The wind shifted gently through the park, carrying the faint sweetness of blossoms and distant laughter. Asol hadn't moved much since Toma finished speaking. The petals still drifted lazily, sunlight flickering through leaves like the world had decided to behave for once.
Toma checked her phone and her expression changed.
"Ah."
Asol then glanced at her.
"That doesn't sound good."
She made a face.
"Define good."
He waited.
"My manager," she said, holding up the phone. "said I gotta sign some last minute paperwork. Something about a sponsorship that I, myself just found out about now."
"That sounds aggressively boring. Then again, I did that to Fujiwara on multiple occasions."
"It is," she replied flatly. "But if I don't go now, she'll send a car. Or worse."
"Worse?"
"She'll come herself."
He winced.
"That sounds like a Kaiju threat."
"Exactly."
She then stood, brushing invisible dust from her skirt as Asol didn't move.
"You'll be okay?" she asked.
He raised an eyebrow.
"You're leaving me alone on a park bench, not deploying me into a war zone?"
"You say that like the city hasn't tried that before."
He almost smiled.
"I'll survive."
She studied him for half a second longer than necessary.
"Try not to overthink to yourself while I'm gone?"
"No promises."
She stepped backward once.
"Lunch still stands right?
"You're paying."
"Unbelievable."
She turned and jogged toward the sidewalk, then paused and looked over her shoulder.
"Hey."
He looked up.
"Don't run from the quiet."
She gave him a small grin and then she was gone swallowed by pedestrian traffic and city noise.
---
---
---
The park settled. Without Toma's presence, the space felt wider and lighter. Or maybe heavier. Asol leaned back against the bench and let his head rest against the wood. Children were still playing near the fountain while a dog barked in the distance, and somewhere, someone was laughing too loudly at something that probably wasn't that funny.
He then closed his eyes and peace entered his mind. Not the kind between battles, nor the kind after victory, or the kind earned by exhaustion.
But the kind that simply… existed. How long had it been since he felt that? He tried to remember, and the answer came slowly.
Middle school.
---
The arcade lights were obnoxiously bright as Bell stood at a racing cabinet with one foot up on the metal ledge like she owned the machine. Her rabbit ears twitched as she grinned at the screen.
"You're about to lose again."
"I'm analyzing the controls," he replied seriously.
She snorted.
"You've been analyzing for three rounds!"
He crossed his arms.
"That's called strategy!"
"I'd say otherwise!"
Then the race countdown began.
Three.
Two.
One.
Bell's fingers flew across the buttons and she leaned into every turn like the cabinet might actually tip over. He sat straighter, precise and calculated with his eyes tracking patterns instead of speed.
She always beat him. Not by a landslide. But enough.
"Ha!" she shouted as her car crossed the finish line first.
He exhaled through his nose.
"You oversteered!"
"And I still won."
"That's because you rely on reflex instead of discipline."
"And you rely on discipline instead of reflex."
She leaned over the cabinet and grinned.
"Which is why we make a good team."
He pretended not to smile and hid his blush out of embarrassment. They left the arcade with plastic bags filled with cheap prizes, with hers from claw machines she somehow mastered and his from tickets he earned through methodical repetition.
The sky was already dark with streetlights flickering one by one as they walked home side by side. The night air was cooler and calmer, and the city felt different after sunset.
They didn't talk much then. They didn't need to. Bell walked half a step ahead, kicking at pebbles on the sidewalk as Asol walked beside her with his hands in his pockets.
There was no dread or or looming disaster and no calculations about survival.
There were no thoughts of betrayal. He never once imagined she would betray him, and she never once imagined he would do the same.
He felt… good. Not because the girl he was with, was beautiful, but because they both felt safe with eachother even to the piint where they cluld take on the entire world themselves.
The stars were faint that night and barely visible above city haze. But Bell looked up anyway.
"You ever think about how small we are?"
"All the time."
She grinned.
"Good. Means you won't get a big ego."
"I don't have an ego."
"You absolutely do."
He rolled his eyes. She bumped his shoulder lightly.
"You'll catch up someday."
He scoffed.
"I'm not chasing you."
"Sure you aren't."
They kept walking and that was enough.
---
Asol's head shifted slightly against the bench as a breeze moved through the leaves and his eyes opened.
The sky was no longer afternoon gold.
It was evening blue. The fountain lights were on and the children were gone as streetlamps flickered to life around the park.
He blinked.
"…What?"
He sat up slowly, but his neck protested. His back felt stiff. He checked the time on his phone. He'd been asleep for hours on a public bench, in the middle of the day.
Well shit, Toma's gonna be pissed I didn't treat her to lunch...
He then stared at the darkened sky.
Was I really that tired?
Physically… maybe. But this was deeper. His mind felt… lighter and well rested. Did his body shut down because it needed it?
Or did something inside him decide—
You need to remember. Not the dark sky or the fires. Not the white light, nor the loss. But the walk. The arcade. The silence. The feeling of being safe.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Guess I needed that."