01.2

The rest of the day passed in a haze. She made tea and forgot to drink it. She lay down on the couch but couldn't rest. Her fingers contracted as if they wanted to do something: text someone, reach out, fix whatever this was, but she didn't know where to start. It's not like she had anyone to talk to either.

The memory of Yves persisted. Too strange to be coincidence, too surreal to be dismissed. And underneath that... the question: What if it meant something? Something real, something about her. That thought refused to go away. And underneath all that, his words repeated in a loop in her head:

I’ll send you the details.

She couldn't completely believe it was possible that someone actually cared about her. So she kept imagining the worst outcomes. What if she collapsed in front of everyone? What if someone made a cruel joke she couldn't laugh at?

Her phone vibrated.

A message from an unknown number, but she quickly realized it was from Yves, evident by the emoticons:

9pm. Come whenever. Big house on Alder Street. Bring an appetite. 😜

She blinked at the screen, her senseless anxiety growing as she considered what to respond. Before she could even decide, another message arrived.

Oh, and you better wear something nice, Juno. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you? 😏

Juno's eyebrows rose. She stared at the screen for a long moment, feeling her cheeks blush. Disappoint him? What was he even—

The next message came quickly.

No sweat if you don’t have anything fancy, but hey, a little effort wouldn’t hurt. I’m thinking you might look pretty killer dressed up 😉.

Her mind spun. He’s joking. He has to be. But the idea of him expecting her to dress up felt... real. She bit her lip and typed, I’ll be there.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then, after a second’s hesitation, she added: I’m not wearing anything fancy though.

The response came almost instantly.

What a shame. Guess I’ll just have to admire your natural beauty then 😜. But if you change your mind, there’s still time!

She stared at the screen, heat crawling up her neck. Why does he have to make this so... complicated?

She put the phone beside her and sank into the bed. The room was quiet, except for the distant hum of a streetlight and the slow chirping of a single cricket outside her window.

She looked at the phone, twisting the edge of her shirt between her fingers.

Her face blushed slightly. She wasn't used to being the center of attention like this. Especially not when it felt like Yves was... expecting things from her. She wasn't sure whether to be irritated or nervous. And that, more than anything, bothered her.

The minutes before the party felt like an eternity.

Juno stood in front of her mirror, back straight, shoulders tense as if preparing for battle. Her pale reflection blinked back at her, eyes shadowed by her illness, collarbones pronounced under the neckline of her blouse. Still she had tried.

Her fingers had trembled applying makeup, but the result surprised her. A brown eyeliner softened her dark red eyes; a touch of blush brought life to her too-pale cheeks. Her hair, in a low and loose updo, framed her face in soft waves, the brown tips curving against white strands.

The black blouse hugged her delicately, and the matching skirt stopped mid-thigh. Something she had bought months ago but had never had the courage to wear, though it wasn't as fancy as Yves imagined.

Her phone vibrated again.

You’re not bailing, right? I’ll be waiting. Wouldn’t want to waste this outfit if you’re not showing. 😏

Juno looked at the message. She frowned, muttering under her breath, “What is wrong with you.”

Then she typed, hesitated, deleted it. Tried again. Then sent: Heading out now. Don’t get your hopes up.

Too late. Hopes are sky-high. Don’t break my heart, Juno. 💔 I’m expecting breathtaking. Maybe even applause.

She let out a sharp breath, half a scoff, half a flustered laugh, and locked her phone.

“What an idiot,” she muttered.

But she felt warm. There was a whisper of hope. She wasn't used to feeling it, and every time she did, life had a way of snatching it away from her.

Still, she lingered for a second longer, tilting her head, searching her own face.

Don't get used to this, she thought.

She grabbed a small purse and a jacket, and opened the door to the cool evening air.

The world outside was changing toward night. A breeze gently pulled at the hem of her skirt as she walked and her boots sounded softly against the pavement.

The watch was still on her mind, probably still sitting where she had left it. She wasn't sure if it would still be there or if it had really been there at any point.

She didn't want to know.

Instead, she focused on the present. Each step forward felt like walking on a tightrope across the space between who she had been all her life and who she was pretending to be tonight.

For the first time in a long time, Juno wasn't walking to a hospital or running home to bed. She wasn't a patient tonight.

She was just... going to a party.

And though each step felt like a betrayal to the isolation she had built around herself, part of her didn't hate it.

Not for now, at least.

When she arrived at the house on Alder Street, music and laughter spilled from the windows. She hesitated on the front steps, her heart beating hard.

The door opened.

Light and sound burst out, but it wasn't the noise that hit her first.

It was him.

Yves stood framed in the doorway like a character taken from a dream, or from a too-arrogant fashion magazine. He wore a long black coat, the kind that waves just in the breeze, with a collar lined in dark fake fur. Underneath, a white shirt hugged his chest, and tight black jeans. His casually styled hair caught the porch light at all the right angles.

Juno blinked. "...What the hell are you wearing?"

Yves burst into a wide smile. "Do you like it?"

She opened her mouth to retort, sharp words ready, but then she saw the smile on his face. The way his eyes practically overflowed with excitement. It was impossible to maintain the sarcasm.

She sighed, giving him a sideways look while trying to hide the smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Okay, fine. I admit it. It's... kind of cute."

Yves froze, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah," she continued, her voice a little softer than she intended. "It looks good. I can't deny it."

Yves beamed at her, the gesture spreading wider across his face. "Aha! Victory! I knew you had good taste."

She rolled her eyes, but a small part of her couldn't help feeling warm from his enthusiasm. "It's a bit extravagant, though," she added.

"I like making an impression," he said, shrugging as he stepped aside, extending his arm in a grand gesture toward the open entrance. "After you, mademoiselle."

Juno hesitated, then slipped past him into the warm glow of the party. Behind her, she heard him laugh softly.

"Come on," he murmured as she stopped at the threshold. "Let me show you off."

Juno blinked at him, taken by surprise. "Show me off?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows.

Yves shrugged, the mischievous gleam never leaving his eyes. "You look good tonight," he said with a dramatic gesture of his hand, as if he were presenting her as a prize. "And I intend to make sure everyone knows it."

She opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. She couldn't help the small, reluctant smile that tugged at her lips as she followed him inside. Despite herself, she was starting to feel a little more relaxed. Yves's confidence and complete self-assurance were strangely comforting in their own chaotic way.

The introductions blurred into one another: names, laughter and unknown faces. Juno nodded stiffly at each person, but her mind barely registered them. She could feel their curiosity; she could feel their eyes lingering on her a little longer than usual, as if they were trying to understand why Yves had brought her there.

But he didn't seem to notice, or maybe he just didn't care.

At some point, the music changed to something lively, and the room's energy transformed. People shouted, dragging others to the dance floor. Juno instinctively stepped back, but before she could slip away, Yves turned toward her.

"Oh no," she muttered.

"Shhh, just relax!" he said, grabbing her hand.

"Yves, no." She dug her heels into the floor, but he was stronger. "I don't dance."

"Now you do," he said, spinning her slightly.

She stumbled, almost falling over her own feet. Yves steadied her, laughing. "Okay, okay, maybe not like that."

She glared at him. "You think?"

Yves smiled, unperturbed. "Relax. Just move a little. Nobody's judging you."

"That's a lie," she muttered, glancing around.

Yves leaned toward her conspiratorially. "Fine. They're definitely judging you."

Juno smacked his arm.

"Ow!" He laughed, rubbing where she hit him. "There she is. See? It's not so scary."

Juno pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a smile.

He kept his grip on her wrist light, not forcing her to move, but not letting her back away either. The song was fast-paced, and Yves moved with rhythm effortlessly. Juno, on the other hand, was stiff and clumsy, painfully aware of every one of her movements.

"You're overthinking it," said Yves, watching her carefully.

Juno let out a sigh, but tried. She let herself sway a little to the beat, her movements small and hesitant. Yves nodded approvingly.

"That's it," said Yves approvingly, his hands sliding gently to her waist to guide her movements. "You're doing great."

Easier said than done, she thought. But still, she tried. Despite herself, she found herself swaying to the rhythm, her muscles slowly loosening, the tension in her body dissipating, but still feeling uncomfortable with herself.

"You're not as stiff as you think," he teased, his voice low and soft. "Actually, you're not bad at all."

Juno ducked her head slightly, trying to hide the heat in her cheeks. "Don't exaggerate," she muttered.

"I'm just saying," Yves continued with a wink, "you have talent."

Juno cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the attention. She looked away, her gaze drifting to the floor. "I don't know."

Yves laughed again and something in the sound made Juno's chest feel... different. Not in the painful and sickly way it always did. It was something warmer, something strange. She hadn't realized how long it had been since she felt something like that.

But then—

Something moved at the edge of her vision.

At the far end of the room, near the dimly lit hallway. There was the small black cat with violet eyes, watching her, waiting.

Her breath caught.

No.

No, no, no—

The warmth in her chest faded, replaced by an overwhelming sensation. A sharp and familiar pain ran through her ribs, as if something inside her was breaking. She coughed once, twice, and her vision blurred for a moment. The air became suffocating, pressing on her lungs.

Yves caught the change immediately. "Juno?" He stepped forward, concern on his face. "What's wrong?"

Juno staggered backward, breathing unevenly. Trying to steady herself, she pressed a hand against her chest with trembling fingers. The cat didn't move, just stared at her.

It was as if the room was shrinking around her and the edges of her vision were fading into a tunnel. She couldn't look away from those eyes. They weren't just watching her, but seemed to be waiting for her to make a decision. A decision she couldn't understand.

"Juno?" Yves repeated with a worried tone.

But Juno couldn't look away from the cat. She opened her mouth to speak, to say something, but her throat tightened and the words died in her mouth.

Tick, tock.

She could hear it.

The clock.

Tick, tock.

Louder.

Yves reached out instinctively, but Juno stepped back too quickly. She hadn't realized how close she was to the table and her hand crashed against something. Before she could process it—

The birthday cake toppled over, splashing its contents across the floor with a horrible, wet sound. A collective scream filled the room, followed by a heavy silence that seemed to stretch forever.

Juno's stomach sank into a void. Every eye in the room turned toward her: some looking at her with incredulity and others with annoyance. The birthday girl's face twisted, with an expression that was the perfect mixture of shock and disgust. For a brief and unbearable moment, the world seemed to close in on her.

"Oh my God," someone whispered, "she just ruined the cake."

Juno's face flushed red as a tomato. Her hands clenched into fists and she felt the tension in her chest, still aching from the suffocating weight of the cat's gaze and from the shame that pierced through her as if a thousand eyes were watching her.

The birthday girl's smile was fragile and her voice, sharp. "Yves didn't even want her here. It was your stupid idea."

Juno felt something break.

A silent and splintered crack somewhere deep, where no one could see. The same one that had cracked before and that she had sworn would never do that again.

The laughter, the tension, the heat of all those gazes on her, as if she were a bad joke about to explode, was too much. It was as if she had returned to that same place, the place where being near her always meant someone was about to laugh, leave, or look away.

But what made everything worse, what made her chest tighten, was Yves.

She had prepared for that: the smile, the jokes, the easy joke at her expense. She was sure he would laugh too, that he would align with the rest. That this whole stupid moment was just another blow he would laugh at without realizing how much it hurt.

But when she looked at him, there was no amusement. Only confusion, concern reflected. His eyebrows were furrowed, as if he didn't know what had just happened, but wanted to understand it. As if he wanted to help her.

And that destroyed her more than any laughter could.

Because he wasn't laughing. He was just looking at her. And she couldn't stand it.

No, she couldn't stand it, because everything in her whispered that he was only being kind out of pity. Because she was pathetic. She didn't deserve to be the reason someone felt like that.

She hated pity.

Yves opened his mouth, maybe to ask or to apologize, but she didn't let him finish. She couldn't allow him to say something kind when she already felt so small.

She turned around quickly. She pushed past the person closest to her and walked on. She didn't care who shouted behind her.

It didn't matter anymore, especially because she was already halfway out of this world.

Outside, Juno pressed her back against the rough trunk of a tree, while struggling to stabilize her breathing, which made her chest rise and fall. The cold night air chilled her, but she could barely notice it. Her mind was a haze of frantic thoughts that stumbled over each other in a chaotic race.

She had proven to everyone what they already thought: that she didn't belong here, that she had never belonged.

Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms as the pressure in her chest increased. It would be easier to leave, quit university, disappear before causing more damage, before hurting anyone else with her presence.

But then, a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.

"Hey."

Juno startled and her thoughts scattered when she turned to see Yves standing beside her. His expression was soft and concerned, but in his eyes was that familiar hint of discomfort, as if he didn't quite know how to approach her, though he knew he couldn't leave her alone.

"Don't worry about it," he said gently. "It's just a cake, right? Accidents happen. The party is for fun, not—"

"Yves, please."

Her voice broke as she interrupted him, quieter than she intended. The words hit harder than she expected, but they came out, raw and unfiltered.

He blinked, taken by surprise. "What?"

Juno wrapped her arms around herself, shaking slightly, but not from the cold. "You heard what she said," she murmured, looking down at the ground. "She didn't even want me there. I shouldn't have come. This was a mistake."

Yves's frown deepened, and he stepped closer as if trying to physically reduce the distance between them. "No. That's not true," he insisted. "Don't listen to her."

Juno let out a hollow laugh, but there was nothing funny about it. "Why are you trying to fix this?" She didn't look at him. "I didn't ask for your help. I'd rather you join the rest and make fun of me. It's easier that way."

Yves shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure how to handle her rawness. He rubbed the back of his neck and his usual playful demeanor faltered as he tried to gather something. "Okay, well... uh..." He hesitated, clearly searching for the right words, his voice clumsy but sincere. "I mean, everyone makes mistakes, right? It's not like anyone's going to remember the cake in a week. Besides, who cares what they think?"

"That's the problem, Yves. You don't understand. They care. They always care." She shook her head and her voice faded as her chest tightened. "And I care too much about what they think. But I shouldn't. I shouldn't have come at all."

Yves's expression softened, but his attempts to comfort were clearly not working. He gently put a hand on her arm. "Hey, come on. I get it, it's a shitty feeling, I know. But it's just one stupid moment, it doesn't define who you are."

Juno pulled away from him abruptly, breathing hard. "No," she said sharply, betraying the vulnerability she had been holding back. "Don't try to fix this. You can't. You don't even know me."

She turned around quickly, picking up her pace as she walked away. She felt her chest tight, as if the air were too thick to breathe, but she didn't know if it was because of her illness or her mental state.

Yves didn't move immediately, but she could hear him calling her name. "Juno, wait. Hey—just stop for a second."

She kept walking, picking up her pace despite the pain in her legs. There was something about him, about the way he tried to help, to fix things, even when he clearly had no idea how to do it, that made her want to tear her hair out in frustration. He didn't understand, he couldn't. She had never been the type of person who could solve her problems with a few words of comfort or a well-intentioned hand on the shoulder. And he wasn't the type of boy who would have experienced being a social outcast.

She could feel him following her, but she didn't want to turn around, didn't want to show him her weakness, her shame. She was fine alone, she had been before.

But then, his voice, softer this time, cut through the cold night air: "I'm not going to let you walk away like this."

Juno's heart skipped and, against her will, she slowed down slightly.

They walked through the streets, the city buzzing softly around them. The echoes of the party faded, replaced by the distant sounds of cars, laughter from strangers passing by, and occasional gusts of cold wind.

Finally, they reached the city's iconic clock tower. It rose above them, its massive hands marking time, counting seconds that neither of them could ever reclaim.

Juno leaned against its stone base, arms crossed over her chest. Her breath curved in the air; her eyes, fixed on the horizon. The city glowed in the distance, vibrant and alive, very different from how she felt inside.

Next to her, Yves stood with his hands in his coat pockets, tilting his head back to look at the top of the tower.

After a moment, he murmured: "Do you think I could climb that?"

Juno slowly turned her head, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"The clock tower," he said, as if it were obvious. "I'm just saying. I have long legs. Good balance."

She blinked at him. "You'd fall and die in like, twenty seconds."

He nodded as if she had confirmed a scientific theory. "Probably. But imagine the view."

Juno stared at him. "Yves."

He kicked a small stone. "What? Haven't you ever wanted to do something incredibly stupid just to prove you could?"

"I literally just ruined a birthday cake and ran from a party like an idiot," she muttered.

He paused. “Okay, so we’re both dumb, then.”

He took a small step toward her, looking at her face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, now gently, but without condescension. Rather, it seemed like he was genuinely interested in knowing if she had broken in half and was too proud to admit it.

Juno shrugged and looked back at the horizon. "Yeah. I'm just... tired."

He tilted his head, squinting, as if it were a puzzle he wasn't smart enough to solve, but was determined to keep looking until it made sense.

"Well," said Yves, scratching the back of his neck, "you just destroyed a cake and dramatically fled from a social gathering. That must burn some calories."

Juno froze. Her eyebrow twitched and she turned her head, slowly. "Really?"

Yves blinked, like a deer in headlights. "What? No—I mean, yes—but not in a bad way. I’m not making fun of you, I swear. I’m just saying… it was kind of badass? Like, in a villain origin story kind of way."

Her arms crossed tighter. "Is that supposed to be funny?"

He raised his hands, surrendering immediately. “Okay, not funny. But like—cinematic? Come on, you don’t just do that and vanish into the night without style. You’ve got... panache.”

Juno stared at him, completely blank. “Panache,” she repeated, expression unreadable.

He nodded, too quickly. “Exactly.”

A moment of silence passed as she gave him the kind of long and unimpressed look that could flatten a small town. He smiled like an idiot anyway.

Of course he tried to fill the silence and screwed up instead.

“I mean—don’t worry about it too much, okay? People suck. And, uh—hey, for what it’s worth, you were kinda... cute when you ran out.”

At first, Juno's expression didn't change, but the atmosphere between them certainly did.

She frowned.

It wasn't a dramatic frown. Just a slight downward pull of her eyebrow.

Yves blinked. “Wait—that sounded creepy. I didn’t mean—like—just when you ran out. You’re… you always look—hot—I mean, no! Not hot. I mean, yes, but—not like I stare! I don’t! I just have really big eyes and a strong sense of facial awareness—”

He visibly panicked, waving his hands as if he could physically rewind time.

“Unless… you're actually feeling hot?” he suddenly stammered. “Like, fever-hot? You were coughing earlier, maybe it’s a flare-up or... or something? I don’t know how your condition works! Is that offensive? I just—are you sick-sick right now?”

Juno said nothing, just gave him a long, unreadable look.

Yves stepped back as if her silence had physically slapped him. “Stop that! Don’t look at me like that.”

"I'm not doing anything," she said calmly.

"You're frowning."

"I'm not."

"You absolutely are. It's subtle, but it's there. You look like you just saw me kick a kitten."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, her face still visibly frowning.

Yves pointed at her face as if it had betrayed him. "There! That! That's the face! I said something stupid and now you're judging me."

Yves covered his face with both hands, visibly blushing, and let out a groan.

"Why do I keep doing this?" he muttered through his fingers, almost as if he were talking to the universe itself.

Juno's lips twitched at seeing him, and before she could stop it, a laugh escaped her, a quiet, almost reluctant sound. The kind of laugh that surprised even her.

Yves lifted his hands from his face, eyes wide as he looked at her as if he had just won a victory. "Yes! There it is. That's what I was looking for. You laugh, I win."

Juno rolled her eyes, but this time, the edge of her irritation had melted. "Whatever."

"And now that I've succeeded in my noble quest to restore your humor, it's time for the next chapter."

She narrowed her eyes. "Which is?"

He extended a hand dramatically. "Escort the princess safely to her tower. Obviously."

Juno blinked. "Princess?"

"Non-negotiable," Yves continued, ignoring her look. "There are demons out here, Juno. Monsters, ugly things with claws and weird breath. It's a nightmare."

She stared at him.

"Seriously," he added with a fake serious tone, "who believes in that demon stuff, anyway? That's like... fantasy novel level nonsense." He laughed, shaking his head. "God, I sound ridiculous."

Juno didn't respond immediately, her gaze staying on him for a moment longer. There was something disarming about his casual and silly behavior. It was refreshing. He wasn't trying to be anything more than himself: stupid, sincere, and exactly what she needed at that moment.

But—

The ticking.

It was there again. Just beneath her thoughts. A pulse she couldn't ignore.

Her heart beat to its rhythm, a constant beat she couldn't escape, and suddenly she felt as if the shadows around her were darker, as if something was moving in the corners of her vision again.

And suddenly—

Dong.

The sudden, loud toll of the bell echoed through the city.

Juno flinched; it wasn't subtle. Her entire body tensed as if the sound had detonated right behind her. Her head snapped upwards and her breath caught in her throat.

Yves blinked, eyebrows lifting. “Whoa. Easy, princess. It’s just a bell.”

Juno didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on something high above their heads.

Yves squinted. “Wait—did that actually scare you? Are you—hold on, are you jumpy right now? That’s kind of adorable.”

Still, she remained silent. The light starting to drain from her face.

“Hey…” His tone softened. “Juno?”

But she wasn't looking at him. Instead, her gaze was fixed on the roof of the clock tower. Her expression had turned pale and her mouth was set in a tight line. Her body was rigid with something beyond discomfort and fear.

Yves followed her line of sight, now feeling curious. “What are you—”

Then he saw it:

Perched on the edge of the tower's stone balcony. A cat.

But not just any cat. This one was darker than shadow, darker than the night around them. It was as if a hole had been torn through reality itself. Its fur drank in the moonlight and left nothing behind. Its eyes glowed violet: bright, unnatural and, worse still, aware.

They watched, pinning Juno in place like a moth caught in a web.

Yves's breath caught in his chest. He took a step towards her, his voice dropping. “…Juno?”

She spoke without taking her eyes off it. Her voice was quiet and broken, filled with dread.

“It’s here.”

Dong.

Juno's knees buckled under the weight of the cat's violet gaze. A burning pain ignited in her chest, sharper than ever before, as if invisible hands were crushing her ribs. She gasped as the world tilted.

It wasn't just her lungs collapsing; her heart was too. It was beating irregularly, first frantically, then faltering as if it had forgotten how to beat properly. Each uneven beat splintered through her chest until she felt as though she was cracking right down the middle.

She was dying. Her time was up.

Pressing her palm to her sternum, she felt her vision blurring at the edges as her fingers dug into her blouse. The pain radiated outwards into her arms and throat, it was too much to bear.

Yves lunged forward, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Juno! Hey—look at me. What’s wrong? Talk to me!”

She tried to speak, but only a ragged breath escaped her lips. Her body trembled as sweat and goosebumps fought for dominance across her skin.

“I… can’t…” she began, trying to speak.

Yves's brow furrowed with alarm. He moved closer, his voice rising with panic. “Breathe with me. In… out… come on, stay with me.”

Juno forced herself to comply, finding each inhalation a struggle and each exhalation rougher than the last. But the pain was relentless, tightening its grip on her heart.

Dong.

Yves looked over his shoulder and froze.

Across the street, he saw something moving in the alley. Shadows peeled away from the walls. First one, then more, sliding and reshaping themselves into impossibly tall figures. Their long, inhuman limbs bent at odd angles. Faces,or rather the lack of them, stared back with glowing eyes.

Yves squinted. “Okay, what the— What the heck is that?!”

One of the shadows tilted its head.

“Oh my god,” he yelled. “Nope. Nope! That’s a demon. That is an actual demon.” He looked wildly at her, shaking her by the shoulders. “Juno, there’s demons! Like—plural! Demons with limbs and breath and that one has way too many teeth—”

The nearest creature began to crawl toward them with a gait that was almost curious. Yves screamed.

“Nope! No thank you. Absolutely not!”

He reached down, grabbed Juno’s hand, gentler than his panic should have allowed, and hauled her to her feet. “Okay! Time to go, princess. I’m not about to let you get eaten by whatever that ugly thing is,” he said with a nervous chuckle, but the joking tone didn’t match the panic rising in his voice.

Juno stumbled forward, one hand pressed tightly against her chest and the other gripping Yves' fingers. With every other step, her legs buckled, forcing her into a half-running stumble where she nearly pitched forward onto the pavement. The burning sensation in her chest worsened and spread up her throat, but she never let go of his hand.

“This is not what I signed up for,” Yves panted as they ran. “I thought we were having a moment. I was being charming. There was banter. But now demons are real. Great!”

Dong.

“Left! Left!” Yves barked, trying to sound heroic but sounding very much like someone one bad scare away from sobbing. “I am never going to another party again!” he wheezed. “Remind me next time someone says ‘casual get-together’ to bring holy water and a bat!”

That's when they saw it.

It was standing at the mouth of the narrow side street. Enormous and looming. It was a demon unlike any they had seen before. It was black as pitch, as if carved from the void, and its misshapen body was adorned with dozens of glowing eyes. Some blinked; some didn't. One pair was fixed on them.

Yves skidded to a halt. “Oh. Oh no. No no no no.”

It leaned forward and Yves acted without thinking. He gently but urgently shoved Juno hard to one side.

“Yves—!”

“Down, princess!” he shouted, flashing a panicked grin. “I’ve got this! No—I don’t! But go!”

And then the demon moved.

Faster than something that size should. It opened, not a mouth, but something that stretched too wide—

And it swallowed him whole.

One second he was standing there with his arms spread out, trying to look brave like an idiot. The next, he was gone.

Dong

The sound was deafening now.

It wasn't just a bell; it was a countdown, a curse and a noose, tightening with each toll.

Juno clawed her way forward on trembling limbs, her skin torn by the pavement and her palms embedded with sand. Her muscles screamed with every inch she gained. Her knees were slick with blood and her breath was a ragged gasp, barely escaping her throat. The cold tore through her clothes and sank into her spine like needles, but she barely felt it.

The demon was still there. She didn't need to look to know. It pressed into her bones, her lungs and her mind. It was as if something was inside her skull, cracking it from within. It was as if her blood was flowing backwards and her insides were folding in on themselves. Reality peeled away from the creature, bending and warping until nothing made sense.

It’s getting closer.

Juno's body jerked into motion, driven by terror and instinct. Her legs screamed with each step and each breath cut her throat like glass. Her arms ached, her side hurt and her body refused to carry on. It wanted to give up and die.

But she ran anyway.

Dong.

Wind howled against her cheeks. Then the snow started; fat flakes that hit her face like little slaps, each one stinging more than it should. She could barely feel her fingers anymore.

Somewhere, deep beneath the panic, past the pain and terror, a thought broke through:

Wasn't this what she had been waiting for?

She had always thought she was running out of time. Always waiting for the end to come quietly. She had convinced herself that it wouldn't matter when it happened because she had already let everything go. Let everyone go.

Hadn't she accepted it? The emptiness, the loneliness, the inevitable silence?

So why were her feet still pounding against the pavement? Why did her chest ache like it was fighting to stay whole? Why were her hands shaking with fear and not relief?

She was supposed to be ready... but she wasn't. She was terrified.

Dong.

Her legs buckled beneath her. Pain flared through her knees as they hit the frozen pavement, but she didn't feel it. She was still drowning, her esophagus tightening every second. Her arms trembled as she tried to push herself up, but she couldn't.

The demon's presence was everywhere now, in the cracks of the concrete, in the snow that scratched her skin, in the ticking of that damned clock.

She was going to die here, so she turned onto her back and closed her eyes, and just waited for death to come.

But then—

A voice.

"I can save you, Juno."

Her body, raw and tormented by fear, went still. Her eyes cracked open.

The cat.

No longer perched on high, but sitting now, directly on her chest, its weight pressing down on her racing heart.

It tilted its head, a mockery of sympathy in its expression. Its voice curved around her ear. "You have a choice," it murmured. "One thread left to pull."

It raised a paw, placing it gently on her sternum. The touch was light as a feather, but she felt it inside her, sharp and cold, like a needle sewing through her ribs.

"I can give you more time," the cat said, its voice persuasive. "But you'll be bound to me. To the Time Devil."

She couldn't breathe. Her body screamed to crawl away, to fight, but all she could do was lie there, wide-eyed, the world collapsing inward, snowflakes falling on her face.

"You can escape death, Juno," the cat whispered. "But you'll never be free again."

Its eyes gleamed, waiting. And she knew deep in her marrow. There was no other door left to open.

One choice, one curse, one second chance.

Her lips barely moved, but the words came out.

"...I accept."

The world shattered.

She was falling. It felt like sinking through black ice into water so cold it felt like burning. The ticking of the clock exploded in her ears as she sank deeper, reality folding and buckling around her like ripples on a dark surface. And as time twisted around her—

Juno, who had never been shown mercy, never been given time, who had lived like a question mark in the margins of everyone else's story; finally, impossibly, was getting another chance.