Mal awoke slowly, the world around him still wrapped in a thick haze of sleep. It felt like he’d been drifting in and out of dreams for an eternity. Glancing at the clock, his heart sank. Twelve hours. He had slept for a full twelve hours, all through his alarms and any hopes of attending classes.

Panic bubbled in his chest as he sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist. “No, no, no,” he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Memories of the banner for Nezami flashed through his mind, and he hoped against hope that everything had checked out.

With a sense of urgency, he fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, half-expecting a flood of missed notifications.

Momo: Dude, I didn’t wait for you. Knew you’d be out cold, so I’ll grab whatever you need from school. Also, I’ll tell everyone you were gonna sleep all day. Talked to Aurora, and she said if they needed you, she’d wake you up. Be easy, homie.

Mal let out a long breath.

Momo was one of the best friends you could have.

He quickly shot a response back.

Mal: Thanks, man. Sorry, I overslept. You’re the best homie foreal!

He threw his phone onto the bed hurried to his feet, and moved to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, trying to shake off the lingering fog.

As he stared into the mirror, Mal struggled to recognize the tired face looking back at him.

He felt like a walking disaster. After brushing his teeth and running a hand through his disheveled hair, he quickly threw on some comfortable clothes that were still presentable.

Did she like it? What if all my hard work was for nothing?

A wave of disappointment washed over him as he remembered she hadn’t messaged him.

Should I assume she hated it? Or maybe they found another solution?

He couldn’t shake the bummed feeling creeping in. Standing there, staring at his reflection, he debated whether to reach out and check-in.

But what if she didn’t text because she didn’t want to admit she didn’t like it? We had such a nice moment last night.

Mal spent the day in the seemingly empty apartment, the quiet pressing in on him like a weight. The soft whirr of the fridge and the occasional groan of the old wooden floorboards were the only sounds that punctuated the oppressive silence. Each noise seemed to sharpen the edge of his anxiety, drawing his attention back to the storm in his head. He moved restlessly from room to room, the space that usually felt familiar and safe now seemed alien, almost suffocating.

The expo was in just a few hours, starting around five and running until at least eight. Should he go? Should he even show up? His mind tossed the question around, amplifying his restlessness. On one hand, he’d worked hard on that banner for Nezami—she had liked it last night, he reminded himself. But the lack of a message from her today gnawed at him. Maybe she wasn’t impressed after all, or worse, maybe she was avoiding him. He had no idea what was going through her mind, and that uncertainty was eating him alive.

As the hours dragged on, his thoughts spiraled further into chaos. Intrusive questions ran rampant, creating a chaotic marathon of self-doubt. What if she hated the design? What if his attempt to help had somehow embarrassed her?

His phone buzzed several times, but each time, the notification wasn’t from her. Every non-Nezami text sent his heart sinking deeper into his chest.

Should I message her?The thought gnawed at him relentlessly. He checked his phone several times, fingers hovering over her name, but always stopped short of sending a message. The fear of seeming too eager, of imposing on her space, held him back. What if she was just busy? Maybe her silence was nothing to worry about.

As the expo time inched closer, he found himself staring at the clock. Couple more hours…

He wondered if it was worth going if showing up uninvited would be awkward. But the thought of missing it entirely didn’t sit right with him either.

Just make a quick appearance. It’s casual, no pressure. If she hadn’t messaged him, then maybe everything was fine. Maybe she was just preoccupied.

He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. He'd go toward the end—slip in, see if she needed anything, make a quick appearance, and leave. No harm in that. Worse still, looming over everything was the shadow of the upcoming confrontation with the Baroness. The mere thought of her tower dredged up memories that felt too raw, too vivid to ignore. He could still feel the icy chill of the place, the heavy, oppressive air that clung to him like a second skin. The nightmares he'd faced within her domain still haunted him—dark, twisted visions that clawed at his sanity. Children, pale and gaunt, their faces distorted in anguish, had wandered the shadowy halls, their cries piercing the silence like broken glass. Their suffering suffocated him with their despair. He had seen their small hands reach out, begging for help, but the darkness swallowed them before he could even move.

Every night since then it seemed, he had heard their voices in his sleep—whispers of agony and fear, pulling him back into that dark place. He had sworn he would never face that again, never let himself be dragged into the Baroness's nightmare. But now, the full moon was approaching, and with it, the need to confront her once more. The weight of that promise clung to him, as heavy as the silence in the apartment.

As the hours ticked by, the city outside grew dim, casting its dark shapes across the walls. Mal stared out the window, the distant hum of life below barely reaching him.

I can’t keep doing this,

Gnawing at him like a festering wound. He had fought so hard to pull himself out of the horrors he had witnessed, yet here he was, preparing to dive headfirst back into the abyss.

But it wasn’t just the Baroness. It was everything—his mounting insecurities, the pressure of his responsibilities, and the fear that no matter what he did, it wouldn’t be enough. Not for Nezami, not for his sisters, not for anyone.

Finally, just as he was about to throw in the towel and enter into a full-blown panic attack, his phone buzzed.

It was Momo.

“Dude!” Momo’s voice crackled through the line, bright and energized. “Everyone loved the banner! They’re all raving about it!”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Mal felt his heart leap, “Really? Are you serious?”

“Yeah! Nezami’s been insane with all the preparations, but she said to tell you ‘Thanks.’ She wants to do it in person when she gets a chance.” Momo paused, teasingly. “So what’s up with that?”

Mal couldn’t help but grin, the weight on his chest lightening. “That’s... that’s awesome!”

But then he hesitated.

“But why not just message me herself?”

Mal leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Damn, you already got her number? I knew you were still in there,” he teased.

Mal laughed. “Of course I am!”

Momo chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I’m looking for a relationship or anything. It’s just… I want her to appreciate the work, you know? It felt like everything was riding on this for her.” Mal’s voice trailed off, his earlier anxiety creeping back in.

“Dude, chill,” Momo said, a reassuring tone in his voice. “She noticed. She said thanks! That means she cares, even if she’s too busy to reach out directly. And hey, she’s got a lot on her plate. Cut her some slack.”

Mal nodded, appreciating Momo’s optimism.

“I guess you’re right. It just feels like so much is hanging in the balance, wanting to impress her. I don’t know, it’s like my brain is constantly racing.”

“I get it. But you’ve got to take a step back sometimes. You’re battling demons—so don’t sweat the small stuff. Focus on what matters.”

“Battling demons figuratively and literally, but you’re right,”

“You’ve got the whole squad behind you,” Momo said with enthusiasm.

“Thanks, man,” Mal said, feeling buoyed by his friend’s support. “I really needed that. You always know how to bring me back down to Earth.”

“Anytime! Now, go get your battle face on. I’ll catch you later!” Momo hung up, and Mal couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of determination.

“With the Baroness looming on the horizon and the nightmares of the past swirling around, I know I can’t afford to let trivial worries cloud my focus.” He said taking a deep breath.

He was thankful he was for Momo’s call. He didn’t need the little things bubbling up right now—he couldn’t afford to be selfish with his worries about impressing a girl while a SinShi, or something worse, could be lurking in the special town of theirs...

He rubbed his temples, a futile attempt to ease the tension, and then he sighed heavily.

Maybe it was time to take a moment and just rest.

He turned toward the stairs, and made his way up, a part of him hesitated, guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind.

Shouldn’t I be doing something? Training or learning something?

But another part, the weary part, pushed back against that nagging voice.

It’s okay to sleep. You’ve worked hard, and you’ve been present. Some days, you just have to allow yourself the rest.

He walked to his room and sank onto the bed. As he lay there, he wrestled with the urge to keep pushing forward.

I can’t waste any moments, he thought, the countless tasks still ahead.

If I don’t keep working, I’ll regret it.

But deep down, he knew that pushing himself to the brink wouldn’t help anyone.

“Just go rest. It’s okay, man. Give yourself some self-care.” He told himself out loud.

With that thought, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink into the mattress, he curled up close to the wall tucking his excess pillows behind him as he faced the wall nooked in as best he could.

PG.12A

Dammit.

When he woke up, the room was dark. For a moment, he lay there, disoriented, unsure of how long he’d been asleep. Panic quickly set in as he fumbled for his phone, squinting at the screen—8:15 p.m. His heart sank. The expo had started hours ago, and he had completely missed it.

Frustration bubbled up as he sat up, staring at his phone. A few missed messages blinked up at him. Momo and Enrique had sent him some earlier.

Momo: "Yo, you coming? This thing’s actually pretty solid!"

Enrique: "Where you at, man? Nezami's banner looks dope. Seriously, people are loving it."

He groaned, feeling the guilt settle in his stomach. He had really meant to go. Now it was too late. Any chance to see how Nezami reacted to the banner or to feel like a part of the moment had slipped away.

He scrolled through his messages, considering sending a quick reply to his friends, but then his phone buzzed with a new notification. His heart skipped a beat when he saw it was from Nezami.

The message was simple—a photo. Mal clicked it open to see the banner he had worked on, hanging proudly above the crowd at the expo. His eyes scanned over the details, taking in the fact that his work had been front and center, even though he hadn’t been there to see it in person.

Right below the photo, she had sent a single heart emoji.

Mal stared at the screen for a long moment, his frustration melting into something else. He smiled, shaking his head. Even though he had overslept and missed the event, she had still thought of him—had still sent him that small, meaningful gesture.

Maybe it wasn’t such a disaster after all.

His heart sank slightly when upon entering the kitchen and all four of his sisters and Harper were sitting at the bar, engaged in hushed conversation.

“Good morning!” they chimed, their cheerful tones almost too bright considering it was evening and they were being snarky in unison. It was impressive, to be honest.

“Please tell me there’s not more” Mal said, eyeing them warily.

Aurora shrugged, a teasing smile on her face. “No, we’re just talking about something completely different.”

“Do I even want to know?” Mal sensing their secretive air.

“Even if you did, we’re not gonna tell you. Did you sleep?”Sumi responded.

“I did twice actually,”

Harper stepped forward, a warm smile lighting up her face as she offered him a small plate adorned with a homemade cinnamon roll, its sugary glaze glistening. “It’s fresh out of the oven!” she announced proudly, as the enticing aroma enveloped Mal.

“Thanks,” he replied, taking the plate but casting suspicious glances at his sisters, who were sharing a secretive grin. Their delight felt almost mischievous, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was afoot.

“I’m heading back up to game with the crew,” he said, raising an eyebrow at them. “Please don’t hit me with anything until at least tomorrow after school.”

As he made his way out of the kitchen, Sumi couldn’t contain her smirk.

“You know, it sounds a little morbid to throw a party before he goes into the tower in case he dies.”

Aurora shot her a disapproving look, hands on her hips. “We’re not doing that! We’re trying to give him a boost of confidence before he goes. You know, some encouragement to face whatever lies ahead.”

Sumi rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘you got this’ like a last meal, right?”

“Let’s just support him, okay? He’s going to need it more than ever.” Elara said shaking her head.

“Yeah, but he’s going to think we’re throwing a party because he might die.” Riko added.

“He’s paranoid and dramatic, but I don’t think he’ll think that at all.”

“Seriously, it’s just a birthday party,” Sumi insisted, leaning forward. “He deserves a good send-off, regardless of what’s coming.”

“Exactly,” Aurora agreed. “We just want him to feel supported. A little fun before the storm, right?”

“Maybe we could theme it,” Riko suggested, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Something like ‘Surviving the Tower.’”

“Or ‘Last Night of Freedom!’” Sumi added with a giggle.

Harper smiled, shaking her head. “You all are terrible! But I love it. This is exactly what he needs.”

“Right?” Aurora said, glancing around at her sisters. “But we need to answer the most important question first…is it a costume party?”

“Yes but it needs a theme for sure, we don’t just want a regular costume party. People love to be told what style to wear!” Sumi said.

Harper now standing at the fridge looks at Sumi while shutting the door.

“Say hoe….” She says.

“Can I ask you a question!!” Sumi cheered. “Yes 80’s hip-hop theme, Harpy you a genius.”

“I know our Mally.”

Mal sitting down at his desk felt a strange sense of glee emanating from the floor below…

“What the hell are those witches up to?”