The Resting Centre was quiet. Too quiet, actually. The kind of quiet that makes you check twice whether a trapdoor is about to snap open under your feet—or if someone's silently judging you for breathing. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, painting streaks across worn wooden floorboards, lighting up the dust motes like tiny, floating fairy celebrities. Yelena sat cross-legged on a mat near the window, tracing the grooves of the wood as if it held the answers to life itself—or at least a decent cup of tea.
The trio had left an hour ago, marching off into the forest like they were auditioning for a hero poster. Leaving her here. Alone. With Koga, who was snoring softly and taking a nap that would probably count as a minor crime against time itself.
Her eyes kept flicking to him. The rise and fall of his chest… steady. Calm. Annoyingly peaceful. It tugged at memories she had buried deep—silent rooms, nights stretching on like endless gray blankets, loneliness that pressed so hard it could crush ribs if you weren't careful.
Narrator (snarky):"Ah, yes. The classic brooding scene. Girl sits quietly, contemplating the heavy weight of life, while dude snores nearby. You know the one. And yes, audience, I see you leaning forward, thinking: 'They're gonna kiss any minute now, right?' Nope. Wrong. Chill."
Yelena exhaled softly and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous to feel all of this while someone else was just… existing in the same room. But hey, human emotions are messy like that.
Her thoughts drifted to childhood nights—staring at a ceiling too low, in a room too small, where the only sound was her own breathing and occasional creaks from a distant floorboard. A tiny lamp flickered on her desk back then, casting more shadows than light, a single beacon of control in a world that had no interest in her comfort. She'd learned early to rely on routines, on rituals, on the tiniest comforts. And now, the same habits clung to her, even in this strange Resting Centre.
Koga shifted slightly in his sleep. A soft creak, a twitch of his fingers. Yelena noticed, as she always noticed, the subtle echo of his history, the faint scars of solitude mirrored in the smallest gestures. She couldn't put it into words, because of course she couldn't, but the recognition made her chest tighten in a way she refused to name.
That One Girl (tsundere, muttering):"W-wait… okay, so they both… suffered alone? That's… wow… kinda sad… but don't think I care or anything, geez… I just… noticed it. Yeah, noticed it. That's all."
She moved a vial of healing elixir, feeling its cool weight in her hand, a grounding sensation. Both she and Koga had leaned on small comforts like these during darker days, relying on routines to survive. Self-sufficiency had saved them, but it left quiet scars neither spoke aloud.
The scent of old wood, faint herbs, and soft sunlight mingled in the room. Outside, the leaves of the forest swayed gently in a breeze that whispered through the open window. Yelena imagined walking through that forest with Koga at her side, two solitary souls moving in sync without needing words.
Narrator (interrupting):"And there it is. Two lonely hearts, perfectly aligned like magnets in a zen garden. Neither will admit it. And audience? Yeah, you're crying a little. I saw you. Don't worry, I'll cry too… in a sarcastic, ironic way."
Yelena let her hand fall to the mat, brushing the cold wood, resisting the urge to lightly touch him. Some truths are delicate, fragile—like glass figurines or unfinished latte art.
She thought briefly of the trio—Xitij, Rosé, Einar. Out there somewhere, probably arguing over whether a squirrel counts as prey. Meanwhile, she sat here, shawl pulled tightly, anxiety and protective instinct wrapped around her like armor.
That One Girl:"Ugh… I'm not… crying, okay? I'm totally fine… just… wow. He looks peaceful. And… don't get any ideas, jeez."
A small scratch on Koga's forearm caught her attention, leftover from the morning hunt. Carefully, she adjusted the bandage, brushing the soft fabric. He didn't stir. Even in sleep, he trusted her—small detail, huge significance.
Sunlight shifted, stretching long shadows across the floor. Yelena leaned against the window frame, letting the light warm her arms. Memories, worries, and tiny "what ifs" swirled like dust motes in the sunbeam. It was strange to think two people could carry such similar scars and never speak of them.
Narrator (snarky style):"Cue the music, folks! Quiet tension, secret parallel histories, and zero acknowledgment. I mean, can you feel it? The brooding. The angst. It's palpable. Almost as palpable as when you realize you left your phone in the fridge. True story."
Her fingers drummed softly against the windowsill, almost meditative. Outside, the breeze carried the scent of forest—wet earth, leaves, distant flowers. She imagined sharing it with someone who understood. Not Koga, not quite yet, but the idea of being understood.
Koga shifted again, stretching lightly, a soft murmur escaping his lips. Yelena smiled faintly. Even silent, even sleeping, he was grounding her.
That One Girl:"Wow… okay… so they both… suffered the same thing. And I… I'm fine… totally fine… but wow. My heart… it's really not fine… okay fine, it's fine… just don't get any ideas, geez."
She pressed her cheek to her knees, letting the sun warm her. Silence had weight. Unspoken understanding was comforting. Even in solitude, she wasn't completely alone.
The sun continued its slow crawl across the floor, bathing the room in warm light. Two solitary hearts rested near each other, mirroring histories never spoken, echoing through small gestures and silent presence.
That One Girl:"Oh wow… so quiet… so golden… okay… my heart is a mess, but like… the good kind of mess. I can feel it. I can feel it all… but it's totally not like I care or anything, jeez."
Narrator :"And there we have it, audience. Tsundere meltdown in four acts. Quiet sunlight, unspoken heartbreak, minor emotional devastation… and yes, I will sign your therapy bill later. Don't blink. This light? Fleeting. Just like their perfect little silent heart-to-heart. Now go stretch or something."