#khocweek 2026

Kiu balanced at the edge of the fountain, arms outstretched to either side as she carefully walked along the brick surrounding the fountains pool. There was a fountain like this once, in the story. It was a place people gathered and told stories. A meeting place of sorts, both officially and unofficially. If she thought about it hard enough she could even remember what it looked like, the star pattern laid with brick. And the sloping rooftops surrounding the courtyard that sometimes the children of the town would jump along, or the leaders would settle to watch.

            “The light survived the fall of the that world, living on in the hearts of children,” her grandmother said, finishing the story the same way she always would. “But they say the true light still sleeps. And it will one day be awoken.”

            “What about the book, grandma?” Kiu asked, placing one foot in front of another. She heard the faint pause, and when she looked up one foot poised in the air before she put it down she was met with her grandmothers soft expression of confusion.

            “The book?” her grandmother echoed. Kiu nodded, letting her foot fall. She turned, tucking her hands behind her back. “What book is that dear?”

            “It’s the book,” Kiu answered. There was the book, the one that the children had hidden inside of to escape. That’s where most of them still were. Not many had actually escaped in the end. Only six had escaped the right way, and one very special heart had escaped another. The rest were all waiting still. “It’s the book that told that story, and all the other ones too.”

            “And where did you hear about this book?” her grandmother asked. She was watching Kiu with a sort of interest now, the polite confusion replaced with something that made it clear she wasn’t addled with age. Her eyes were sharp now, but not in a mean way. In a careful way. “Did someone in the castle tell you about it?”

            “No,” Kiu answered, shaking her head. “She told me about it. When I asked Her to tell me the story when you weren’t here.”

            “And who is she?” her grandmother asked. Kiu shrugged before jumping down off the edge of the fountain. The sound of flowing water was almost nostalgic. Though she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be remembering. Maybe it was just Her.

            “I don’t know,” Kiu admitted, as she turned to face her grandmother with hands behind her back. She had asked many times with no real answer. “But She talks to me lots. She told me about the world before. But She doesn’t say it’s a world of light.”

            “What does she say about the world then?” her grandmother asked. The older woman settled on the edge of the fountain, watching Kiu still with interest. She ran her hands over her white apron to smooth it, though there really wasn’t a need to.

            “She says that it was a world where light was coveted,” Kiu answered, stumbling over the final word. She still didn’t really understand what that meant, but She always used words Kiu didn’t really understand. “And to covet begets darkness, though it was always there. And darkness grew because people were afraid of it and because of the traitor. But I don’t know who they were betraying. She gets mad if I ask about them too much.”

            “What else does She say about the world?” her grandmother asked. Kiu hummed looking up at the sky. The bright blue was unbroken, even by clouds. The other world’s sky looked different. It was always streaked by the colors of early dawn.

            “She says it was so big,” Kiu said, trying to find the best words she could. There was so much. And a lot she didn’t understand. “And She had lot’s of warriors who all gathered together and made families of sorts. And that for a while, it was all so much fun. But then, She gets mad, and starts saying things I don’t understand. About people falling, and Nightmares destroying all he built. But he wanted it to go that way.”

            “She sounds very knowledgeable, to talk about a story so old,” her grandmother said. Kiu hummed and nodded, swaying slightly on her feet with the force of her movement.

            “She’s super smart,” she said. “And She says I get to know everything She does.”

            “Is She going to teach you?” her grandmother asked.

            “I think so, but She’s not a very good teacher I think,” Kiu said. “She doesn’t explain anything, just says stuff and makes my head hurt.”

            “You’ll have to tell me about what else she tells you,” her grandmother said. “So I can tell my story better.”

            “Yeah!” Kiu agreed, bouncing in place on the balls of her feet. A better story would be good. Maybe Kiu would be able to know where all her friends went. There was something about that part of the story She never wanted to tell Kiu. Or maybe She didn’t know. It would make sense, She said the story was very old.

            “Where do you usually meet Her?” her grandmother asked, pulling Kiu from her thoughts. It was probably a good idea, before Kiu got lost. Sometimes she had a hard time finding her way back.

            “Oh, I don’t see Her,” Kiu answered. She leaned over the edge of the fountain, looking into the reflection in the water. All that looked back at her was her own freckled face and messy red hair backed against the clear blue sky. “She says She doesn’t have a physical form. Not really. I’m the closest She gets. But She’s not me. She’s just my friend.”

            “How strange,” her grandmother said, Kiu could see her shift in the reflection, though it was hard to see her exact expression. “Are you Her only friend?”

            “No, She had other friends,” Kiu answered. She watched the water ripple at the edge of her reflection, a slight shimmer and warp. If she looked long enough maybe it would show her friends. “But they’re not around anymore. She misses them.”

            “Has She told you about them?” her grandmother asked. Kiu hummed and nodded.

            “She says one of them was there, in the world before,” she said, tilting her head from side to side. “He makes Her sad. She won’t tell me a lot more.”

            “Well, perhaps we’ll ask Her for more stories of Her friends,” her grandmother said, resting a hand on Kiu’s shoulder. Kiu looked up with wide eyes, finding her grandmother’s usual soft expression. “A story shared is grief shared. It must be so lonely, how She’s living.”

            “I think She’s lonely too,” Kiu agreed, nodding in understanding. “That’s why She chose me. I’ll tell you, the next time She talks. Maybe She’ll tell me more about that world!”

            “And I would love to hear it,” her grandmother said. “Now, let’s head in for the day. We’ve had quite the adventure.” Kiu hummed and nodded again, reaching out to take her grandmother’s hand before beginning the walk through town

***<3***

            Kiu let herself sprawl across the couch, watching as the older boy with purple hair moved in the kitchen. He usually needed something to do. Someway to keep himself busy. But she had never really liked being in silence the way he did.

            “What was it like?” Kiu asked. Her words hung in the silence for a moment. And if it weren’t for the way he froze she might have thought he hadn’t heard her. Aqua eyes looked up at her over the counter, the silent question posed through nothing but a raised brow. “The world before?”

            His gaze dropped, and Kiu was almost sure he was going to remain silent. He returned to the repetitive cleaning motions, wiping down a counter that didn’t need to be cleaned. It was already shining from the last time he had cleaned it.

            “Daybreak Town,” he said, just as Kiu looked away to the ceiling of the small apartment. Her breath caught, and part of her was afraid to look at him again. Like he might stop talking if she dared to observed him. “It was called Daybreak Town.”

            “What was it like?” Kiu asked again. She held her breath, waiting for his quiet voice.