The scent of damp wood lingered in the air, blending with the crisp morning breeze that seeped through the gaps in the old inn. The village was still wrapped in silence, only disturbed by the gentle murmur of the river winding through the houses.
In the shared room, four beds were neatly arranged against the wooden and stone walls. Under one of the blankets, a young man slowly opened his eyes.
His irises were white—opaque, mysterious—yet they caught the dim morning light with an uncanny sharpness. Okka didn't waste time staring at the ceiling; he knew the day had begun, and he had breakfast to prepare.
He sat up smoothly, his bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. The night's warmth still clung to the room, but a faint mist drifted in through the slightly open window.
His gaze swept across the room. The others were still asleep.
Kaito, his long brown hair spilling over his pillow, was curled up under his blanket. Izuma, half-awake, peeked through barely open eyelids, while Yoru, as usual, was sprawled sideways across his bed, his spiky black hair in complete disarray.
Okka smirked slightly and approached the first bed.
He placed a hand on Kaito's shoulder and gave him a gentle shake.
"Wake up. It's time."
The younger boy groaned, rolling over with one eye barely open.
"Mmh… already?" he mumbled drowsily.
"Yes. We need to prepare breakfast."
Kaito let out a long sigh before sluggishly sitting up. Okka moved on, lightly nudging Izuma, who only mumbled something incoherent before burrowing deeper into his covers.
Then, he approached Yoru and placed a hand on his shoulder.
In an instant, Yoru shot up, his violet eyes wide open.
"I had another weird dream…" he muttered with a yawn.
"Tell us about it over breakfast. For now, let's cook."
The orphanage was an unusual place—there were no caretakers to watch over them daily. The village chief, a pragmatic man, had left them to fend for themselves, believing that if they didn't learn independence now, no one would do it for them. So, every morning, Okka naturally took on the responsibility of preparing their meals.
He made his way to the small kitchen attached to the common room. The stone walls, wooden beams, and soft creaking of the floorboards created a cozy, familiar atmosphere.
Kneeling before the hearth, he stacked a few logs inside the stone fireplace. Then, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
Instantly, a tiny ember flickered to life at his fingertips, drifting down onto the dry wood. In a heartbeat, flames blossomed, licking at the logs with a gentle, steady crackle. Warm orange light flickered across the room, chasing away the last remnants of the night.
"Still as cool as ever," Yoru commented, crouching beside him.
"It's just convenient," Okka replied with a small smile.
He stood up and retrieved the ingredients from their storage. Today's breakfast would be simple but filling: steamed rice, grilled fish, and a light miso soup.
Kaito, still half-asleep, handled rinsing the rice while Okka prepared the vegetables and fish. Izuma and Yoru, lazier than the others, remained seated, watching idly.
"You always do everything perfectly, Okka…" Izuma muttered, arms crossed.
"Because someone has to," Okka shrugged.
"One day, I'll be the one cooking!" Yoru declared confidently.
Okka smirked.
"I'm looking forward to it."
The rich aroma of grilled fish and simmering broth filled the air, adding to the warmth of the room.
Finally, they set the meal on the low wooden table at the center of the common area. The bowls of rice were arranged in a neat circle, accompanied by plates of fish and steaming bowls of miso soup.
Sitting cross-legged around the meal, Kaito picked up his chopsticks and eagerly exclaimed:
"Itadakimasu!"
"Itadakimasu," the others echoed before digging in.
Yoru took a large bite of rice, then suddenly looked up.
"Oh, right! My dream!"
Okka raised an eyebrow as he sipped his soup.
"Go on, tell us."
Yoru set down his chopsticks and gestured animatedly.
"I was on this massive mountain, completely alone. The sky was this deep violet, almost unnatural. And in front of me, there were two dragons."
Izuma arched a brow.
"Two dragons?"
"Yeah. One was enormous, covered in pure silver scales, with eyes that shone like the moon. The other was smaller but way more intense, its golden scales reflecting the sky's light."
Kaito paused mid-bite.
"Did you fight them?"
Yoru nodded.
"The golden one attacked first. I barely dodged in time, and then the silver dragon let out this roar that shook the entire mountain. I tried to fight back, but…"
He trailed off, his expression thoughtful.
"But what?" Okka asked.
"I don't know… It felt real. Like a memory instead of just a dream."
A brief silence settled over the table. The only sounds were the crackling fire and the soft clinking of chopsticks against bowls.
Okka studied Yoru carefully.
"Maybe it's a sign."
Yoru shrugged with a grin.
"Or maybe I just ate too much last night."
A round of laughter broke the tension, and breakfast continued in a lighthearted mood.
Outside, the first rays of sunlight began to paint the village rooftops in soft gold.
A new day had begun.