The sky was painted in soft orange as the final bell rang, ending another long school day.
Students rushed out of the classroom, chattering and laughing. Arleyong walked among them quietly, her silver hair reflecting the evening light.
"Arleyong! Hey!" Erina called, waving as she caught up from behind. "You're walking home alone? Or are your parents picking you up?"
Arleyong blinked once. "…I don't know."
"Eh? They didn't come?" Erina frowned, then smiled again, hands on her hips. "Hmm, don't worry! If your parents forgot to take you home, I'll tell my mom to drive you back. How's that~?"
Arleyong didn't reply.
Erina grinned, teasingly. "Not much of a talker, huh? Cold, cute, and handsome type — I like that~."
For the first time, Arleyong's lips moved just slightly — a faint, almost invisible twitch of emotion.
Erina laughed. "Haha, alright, alright. I'll stop joking. Let's go."
They walked toward the school gate together. Parents waited on the other side, calling out their children's names, the sound of engines and laughter filling the air.
From a distance, two figures stood in the shade near a parked black car.
"Hmm," said the Unknown man — the boss — as he watched. "I see she's made a friend. That's fast. I expected her to stay silent for a week."
Beside him, Sang Fei crossed her arms. "At least she's opening up to someone."
The boss nodded slowly. "Sang Fei, go talk to that friend's mother before she leaves. I want Arleyong to stay with her — starting tomorrow. I'll pay… nine thousand five hundred yen."
Sang Fei's eyes widened. "What? Boss, do we really need to do that?"
"Yes," he said flatly. "Why?"
Sang Fei hesitated. "…Arleyong, she—" She stopped herself. "Never mind. I'll go talk to her."
At the gate, Erina spotted someone from afar.
"Oh, there's my mom!" she said brightly, then turned to Arleyong. "Did you see your parents yet?"
Arleyong shook her head slightly. "I don't—"
"Arleyong!" a voice called from behind.
Arleyong turned. It was Sang Fei, walking quickly toward them.
Erina blinked. "Oh… guess your guardian's here."
Sang Fei stopped in front of them. "Hey, are you Arleyong's friend?"
Erina smiled a little shyly. "Oh, yeah! I'm Erina."
Sang Fei's tone softened. "Nice name, Erina. Hmm… could you tell me where your parents are? I need to ask them something."
Erina tilted her head, a bit confused. "Uh, sure… should I take you there?"
"Yes, please. Thank you, dear. Come along, Arleyong."
They walked together through the parking area until they reached a small blue car. A woman stood beside it — Erina's mother, cheerful and kind-eyed.
After introductions, Sang Fei explained the situation carefully: Arleyong was a special student, with no close guardians nearby, and they needed someone trustworthy to care for her.
"9,500 yen?" Erina's mother repeated, surprised. "That's… too much. I'd prefer one hundred hundred yen. It's fine, really."
Sang Fei smiled politely. "It's okay, ma'am. Our organization can afford it. We just need someone dependable to look after her for a while."
Erina's mother tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… alright. How about eight thousand yen a month? That's fair enough for me."
Sang Fei nodded. "Alright then. Thank you for accepting. We'll bring her over tomorrow after school."
"Of course. Take care, dear," Erina's mother said warmly.
Sang Fei smiled faintly. "Goodbye."
They walked away, Erina whisper softly, her eyes lighting up. "Wait— for real?! Arleyong gonna stay with us tomorrow?! Ahhh, yes!"
Arleyong blinked slowly. "…Why?"
Sang Fei spoke softly. "I'm sorry, Arle… we have other work to handle."
Arleyong's voice lowered, quiet and cold. "What work? Did Dan Heng… set me free?"
Sang Fei stopped walking for a second. "You mean the boss? …I don't know. He's planning something."
Arleyong's eyes narrowed faintly. "What plan?"
Sang Fei sighed. "I can't tell you. Not yet. Anyway— come on. Let's go 'home'."
The word home echoed faintly in Arleyong's mind — strange, distant, almost meaningless. She speak to herself, murmur. "That's not my home... That's my nightmare"
The night sky stretched endlessly above the city, painted in silver and blue.
Inside the quiet car, Arleyong sat beside Sang Fei, her eyes staring blankly out the window. Streetlights passed in rhythm, reflecting faintly in her silver irises. Neither of them spoke.
The vehicle moved smoothly through the dark road until it reached the facility — the same cold, metallic building that felt more like a prison than a lab.
The moment they entered, the air changed. The faint hum of machines replaced the outside breeze.
Sang Fei led her silently through the hallway. Arleyong didn't resist. She never did.
When they reached the familiar room, the one filled with tubes and cold glass, Arleyong stepped inside on her own — no command needed.
The door hissed shut behind her.
She sat down in the corner of the cage-like chamber, knees pulled close to her chest, eyes turned away. The faint blue light from the monitors washed over her pale skin.
A heavy door opened again, and a calm, deep voice followed.
"Welcome back," said Dan Heng, the boss, stepping into the room. "How was school, dear Ting Arleyong?"
Arleyong didn't answer. She simply turned her face aside, pressing her forehead against her knees.
Dan Heng sighed, shaking his head slightly. "What a pity. You could've been more talkative. But I suppose that's what makes you… unique."
He walked closer to the glass barrier, studying her quietly like an artist inspecting his creation.
"Anyway," he said softly, "sweet dreams, Arleyong. You know your new life begins tomorrow."
He turned away, motioning to Sang Fei. "Let's go."
"Yes, Boss."
As they walked out, Sang Fei paused and looked back one last time. Through the glass, Arleyong's figure sat motionless, her arms still hugging her legs.
Sang Fei's eyes softened — concern, guilt, something human in a place that forgot what that word meant.
Then the door closed with a metallic hiss, leaving Arleyong alone once more in the cold light.
The classroom smelled faintly of chalk and warm sunlight streaming through the windows.
Arleyong sat at her desk, pen gliding carefully across her notebook. Her handwriting was precise, almost hypnotic in its calm rhythm.
Beside her, Erina's paper was a burst of color, filled with messy doodles and anime sketches instead of equations. Her pencil tapped against the desk, her gaze fixed on the front of the room where the math teacher explained another problem — not even glancing in her direction.
Arleyong's silver eyes shifted toward her.
"…Erina," she murmured softly. "Why aren't you paying attention?"
Erina sighed, lowering her head. "Ugh… it's my math teacher," she whispered bitterly. "She always treats me like I'm invisible. Never helps me when I ask something. But if I get it wrong—"
Her voice cracked slightly. "—she shouts at me in front of everyone. It's… embarrassing."
Arleyong didn't move, just listened quietly.
"She laughs with Xavier, Yuki, Eric, Hazel… always laughing. But me?" Erina gave a hollow chuckle. "I'm just the joke."
Her smile faded. "All my favorite teachers already moved to other schools. I wish… I could see them again."
The sound of chalk scraping on the board filled the silence that followed.
Arleyong looked at her for a long moment — her calm expression unmoving, yet something in her eyes softened, almost imperceptibly. She wanted to say something… but words weren't her strength.
So she simply nodded. A small gesture, quiet, but genuine.
Erina looked down, her lips trembling into a tiny, tired smile.
"I wish…" she whispered, barely audible, "…I had someone to notice me. Really notice me."
Arleyong didn't respond. Her pen moved again, tracing silent lines across the page. The sound was steady, constant — like a heartbeat.
A small silence lingered between them, heavy but tender.
Then, in a whisper softer than a breath, words escaped Arleyong's lips — too faint for Erina to hear."I am the one noticing you, Erina."
The bell rang, slicing through the silence of the classroom.
"Finally—!" Erina groaned, stretching her arms. "If I listen to one more math formula, I swear my brain's gonna explode."
Arleyong quietly closed her notebook, stacking it neatly.
"Hey, Arleyong." Erina leaned sideways on her chair. "You brought lunch, right?"
"…Yes."
"Ooh, lemme guess— something cute, like a bento with animal rice shapes?"
Arleyong blinked. "…It's bread."
Erina froze. "…Just bread?"
Arleyong nodded.
Erina sighed dramatically. "You really are the 'mysterious girl' type, huh. Plain, quiet, eats bread like a background anime character."
Arleyong tilted her head slightly. "That's oddly specific."
"Shh, let me have my monologue," Erina said, grinning. "Anyway, come with me! Let's eat together at the courtyard. I always go there when class ends — the wind's nice."
Arleyong hesitated, clutching the small loaf of bread in her hand. "…Together?"
"Yeah!" Erina stood up and grabbed her wrist before she could think twice. "Come on, bread girl!"
Arleyong let herself be pulled along, her expression unreadable — though a faint warmth crossed her face under the sunlight filtering through the hallway windows.
The courtyard was bright and alive with laughter and wind.
Erina sat cross-legged on the bench, unwrapping her colorful lunchbox.
"Ta-da~ Homemade curry rice. My mom says I should marry a chef someday. I think I'll just marry curry instead."
Arleyong sat beside her, quietly nibbling her bread.
"You know," Erina said after a moment, her tone softer, "you're kinda weird."
Arleyong looked at her blankly. "…Is that an insult?"
"Nope." Erina smiled faintly. "Just means… I like talking to you."
Arleyong blinked again, unsure what to say. The breeze lifted her silver hair slightly, catching the light.
"…Okay," she replied simply.
Erina chuckled. "You're impossible to read, you know that?"
"I know."
They sat there for a while — the loud world around them fading into quiet peace.
For the first time in a long while, Erina didn't feel invisible.
And for the first time ever, Arleyong didn't feel alone.
A gentle breeze carried the scent of sakura petals across the courtyard. The branches above them swayed, scattering a few pink fragments that landed softly on Arleyong's shoulder.
Erina leaned closer, brushing one off playfully. "There. You got flower power now."
Arleyong stared at her. "…Is that… contagious?"
Erina blinked, then laughed so hard she nearly dropped her spoon. "What?! No!— Pfft, oh my god, you're too literal sometimes."
"…Oh." Arleyong looked down at her bread again, quietly taking another bite. "Then… good."
"Good?"
"Because I don't want to turn pink."
Erina gave her a look of mock disbelief. "You'd look adorable in pink!"
Arleyong blinked slowly. "I'd look infected."
That was it— Erina burst out laughing, clutching her stomach, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. The students nearby turned to glance, but she didn't care. Her laughter filled the air, bright and unrestrained.
Arleyong just watched quietly, head tilted ever so slightly. Something unfamiliar tugged at her chest — a small, light feeling she didn't quite understand.
When Erina finally calmed down, she sighed with a content grin. "You really don't know how funny you are, huh?"
"I wasn't trying to be."
"That's what makes it funnier."
Arleyong looked away, a faint pink hue crossing her cheeks. "…Strange."
"Hm?"
"You laugh even when… nothing's funny."
Erina looked up at the sky for a moment, her expression softening. "That's because sometimes, you gotta make your own reason to smile, you know? Otherwise, no one else will do it for you."
Arleyong stared at her quietly, those words echoing in her mind — make your own reason to smile.
It felt… distant. Yet warm.
"Then…" she murmured softly, "you're strong."
Erina blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Arleyong's tone. "…Strong? Me?"
Arleyong nodded once. "You keep smiling. Even when people ignore you."
For a second, Erina didn't know what to say. Her chest tightened — a mix of gratitude and something she couldn't name.
"…Thanks, Arleyong."
The sound of the school bell in the distance broke the silence, marking the end of lunch break.
Erina packed her box, still smiling faintly. "Guess it's time to suffer through science class next."
Arleyong stood up as well, brushing off the crumbs from her skirt. "Do you dislike science too?"
"I don't dislike it," Erina said, stretching her arms lazily. "I just dislike how every teacher makes it sound like rocket surgery."
"Rocket… surgery?" Arleyong repeated, blinking in confusion.
Erina smirked. "Exactly. It doesn't exist."
"…You're strange."
"Takes one to know one, bread girl."
The nickname made Arleyong stop mid-step, glancing back at her. "…Bread girl?"
"Yup." Erina winked. "You eat bread for lunch. Every day. Until you change that, I'm calling you that."
Arleyong looked at her blankly for a long moment, then replied flatly, "Then I won't change."
Erina gasped dramatically. "You're embracing it?! You're unstoppable!"
"…I am bread."
Erina nearly tripped. "Stop— I can't— HAHAHA—"
Her laughter echoed again through the hallway as they walked back to class.
And for just that moment —
Arleyong forgot the cold steel walls, the sterile lights, the silence of her cage.
The final bell rang, echoing through the hallways like a sigh of relief.
"Ho, ho! Finally, it's over!" Erina stretched her arms dramatically, her bag slung lazily over one shoulder. "Tomorrow's Saturday! No more homework, no more brain cells dying in math class."
She turned to Arleyong, grinning. "Oh, Arleyong! You're coming with us, right? You remember the conversation between my mom and yours — that you're gonna stay at my place?"
Arleyong blinked once, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Yeah…"
"Good! At least you remember it." Erina huffed proudly. "Alright, let's not waste time then. Mom's waiting!"
Before Arleyong could respond, Erina grabbed her hand and started pulling her along.
Arleyong glanced down at their joined hands — soft, warm, unfamiliar. For a moment, she didn't move, just stared as the faint evening light hit Erina's hair. Then, wordlessly, she followed.
Outside, the sky was painted in a quiet mix of violet and orange. Students rushed past them, laughing and shouting about weekend plans. But for Arleyong, everything felt oddly distant — like the world had slowed down just a little.
Erina swung their hands playfully as they walked. "You know, Mom's super excited to meet you. She said she's been preparing your room all morning. Probably went overboard again."
Arleyong tilted her head. "Preparing… my room?"
"Yeah! Like, pillow mountain levels of overboard."
"…I see."
Erina laughed. "You'll see what I mean when we get there."
Arleyong said nothing, but her fingers twitched slightly in Erina's grasp — not trying to pull away, just… testing the feeling.
It was warm.
Unfamiliar.
But not unpleasant.
Erina practically skipped across the parking lot, still holding Arleyong's hand. The golden sunset reflected off the rows of cars, painting everything in warm light.
"Mom!" she called out, spotting a small silver car near the exit. A woman with gentle eyes waved from the driver's seat.
"Erina! And this must be Arleyong!" her mother said cheerfully as she rolled down the window. "Come on, hop in, girls. We'll get stuck in traffic if we wait too long."
Erina opened the back door and pushed Arleyong in first before sliding in beside her.
"Mom, she actually remembered! I told you she's not some quiet robot like everyone says!" Erina said with a teasing grin, nudging Arleyong's arm.
Arleyong blinked, confused. "Robot?"
Her tone was serious, almost offended, which made Erina's mom laugh softly. "Don't take her too seriously, dear. She says things she doesn't even mean half the time."
"I mean everything," Erina said, crossing her arms with a proud smirk.
Arleyong tilted her head slightly, watching her reflection in the window as the car started moving. "Then… I'm not a robot."
"That's the spirit," Erina said, grinning.
As they drove through the streets of Lunaria, the scenery shifted — tall buildings gave way to quiet neighborhoods lined with trees and small gardens.
Erina's mom glanced at Arleyong through the rearview mirror. "So, Arleyong dear, is it your first time staying over with a friend?"
Arleyong hesitated. "Yes…"
"Well, don't worry. You're welcome anytime. Think of our house as yours too, alright?"
Arleyong's eyes flickered for a second, as if unsure how to respond. "Alright…"
Erina smiled, leaning closer to her. "See? Told you she's nice."
"I didn't doubt it," Arleyong murmured quietly, her gaze still fixed outside the window.
The world rolled by in a blur of lights and shadows — and for the first time, the silence inside a moving car didn't feel cold. It felt… peaceful.
The car slowed to a stop in front of a modest, two-storey house. It wasn't fancy — the paint slightly faded, a small garden by the porch with uneven flowers and a wind chime that sang quietly in the evening breeze.
"Here we are!" Erina's mom said, turning off the engine. "Not a mansion, but it's home."
Erina jumped out first, stretching her arms toward the dimming sky. "Ahhh, freedom!" she shouted dramatically.
Arleyong stepped out slowly, her silver hair catching the porch light. She looked around — the smell of soil, the sound of a barking dog from somewhere down the street, the faint warmth leaking from the house's open door. Everything felt… different. Too human.
"Come on, Arleyong!" Erina called. "You're standing like a statue again."
Arleyong blinked, following quietly.
Inside, the house was small but cozy. The walls were filled with framed photos — Erina as a child, messy-haired and smiling, family dinners, birthday cakes, and one picture of her mother holding a baby. Laughter was frozen inside those frames — something Arleyong couldn't quite understand.
Erina's mom smiled warmly. "You can put your bag here, dear. Erina, show her your room."
"Got it!" Erina grabbed Arleyong's hand again, dragging her upstairs. "Come on, guest of honor!"
Arleyong let herself be pulled along — her blank expression never changing.
Erina's room was bright, cluttered, and alive. Posters of anime characters filled the walls, a small desk buried under notebooks and pens, a bed covered in mismatched pillows.
"Ta-daaa~! Welcome to my kingdom!" Erina said, spinning dramatically.
Arleyong stood by the doorway, scanning every corner silently. "It's… messy."
"Hey! It's called organized chaos!" Erina puffed her cheeks, then grinned. "You can sleep here. I'll take the futon."
Arleyong lowered her gaze to the bed — soft, warm, human. Something she never had in the lab. "It's fine," she murmured. "I can sleep on the floor."
Erina frowned. "What? No way! You're my guest."
"I don't mind."
"I do," Erina said firmly. "You're not some experiment or robot or whatever. You're a person."
That word — person — echoed inside Arleyong's head.
It didn't feel like something that belonged to her.
She didn't reply.
Erina scratched her head awkwardly. "Okay, fine, we'll argue later. Come down — dinner's ready!"
Downstairs, the smell of warm curry filled the air. Erina's mother hummed softly as she set the table.
"Here you go, dear," she said kindly, passing a plate to Arleyong. "Don't be shy, eat as much as you like."
Arleyong sat stiffly at the table, staring at the meal. The aroma was strange — comforting yet unfamiliar. She lifted her spoon slowly, taking a small bite.
Something warm spread through her mouth. Something real.
Erina smiled. "Good, right?"
Arleyong paused, then nodded slightly. "…Yes."
It was the first meal that didn't taste like metal or medicine.
The first table that didn't feel like a cage.
For a moment — a brief, fleeting heartbeat — she almost felt something.
Not happiness. Not comfort.
Just… warmth.
And for Arleyong, that was already more than she'd ever known.
The clinking of spoons and faint hum of the ceiling fan filled the small dining room. The curry's scent wrapped the air with soft spice, the kind that lingered on your tongue and made the room feel alive.
Erina was halfway through her plate already. "Mmm! Mom, this is so good! You added the extra sauce again, right?"
Her mother chuckled. "You noticed, huh? Of course. You eat like a growing bear."
Erina puffed her cheeks. "Hey, rude!"
Arleyong sat quietly between their laughter, holding her spoon carefully. She watched the steam rise from her plate, then slowly took another small bite.
"Arleyong, dear," Erina's mother said gently, "you like curry, don't you?"
Arleyong froze for half a second — the kind of pause that came not from fear, but from not knowing how to answer a question like that.
"…I don't know," she said softly.
Erina blinked, mouth still full of rice. "What do you mean 'don't know'? It's either yummy or not yummy."
"I've never eaten this before," Arleyong murmured, her tone steady, almost too calm. "So I don't know how to compare it."
The room fell silent for a moment. Only the faint tick of the wall clock filled the gap.
Erina's mom smiled kindly. "Well… I'm glad your first time is here, then. Eat as much as you want, okay?"
Arleyong looked down at her plate again, quietly nodding. "Okay…"
Erina's mom leaned on her elbows, curious. "So, Arleyong—where are your parents from? You look a bit different, dear. Such beautiful silver hair."
Arleyong's spoon stopped halfway to her mouth. Her eyes, usually calm and unreadable, flickered slightly — almost like a glitch in a screen.
"I don't have parents," she said flatly.
The air seemed to thin for a second. Erina's mother's smile faltered, just a little.
"Oh… I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine," Arleyong interrupted softly. "It's just… how it is."
Erina glanced sideways at her, frowning a little but saying nothing. She wanted to ask — what happened? who raised you? — but something about Arleyong's eyes told her not to.
Instead, she broke the silence with a small, forced laugh. "Well! That means more curry for you, Bread Girl. Mom's cooking cures everything."
Arleyong blinked. "…Cures what?"
Erina grinned. "Sadness. Loneliness. Bad grades. Maybe even your robot heart."
"Robot heart?" Arleyong tilted her head.
"Mm-hm. You'll see. My mom's curry is magic."
Arleyong didn't smile — she couldn't — but she looked at Erina for a few seconds longer than usual. Something flickered in her gaze — a faint light, like curiosity being reborn.
"…I'll test that," she said quietly.
Erina's mom laughed. "Now that's the spirit."
The dinner continued — simple, warm, human.
To them, it was just a meal.
But to Arleyong… it was the first time she ever felt what "home" might taste like.
The sound of clattering dishes echoed softly in the kitchen.
Erina rolled up her sleeves and started stacking plates into the sink. "Okay, team dish duty, let's go!" she announced.
Her mom chuckled. "Team? You're the only one washing, dear."
"Exactly! A one-woman army!" Erina replied proudly, flicking some soap bubbles into the air.
Arleyong stood nearby, unsure what to do. She watched as Erina's mom wiped the table, moving with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before.
Then, hesitantly, Arleyong picked up one of the empty glasses.
"…Where should I put this?"
Erina's mom turned, pleasantly surprised. "Oh, you don't have to help, dear. You're a guest."
"I don't mind," Arleyong said, her tone calm and steady. "It's… fine."
Her hands moved carefully, as if afraid she might break something — though her movements were precise, controlled. The glass clinked gently against another as she placed it beside the sink.
Erina peeked over her shoulder with a grin. "Whoa, look at you, Bread Girl actually helping. Are you sure you're not secretly a maid bot?"
Arleyong blinked. "…Do maids eat curry?"
Erina froze. "…Okay, fair point."
Her mom laughed quietly at the exchange. "You two get along better than I expected."
"We're besties now," Erina said confidently, pointing her soapy finger at Arleyong. "Right?"
Arleyong tilted her head, eyes blank. "…What is a bestie?"
Erina nearly dropped the sponge. "Wait, seriously?"
"I've never heard it before."
Erina turned to her mom dramatically. "She doesn't know what a bestie is! This is a national emergency!"
Her mother smiled. "Then teach her, dear."
"Gladly." Erina turned back to Arleyong with mock seriousness. "A bestie is… like your most trusted friend. The person you share secrets, snacks, and memes with. You can argue, tease, or punch them, but you still care about them anyway."
Arleyong's eyes lowered slightly, processing every word. "Care…" she repeated, quietly.
"Yeah." Erina smiled softly now, her tone less playful. "Basically… someone who stays."
The silence that followed was small but heavy.
Arleyong looked down at her reflection in the sink water — the faint shimmer of silver eyes staring back at her.
Someone who stays.
It was a simple phrase. But to her, it sounded like a dream.
Erina's mom broke the silence gently. "Alright, girls. Enough philosophy at the sink. Go wash up and get ready for bed, okay?"
"Roger that!" Erina said cheerfully, drying her hands. "C'mon, Arleyong. Upstairs!"
Arleyong nodded and followed, her steps quiet against the wooden floor.
The room was dim, lit only by the faint moonlight seeping through the curtains.
Erina was already asleep, curled under her blanket, her breathing soft and steady — a rhythm that filled the quiet space with warmth.
Arleyong sat at the edge of her futon, knees drawn close, her silver hair faintly glowing under the pale light. The word care still echoed in her mind, repeating like a whisper from long ago.
Someone who stays.
Her eyes drifted toward Erina's sleeping face — peaceful, unguarded, innocent. It reminded her of someone else.
Kikyo.
A small girl with short brown hair and a bright smile.
The memory flickered — faint, blurred at the edges — but it still burned inside her like an old scar.
She remembered laughter under the cherry trees. The sound of two children chasing butterflies, the warmth of small hands holding hers.
She remembered what happiness felt like — the feeling of belonging, of being seen.
And she remembered the day it all ended.
The smell of smoke.
The scream that never stopped echoing in her head.
The bright red light — blinding, searing — when the experiment went wrong.
"Kikyo…" she whispered, her voice almost soundless. "I… cared for you."
The word care trembled on her lips like something sacred, fragile, half-forgotten.
But even as she said it, her chest felt hollow — no heartbeat of emotion, no tears, only silence.
The part of her that once felt love was gone.
She looked down at her hand — the same hand that once held Kikyo's.
It was steady, pale, lifeless.
No matter how tight she clenched it, the warmth never came back.
Her gaze returned to Erina — sleeping peacefully, unaware of the storm behind those silver eyes.
"…Care," she murmured again, this time softer. "What does it feel like now?"
The night air brushed through the window, stirring her hair. The city outside hummed faintly — cars, wind, the sound of distant life.
Arleyong lay down beside her futon, facing the ceiling. The moonlight traced along her face, reflecting faintly in her cold, glasslike eyes.
For a long while, she just stared at nothing, listening to Erina's breathing — the only sound that made the silence bearable.
And somewhere deep inside her — beneath all the scars, all the numbness — something small began to move.
Not warmth. Not sadness.
Just… a pulse.
A tiny echo of the girl she used to be.