Endi's chest heaved like a fragile boat tossed by a storm.
The moment his eyes met the girl's, a lightning bolt split through him, shattering something deep within his soul.
Was it joy, sorrow, awe?
The emotion defied language, burning through him with a force so sharp it raised gooseflesh.
He did not know why he was crying.
Tears poured down his face like a waterfall, his heartbeat thundering as if stars were exploding within him.
The girl, pale as moonlight and drenched in seawater, stared up at him in stunned silence.
Her long hair clung to her face, and then—her eyes flickered once and closed.
"Ah!"
Endi's heart froze. Had she fainted—or died? He had no time to think. He scooped her into his arms and ran.
Rain began to fall, cold and relentless.
He left the sea behind, racing down the muddy path between wheat fields and orchards.
The dirt road swallowed his steps, yet he pushed on, sprinting toward the town.
The streets were deserted, swallowed in the roar of wind and rain.
And yet, strangely, the icy raindrops felt warm on his skin—
as though fragments of some forgotten memory were wrapping around him.
"Where's the hospital?!"
His voice cracked as he stumbled through the streets.
Wet hair plastered his forehead, blinding his sight, but his arms never loosened their grip on the girl.
At last, a flickering sign appeared: Town Doctor.
"Yes! You're safe now!"
He shouted, pounding on the locked door so hard the wood nearly splintered.
"What the hell's all this noise?! We're closed!"
A weary voice barked back.
The door creaked open, revealing a bald, pot-bellied man, his brows drawn in irritation.
"This girl collapsed offshore! She's a castaway! Please—help her!"
Endi's words tumbled out in desperation.
"A castaway, huh…? That's serious."
The doctor frowned, but the boy's raw urgency cut through his annoyance. He sighed and pulled the door open.
Inside, the clinic was unexpectedly spotless—
instruments neatly lined, papers stacked with precision, not a trace of dust.
'So the old man's more fastidious than he looks,' Endi thought fleetingly.
The doctor pointed at the bed. Endi laid the girl down.
"You've done enough carrying her this far. I'll take responsibility from here. Go home."
"I… I can't just—"
"Persistent brat, aren't you? Fine. Wait in the lobby, then."
Endi sat on the far edge of a bench, clothes soaked through, body trembling from cold—
yet his heart blazed hotter than ever.
"Please… let her be safe."
They had never spoken. They had never met before.
And yet her life felt heavier than his own.
He could not explain it. He only knew their souls were resonating in some unseen depth.
Twenty endless minutes passed.
Finally, the doctor emerged.
"Relax. She's only exhausted—malnourished, really. A night on fluids and she'll be fine. She'll stay here till morning. You can go."
"I don't have a home to go back to…"
Endi's voice was barely above a whisper. The doctor glanced away, uneasy.
"…That so?"
"Please. Let me stay tonight. When she wakes, seeing a stranger's room will frighten her. I'll be here."
The doctor groaned, throwing up his shoulders.
"Do what you want. But listen—this place opens at nine sharp. You'd better be gone by then!"
He stomped upstairs, leaving Endi alone in the silent clinic.
At last, relief washed over him.
The day's chaos and exhaustion came crashing down all at once.
"What a day…"
He had slain a bear, endured the awkward welcome at Paulo's manor, rescued this mysterious girl.
And still, one question gnawed at him:
Why had his tears burst forth when their eyes met?
That voice—"Will we meet again?"—was it only wind, or something calling from the depths of his soul?
His eyelids grew heavy.
In the far corners of memory, a sunlit sky flickered… a bloodstained battlefield lurked.
But for now, sleep claimed him.
Unbeknownst to Endi, this night would mark the first light breaking into his long and lonely journey.