Mirror reflecting her face, Yuri’s stoic expression does not warp despite the sight of heavy bags entrenched under her dull, lifeless eyes. 

Dried tear streaks run down messily on either of her cheeks, her bangs pricking her eyes, doing nothing as she watches the water run down the faucet.

No matter a person’s death, life goes on as usual, traces of them as nil as if they didn’t exist.

Exiting the washroom, slow ticks resound from the amber wall clock on the east wall, breaking through the eerie silence in the dorm room. 

It was way past eight - past her first class. Yuri is in her pajamas, mind eons away from her daily routine

Wake up! Man, who really is the student between the two of us? Here. Your uniform.

Yena’s ghost of a memory echoes deafeningly in Yuri’s head, sitting mockingly on the empty chair she usually sits on while waiting for her to get ready for classes. 

At another tick of the clock, Yena’s image disappears as quickly as it came, wisping through thin air. Yuri clenches her teeth, legs wobbly, crumpling onto the floor. 

Hugging her knees to her chest, tear ducts empty, she dozes off into a dreamless slumber.

Time stops indefinitely, the small empty room suffocating her, making it hard to breathe. The only time the monotony breaks is when a maid knocks for laundry, to which she doesn’t answer most of the time. 

Raising her head, her gaze cross with the calendar on the wall. Once, Yena insisted on marking the days since she can’t for the love of Christ - whoever that is - keep up with the Chatan’s way of counting days and months.

Why do you call your months Fifth Moon, Sixth Moon? Don’t you have two moons? Why not call it Fifth Moons or something?

A small chuckle leaves her lips before her eyes catch the last marked day on the calendar.

The day before they left for the quest. 

The small smile on her lips disappear, tears blurring her eyesight again. Dragging her legs across the room, she carelessly tears the calendar from the wall. 

She knows the futility of the action, there are traces of Yena all over the room. Someday, she has to erase them too.

Summon another familiar, adjust her life back with a key like winding up a clockwork toy. 

Eventually, she has to escape from this darkness. To find her way back to her life before Yena came to wreak havoc in her life.

No, that’s not exactly right. Yena built her life up once more when she thought that nothing she can do can make her situation better. She never knew how lonely she actually was before she came along. She taught her not to box herself into hopelessness.

Stifling grief coils around her neck like a heavy snake, shackling her from going on. Everything reminds her of Yena. 

No amount of showers can take the feeling of Yena’s body going limp against hers as the life drains from her warm body, pants and screams against her ear. 

Knocks from visitors fall on deaf ears. She won’t open her door. Not for Yujin, not for Nako, not for anyone.

Not yet.

“Yuri.” A familiar voice pulls her out of her slumber. She then comes face to face with Miyeon, a soft hand on her shoulder. “Yuri, look at me.”

“M-Miyeon,” she manages to croak out.

“You’re a mess.” Her sister points out, tucking a hair behind her ear. “Didn’t you succeed in the princess’s quest? And even managed to put two criminals on the wanted list for treachery. What’s wrong?”

Succeed? Is this success? Is success supposed to crush her inside and paralyze her from going on to the world?

Is success dealing with overwhelming loss that leaves a gaping hole in her chest? The clock rings in her ears, she wishes it ticks backward.

Back to when this room is filled with color.

“You did not reply to the letter we sent you,” says Miyeon, frowning, “And then we received the news from the administration that you’ve been skipping classes. You never skip classes.”

“How did…” Yuri whispers, forcing her gaze down. “How did you get in here?”

“Master unlock from the dorm mother,” she says with a sigh, holding a card between her slender fingers. “Did you know how much trouble I have to go through just to get here? What are you doing with your life, Yuri?”

Miyeon stands up, shrugging off her cloak before hanging on the clothes-hanger by the cabinet. Left with her lavender tunic, Miyeon looks around the room with a sigh, hands planted on her hips.

“Unmade bed. Pile of laundry,” Miyeon groans, exasperated, taking the duvet from the bed, smoothening it over. “At this rate, you’re getting expelled. Do you realize that?”

“Miyeon, can you just…” Yuri says, her voice just a bit louder than a whisper. “Can you leave? I’m not in the mood.”

“Clearly not,” Miyeon says, crossing her arms. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Answer stuck in , Yuri bites the bottom of her lip, facing down. The presence of her sister, anyone, makes her want to collapse and break down.

Miyeon’s eyes soften. “Wash up and get changed. Let’s go to Juniper’s Grove, you still like the food there, don’t you?”

At the sound of the name of her favorite restaurant, Yuri can’t help but have tears spill out. This is Miyeon’s way of cheering her up, she knows. Despite her scolding, sh