Two months. That's how long it took for my body to remember how to walk without feeling like glass.
The hospital doors had been a sort of prison—clean, white, silent. But now, here I was, standing in front of my house. My home. My legs wobbled slightly under my own weight, but the cold wind helped. It stung my skin and told me I was still alive.
When the door opened, I half-expected silence. Maybe an awkward "welcome back" or Dad's stiff half-smile.
But Lyra came flying down the stairs like a missile.
"DANIEL!"
She crashed into me. Her arms wrapped around my waist too tight, and I winced—but I didn't stop her. Not this time.
"You're hugging me?" I murmured.
"Shut up, loser," she mumbled into my chest. "I didn't think you were gonna make it."
I almost laughed. Almost. My throat tightened instead.
Behind her, I spotted Pheno awkwardly poking his head from behind the corner. The little gremlin's ears twitched like radar dishes.
"Come here, bud," I whispered.
Pheno trotted over on those stubby legs and sniffed my shoes like he was verifying I was real. Then he yawned, sneezed, and proceeded to lick my bandaged hand with the kind of reverence reserved for chicken bones.
I knelt—barely managing to keep balance—and ruffled his head.
"Missed you, too."
Lyra sniffled once more, wiped her face on her sleeve, then shoved me away.
"I'm still mad at you, though."
"For what?"
"You scared the hell outta me, idiot!"
I smiled. A real one, the kind that hurt more than it healed.
"Thanks," I said. "For being mad."
We went inside. The house smelled like burnt rice and lavender detergent—exactly how I remembered it. I limped over to the couch and dropped onto it with the grace of a wounded potato sack.
That's when Dad walked in.
He was wearing his work shirt, half-untucked, and holding a glass of water. His eyes landed on me, and he froze.
No words. No dramatics. Just a long, slow walk toward me.
He sat beside me like he was still afraid I might break. Then he placed the glass on the table and said:
"You look... taller."
I blinked. "What?"
He smiled softly. "Must've been the hospital food."
I snorted. "They fed me glue and regret."
"Sounds about right."
There was a long silence. Not the uncomfortable kind. The kind where two people are trying to say too many things at once but their mouths won't cooperate.
Then he said it.
"You know... I always told myself that if something ever happened to you, I'd be strong. For Lyra. For myself. But—when Sunny called and said you were in an accident... that your legs—"
He didn't finish. His hand was trembling.
"Hey," I interrupted. "I'm here, Dad. I made it."
He looked at me. Just looked.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
I frowned. "For what?"
"I should've been there. You've been walking around with bruises for years. I thought you were just... clumsy."
"Maybe I was," I said. "Clumsy enough to think I could handle everything."
"I'm proud of you," he said. His voice cracked like dry earth. "Even if you lied about the car accident."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"I know it wasn't a car. But I figured... if you weren't ready to tell me, then I wasn't ready to ask."
Silence again. This time, it wrapped around the room like a blanket.
"Thanks, Dad."
"For what?"
"For pretending not to know."
We sat there for a while. Pheno fell asleep with his head on my foot like a sock. Sunny eventually joined us, tossing me a can of soda and claiming it was "medicinal." I didn't argue.
[The Next Morning]
I hadn't worn my uniform in so long it still had a faint smell of mothballs. My tie was crooked. My shirt wouldn't button right. But I looked like a student again, and that was enough.
"Don't faint in class," Sunny said while handing me my bag.
"No promises," I muttered.
As I stepped outside, the morning sun hit my face. The world looked different now—like someone had turned down the contrast. Softer. Slower.
School was both exactly the same and completely alien. Same peeling walls. Same half-broken chairs. But when I walked in through the gate, something shifted.
Teachers noticed me.
A few nodded.
Some smiled.
Weird.
The classroom hadn't changed at all. My seat was still near the back—window side. The sun was bright today, pouring light onto the desk like it missed me or something.
Then I heard it.
A voice, calm and cool like iced tea.
"Yo."
I turned. There he was—Isac. Leaning on the chair next to mine like nothing ever happened. White hair still messy, shirt untucked, eyes unreadable.
"You survived," he added with a casual grin.
"Uh... yeah?"
He pulled the chair beside mine and sat down without permission, stretching his legs like he owned the place.
I stared at him.
He grinned. "What? Never seen someone this handsome this early in the morning?"
I snorted, unsure why I was laughing.
The truth was—I didn't remember much about that night. Just flashes. Blood. Screams. Fear. And then... nothing.
I had no idea he was the one who saved me.
[Later That Day]
Finals were closing in, which meant fake stress and real exhaustion. School ended with a groan and a half-hearted bell. Isac and I walked out of the gate like two tired ghosts.
"Wanna go bother Sunny?" I asked.
"Sure," Isac said.
He didn't ask why. He didn't even look surprised.
We reached the studio-slash-office place Sunny worked at now. It looked fancier than I expected. All glass, plants, and people pretending they were busier than they were.
I pulled out my phone and called him.
"Come outside."
No response. But thirty seconds later, the front doors burst open and Sunny ran out, still in a half-buttoned shirt and makeup on his face. He skidded to a stop in front of me.
"You okay?" he asked, slightly breathless.
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine. Why were you sprinting?"
"You called."
That caught me off guard.
Before I could answer, four other people came rushing out behind him—two guys, two girls, all tall, perfectly styled, effortlessly intimidating.
"Oh my god, Sunny, who made you run like that?" one of the girls asked.
Sunny turned and gestured to us. "This is Daniel. He's my... friend. And that's Isac. He's... also my friend."
The taller guy with curly blond hair stared at Isac for a long moment. "Damn. You're like... handsome and pretty. That's unfair."
"Unreal," muttered the other girl—Raven, if I caught it right.
They looked at me, then at each other, then awkwardly said, "Hey," in my direction like they were doing me a favor.
I nodded back. "Hi." Models, huh. Always kind of arrogant.
But then something strange happened.
Sunny smiled.
Like, actually smiled—soft and stupid and real—while talking to me about something dumb Isac said on the way.
The four of them blinked like they'd just seen a unicorn sing.
"You're smiling?" Veronica said. "You never smile."
Sunny blinked. "I don't?"
They all exchanged glances. Jobe even looked mildly offended.
"Jackson's coming," someone muttered, and sure enough, the slick-haired businessman appeared from nowhere.
When he saw Isac, his whole face lit up like someone had just dropped gold bars on the floor.
"YOU!" Jackson pointed. "Are you interested in modeling?"
"No," Isac replied.
"We pay very well. Very, very well—"
"That's my daily wage," Isac said dryly.
Jackson's smile cracked like glass. "Wait... daily?"
Isac nodded once.
And that was that.
[Back at Home]
Pheno greeted us like we were an invading army. She charged at Isac, sniffed his shoes, barked once, then spun in three confused circles before trying to crawl into his backpack.
"Stop," Isac said.
Pheno did not stop. Instead, she yawned and flopped down on his foot like he was just an oddly shaped pillow.
Daniel and Sunny laughed.
"I think she likes you," I said.
Isac didn't answer. He just gave me a look that said this is not over.
Pheno sneezed on his leg.
He looked at the sky in quiet defeat.
And for a second, just a second, everything felt almost normal again.