Morning rush hour. The MRT platform is packed with commuters—students, office workers, everyone shuffling toward the yellow line as the next train approaches.
Lang's eyes dart to the screen.
The digital sign overhead blinks, Next Train: 2 Minutes.
Then his eyes glance left and right. A whole crowd.
"I'm gonna have to squeeze again… I fucking hate this. Why do we all have to start at the same time?" he narrates silently, in his thoughts.
Shoulders brush, feet shuffle, conversations blur into white noise. He notices, near the edge of the platform, a girl in her early twenties stands clutching her backpack straps. She's dressed casually—long baggy pants, an oversized pastel sweater with a small bear print on the chest, a baseball cap pulled low. Her short, wavy brown hair peeks out from beneath it, and her hazel eyes dart nervously between her phone and the approaching train.
The train pulls in with a mechanical hiss. Doors slide open. The crowd surges forward.
She moves with them… then someone rushing past clips her shoulder hard. Her backpack slides off. Hits the ground. The zipper, not fully closed, splits open. Notebooks. Pens. A water bottle. A small pouch. Everything scatters across the platform in a chaotic sprawl, the water bottle rolling dangerously close to the yellow line.
"Ah—" she gasps, dropping to a crouch immediately, hands scrambling to gather her things.
People step around her. Some glance down but no one stops. The train doors are still open. There's maybe ten seconds left before they close.
Lang approaches the train doors.
He then glances back once at the girl, then back at the train. The faces of strangers packed like sardines, looking at their phones, some looking at him expressionless, maybe curious. A single spot just enough for him to squeeze in awaits.
He sighs, "Fuck it."
He turns back around and walks over to her, helping her pick up the fallen contents of her backpack, Pens, Pencils, a Water Bottle and…
"Snacks? What the hell?" he thought to himself.
"Uh… here." he said, as he approached her with all the items in his arms, offering it back to her.
Meanwhile, the sound of the platform doors beep, the train doors closed now, and off it goes.
The girl looks up, startled—her hands frozen mid-reach for a notebook. Her hazel eyes widen in surprise as she registers Lang standing there, arms full of her scattered belongings. For a moment, she just blinks at him. Then her gaze darts past his shoulder to the train pulling away from the platform, accelerating into the tunnel with a low mechanical whine.
Her expression crumbles into guilt.
"Oh no—" She scrambles to her feet, cheeks flushing. "Did you just—did you miss your train because of me?"
She reaches for the items in his arms quickly, carefully, like she's afraid of taking up any more of his time. Her fingers brush against the water bottle, the pens, and then she pauses when she sees the snacks—a packet of salmon skin crisps and a small pack of Pocky sticking out from the pile.
She lets out a soft, embarrassed laugh despite herself. "I—uh, I know how that looks." she takes everything from him, cradling it all against her chest. "I get hungry easily, okay? Don't judge."
The platform is already refilling with the next wave of commuters.
Lang looks over at the screen again.
The digital sign overhead updates: Next Train: 4 Minutes.
She looks back at Lang, guilt still written across her face. "I'm really sorry. Really. You missed your train because of me." she bites her lip, glancing at the tracks, then back at him. "I owe you one. Like, seriously."
She shifts her weight, trying to shove everything back into her backpack without dropping anything again. One of the pens slips, and she catches it awkwardly, letting out a frustrated huff.
"Okay, clearly I'm a mess today." she mutters, mostly to herself, before looking up at him again with a sheepish smile. "Thank you, though. You didn't have to do that."
She pauses, then adds—quieter, more sincere—"Most people didn't even look twice."
"It's fine." he replies, standing beside her. "It was my choice, you don't have anything to apologize for."
He glances at her for a moment.
"Huh… she's kinda… cute?"
He adverts his eyes but keeping composed as to not show any outward signs.
"Stop... you can't be serious. You know nothing about her yet. Don't be stupid."
After a moment of quiet contemplation he turns his head to face her, "Hmm… but if you really want to owe me one. You can share some snacks with me." he suggests playfully to her, smiling just slightly.
She blinks at him, caught off guard by the suggestion.
"Just kidding." he immediately follows up, afraid the joke might miss and make things awkward. "We can't eat in the train anyway."
Her expression shifts into something lighter, warmer. A small laugh escapes her, genuine and unguarded.
"Uh… okay, you got me for a second there." she says, grinning now. She zips up her backpack properly this time, slinging it over both shoulders. "But hey, noted. If we ever end up somewhere we can eat, the salmon skin crisps are all yours."
She adjusts the strap of her bag, glancing at the tracks as the rumble of the approaching train begins to build in the distance. Then she looks back at him, her smile settling into something softer, more curious.
"I'm Mayrin, by the way. Mayrin Lim." She extends a hand—a little formal, but there's something earnest about the gesture.
The train pulls into the station, brakes hissing as it slows. The doors align with the platform markings.
"And you are…?" she prompts gently, still holding out her hand. Her hazel eyes are bright, focused entirely on him now.
The crowd begins to shift around them, preparing to board. The doors slide open with a mechanical chime.
He looks at her for a moment, as if contemplating what planet she must have come from. "Lang…" he mutters, reaching for her hand and shaking it.
"Lang Enyl. Now come on, we don't want to miss this one either do we?" He walks up to the platform.
"Right, yes, let's not make it two for two." she says quickly, hurrying after him.
They both enter the train.
Lang squeezing into the corner right by the door.
Mayrin standing right in-front of him.
It's tight—rush hour tight—they're standing close, shoulders nearly brushing. She grabs onto the handle bar by the door with one hand, her other clutching the strap of her backpack. The train lurches forward, and she sways slightly with the motion, adjusting her footing.
For a moment, she's quiet—just catching her breath, watching the tunnel walls blur past the window. Then she glances at him, tilting her head slightly.
"Lang Enyl…" she repeats, testing the name softly. "That's a cool name. Sounds like… I dunno, a character from a sci-fi novel or something."
He scoffs, "Really? I think it sounds weird."
"Not at all… it's… cool."
"That didn't sound very convincing."
"It just is okay?"
"Alright alright… whatever you say."
She grins, tucking a strand of wavy brown hair behind her ear.
"So, Lang—first day at Serenevale too, I'm guessing? Or are you one of those super prepared seniors who just happens to be on the same train as the freshies?" Her tone is light, teasing, but there's genuine curiosity beneath it.
The train rocks gently as it picks up speed. A few more stops until Promenade.
"Quite the assumption you made. I could just be a good Samaritan, on his way to work, saw a cute girl in need of help, and did my part before continuing on with my day." He says in a half-joking tone.
"How do you know for sure I'm heading to Serenvale?" he asks her rhetorically.
She raises an eyebrow, a hint of playful challenge creeping in, "Right… you're definitely not going to Serenevale and just happened to be on this train at this exact time, helping random cute girls…"
"Because, you know—pretty convenient timing if you ask me." she answers with a slight hint of sarcasm.
The automated voice overhead announces, "Next station: Promenade."
Mayrin's eyes flick to the speaker, then back to Lang. Her smile turns knowing.
"Let's see then, if you get off the same stop as me… and we walk the same direction… it'll all just be a happy little coincidence huh?"
Just then the MRT wobbles, causing people in the already packed train to stumble slightly pushing each other, someone bumps into the back of Mayrin.
Mayrin's breath catches—a sharp, startled inhale—as she's suddenly pushed forward, her hands instinctively reaching out to brace herself. One lands flat against Lang's chest, the other gripping his shoulder for balance.
His eyes widening slightly at the accident.
Her face is inches from his now. Close enough that he can see the faint dusting of freckles across her nose, the way her hazel eyes flicker with surprise and embarrassment all at once.
"Oh my god—" she starts, voice barely above a whisper, cheeks flushing immediately. "I'm so sorry, I didn't—"
The train steadies.
The person behind her shifts back slightly, muttering a quick "paiseh, paiseh" before turning away.
Mayrin doesn't move right away. She's frozen there for half a second longer than necessary—her palm still pressed against his chest, feeling the solid warmth beneath his shirt, the slight rise and fall of his breathing. Her eyes dart up to meet his, wide and flustered.
Then she pulls back quickly, almost stumbling in the opposite direction before catching herself on the bar.
"Sorry…" she repeats, laughing nervously now, one hand rubbing the back of her neck. "That was—wow, okay. Smooth, Mayrin. Real smooth."
She's trying to play it off, but the pink in her cheeks hasn't faded. She glances at him, then away, then back again—like she's not quite sure where to look.
"Um—" She clears her throat, clearly trying to redirect, her blush lingering.
Lang chuckles slightly offering a gentle smile, "Relax… it was an accident." he takes a breath to calm himself down.
"Fuck that was close… don't fall in love so easily you dumbfuck."
"I mean… what? We in some sort of romance novel? Are we gonna fall in love at first sight or something?" he titters. "Such things rarely… if ever exist." he mutters.
Mayrin blinks at him for a moment—caught somewhere between amusement and something else she doesn't quite name. Then she lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head.
"Right, right. No romance novel here," she says, adjusting her backpack straps. "Just two strangers who happened to miss a train, share a ride, and are coincidentally heading to the same university on the same day." She glances at him sideways, a playful glint in her eyes. "Totally normal. Happens all the time."
The train slows to a stop. The beeps signal the doors opening.
Lang steps out onto the platform, she follows.
"You still don't know for sure where I'm going." Lang retorts.
"Seriously?" Mayrin says unamused.
The platform is bustling now—students everywhere, some in groups, some alone, all moving with that first-day mix of excitement and nerves. The overhead signs point toward the escalators leading up to street level, where the Serenevale campus gates are visible in the distance.
Mayrin slows her pace slightly as they near the escalators, like she's not quite ready for the conversation to end yet.
Then, from somewhere ahead near the ticket gates, a voice calls out—bright, energetic, unmistakably loud.
"MAYRIN! OI, MAYRIN!"
Mayrin's head snaps up. Her expression shifts instantly—surprise, then recognition, then a soft groan mixed with affection.
Two girls are waving at her from near the exit gates. One of them—dressed in bold cyan and pink, hair bouncing as she waves frantically—is practically jumping.
The other stands beside her, calmer, dressed in neutral earth tones, offering a small, knowing smile.
Mayrin sighs, but she's smiling now. "Oh no. That's... that's my friends."
She glances back at Lang, hesitating for just a beat. "I, um—guess this is where we part ways?"
There's something in her tone—reluctance, maybe. Like she's hoping he'll say something that keeps the moment going just a little longer.
But she doesn't push it. Instead, she takes a half-step back, still facing him.
"Thanks again, Lang. For... you know." Her smile softens, becomes more genuine. "Hope I see you around?"
The girl in cyan—is still waving, now making exaggerated gestures like she's guiding a plane to land.
The quieter one—just watches, arms folded loosely, her gaze flicking between Mayrin and Lang with quiet curiosity.
He looks at the direction of her friends. "Yea... see you around... if I do."
He turns to leave but halts for half a second then turns back. "Oh and... 'Mayrin' isn't exactly a very common name either. Sounds like you're straight out of a Fantasy story." he gives her one more smile.
"Your welcome." he takes his leave walking towards the gantry.
Mayrin's eyes widen slightly at his words. Then her lips part into a surprised smile—soft, genuine, touched by something she wasn't expecting.
"A fantasy story... huh?" she murmurs to herself, watching him walk away. Her fingers toy with the strap of her backpack, and for a moment, she just stands there, rooted to the spot.
Then her friend's voice cuts through again.
"MAYRIN! Girl, come on lah! We're gonna be late!"
Mayrin blinks, shaking herself out of whatever moment she'd been caught in. She glances back once more—Lang is already at the gantry, tapping his card, moving through with that same calm, unhurried composure.
She exhales softly, then turns and jogs toward her friends, tapping her own card and exiting through the gantry.
Her loud friend practically tackles her with a grin, linking arms immediately. She's shorter than Mayrin, energetic and expressive, dressed in a pastel green top with bold pink accents. Her brown eyes are bright with mischief.
"Ok ok so l was just telling Irene this! Hear me out ok?" Her loud—friend exclaims.
"Not again..." Irene the quieter—one, groans.
"Shut up shut up! Ok ok listen. First day, same Uni..." Her loud friend begins.
"Uh-huh... okaayy?" Mayrin replies confused.
"... First daaay... same Yuni!!!" She hops, arms spreading like she's excited. "Get it? Cause like we all got in the same Uni, and I'm Yuni?"
"Wow. Ok. Nice. You made a rhyme." Mayrin response non-chalantly but smiles and giggles.
"You're freaking crazy guurll, and I love you for it." Mayrin and Yuni share a warm hug.
"Yaayy bestiiee huugg. By the way, who was that?" Yuni asks immediately, craning her neck to look back at the gantry where Lang just disappeared into the crowd. "You know him or what?"
Irene, quieter, dressed in a simple white blouse and dark green trousers—just raises an eyebrow. Her black eyes are observant, thoughtful. She doesn't say anything yet, but there's a knowing look on her face as she glances at Mayrin.
Mayrin laughs, brushing it off. "Owh... no lah, just someone who helped me earlier. I dropped my stuff on the platform and he... yeah. He was just... nice"
"Just nice," Yuni repeats, dragging out the words like she doesn't believe a single syllable. "Okay, sure. And you're blushing because...?"
"I'm not blushing."
"You totally are."
"You seem... lighter" Irene speaks, her voice soft but steady. She tilts her head slightly, studying Mayrin's face. "That's nice."
Mayrin pauses, caught off guard by the simplicity of the observation. She smiles, a little shy now. "Yeah... maybe...? I guess I am."
Yuni tugs her forward, already moving toward the escalator. "Okay okay, we can talk about Mystery Train Guy later. First—orientation! Let's go, let's go!"
Irene follows quietly, but she glances back once at the gantry, as if trying to catch a glimpse of the stranger who made her friend smile like that.
Lang exits the station and steps into the morning sunlight. The Serenevale University campus stretches ahead—modern buildings with glass facades, rooftop gardens visible even from here, pathways lined with trees. Students are streaming through the main gates, some alone, some in groups.
He takes a breath, adjusting the strap of his bag.
"First day... back to studies... gotta make the best of it this time."
He starts walking toward the gates.
The campus is alive with energy—banners welcoming new students, orientation staff in brightly colored shirts holding clipboards, clusters of freshmen nervously checking maps on their phones.
Lang moves through it all with quiet purpose, scanning the area. Somewhere ahead, there's supposed to be an assembly point for orientation groups.
He's looking for the signs when—
"Eh, excuse me?"
A voice. Female. Confident, with a slight teasing lilt to it.
Lang turns.
Standing a few feet away is a girl around his age—maybe mid-twenties. Long dark brown hair tied up in a messy ponytail, streaks of purple dyed through it. Round glasses perched on her nose, more for style than necessity. She's wearing a simple black t-shirt, denim shorts, and a silver cross necklace that catches the light.
Her dark brown eyes meet his, sharp and curious.
She tilts her head slightly, one hand on her hip. "You look like you know where you're going. Any chance you're heading to orientation too, or are you just here to brood in silence?"
There's a smirk playing at the corner of her lips—playful, challenging.
"Another cute girl... did I luck out or something...? Nothing good happens without condition. There's some bad juju going on... I just know it."
"Brood— in silence?" he repeats back confused to her, "I'm not sure what that means... but it's a hell of a way to make a first impression on someone... but for the record I do know where I'm going, and yes it's the Orientation area." he responds un-rattled, calm and studious.
Her smirk widens slightly at his response, like she just won some invisible point in a game only she's keeping score of.
"Good," she says, falling into step beside him without waiting for an invitation. "Then you won't mind if I tag along, right? Because I definitely don't know where I'm going, and you seem like the responsible type who actually reads the campus map."
She adjusts the strap of her small messenger bag, glancing at him sideways with a look that's equal parts amusement and assessment.
"And for the record," she adds, her tone light but deliberate, "that was the point. First impressions should be memorable. Otherwise, what's the point, right?"
She doesn't wait for him to respond before continuing. "I'm Cirin, by the way. Law. Switched from Marketing because I got bored." She says it casually, like changing majors is as simple as switching coffee orders. "You?"
"Lang... Enyl, Physics, eventually Astrophysics." he responds.
"Oooo... Lang, Enyl, Physics." she teasingly repeats with, tittering at the end. "Not gonna lie. You got this whole 'Mysterious Stranger' vibe going Lang. Reaaal classy."
He scoffs, "Hey, don't dig on the 'Mysterious Stranger' thingy. I like Mark Twain."
"Mark Twain, huh?" She grins, clearly entertained. "Didn't peg you for a literature guy. Physicsand classics? Interesting combo, Lang Enyl." She pronounces his full name deliberately, like she's testing how it sounds.
As they walk, the orientation area comes into view ahead—a large open courtyard with groups of students already gathering, orientation staff in bright yellow shirts directing people toward different sections.
He stops walking once their nicely blended in with the crowd, "You mentioned you changed majors? So easily? Most people wouldn't dare... it'd be just a waste of time to do that wouldn't it? People rather complete the course and at least get a cert before they graduate."
His eyes then twitch, catching the shine of the sunlight reflecting off her cross necklace.
Cirin notices the glint and shifts slightly, the cross necklace settling back against her shirt. She doesn't apologize—just adjusts it absently, like it's a habit.
Then her expression shifts—still relaxed, but with a sharper edge now, like he just activated a topic she actually cares about.
"Waste of time?" she echoes, tilting her head. "Only if you think time spent figuring out what you actually want is wasted. Marketing was safe. Predictable. My parents loved it—stable career, good prospects, blah blah blah." She waves a hand dismissively. "But I was falling asleep in lectures. Literally. So I switched to Law because at least being a prosecutor and arguing for a living sounded more interesting than selling people shit they don't need."
She pauses, studying him for a moment, her dark eyes sharp behind the round glasses.
"Besides," she adds, voice a little softer but no less direct, "if you're gonna spend years doing something, shouldn't it at least make you feel alive? Or are we supposed to just... go through the motions because it's 'practical'?"
There's a challenge in her tone—not aggressive, but probing. Like she's genuinely curious.
He taps his lips with his finger in thought, "Yea... you have a point. I wasn't saying you should do what's practical or what's deemed 'good'." his eyes flick briefly to the surroundings, "I wouldn't like that either... I'd prefer doing what I want to do too."
Around them, the crowd thickens as more students funnel toward the orientation area. Staff members with clipboards are starting to call out instructions, directing people toward different sections based on faculty.
Cirin's expression shifts—just slightly. The playful edge softens into something more genuine, like she just registered that Lang isn't just giving her surface-level answers.
"Okay, see—that I respect," she says, nodding slowly. "Most people would've just said 'yeah, whatever pays the bills' or given me some safe, rehearsed answer. But you actually mean it."
Cirin glances around, then back at Lang. "So... Astrophysics. Big dreams, I'm guessing? NASA? Or are you keeping that part mysterious too?"
She's leaning slightly forward now, genuinely interested.
He folds his arms taking a deep breathe. "Big dreams? Maybe... it's either NASA or the Planetary Society."
She adjusts her glasses, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Aiming high. I like that. At least you know what you want."
There's a pause—comfortable, not awkward. She's still looking at him, but it's less like she's analyzing and more like she's... filing him away. Deciding he's worth remembering.
Then she glances around at the growing crowd and lets out a small huff. "Alright, so where exactly in this chaos are we supposed to go? Because everyone's just standing around like lost sheep, and I'm not about to wander aimlessly for the next twenty minutes."
Just as she finishes speaking, an orientation staff member—wearing a bright yellow shirt with "SERENEVALE ORIENTATION CREW" printed across the front—steps onto a small raised platform near the center of the courtyard. She's holding a megaphone.
"GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE! Welcome to Serenevale University!"
The crowd quiets down slightly, though scattered conversations continue.
"In a moment, we'll be dividing you into orientation groups! Please gather near the faculty banners corresponding to your program—Science, Arts, Business, Law, and so on. Once you're there, we'll assign you to smaller groups for today's activities!"
Cirin glances at Lang, one eyebrow raised. "Guess that's our cue."
She starts walking toward the Science and Law banners, which are set up near each other on the left side of the courtyard. She doesn't check if he's following—just assumes he will.
As they weave through the crowd, Cirin speaks over her shoulder. "So, Physics guy—you always this serious, or do you loosen up after the first coffee of the day?"
Her tone is light, teasing, but there's an undercurrent of curiosity.
"I don't drink coffee, for some reason my body rejects it. I either get a nasty tummy ache or a migraine. I'm more of a Milo guy."
Cirin raises an eyebrow, half-amused. "Milo? What are you, twelve?" But there's no bite to it—just light teasing. "Alright, fair enough. At least you're honest about it."
Lang scans the courtyard full of freshies.
"They all look to be a little younger than me... damn. I hate being old."
Near the Psychology banner, three girls stand together.
Mayrin is adjusting her baseball cap, scanning the crowd with a mix of nerves and excitement. Yuni is chattering animatedly beside her, gesturing wildly as she talks. Irene stands quietly on Mayrin's other side, arms folded loosely, observing the scene with calm interest.
Yuni suddenly grabs Mayrin's arm. "There'so many people sia. This is gonna be fun."
Mayrin laughs softly, nodding. "Yeah... I hope so."
But her eyes are still drifting across the crowd—almost unconsciously—like she's looking for someone.
Irene notices. She doesn't say anything. Just watches.
Cirin stops, turning to face Lang with a crooked smile. "Alright, Physics. Looks like we're in adjacent faculties. Who knows—maybe we'll end up in the same group."
She tilts her head slightly, studying him one more time. "That wouldn't be the worst thing, would it?"
He nods in agreement with her suggestion. "Just stay close then, I think anyone can mingle with anyone. Doesn't have to be Law with Law, or Science with Science."
He continues scanning the courtyard, observing the groups, the staff, the chaos. Amongst it, his eyes come to rest on a particular person, to her... Mayrin. Their eyes, as if drawn to one another lock for that moment.
Mayrin is half-listening to Yuni's excited chatter when something pulls her attention away—an instinct, maybe. A feeling.
She glances up, scanning the crowd almost absently.
And then she sees him.
Lang.
Standing near the Science banner, maybe thirty meters away. He's looking directly at her.
Her breath catches—just for a second. Her hazel eyes widen slightly in recognition, surprise flickering across her face before softening into something warmer.
A small, genuine smile tugs at her lips.
She doesn't wave. Doesn't call out. Just... looks at him. Like she's confirming he's real, that the train ride wasn't some fleeting, forgettable moment.
Yuni notices immediately.
"Eh? Mayrin, what you looking at?" Yuni turns to follow her gaze, eyes narrowing as she scans the crowd. Then she spots Lang. Her expression lights up with instant recognition and mischief.
"Ohhh," Yuni drags out the sound, grinning wide. "That's Train Guy, right? The one who helped you?" She nudges Mayrin with her elbow, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper that's still way too loud. "Ooohuhu, he's hereeee. And he's looking at you."
Mayrin's cheeks flush slightly. "Yuni, stop—"
"What? I'm just saying!" Yuni is already waving her hand in the air like she's about to call out to him.
Mayrin grabs her arm quickly. "Don't. Don't make it weird."
Irene, who's been quiet this whole time, finally speaks. Her voice is calm, thoughtful. "He's standing with someone."
Mayrin's gaze shifts slightly—and she notices the girl standing beside Lang. Long ponytail with purple streaks, round glasses, confident posture. She's looking in their direction too now, clearly aware that Lang's attention is elsewhere.
Mayrin's smile falters—just a fraction.
Yuni, oblivious to the shift, grins even wider. "Eh, let's go say hi! Why not? You already met him this morning anyway."
Mayrin hesitates. "I don't know... he's with his friend, and—"
"Aiyah, don't overthink!" Yuni is already tugging on Mayrin's arm, pulling her forward a step.
Irene doesn't move yet. She's watching Mayrin's face carefully, reading the hesitation.
Then, quietly, she says, "If you want to go, we'll go with you."
Mayrin looks at Irene, then at Yuni—who's practically vibrating with energy—and then back across the courtyard at Lang.
Their eyes are still locked.
Cirin notices the shift. She glances at Lang, then back at the girl he's staring at—the one in the baseball cap and oversized sweater, standing with two other girls near the Psychology banner.
Cirin's expression shifts into something unreadable for a moment. Then she smirks, leaning slightly closer to Lang.
"Friend of yours?" she asks, tone casual but probing.
Before Lang can answer, the orientation staff member on the platform raises the megaphone again.
"Alright, everyone! Let's start forming groups! If you see people near you, go ahead and gather in circles of 5 to 7! Don't be shy—introduce yourselves!"
The courtyard erupts into motion. Students start shuffling, clustering together, some awkwardly, some eagerly.
Cirin glances back at the girl across the way—Mayrin—who's now being pulled forward by her energetic friend.
Cirin tilts her head, amused. "Looks like they're coming over."
She crosses her arms loosely, watching the trio approach with a faint, curious smile. "This should be interesting."
Mayrin, Yuni, and Irene are weaving through the crowd now, heading directly toward Lang and Cirin.
Yuni is leading the charge, grinning like this is the most exciting thing that's happened all day. Irene follows quietly, observant as always. Mayrin is in the middle, her expression somewhere between nervous and hopeful.
They stop a few feet away.
Yuni is the first to speak, bright and shameless. "Eh, hi! You're the guy from the MRT, right? The one who helped Mayrin?"
Mayrin shoots Yuni a look—Really? Just like that?—but doesn't stop her.
Cirin raises an eyebrow, glancing at Lang with renewed interest. "Oh, that's how you two met." Her smirk deepens. "Good Samaritan, huh?"
Mayrin looks at Lang, a small, slightly sheepish smile on her face. "Hi again."
Lang stares at Mayrin for a second too long. Then he glances at Irene, Yuni and Cirin. Looking towards the direction of the speaker. He covers his mouth, engaging his thought.
"First day... and already surrounded by three girls... is this a blessing?... Or an Omen?"
He looks back at the three of them, "I think you have the wrong guy, definitely not me." he holds his hands up in mock surrender.
Lowering his hands, he chuckles lightly, "Sorry, bad joke... yea, hi again." he smiles. "Coincidence... huh?"
He clears his throat to introduce himself to Yuni and Irene. "I'm Lang Enyl." He gestures to Cirin, "This here is my uh... girl-who-followed-me-because-she-was-lost friend, Cirin.... Cirin... uh..." he whispers to her, "What was your last name again?"