The tiles are warm. Water reaches your ankles. Beyond the pool, grass runs all the way to the horizon. A single door stands in the middle of it—the light behind it is the same color as your childhood bedroom.

The school intercom repeats your name, getting one letter wrong each time. Inside your bag is a water-warped timetable. Only the final lesson remains:

“Before sunrise, remember why you came here.”

The feeling is familiar. This is not your first time here.