Rayve did not believe in weather forecasts.

Once, it promised a sunny weekend, ideal for flower gazing and picnics. A younger Hayle and Rayve had been looking forward to it. Their mentor planned an outing for them as a treat after an entire week of training. When the time came, thunder crashed and lightning flashed. The torrential rain washed all the flowers away, and Hayle was miserable for the rest of the following week. Another time, it predicted hail, and Rayve had to put off his Hunting plans and stayed indoors for the rest of the day at Hayle’s insistence, and he waited and waited for the hail that never came.

Today, it predicted rain in the evening. It was a clear fall day with not a hint of rainclouds. Hayle was down with a cold, sneezing since he woke up and using up the entire box of tissues within half a day. Rayve was on the way back from the pharmacy to buy some medicine when it began to pour, soaking him from head to toe in seconds.

Curses. He ran the last half mile back to their temporary rental house, stopping under the balcony to shake water droplets off his hair and clothes before heading in.

Hayle gave him a dismayed greeting, lamenting that Rayve was next in the line to get a cold, and insisted that he take a shower before doing anything else.

By the time Rayve got out of the shower, Hayle had taken his medicine and tucked himself into bed.

Rayve sighed. Hayle was always trying not to make him worry. Yet, he made Rayve worry all the time.

Their master was away for the entire month. He had the tendency to vanish now and then, leaving them instructions for their next assignments via text or phone calls. He also liked moving on a whim. Now, he was renting them a townhouse in the middle of an unassuming town with easy access to whatever facilities they needed, promising them a proper home by spring.

Rayve didn’t mind not having a proper place to stay. After all, he was used to living in poverty for a long time. As long as Hayle was fine, he was too.

Their bedroom was on the first floor, a simple, plain space with wood finishing and barely any furnishing. Just two beds, a closet, and a window overlooking the street. The orange streetlamp directly outside peered in, benevolently offering its illumination over the floorboards.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

He went to check on Hayle, reaching out to touch his forehead. Luckily, no temperature.

“You don’t have to worry so much, you know. I’m not a kid anymore.” Hayle’s head-cold voice came from beneath the blankets.

Rayve did not expect him to be awake. “I know.”

Hayle turned over so that he was looking at Rayve. “You should start taking better care of yourself too.”

“I know.”

He knew Hayle knew he did not really mean what he said. To be honest, Rayve had no idea what he meant either.

Hayle’s eyes were earnest. “I want to be of use to you and the master, not a burden.”

Rayve knew Hayle did not like being dependable, and he knew sooner or later, he could no longer stop Hayle from doing what he wanted to do.

But there was just one thing. Something he had to do for Hayle. And he thought Hayle would want it too.

“Are you listening? Rayve?”

Rayve gave a start. Hayle was waving his hand in front of his face.

“What’s wrong? You were staring into space. Is something bothering you?”

Tactful Hayle always realized if Rayve was troubled; he would feel the same, and it would be reflected on his face.

“It’s nothing,” Rayve shifted. “I’m just thinking about the calculus question this afternoon.”

Hayle wasn’t gullible; he was just easily distracted.

“Oh, no,” Hayle groaned, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “Did the teacher cover a difficult topic today? Man, I suck at math. Now I’ll have to catch up.”

Rayve was lying. Hayle was right – he was bothered. He glanced out of the window – the rain had subsided into a drizzle. The streetlamp winked at him through the glass, drenched in solitude.

“Have you…” Rayve began. “Have you, by chance, felt strange or different recently?”

“If you mean the cold, yes. My eyes and nose can’t stop itching, and my throat is sore-”

“No, I don’t mean that. I mean-” He stopped himself. “Never mind.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing, idiot,” Rayve said with an edge of affection. “Just go to sleep.”

The medicine must have made him drowsy because Hayle obliged.

Rayve sat by the edge of the bed for a long time after his brother dozed off.

Whatever you’re doing right now, you’d better stop before it’s too late.

Rin Elziel’s words echoed in his ears. It shouldn’t have bothered him that much, yet it did. After all, what did she know?

It was just… Sometimes, he found Hayle looking rather out of sorts when he was alone –staring at the wall, wandering around aimlessly –

Rayve stood up, switched off the lights, and climbed into his own bed.

It was just a coincidence, right?

Somehow, he couldn’t fully convince himself that he was overthinking, and the question bugged him all the way to sleep.

When he woke up to the cold dawn the next morning, the first thing he saw was an empty bed with the blankets thrown off.

Hayle was gone.