The cell was silent, except for the faint flickering glow beyond the bars.
He noticed it before he saw her. A soft, golden light, hovering in the dark like a forgotten memory.
Then, she appeared. The girl.
This time, she wasn't holding food. Instead, in her hands was a small glass jar filled with fireflies.
She crouched near the bars and carefully placed the jar between them. The insects pulsed like tiny stars trapped in a bottle.
He eyed it warily. "What is this supposed to be?"
She didn't answer with words—she never could. Instead, she pulled out her notebook and began writing.
A fresh note slid across the floor.
"Do you know the deal?"
His brow furrowed. "What deal?"
She flipped to a new page and wrote again.
"I read in a book… The deal is: fireflies carry the unfulfilled dreams of those whose names were spoken."
Unfulfilled dreams?
He scoffed, leaning back against the cold stone wall. "That's nonsense."
She tilted her head, curious.
Then, a new note.
"What do you think? Is it nonsense?"
He stared at the glowing jar, his golden eyes unreadable.
"…Dreams?" He let out a dry chuckle. "I wouldn't know. I never had the luxury of dreaming."
Another note appeared.
"How was your home?"
He went quiet.
His home.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "Which home do I live in?" he muttered. "That place… wasn't a home."
Her pencil scratched against the paper again.
"Then what was it?"
He didn't want to answer. But the words slipped out before he could stop them.
"A place where I was taken. A place where I became a monster."
The fireflies flickered as if responding to his voice.
"They made me steal," he continued. "Told me to take things. Called me a thief. A criminal."
The girl didn't move, just listened.
"For years, I thought that was all I was. A thief. A mistake."
His fingers tightened into fists.
"…But there was one time. When I was five."
The fireflies pulsed in the dim light.
"My family… They called me over one evening. Asked if I wanted to eat with them. A real dinner, like a family."
His voice was almost hollow now, as if the memory itself had no weight.
"I was so happy."
Silence.
"But then… after I ate, I got sleepy."
His jaw clenched.
"When I woke up… there was only darkness. A stink in the air. My wrists tied. A mark burned into my skin."
He rubbed his arm absentmindedly, as if feeling the cursed mark beneath his sleeve.
"I cried. I begged. But they never cared."
The girl didn't write anything this time.
She just sat there. Watching. Listening.
The fireflies danced inside the jar, casting soft patterns against the cold stone floor.
His gaze flickered toward her, then away. "Why am I even telling you this?" He let out a bitter laugh. "I'm such an idiot."
He turned away and lay down, closing his eyes as if to block out everything.
The fireflies pulsed once more.
And in the darkness of sleep, his mind drifted back—to the night he lost everything.
--