The heavy metallic door groans as it swings open, a loud creak echoing into the silence.
Aanha steps inside.
The first thing revealed: a wall plastered with newspaper clippings, magazine cut-outs, photographs, addresses, and maps. Red threads crisscross between them, weaving a tangled web of connections.
To the side, a table lies buried under a mess of high-tech computer equipment, papers, books, documents, and scattered markers. A coat rack stands in the corner—holding a long black coat, a cap, gloves, and a mask.
The dim light flickers. The only sound is the steady tick…tick…tick of a lone clock.
Aanha closes the door and sinks into her chair. Fingers fly across the keyboard, opening files, scanning folders, searching for answers.
Then—she stops.
Her eyes narrow at the computer screen. A group photo of her father and his colleagues fills the display.
She zooms in. A man's hand rests on her father's shoulder. On that hand glints a ring—the same ring she saw last night.
Her breath catches. Her body stiffens.
Aanha (shaken, whispering):No… no, no… how is this possible? Does that mean it wasn't a dream? And I've never dreamed of something so ridiculous…
(beat)
Then who is that guy, Sai? And how does he have Sarna Uncle's ring? Does he know something about Uncle Sarna?
Her mind races. She flips through the scattered documents on the table, her hands trembling.
Aanha (to herself, firm but uncertain):I have to find that guy. He's the only one who can tell me about Uncle Sarna.
Aanha pauses, clutching a file, her eyes burning with unease. A deep feeling stirs in her chest—a conviction she can't ignore.
Uncle Sarna must have known something about her father. After all, they were working on the same project… before the lab accident.
The clock ticked. Silence pressed in. Her smartwatch vibrated — 7 p.m.
She shut down the computer, killed the lights. Darkness swallowed the room. With the diary in hand, she slipped out, shut the door, reset the wooden plank and heavy box exactly as before. No trace left behind.
From the kitchen came the hiss of boiling water, the warmth of coffee. She carried the cup to her room, stood by the window. Took a sip.
A figure lingered behind a pole. A shiver pricked her neck — was he watching? He turned, walking away. The same long black coat she had seen last night.
Her eyes followed him up the hill. The cup hit the table, forgotten. She grabbed her bag containing— torch, lighter (never for smoking), camera, pepper spray, collapsible baton, the essentials.
And she ran.
She followed him quietly, melting into the dense shadows of the trees, careful not to reveal her presence. Step by step, she moved without a sound — until her foot pressed down on a dry twig. Crack.
The man spun around. But found nothing.
Aanha had slipped behind a trunk just in time, holding her breath. When he turned back, she resumed her pursuit, even more cautious than before.
Suddenly, he stopped at his destination. Her eyes widened — this place wasn't unfamiliar. It was her granny's house.
He stepped inside. She followed, silent. As she had expected, granny wasn't home; she'd told Aanha earlier she had important work. The man lit a bonfire in the centre of the room. His voice cut through the crackle of flames:
"Come out. I know you're here."
The sound confirmed it. Sai. The same man she had seen last night. The one with Uncle Sarna's ring.
But this time, Aanha didn't hesitate. She lunged from behind, grabbed his wrist, and snapped a thick cable tie around it — the kind that only tightened, never loosened. She shoved him hard, and he crashed onto the nearby couch.
She grabbed her collapsible baton which extended with a sharp click into a steel rod. She pressed it against his throat, one foot pinning him down.
Aanha:"Don't try to outsmart me. You won't escape this time, Sai."
His hood slipped off in the struggle. For the first time, Aanha saw his face — clear, close, and unmasked. He wasn't looking much older than her. His hair was neither too long nor too short, and his sharp eyes were half-hidden behind the strands falling across his face. A strong jawline framed his features, and just beneath his left eye rested a faint scar—a small cut mark that gave his expression an edge.
Sai: stop staring at me. and yeah, I'm not escaping anywhere. if I wanted to, I would've escaped earlier, and you wouldn't have had the slightest clue about my presence. by the way… your actions don't really match your style, bear buddy.
Aanha snapped out of her thoughts. "Huh?"
Sai's eyes flicked down, a slow grin tugging at his lips as he studied her trousers—soft nightwear dotted with tiny bear prints. "Bear buddy…" he repeated deliberately, drawing out the words like a taunt.
Aanha's face flushed as the realization hit—she hadn't bothered to change in her hurry. She quickly pulled her leg back from the couch, her movements sharp with embarrassment.
Aanha: I already told you not to act oversmart.
Sai: [still jammed awkwardly under her stiff stick, smirking despite the discomfort] cool down… I was just fixing my posture. this position hurts!
His sharp eyes gleamed through the strands of hair, unreadable—half mocking, half dangerous.
Aanha: [tightening her grip on the stick, narrowing her eyes] then stay still.
Sai: [chuckles low, his sharp eyes glinting through his hair] you're really something, you know that? threatening me in bear pajamas… should I be scared… or just amused?
Aanha: Don't test me. [she pushes the button fixed on the baton and a sharp edge comes out near his neck]
Sai: [staring at the sharp edge] You're not gonna hurt me right? Afterall you need some of your answers.
Aanha: [pressing the stick harder, her voice firm] You won't win this game.
Sai: [smirks, voice lowering to a sharper edge] Maybe not tonight… but sooner or later, you'll lower that stick. And when you do— [he pauses, his grin curling faintly] —I'll remind you.
Aanha: [frowns] remind me? of what?
Sai: [chuckles softly, though there's no humour in his eyes] tsk… figures. You don't even remember, do you?
[Aanha blinks, confusion flashing across her face. Sai shifts slightly under the stick, turning his cheek just enough for the scar beneath his eye to catch the dim light.]
Sai: This mark… you see it? I got it when I was seven.
Aanha: [hesitates, eyes flicking to the scar] …so?
Sai: [voice drops, teasing laced with something heavier] so, little bear buddy… you were five. Standing right there when it happened. A stupid little blast—chemicals, glass flying everywhere. I was the one who stepped in. [his grin fades just a fraction, eyes narrowing] I bled, you cried… and then you forgot.
[Aanha stiffens. her grip on the stick doesn't loosen, but her throat feels tight. A faint, buried memory stirs—shards of sound, a child's scream, the smell of smoke—but nothing clear enough to grasp.]
Aanha: [shaken, trying to mask it] I… I don't know what you're talking about.
Sai: Of course you don't. You were too little. But I remember. I always remember.
[He leans his head lazily against the stick, as if the pressure doesn't bother him anymore. His sharp eyes glint through the strands of hair, unreadable.]
Sai: But I remember. Every bit of it.
Aanha: [her grip tightens, frustration mixing with unease] Remember what? [through clenched teeth] Stop playing games.
Sai: [grins, leaning closer though still pinned] not a game, Aanha.
Aanha: [grip tightens on her stick]Now I will ask and you will answer only. Who are you really? Why have you been chasing me? Why did you show up last night and then disappear? And… how did you have uncle Sarna's ring? And what do you know about my dad and uncle Sarna?
Sai: [quietly, almost as if testing her] You're asking the right questions now. but the answers...might scare you more than this stick in your hand ever could.
Aanha: [snaps] Answer me! How did you have this ring?
Sai: [twirls the ring slowly around his finger, a teasing smile tugging at his lips] And whom do you suppose this ring should have?
Aanha: [snaps, taking a step closer] Answer me! What did you do to uncle Sarna?
Sai: [laughs under his breath, tilting his head so his hair falls partly across his sharp eyes] Always jumping to the worst conclusions. This didn't fall into my hand by accident.
Aanha: [anger boiling over her confusion] Then tell me why you have it!
Sai: [leans forward slightly, his tone low, threaded with mockery and something heavier] Maybe because it was always meant to be mine. Maybe because uncle Sarna wasn't just your uncle.
Aanha falters for a heartbeat, confusion flickering in her eyes. The ring glows faintly between them, and she was struggling every second to piece things together.
Sai suddenly freed his hands, quick as a whip. Before Aanha could react, he snatched the baton from her grip and flung it across the room. Then, with a firm but not unkind grip, he caught her by the shoulders and pressed her back onto the couch.
"Still trying to stop me with that stick?" he said, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "You really haven't changed at all."
Aanha froze, her pulse racing—not entirely from fear. Her gaze drifted, almost against her will, back to the faint scar under his eye. the ring glows faintly between them, and in that moment, everything rushed back.
That accident.
Their little games.
The breathless chases.
The meals they once shared, laughter spilling between bites.
The room was quiet for a heartbeat… and then a crash shattered it.
A wild, shadowy creature had smashed through the window, shards of glass spraying across the floor. Its glowing eyes fixed on them, low growls vibrating through the air.
Aanha's heart raced. Without thinking, she raised her right hand—and fire erupted from her palm in a sharp flare, the heat lashing outward like a living thing. The creature recoiled, but the flames threatened to engulf more than just the intruder.
Sai moved instantly, "Aqua Bind"... water swirling from his hands to meet the fire, steam curling around them as he contained the blaze. His eyes, calm and steady, met hers.
"So… you finally used "Ember Pulse" your first fire spell," he murmured, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
Aanha sat frozen, chest heaving. He hadn't been surprised. He had known.