The world folded back into itself so abruptly that Yè Yī almost lost his footing.
The smell of incense had vanished.
Cold midnight air rushed into its place.
The old manor stood exactly where it had been moments before, silent beneath the moon, its open cabinets and scattered records looking somehow smaller now that he'd seen where they had come from.
His hand was still half raised.
He lowered it slowly.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
The fire behind them crackled softly, reminding him that the beef they'd been cooking hadn't magically improved while they were walking through another time.
Yè Yī finally turned.
Violet had already released his sleeve.
She dusted the front of her hoodie as though dragging someone across time was no more exhausting than walking across the courtyard.
"...Why did you stop?"
She looked toward the manor instead of answering.
"The rest isn't tonight."
He frowned.
"You saw something."
"I did."
"What?"
A small smile appeared.
"If you'd seen everything..."
She nudged a loose stone with the toe of her boot.
"...you wouldn't have anything left to discover."
He stared at her for another moment before looking back at the memorial hall.
The questions hadn't become fewer.
Somehow, there were twice as many now.
A breeze drifted through the courtyard, carrying with it the unmistakable smell of beef that had spent too long over a fire.
Violet looked toward the pan.
"...That's unfortunate."
Yè Yī followed her gaze.
"The meat?"
"It had potential."
He looked at her.
"You dragged me through time."
"I did."
"...And your concern is dinner?"
"It can be both."
He opened his mouth and closed it again.
Then rubbed a hand over his face.
"...Be honest."
She waited.
"Who are you?"
The smile disappeared.
"Where are you from?"
She remained quiet.
"And why..."
His eyes settled on hers.
"...do your abilities feel so similar to mine?"
For the first time since they'd met, Violet didn't answer immediately.
She walked over to the fire instead, crouched beside it, and poked one of the glowing coals with a stick.
Tiny sparks floated upward before disappearing into the night.
"Those are three questions."
"I'm aware."
"I usually answer one."
He looked at her without expression.
"You're avoiding them."
"I'm choosing my favorite."
She rested her chin against one hand, pretending to think.
"...Where am I from?"
She looked up at the stars.
"Africa."
Yè Yī blinked.
"...That's it?"
"That's the honest answer."
"And the other two?"
"They're harder."
He watched her for several quiet seconds.
"You just bent time."
"I know."
"That's not normal."
She tilted her head.
"Neither was the thing you did."
"I didn't—"
He stopped.
She noticed.
"The black wheel."
His eyes narrowed.
"I don't know what it was."
"I know."
"...You do?"
"I know that you don't know."
He sighed.
Talking to her felt like chasing smoke.
"You said you came up with that..."
He searched for the word she'd used earlier.
"...Principle."
"I did."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I don't really mind whether you do."
She smiled faintly.
"It started with a dream."
He looked unconvinced.
"A dream."
"Mhm."
"The kind that refuses to stay a dream."
She rolled the stick slowly through the ashes.
"I woke up remembering something that had never happened."
"And that somehow became..."
He gestured vaguely toward the courtyard where the rings had appeared earlier.
"...that?"
"I understood it."
She shrugged lightly.
"So I tried it."
"You make that sound incredibly simple."
"It wasn't."
"No?"
"I nearly knocked myself unconscious the first time."
That caught him off guard.
"...Seriously?"
"I had a headache for two days."
There wasn't the slightest hint of embarrassment in her voice.
She spoke about it the same way someone might remember burning toast.
Yè Yī found himself staring at her again.
Nothing about this girl matched the image his mind kept trying to build.
She treated impossible things as though they were mildly inconvenient.
She answered serious questions with irritating honesty.
And somehow... he had the growing suspicion she wasn't hiding because she wanted to deceive him.
She simply didn't know how to explain herself yet.
"...You're impossible."
Violet looked up.
A grin spread across her face.
"I've been told worse."
"I doubt that."
"Oh?"
She stood, brushing the ash from her hands.
"What have people called you?"
He frowned.
"I don't talk to people."
"Right."
She nodded thoughtfully.
"So they probably call you things behind your back."
He looked away.
"...Probably."
"See?"
She pointed at him.
"We already have something in common."
He stared.
"...Was that supposed to make me feel better?"
"No."
"It didn't."
"I know."
She smiled anyway.
The silence that followed felt different from the ones before.
It was less guarded.
It wasn't comfortable, not yet.
Just... less sharp.
Yè Yī looked once more toward the old manor.
"So..."
he asked quietly.
"Are you dangerous?"
Violet followed his gaze.
She considered the question much longer than he expected.
Finally...
"Less than the people who came here today."
"...That's not an answer."
"No."
"It isn't."
She slipped both hands into the pockets of her hoodie.
"But it's the only one you're getting tonight."
She started walking toward the gate.
After a few steps, she glanced back over one shoulder.
"Oh."
"What?"
"If we're coming back tomorrow..."
Yè Yī already looked suspicious.
"...make breakfast."
He blinked.
"What?"
She smiled with complete innocence.
"I've discovered that using time-related abilities burns an incredible number of calories."
He looked at her for several long seconds.
"...You're making that up."
"I might be."
"You are."
"I probably am."
She turned and continued toward the road before adding, almost as an afterthought,
"But breakfast still sounds nice."
Yè Yī stood alone beside the dying fire.
For reasons he couldn't begin to explain... he laughed.
It wasn't loud and it barely lasted a moment.
Yet in a night filled with impossible things, it was the most unexpected thing that had happened to him.
And somewhere ahead, walking beneath the moonlight with her hands tucked into her pockets, Violet smiled to herself.
The breakfast part was absolutely made up.
Whether he'd cook tomorrow... was now the real mystery.