Morning traffic had thinned into late-day leisure as Street vendors called out daily specials, café doors chiming open and shut, and petals drifting lazily from trees lining the street. Toma walked half a step ahead of Asol with her hands clasped behind her back like she owned the sidewalk.
"You know," she said, peeking sideways at him, "it's illegal to look that serious on a casual walk."
"I'm not serious?"
"You look like you're calculating the structural integrity of the pavement."
She huffed. "We're not fighting anything right now."
"Statistically speaking, that's debatable."
She pointed at him dramatically. "No statistics allowed. Remember, I'm the dumb one here."
They wandered into a small lifestyle store with glass windows full of pastel plushies and novelty trinkets. Toma immediately beelined toward a shelf stacked with oversized stuffed animals.
"Oh my god," she breathed, picking up a plush rabbit with floppy ears nearly as long as her arm. "Look at this."
Asol raised an eyebrow.
"That thing costs more than my groceries for a week."
"You don't know that."
He glanced at the tag.
"…Nope. It does."
She held the rabbit up to his face. "I think it suits you."
"Because it looks confused?"
"Because it looks like it's pretending not to care."
Asol stared at her flatly as she grinned. Before he could retort, a sharp intake of breath cut through the store.
"…Is that—"
"TOMA?!"
In seconds, three girls near the back shelves gasped in synchronized disbelief as their phones came out and another group near the register turned.
"TOMA, CAN WE TAKE A PICTURE?!"
She straightened instinctively, posture shifting from playful to polished in half a heartbeat. The change was subtle, but precise.
"Of course!" she said brightly, voice lifting into that familiar idol cadence. "But one at a time, okay?"
They crowded gently, respectful but buzzing.
"When's your next collaboration stream with Higanbana Hikari?!" one asked breathlessly.
"Are you doing another duet?!" another chimed in.
"Is it true there's a solo concert next month?!"
Toma laughed lightly, hands clasped.
"Wow, so many questions! One at a time~ The collab stream is still in discussion, but Hikari and I have been talking! And yes— there will be a solo concert announcement soon."
The squeals nearly shook the display racks.
Asol stepped back slightly, giving her space. He watched her shift seamlessly— playful, confident, warm. Every fan made eye contact. Every selfie got a practiced tilt of her head. Every autograph was written carefully.
He'd seen that before with Fujiwara laughing with staff, signing posters with careful loops of ink, and leaning against him afterward, exhausted but smiling.
"Did I do okay?"
He'd always said yes.
His gaze drifted. Toma was laughing again, lightly scolding a fan for almost dropping her phone. Then the scene blurred slightly around the edges with Fujiwara laughing in the hallway, then stealing his fries, and the teasing him about his serious face. But the image shifted to her lying in a coma. His chest then tightened.
The fans eventually dispersed with bows and grateful tears. Toma waved them off until the store settled back into its normal rhythm and when she turned, she noticed his blank expression.
"…You went somewhere didn't you," she asked.
He blinked. "Huh?"
"I've seen you do that thing where your eyes go distant and your jaw tightens on numerous occasions."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
He hesitated.
"…I was just thinking about Fujiwara."
Toma tilted her head.
"You thinking about another girl while you're out with me?" she said lightly. "Bold."
He gave her a look, then she softened instantly.
"I'm kidding."
He looked down at the plush rabbit still in his hands.
"She would've loved this," he murmured. "I think she would've grabbed the ugliest ones just to mess with me."
Toma watched him carefully.
"It's not your fault," she said quietly.
Though, he didn't answer.
"There was nothing you could've done."
The words barely settled before something inside him lurched. A flash of white light, Bell launching him, and her speaking inaudibly as she smiled before she evaporated into nothingness in the white light.
His breath caught sharply. The store tilted for half a second and his knee buckled just slightly.
"Whoa—"
Toma moved before gravity could finish its job with one hand catching his wrist and the other steadying his shoulder. Despite her small frame, she held him easily.
"Easy," she said softly.
He blinked rapidly, reorienting.
"…I'm fine."
"You are not."
He exhaled.
"…Can we sit somewhere?"
"I was just going to suggest that," she replied.
...
...
...
The nearby park was quieter. Children chased pigeons near a fountain. Couples occupied shaded benches and the wind carried a gentle hum of distant traffic layered beneath rustling leaves.
They had found a bench beneath a blooming tree and sat side by side without speaking at first. The silence wasn't heavy. Just present. After a while, Asol spoke.
"…Have you ever felt helpless?"
Toms didn't answer immediately.
"I mean," he continued quietly, "if you could go back and change the one thing that caused the most suffering… would you?"
A breeze shifted her hair.
She looked straight ahead.
"I've gone through just as much pain as anyone else," she said lightly.
"That wasn't an answer?"
She smiled faintly.
"No, it wasn't."
He glanced at her as she turned toward him fully now.
"Have you ever thought about reconciling with yourself?" she asked.
He frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're still arguing with the past you that couldn't save the people you love and cared for."
His jaw tightened as she continued softly.
"You think I don't see it?"
He didn't respond.
"Despite how I look and act," she said, "I'm suppressing something too."
He blinked.
"…What."
She reached up and brushed hair away from her ears.
"For as long as I can remember," she said quietly, "I've been able to hear them."
"Hear who?"
"The world."
He stilled.
"The cries. The panic. The gunshots in distant countries. The screams. The stabbings. The bombings. Children crying. Children... Dying..."
The park sounds faded slightly.
"I used to wake up my parents at night," she continued, voice steady. "I told them there were people dying. That I could hear them."
She let out a small breath.
"They thought I was hallucinating."
Asol didn't move.
"They tried putting me through therapy. Doctors. Medication." A faint humorless smile touched her lips. "But when that didn't work… they admitted me into an asylum."
His stomach tightened.
"I was just a seven-year-old girl."
The words landed quietly.
"I didn't understand why my parents would send me away. I thought maybe if I tried harder… if I stopped hearing things… they'd take me back."
She looked down.
"They never came back."
Asol's throat tightened.
She reached behind her ear and gently pulled her hair aside.
Thin, faint scars curved behind both ears.
"I tried to cut them off," she said plainly.
He inhaled sharply.
"But they healed?"
Her voice didn't tremble.
"They always did. Compared to other children my age, I had awakened my abilities. But at the time, I didn't know. So many thought it was a curse."
Silence stretched.
"Then," she continued, "the CEO found me."
He blinked.
"He said my 'curse' wasn't madness. It was a gift. That my powers allowed me to bear witness to the pain and suffering and Chaos the world had to offer."
The wind moved softly through the leaves.
"I can still hear them," she said. "Even now through this silent peace in the park."
She glanced at him and pointed to a mother who was in her second trimester of pregnancy.
"That mother. I can hear her cries and suffering from when she was a child. She had gone through child abuse by her parents. Despite having a family of her own and a loving husband, she still bears scars of her past."
She then turns the attention to an elderly man.
"That man. He participated in a war that took much of his sanity. I could hear the voices and cries of the lives he has taken, as well as his guilt for taking those lives. Yet, he has moved on."
Then she turns the attention to Asol.
"But you. I can hear you, crying softly within. Eversince we found you bleeding out on the wet pavement under the rain."
His pulse thudded once.
"…What?"
"Your sadness," she said quietly. "It's loud..."
He looked away.
"And to answer your question," she added, voice steady, "even if I could go back and change the thing that caused me suffering… I wouldn't."
He frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I wouldn't have met the people I did," she said. "I wouldn't have found the stage. I wouldn't have met Hikari. I wouldn't have met Fujiwara. I wouldn't have met the CEO."
Her gaze softened.
"And I wouldn't have met you."
The words were simple. He stared at the ground.
"So you're saying suffering is necessary."
"No," she said immediately. "I'm saying it shaped me."
A child then laughed nearby.
"I don't want to erase my past," she continued. "I want to grow from it."
She nudged his shoulder lightly.
"So, try reconciling with yourself."
He swallowed.
"You think that's easy?"
"No," she said. "But you've survived worse."
He exhaled slowly, watching petals drift past.
"…You're stronger than you look."
She grinned faintly.
"I know."