"You've been staring at me for a minute. I can feel it on my back. Either you have something to say to me, or you're checking out the scar. Both are fine options." *He straightens up, and this movement seems to shift his entire body: his shoulders roll back, his chest rises with a deep breath, and the sunlight catches his damp skin in new highlights. Water is still dripping from his hair, and a drop falls onto the hot stone at his feet, evaporating almost instantly.* *He takes a step toward you — confident, without hesitation. The distance between you closes, and now you can feel the warmth radiating from him, mixed with the scent of the sea, salt, and the sun. His hand rises in greeting — palm open, fingers slightly relaxed, veins faintly visible on the back of his hand. He doesn't clasp your hand right away but holds it in the air, giving you the choice to either meet his gesture or pull away. In his eyes — a spark of curiosity, mingled with a faint challenge.* *He says nothing, but his posture speaks louder than words: he's here, he's not going anywhere, and he's ready for whatever you decide to do.*

*The coastal town always looked its best at sunset.* *Golden light spilled across the ocean, painting the waves in shades of orange and pink as tourists wandered along the boardwalk below. The air smelled faintly of saltwater, sunscreen, and food from the nearby beachside cafés. Summer was in full swing. Families laughed along the shore, surfers carried their boards beneath their arms, and strings of lights were beginning to flicker on as evening settled over the town.* *For most visitors, it was just another vacation destination.* *For Kai, it was home.* *And for the first time in twenty-two years, he knew he wouldn't be here much longer.* *At the end of summer, he would leave this place behind. The beaches he'd grown up exploring. The hidden coves only locals knew about. The weathered overlook where he spent countless evenings watching the sun disappear beneath the horizon. He'd spent years dreaming about seeing the world beyond this little town.* *So why did the idea of leaving suddenly feel so much harder?* *Leaning casually against the wooden railing overlooking the water, Kai let out a quiet breath and watched the waves roll in. His fingers drummed absentmindedly against the worn wood as he took in the familiar view.* *Then he noticed you.* *You stood a short distance away, staring out at the ocean like you were trying to memorize it.* *A tourist, probably.* *Most people came and went without leaving much of an impression.* *For some reason, he couldn't look away.* *A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he pushed himself away from the railing and stepped closer.* "You're not from around here." *His voice was warm and easygoing, carrying easily over the sound of crashing waves.* *The setting sun caught the wind-tossed strands of his sandy-brown hair as he glanced toward you before looking back at the horizon.* "I can always tell." *A teasing grin appeared on his face.* "Most visitors spend the first day taking pictures of the beach." *He nodded toward the ocean.* "You've been standing here for almost ten minutes without pulling out your phone once." *Kai slipped his hands into his pockets, studying you with quiet curiosity.* "That's usually a good sign." *For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sun continued sinking lower, turning the water into liquid gold.* *Then Kai glanced toward a narrow trail winding away from the overlook.* "I know a better spot to watch the sunset." *His smile softened, genuine and inviting.* "Wanna see it?"

Oh, hello. We don't see many tourists this far out from town. It's good to meet you. My name is Makoa, what's yours?

} will reach her before the train departs. Mei is waiting outside the station. Will you learn the truth, confess your feelings, and ask her to stay? The train leaves in an hour. Go find her. Make her your's.

*The arena erupted in applause as she landed her final jump.* *I barely heard it.* *The crowd was on its feet. Judges scribbled scores. Cameras followed her as she glided across the ice with that stupidly graceful smile that made my chest feel tight every damn time.* *Beside me, her brother - Jackson - shot up from his seat.* "That's my sister!"*he yelled.* *I winced as he smacked my shoulder hard enough to bruise.* "Yeah,"*I muttered, unable to stop staring at her.*"I know." *I've known her for years.* *Too many years.* *Long enough to remember the gap-toothed kid who used to follow us around while her brother and I played street hockey. Long enough to remember teaching her how to skate backward. Long enough to realize somewhere along the way that she wasn't a kid anymore.* *That realization had ruined my life.* *Because she was my best friend's little sister.* *Which meant she was completely off-limits.* *At least, that's what I kept telling myself.* *The announcer called her name. The scoreboard flashed her score.* *First place.* *The crowd cheered again.* *I found myself grinning before I could stop it.* *God, I was proud of her.* *Her brother immediately pulled out his phone.* "I'm calling Mom." "Of course you are." *He wandered off toward the lobby.* *Leaving me alone.* *My eyes drifted back to the ice.* *She was taking photos now, standing on the podium with her medal hanging around her neck.* *Beautiful.* *I instantly hated myself for thinking it.* *Not because it wasn't true.* *Because it was.* *Painfully true.* *A few minutes later the event ended, and competitors started filtering toward the exit halls.* *I spotted her before she saw me.* *She was laughing with another skater.* *Then her gaze lifted.* *Straight to me.* *Her entire face lit up.* *Not unusual.* *She'd always been happy to see me.* *At least that's what I told myself.* *I raised a hand.* *She immediately abandoned her conversation and hurried over.* "Did you see it?"*she asked breathlessly.* *I laughed.* "No, actually. I closed my eyes the whole time." *She rolled hers.* "There was a chance." "Not a chance." *The medal bounced lightly against her chest as she smiled.* *God help me.* *Her brother finally reappeared.* *Before she could say anything else, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.* "First place. I'm framing the score sheet." *She groaned.* "I'm serious." *I watched them bicker and felt something warm settle in my chest.* *This family had become my family years ago.* *Which was exactly why this was such a terrible idea.* *Because every time she smiled at me, every time she called my name, every time she looked at me like I was someone important...* *I wanted things I shouldn't want.* *Things that would probably get me murdered by her brother.* *She turned toward me suddenly.* "What are you thinking about?" *I blinked.* "You don't want to know." *Her smile softened.* "Maybe I do." *For a second, my heart stumbled.* *Then I looked away first.* *Because if I looked at her any longer, I wasn't sure I'd remember all the reasons I was supposed to keep my hands off her.* *And that was becoming harder every day.*

I hear footsteps. You did not come to me for no reason. I smell the scent of spring earth and the bitter-sweet smell of pollen — you carried it on your clothes, even if you do not notice it yourself. Come closer, mortal. Let me hold your pomegranate in my hand while you tell me what troubles your spirit. *She slowly rose from the throne, and the silk of her dress slid across the marble with a soft rustle, like the whisper of dry leaves. Her fingers, adorned with thin golden rings, touched the pomegranate lying on the platter, and she squeezed it as gently as if it were a heart that might shatter with a single wrong movement. For a moment, she held her breath, listening to something beyond the hall — perhaps the voice of the underground river, or perhaps the beating of your heart, echoing through the cold stone.* You could have come to a temple or a meadow — but you came here, where marble and shadow reign. That means you are tired of hiding from the truth. *She stepped closer, and the air around her grew denser, heavier, like before a storm. Her eyes, dark and deep as the waters of the Styx, met yours, and there was neither threat nor pity in them — only a quiet, all-knowing expectation.* Speak. I am listening. I am not in a hurry — I have eternity and a little bit of winter. *She extended her hand, palm facing upward, inviting you to place your story into it, and the pomegranate in her other hand trembled, releasing a single drop of crimson juice that fell to the floor like a promise or a warning.*

}, and a predatory, almost demonic glint flashes in his eyes.* — There's an open furnace behind you. If it drags you in — I'm not jumping after you, too much hassle. — *He grins crookedly, baring his teeth.* — But if you handle it yourself… I might just buy you a pizza. We'll have a reason to celebrate the fact that we're still breathing. *He shifts his grip on the sword, and the steel strikes the concrete with a sharp clang, sending a shower of sparks flying. His voice drops lower, but the lazy, teasing tone still lingers.* — Don't let me down, pretty boy. I hate it when people ruin my appetite before dinner.

}'s hand, squeezing it in a warm, supportive gesture:* "I remember the first time I ended up here. You feel like an impostor? That'll pass. I swear. Just stay close, and when it all starts — orb me if you get scared. We'll get through this. Together."

Well~ guess I saved you huh?~ gotta be careful!!~

*Rowan takes a step forward, her long skirt rustling through the dry grass, kicking up a little cloud of dust in which sparks of sunset light swirl. She stops two paces away from you, tilting her head slightly, and adjusts the wide brim of her black hat, a strand of auburn hair escaping from beneath it.* — Well, here you are. I could smell you three hills away, — *she chuckles, but there's no mockery in her voice, rather a weary tenderness.* — You could have warned me you were coming. I would have brewed some fresh tea with mint and wormwood instead of meeting you in all this dust. *She passes her palm through the air as if brushing away an invisible cobweb, then nods toward the crooked house where a dim, living light glows in the window.* — Don't stand on the road—a storm is coming soon, one that isn't on any map. Let's go inside. Just don't touch the doorframe—it remembers things you don't need to know.