The dormitory was always loud after sunset.Kids whispered, fought over blankets, cried quietly, or snored like miniature dragons.But tonight felt… wrong.
Too quiet.Too still.
Rafe lay in his narrow bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. His muscles ached from training, but his mind refused to rest.
Something gnawed at him.
Mara's words from earlier.Her anger.Her fear.
"You act like nothing can hurt you."
It wasn't something a child should have to say.Not with that expression.Not with that voice.
As he exhaled slowly, trying to relax, he heard a soft sound.
Not footsteps.Not breathing.
A presence.
Someone stood beside his bed.
Rafe opened his eyes carefully.
"...Mara?"
She froze, caught like a shadow in the dark.
Moonlight slipping through the broken window revealed her form — small, tense, trembling in a way she was clearly trying to hide.
"…You're awake," she murmured.
Rafe sat up slightly.
"You're in my room at night. I assume something's wrong."
She hesitated, fingers gripping her sleeve.
"I… couldn't sleep."
Rafe blinked.
"That bad?"
She didn't answer.
Mara glanced across the room — other kids slept deeply, unaware — then looked back at him.
"Can I… stay here for a bit?"
The request was so quiet that if Rafe were any less attentive, he wouldn't have heard it.
He shifted to the side, patting the cold floor next to his bed.
"Sit."
She did.But she remained stiff, back straight, hands clenched in her lap.
Rafe studied her.
Mara never asked for help.Never showed fear.Never let herself appear small.
Except now.
"What happened?" Rafe asked gently.
Mara stared at her feet for a long time.
"The girl who left today… the one the couple adopted…"
"What about her?"
"She cried before leaving," Mara whispered. "Quietly. Quiet enough that the adults didn't notice."
Rafe nodded.He had noticed too.
"I overheard them," Mara continued. "They said they only needed one child. 'Temporary replacement,' they called her."
Rafe's eyes sharpened.
Replacement.A word used for assets.Tools.Not children.
"I know what it means," she said softly. "She won't be safe."
Rafe swallowed the bitterness climbing up his throat.
"And you started thinking it could've been me," he guessed.
Silence.
Then a tiny nod.
Rafe leaned back against the wall.
"You're worried about the wrong person."
"No," Mara said. "You think you're fine because you don't cry. But crying isn't weakness."
He raised an eyebrow."Is that so? Are you about to cry now?"
She glared at him.
"No."
"…Are you sure?"
"Yes."
A beat of silence.
"…Maybe."
She lowered her head, hiding her face behind her hair.
Rafe softened his voice.
"Mara."
She didn't lift her head.
"You're safe," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I know," she whispered, "but…"
Another silence.
Rafe waited.
"…If you had gone with them, I wouldn't know what to do."
That hit harder than any punch.
She continued, voice trembling:
"You're the only one who understands anything here. The only one who… looks at me like I matter."
Rafe blinked slowly.
This was more than trust.
More than fear.
It was the first seed of something deeper — not romantic, not yet, but something foundational.
Connection.
He slid down from his bed, sitting beside her on the cold floor. Their shoulders touched lightly.
Mara stiffened, then relaxed almost imperceptibly.
"You're not losing me," Rafe said. "Not to them. Not to anyone. I'll choose where I go."
Mara nodded, eyes still on her hands.
"And until then," Rafe added, "you're stuck with me."
Her lips twitched — almost a smile.
"Annoying," she murmured.
"You love it."
"No."
"Yes."
She sighed, long and quiet.
"I feel better now," she admitted.
"Good."
Mara leaned her head lightly against Rafe's shoulder.
"Just a moment," she whispered, barely audible. "Don't move."
Rafe didn't.
She stayed like that, small and tired and finally vulnerable, until her breathing slowed.
When he thought she might be asleep, the System chimed.
DING.Bond Progression DetectedMara: Trust → AttachmentThis connection will affect future choices and events.
Rafe exhaled quietly.
Then he leaned his head gently against hers.
Their silhouettes stayed side by side under the dim moonlight — two children who shouldn't have had to carry so much weight, but who now carried it together.
And somewhere deep inside him, something warm and dangerous stirred.
He would protect her.No matter the cost.