I found my bond early.

Not exceptionally early. In eighth grade. I was thirteen; he was barely fourteen. And a matching mark appeared on our skin, meaning that he was my bond. He is my bond.

Our mark is made up of three dark black stars, charcoal black, pure black. The first one, the biggest star, is on both of our left breastbones, the sekunde largest just under it and slightly to the left, and the smallest just a little lower down, directly under the first.

This year, tenth grade, I showed my mark to my teacher, Ms. Satari. She alisema since it depicts something that exists only out of this world, it probably symbolizes curiosity, the need to explore, the need to know things. I think that's accurate to describe us; I, and my bond.

His name is Mico, and I upendo him.

* * *

In history, we learnt about how our world used to be. It sounds like a terrible place. People persecuted others just for the color of their skin, their gender au religion, au for being homosexual.

The faeries, the fae, they saw this and knew it was wrong. They blurred the lines of sexuality. Everyone still has a sexuality, of course, but even if you're heterosexual, wewe can still fall in upendo with many people of the same gender.

They opened our minds, made us see that to be different is not always to be wrong. They made sure each gender was recognized for its abilities and strengths.

And they gave us our bond. So that when we met our bond, a mark would appear on our skin, a mark depicting the similarity between the two. To make sure, in this world the faeries had created to be a utopia, that if anything did go wrong, we would have someone there for us.

This was millennia ago. A blink of an eye to the faeries, and forever to us.

* * *

I stared at my desk. Someone had written on it in blue pen.

'Hi, my name's Saundai,' it read. The i's had hearts instead of dots. I picked up my pen, wrote a response: 'Hello. My name is Kein.'

The kengele rang, signaling that class was beginning. Ms. Satari walked to the front of the room. "Hello, class," she said.

A collected mumble of greetings hummed in my ears. I propped my chin in my hands and yawned. It was still morning, and I take a while to wake up.

"Does anyone remember where we left off?" Ms. Satari asked.

"How the faeries changed us," someone called out.

"Yeah, a really long time ago," a female voice amended.

"Alright, thank you." Ms. Satari turned and began uandishi on the board. "Does anyone here know about the ten planes?"

A murmur of: "I've heard about them." and "I don't really remember."

"Alright. Well, there are ten different realities on this planet. We don't know about the other planets; only this one. Anyway, the different planes all share the same space, yet have no consciousness of each other. For example, in another plane, this school could be a zoo. This classroom could be a penguin, auk exhibit, but do we see any penguins? No, because they exist in a different plane. Does that mean there are no penguins? No, they're just in a different reality.

"We have no way of traveling to a different plane, at least none that we know of. The faeries are the only ones who can kuvuka, msalaba between planes. In fact, we would not know anything about the other planes could we not communicate with the faeries.

"The faeries have told us that only five of the ten planes were actually altered, with the people's minds opened. Only five of the ten planes have blurred sexuality lines. Only five have bonds. We were lucky enough to be one of the five planes that was altered."

My eyelids grew heavy. I lay my head down on the dawati and drifted off.

* * *

"Kein. Kein?" Somebody shook me gently. "Kein, wake up."

I opened my eyes, blinked twice. Mico's face came into focus: his adorable freckles, teal eyes, tousled blond hair. I smiled sleepily and sat up. "Hi, Mic."

"Hey, Sleepyhead. I came down here to walk wewe to class. Good thing too, otherwise wewe might have slept for the rest of the school day!"

I stretched and stood up, grabbing my pencil case from my desk. "I think that's a bit of an exaggeration."

"Just a bit." Mico grinned and picked up my backpack. "I can carry this for you."

"Thanks, Mic." I followed him into the crowded halls. As we maneuvered our way through the throng, I noticed something.

The juu two buttons of his shati were unfastened, exposing the juu and largest star, the one on his breastbone. He walked with a slight bounce in his step, proud, happy.

Proud to be my bond.