The rain had stopped sometime in the night, leaving only the faint shimmer of water on the windows. Ren slept soundlessly upstairs in his attic room, the soft rustle of breath against pillow the only movement in the stillness.
But within…His mind stirred.
A soft hum echoed in the distance. Music, maybe. Or the sigh of the world before words were born.
He stood in a twilight realm—half memory, half imagination. Velvet skies stretched above, stitched with constellations he didn't recognize. Around him, the floor was soft and warm beneath his bare feet, as if the ground itself breathed.
He wasn't alone.
Ryuji
She appeared first, stepping out of a ripple in the air like a reflection caught in motion. She wore the same hoodie, but it had slipped off one shoulder, baring smooth skin that shimmered in the dreamlight. Her golden hair was tousled, eyes wide, but not with fear.
With need.
"Ren…" she said, walking toward him. "Do you think about me? About… this?"
She didn't say more. Didn't need to. The way she stopped just shy of touching him, fists clenched at her sides, said everything. Her breath hitched as if waiting for permission she hadn't yet given herself to ask for.
He opened his mouth to answer, but—
Yusuke
A brush of wind, the scent of paint and snow.
Yusuke stepped forward from the mist behind Ryuji, ethereal and quiet. Her kimono was looser than before, hanging open at the collar, revealing the curve of her collarbone and the soft line of her throat.
"I've dreamed of this, too," she whispered. "Of colors I cannot name… all drawn to you."
She raised her hand to his chest, fingers barely touching fabric, and yet it sent a shiver through his body.
Her voice grew even softer, almost shy. "Is it wrong… that I want to know what your skin feels like beneath my brush? That I ache to understand you with more than my eyes?"
Morgana
She arrived last, stepping lightly onto the dream-space with a grace that made no sound.
Her body was petite, but her gaze—gold and unblinking—held a fire that pierced the fog. She walked straight up to Ren, no hesitation, and pressed a hand over his heart.
"Even when I was a cat… I watched you. I wanted to be near you."
The confession wasn't small. It was everything.
She leaned close, her breath brushing his jaw. "And now that I can feel this… I can't pretend anymore. I want to be wanted back."
The Pull
The dream blurred and sharpened all at once.
They were around him now, each one a different kind of gravity:
Ryuji, trembling with restrained boldness, desperate to be touched but afraid of breaking what they had.
Yusuke, reverent and sensual, her fingers tracing poetry in the air around him, as though memorizing a sacred painting.
Morgana, fierce and fragile, clinging to the new shape of her body and the ancient shape of her feelings.
And Ren… was caught between them.
Not overwhelmed.Not lost.But awakening.
A touch here, a whisper there—his name spoken like a secret, like a sin, like a prayer.
He didn't move. He didn't need to. The dream moved for him, swaying with their breath, their need, their unspoken longing finally given voice by the dream.
Time bent. The velvet sky pulsed. Something ancient stirred in his chest.
Power. Lust. Connection. The root of it all.
The Voice
Just as the moment began to tip—into something deeper, something consuming—a voice echoed from beyond the veil:
"Your path shifts, trickster. But desire… is still a form of truth."
Velvet. Familiar. Inevitable.
Ren gasped.
Awake
He shot upright in bed.
Breathless.Sweating.Alone.
But the warmth still clung to him. The voices still echoed. His heart… wasn't ready to forget.
And downstairs… someone was making coffee. One of them. Maybe all three.
Waiting. Watching. Wondering if he'd speak of dreams, or pretend they never happened.