Shuo woke in the middle of the night.
Not because of any noise. The silver thread on his wrist had simply burned hot for no apparent reason.
He opened his eyes a little and lay still, without even the slightest desire to get up.
The room was pitch-black, the curtains drawn so tightly that not a trace of light could get through.
Only the fine silver-gray thread on his left wrist glowed faintly, a little brighter than during the day. Like a firefly, it was just visible, but cast little light.
He raised his wrist and stared at it for three seconds. The thread neither disappeared nor grew brighter. It just glowed quietly, as though waiting for something.
Shuo had no interest in investigating. He lowered his wrist, rolled over, pulled the covers tight, and went back to sleep.
Early the next morning, sunlight forced its way through a gap in the curtains.
Shuo sat up, his first reaction to glance at his wrist. The thread was still there, much dimmer than it had been during the night. Without a close look, it was impossible to notice.
He glanced at it for two seconds, thought nothing of it, and leisurely got up, washed, changed, and went downstairs.
Sai was still leaning against the wall, holding a copy of "A Mechanical Analysis of Ninja Tool Throwing." Seeing him come down, he immediately stood up, his gaze falling straight on Shuo's left wrist.
"...It's glowing."
"Mm." Shuo casually slipped his hand into his pocket, his tone languid. "Come on. Let's eat."
They headed toward the cafeteria. Barely halfway down the street, Shuo suddenly stopped and looked up at the sky.
There was nothing special about today's sunlight. What had changed was his own perception.
Before, looking at light meant simply seeing it.