.....
Darkness.
For a while...
There was nothing.
No dreams.
No thoughts.
Only silence.
Then...
A faint murmur reached his ears.
Soft.
Distant.
As though countless voices were being carried by the wind.
Kyle slowly opened his eyes.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar.
He remained still.
The voices grew clearer with every passing second.
Some were speaking in hushed tones.
Some were praying.
Others...
Were quietly crying.
A familiar scent lingered in the air.
Fresh lilies.
Incense.
Polished wood.
Kyle slowly sat up.
His emerald eyes wandered across the room.
Rows of white flowers stood neatly along the walls.
Candles burned with small, unwavering flames.
Men and women dressed in black filled the hall, their voices barely louder than whispers.
Some offered quiet words of comfort.
Some simply lowered their heads.
No one noticed him.
"..."
Kyle's gaze slowly moved from one face to another.
Each one felt strangely familiar.
Relatives.
Old family friends.
Servants who had worked at the Mercer estate for as long as he could remember.
For a brief moment...
He simply watched.
Then his eyes stopped.
Near the front of the hall...
A young boy stood silently.
He couldn't have been older than twelve.
The black suit he wore was just a little too large for him, the sleeves covering part of his hands.
He stood with his arms resting quietly at his sides.
Neither crying.
Nor speaking.
He simply stared ahead.
Kyle's footsteps came to a halt.
"..."
His eyes remained fixed on the child.
A faint smile, touched by quiet nostalgia, appeared on his face.
"...Me."
The word escaped almost as a whisper.
He remembered.
Not just the place.
Not just the people.
This day.
He remembered this day.
The hall remained quiet.
Only the soft murmur of voices echoed through the room.
Kyle slowly walked forward.
His footsteps made no sound.
He stopped beside the child.
Close enough to reach out.
Close enough to remember.
Yet...
There was nothing he could do.
The boy never looked at him.
His eyes remained fixed on the people gathered ahead.
His expression was calm.
Almost too calm.
As though he had already accepted what had happened.
Or perhaps...
He simply hadn't understood it yet.
Kyle lowered his gaze.
He knew that look.
Because once...
It had been his own.
...
He had always believed that the child standing before him had accepted it.
Looking back now...
He realized he hadn't.
He simply hadn't understood it yet.
The hall remained wrapped in silence.
Only the quiet murmur of voices drifted through the air.
Then...
Someone slowly approached the boy.
One of his older cousins.
He rested a gentle hand on the child's shoulder.
The boy finally looked up.
The older boy offered a small smile.
"I'm here."
That was all he said.
Then...
He quietly pulled the child into his arms.
The embrace wasn't tight.
Nor was it meant to chase the grief away.
It simply reminded him...
That he wasn't alone.
The child remained still.
His arms never moved.
He didn't cry.
He didn't speak.
He simply stood there.
A few moments later...
The embrace ended.
The older cousin gently patted his shoulder before walking away.
The boy watched him leave.
A strange feeling settled over him.
Something cold touched his cheek.
He instinctively raised a hand.
His fingers came away wet.
He stared at them.
Another drop followed.
Then another.
His eyes slowly widened.
"...I'm..."
His voice barely escaped his lips.
"...crying?"
He hadn't even noticed.
Kyle stood silently beside him.
"..."
The child wasn't pretending to be brave.
He simply hadn't realized he was crying.
A faint smile appeared on Kyle's face.
Not one of happiness.
Nor regret.
Just understanding.
"...You thought you were alright."
He wished...
More than anything...
That he could tell the child beside him...
"It's okay to cry."
But memories never changed.
No matter how many times you returned to them.
Before he could think of anything else...
Something warm rolled slowly down his own cheek.
Kyle froze.
His hand instinctively rose to his face.
"..."
A tear.
He looked at the moisture resting on his fingertips.
For a long moment...
He simply stared at it.
Then...
A small smile appeared.
One he couldn't quite explain.
For twelve years...
He had believed this memory belonged to a child.
Only now did he realize...
A part of him had never truly left this hall.
The quiet murmurs gradually faded.
Conversations came to an end.
One by one...
Every pair of eyes turned toward the front.
Kyle followed their gaze.
William stood there.
His suit was immaculate.
His posture remained as straight as ever.
Only his eyes betrayed the exhaustion of a man who had not slept.
He slowly looked across the room.
For a brief moment...
His gaze rested on the coffin.
His lips parted.
"I spent my whole life believing..."
He stopped.
His fingers tightened ever so slightly.
"...that if I worked hard enough..."
"...I could protect the people I loved."
Silence filled the hall.
A bitter smile crossed his face.
"I was wrong."
No one spoke.
No one moved.
William slowly lifted his head.
His eyes found the young Kyle standing quietly among the crowd.
"The world is unfair sometimes, son."
His voice was calm.
"It always has been."
A brief silence followed.
"...Not because people deserve it."
"But because it's our choice whether we become unfair in return."
His gaze never left his son.
"There will be days when life takes something precious from you."
"I wish I could tell you why."
"...But I can't."
Another quiet silence settled over the hall.
"So don't let your pain become someone else's."
"No matter how much it hurts..."
"...don't lose your kindness."
Young Kyle quietly looked at his father.
He didn't fully understand those words.
Not then.
But years later...
Standing in the very same hall once more...
Kyle finally did.
...
The hall slowly faded away.
The voices.
The flowers.
The lingering scent of incense.
Everything dissolved into darkness once more.
"..."
Kyle waited.
Perhaps...
This time he would finally wake up.
Instead...
A familiar room slowly came into view.
Moonlight slipped through the half-open curtains, casting pale streaks across the wooden floor.
The room was quiet.
Peaceful.
His gaze slowly drifted toward the bed.
A small child lay asleep beneath a thick blanket.
Curled against an elderly woman.
"...Grandma."
The words escaped almost instinctively.
She held the child close even in her sleep.
One arm wrapped protectively around him.
As though she feared that if she loosened her grip...
She might lose him too.
Kyle quietly watched the two of them.
He remembered this room.
He remembered this night.
This was the first night after the funeral.
The night his grandmother refused to let him sleep alone.
Back then...
He had thought she was only worried about him.
Now...
He understood.
She had lost her daughter.
Yet somehow...
She still found the strength to comfort her grandson.
A faint smile appeared on Kyle's face.
"...You were hurting too."
His eyes slowly wandered across the room.
His father.
His grandmother.
Everyone.
Back then...
He had believed they were all strong.
Looking back now...
He realized they had simply chosen to be strong.
For him.
His gaze shifted toward the chair beside the bed.
A woman sat quietly beneath the warm glow of a bedside lamp.
A book rested open in her hands.
Though...
It had been several minutes since she had turned the page.
"...Aunt Maye."
She looked no different from how he remembered.
Her posture remained elegant.
Her expression calm.
Composed.
If someone had entered the room at that moment...
They would have thought she was simply reading.
Kyle smiled faintly.
"You and Mom argued over the smallest things..."
He quietly chuckled.
"...Yet you were always laughing together by the end of it."
His smile gradually faded.
Thinking back...
It was around this time that Maye began changing.
She had always appeared reserved in front of others.
Difficult to read.
Almost cold.
But never with family.
Not until...
After this day.
"...So this is where it began."
A soft sigh escaped him.
"You've never been as cold as everyone thinks..."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"...Have you, Aunt?"
As though responding to him...
Maye slowly lowered her head.
A single tear landed upon the open page.
Then another.
She quickly raised a hand, wiping them away before they could fall again.
No sobs.
No trembling shoulders.
Only silent tears.
Kyle stood frozen.
"..."
He had never known.
In every memory he carried...
Maye had been the one comforting Grandma.
The one who held him close.
The one telling everyone that everything would be alright.
He had never once wondered...
Who comforted her.
"..."
Humans really are complicated.
Adults even more so.
They carry their grief where children can't see it.
So that the children don't have to.
Kyle slowly stepped closer.
He reached out instinctively...
His hand passing through her shoulder without resistance.
"..."
A quiet smile found its way onto his face.
"I know."
He gently rested his hand where her shoulder should have been.
"You don't have to pretend anymore."
Maye never reacted.
The room remained as silent as ever.
Yet somehow...
Kyle felt as though she had heard him.
Kyle looked around.
He had seen enough.
Or perhaps...
The memory had decided it was enough.
Darkness slowly swallowed the room.
The bed disappeared.
The walls dissolved into nothingness.
The silence returned.
...
Then...
A warm breeze brushed against his face.
Birds chirped somewhere nearby.
The scent of fresh flowers replaced the lingering smell of incense.
Kyle slowly opened his eyes.
Before him...
A woman stood beneath the shade of a large tree.
Her silver hair danced gently with the wind.
She smiled.
"Kyle."
Kyle's breathing stopped.
"..."
He would recognize that voice...
Even if an eternity had passed.