a park, sharing the kind of breakdown you don't come back from.

And now they were sharing a syllabus.

The teacher droned on at the front—something about course outlines and first quarter grading—but Luke barely heard a word.

The door creaked open.

Late.

As usual.

Luna slid in, barely looking at the teacher as she made her way to the seat beside Luke. The teacher didn't even pause.

She leaned over as soon as she sat down.

"Why is he here?"

Luke followed her gaze to the far side of the room—where Kyren sat with his chair tilted slightly back, arm slung over the backrest like he was already bored.

Luke whispered back, "Transferred."

"What? Why?"

"Apparently, he saw my ID yesterday. Found out we're in the same year and school, just different sections."

Luna raised a brow. "So he just switched?"

"His dad's the school dean."

Luna blinked. "Are you serious?"

Luke nodded.

"And he just... what, charmed his way into our room?"

"That, or blackmailed someone," Luke muttered. "He didn't say."

Before Luna could reply, the teacher cleared his throat.

"Attendance," he said, grabbing the clipboard.

Names rolled out one after the other. Bored replies. Present, here, yeah.

Then—

"Cruz, Kyren?"

Luke felt Luna stiffen beside him.

Kyren raised a hand lazily. "Here."

The teacher moved on.

But Luna didn't.

"Kyren Cruz…" she whispered under her breath.

The teacher moved on.

"Cruz, Kyren?"

A lazy hand raised from the back.

"Here."

Luke didn't look, but he could feel Kyren's grin even from across the room.

Beside him, Luna stiffened.

"Kyren Cruz?"

Her whisper was sharp. Controlled—but Luke caught the edge in her tone.

He turned to her. "What?"

Luna leaned in slightly, brows drawn. "I've seen that name before."

"Where?"

"In that library." She kept her eyes on the teacher but her voice dropped. "Not the books—the files. School incident reports. A few old forum threads buried in the backups."

"And?"

"Student involved in multiple disciplinary incidents. Kyren Cruz." Her lips pressed into a thin line. "He's been in trouble before. A lot, apparently."

Luke blinked.

Luna's gaze slid sideways. "You didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

"I didn't know."

"You spent the night talking to him and didn't once think to ask why people might be whispering about him?"

"He's not—" Luke hesitated. "He's not what people think."

Luna leaned back, unimpressed. "That's what all disasters say before they happen."

 | He wasn't sure what worried him more—

 | That Kyren was in his class now…

 | Or that he didn't mind.