Sunlight filtered gently through the leaves, thin beams of gold slipping between branches and touching the forest floor. The night's chill was fading, replaced by the warmth of a quiet morning.
Arin sat with his back against the tree where he had rested, his injured hand newly wrapped in clean cloth. The fabric was still stiff in places, but it was better than before. He looked exhausted, though calmer than the night prior.
Beside him, Askiro stirred.
Her lashes fluttered. She rubbed her eyes slowly, barely able to keep them open. For a moment, her mind was still fogged with sleep. She felt warmth near her shoulder — someone sitting close.
She turned her head.
Arin met her gaze and gave a small, tired smile.
"Good morning," he said softly. "Slept well?"
Without thinking, she mumbled, "Yeah… barely."
A pause.
Her mind caught up.
Her eyes widened.
"WH– WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" she blurted, scrambling backward so fast she nearly tripped over a root.
Arin blinked. "What do you mean? You came here. You fell asleep where I was resting."
The words hit her like a thrown stone.
She remembered.
The humming.
The moonlight.
The confession whispered to the night.
Her face drained of color before flushing violently red.
"I— I did not!" she snapped, standing abruptly. "You're making that up!"
Arin stared at her, confused. "I'm really not."
She turned away before he could see her expression, muttering something incoherent under her breath.
From a short distance away, quiet snickering broke the morning calm.
The scene shifted to the nearby river.
Arin knelt at the riverbank, rinsing the blood from his shirt. The cold water numbed his fingers, though his injured hand still throbbed faintly.
Dephore sat on a smooth rock nearby, watching him with mild amusement.
"Hey, Arin."
"Yeah?"
"What happened between you and Askiro?" she asked casually. "Why was she screaming so early in the morning?"
Arin paused, wringing water from the fabric. "I don't know. When I woke up, she was sitting beside me. When she woke up, she started screaming."
Dephore's lips curved. "People don't scream like that unless something changed."
Arin glanced toward the camp through the trees.
For just a second, he looked thoughtful.
Then he looked away. "Nothing changed."
A body suddenly dropped against him.
Leiofa collapsed onto Arin's back, laughing uncontrollably. "I was eavesdropping! This is better than I expected!"
"Where did you even come from?" Arin demanded.
"Strategic positioning," Leiofa replied proudly.
Arin, now completely soaked, shoved him off balance and sent him stumbling into the shallow water.
Laughter erupted from behind Dephore.
She didn't even turn. "You too?" Arin shouted, spotting the others trying and failing to look innocent.
The forest filled with the sound of teasing and splashing water.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Later, Arin hung his washed clothes near the fire. The flames crackled softly, orange light dancing against the morning air.
He crouched near it, adjusting the fabric.
Footsteps approached.
"Hey," Askiro said quietly. "Need any help?"
Arin glanced up at her. She looked calmer now, though a faint embarrassment lingered in her posture.
"I do," he replied. "Thanks."
She sat beside him.
The fire burned steadily between them.
For a while, neither spoke.
The air felt heavier than it should have. The others were farther off, busy with their own tasks. It was quiet here — just the soft snapping of wood and the distant rustle of leaves.
"So," she finally asked, keeping her eyes on the flames, "what did you need help with?"
Arin hesitated.
The firelight reflected in his eyes.
"Nothing," he said after a moment. "I just… wanted to talk with you."
Her breath caught.
The world seemed to shrink to the space between them.
"About what?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
He looked at her.
Really looked at her.
His injured hand twitched faintly in his lap, a dull warmth spreading beneath the bandages.
"I was going to ask—"
Pain struck her like lightning.
Her vision blurred.
A sharp pressure exploded behind her eyes, spreading down her spine like fire racing through dry leaves. The world tilted violently.
She gasped.
Her hand flew to her head.
"Askiro?" Arin's voice sharpened.
The flames before her warped, stretching unnaturally tall in her vision. For a split second, she thought she saw something inside them — a shape, twisting, watching.
The pressure became unbearable.
Her body went limp.
Arin lunged forward just in time to catch her before she hit the ground.
"Askiro!"
Her breathing was uneven. Too shallow.
The others rushed over at the sound of his voice.
"What happened?" Leiofa demanded.
"She just— she just collapsed," Arin said, holding her carefully. His heart pounded harder than it should have.
His injured hand burned suddenly.
Not from strain.
From heat.
He looked down.
Through the thin cloth, faint warmth pulsed — synchronized with the flickering fire beside them.
Askiro didn't move.
The forest, once bright with morning light, felt suffocatingly still.
And the embers between them burned just a little hotter than before.