Ethan wasn’t walking into school — he was drifting.Reality felt thin. Like he was half-dreaming, half-awake, and none of it was comfortable.

  The hallway lights stabbed his eyes. Voices blurred together. The floor felt slightly… floaty. People turned their heads as he walked by — some curious, some concerned, some whispering.

  He didn’t even have the energy to care.

  He clutched the neckce under his colr like a lifeline.One more day.Just one more day as Eri.Then he’d figure out the rest ter. Somehow.

  A yawn ripped through him, so huge he nearly toppled forward mid-stride.

  Stay awake.Stay awake.Stay awake.

  His feet scraped instead of stepping. He blinked repeatedly, rubbing his eyes between every three steps like that would help anything.

  Homeroom

  He dropped into his seat and immediately slumped forward, forehead nding on the desk with a dull thunk.

  “...Ethan? You okay?” a cssmate whispered.

  Thumbs-up.Mostly because lifting his head wasn’t happening.

  His teacher walked in. “Alright everyone, take out your notebooks—”

  Ethan jerked his head up. Too fast.

  White spots exploded in his vision. The room tilted.For a second, he wasn’t sure if he was upright, sideways, or floating away entirely.

  “Ethan?” the teacher’s voice sharpened. “You look—”

  “I’m fine,” he mumbled.

  His eyes tried to close again. His body wanted to sleep. Needed it. Desperately. The neckce hummed faintly with warmth — or maybe that was just his exhaustion hallucinating.

  Eri wouldn’t give up, he told himself hazily.Eri would keep going.

  Pen. Notebook. Try to write.

  His hand slid across the paper, slowly scrawling something that looked more like ancient runes than English.

  He blinked.

  His writing… had turned into… little hearts and flowers?

  Wait.No.He actually scribbled hearts and flowers.

  Oh no.

  He dropped his pen. His breathing stuttered. Panic tried to form — but even panic was too tired to get up.

  Second Period — The Near Crash

  Walking between csses felt like wading through wet cement.

  Someone called his name down the hall — he didn’t register who.Someone asked if he pulled an all-nighter — he barely grunted.

  He made it into css, sat down…

  And his head immediately sagged forward.

  The world softened. Warm. Safe. Quiet.Just a second… just one second…

  His eyes drifted shut.

  His body tipped sideways.

  And his forehead smmed into the desk again with a loud THUD, nearly sending him sliding to the floor.

  Gasps. Chairs scraping.

  “Ethan!”

  Hands grabbed his shoulders, steadying him before he toppled completely.

  He blinked blearily, stared at the floor that was WAY too close, then slowly, sluggishly pushed back upright like a puppet with tangled strings.

  “I’m awake,” he croaked.

  “You were not awake!” the girl next to him hissed.

  “…I’m awake now.”

  His teacher stared at him with concern — and a bit of arm.“You look like you’re about to pass out. Do you need the nurse?”

  He shook his head. Mistake. His vision swam again.

  “No. I just… uh… allergy season.”

  Everyone looked at him.

  No one believed him.

  Someone in the back whispered, “Dude looks like he fought a wind god and lost.”

  And honestly? Same.

  He muscled through the rest of the period by sheer stubborn spite — and the terror of accidentally turning back into Eri in the hallway if he fell asleep.

  Every second was a fight.

  But he stayed conscious.

  Barely.

  If someone asked him what the lesson was about, though?He would confidently answer: dream soup.

  He had no idea what that meant.But it felt right.