The morning sunlight spilled across Aanha's room, warm and golden through window. She blinked awake, the faint sting in her hand reminding her of the night before. For a moment, she was afraid to look.
Slowly, she pulled back the bandage. Her breath caught.
The angry redness of the burn was still there—but much lighter than it should have been. The blisters had almost flattened, leaving behind only faint traces of what had happened.
Aanha: Already? It hadn't even been twelve hours.
Before she could cover it again, the door creaked open.
Mom: You're awake? Good. Let me check that hand of yours.
Aanha tried to re-wrap it quickly, but her mom was already at her side, gently taking her wrist. With practiced hands, she unrolled the gauze, her eyes narrowing as she inspected the skin.
Mom: …That's… surprising. It's healing faster than expected.
Aanha (quickly): That's… good, right? [trying not to seem nervous.]
Her mom hesitated, then smiled softly.
Mom: Of course. It's just… unusual. But I suppose you're lucky. [She kissed Aanha's forehead and stood.] Still, take it easy today. No cooking experiments, alright?
Aanha laughed nervously, nodding. But inside, her chest tightened. This wasn't luck. This was something else—something she didn't yet understand.
As her mom left the room, Aanha clenched her hand. The skin tingled faintly, almost as if the fire was still alive beneath it.
The day stretched on like any other. Her mom hurried off early for hospital rounds, leaving Aanha with a kiss on the forehead and a reminder to eat breakfast properly.
At school, Aanha forced herself to smile and laugh with her friends, Mika and Yun. On the surface, she looked the same—cracking small jokes, nodding along to their chatter—but Mika, who always noticed the smallest changes, narrowed her eyes.
Mika: How did this happened?
Aanha: [shocked from the sudden question] Ah! what! what happened?
Mika: Your hand...
Aanha: oh this!... you know my clumsiness. I touched the hot kettle directly while making coffee. [trying to lie better].
Mika: Aanha… are you okay? You've been acting weird.
Aanha waved her hand quickly, too quickly.
Aanha: Nothing! Just… didn't sleep much. #coffee at night 😅.
Mika tilted her head, clearly unconvinced, but Yun jumped in, grinning.
Yun: Well, if you fall asleep in math again, don't expect me to cover for you. Remember not to get scolded again like yesterday.
Aanha forced a laugh, grateful for the distraction. But still, Mika's gaze lingered on her a little too long, like she could see through the cracks Aanha was trying to patch.
During lunch break, Aanha drifted away from the noisy classroom, standing near the window. The sunlight felt warm on her skin, but instead of comforting her, it only reminded her of last night's flames licking at her hands.
The teachers droned on about equations and history, but her thoughts kept slipping back to the burn on her hand. Each time she checked, it looked even lighter—like days had passed instead of hours.
"Lucky," her mom had said. But Aanha knew better_ it's something else.
By the final bell, her nerves buzzed. She stuffed her books into her bag and made her way leaving Mika behind. She went up to the familiar hill toward Granny's house. The air grew cooler as she climbed, the quiet of the slope a strange comfort after the chatter of school.
She hadn't planned it, but somehow she knew he'd be there.
And she was right.
When she pushed open the gate to Granny's yard, Sai was already waiting—leaning casually against the old stone wall, arms crossed, as if he had all the time in the world. His sharp eyes flicked toward her, catching hers before she could look away.
Sai (with that faint smirk): You came.
Aanha tightened her grip on her bag strap, her stomach twisting.
Aanha: I… have questions.
The wind stirred gently around them, as if responding to his unspoken presence. The late afternoon sun, the yard in warm gold. Aanha dropped her bag on the bench, her eyes fixed on Sai.
Aanha (blurting out): What happened yesterday—what was that?!
Sai tilted his head, letting the silence stretch before answering. His lips quirked into that maddening smirk.
Sai: You mean the part where you almost set Granny's house on fire, or the part where you looked like a scared little bear again?
Aanha (flustered): I-I wasn't scared! And stop calling me that! She stomped a foot, cheeks warming.
Sai chuckled softly, then his gaze sharpened.
Sai: But seriously… you felt it, didn't you? That flame—it wasn't an accident.
Aanha's throat tightened. She opened her mouth to demand answers, but before she could, a sudden crack echoed from deeper in the woods behind Granny's house. Branches snapped, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet evening.
Both of them stiffened.
Sai's expression shifted instantly from teasing to alert, his eyes narrowing toward the trees.
Sai (low voice): …We're not alone.
Aanha's pulse spiked. She gripped her bandaged hand instinctively, the faint heat beneath her skin responding as if it knew something was coming.
The crack of snapping branches echoed again, closer this time. Aanha's breath hitched, and she turned toward the trees.
At first, there was nothing. Just the rustle of leaves swaying in the evening breeze.
Then—movement. A tall figure stepped into view, half-hidden in the shadows of the trees. Cloaked, face obscured, it stood unnervingly still.
Aanha felt goosebumps.
Aanha (whispering): …Who… who is that?
Sai raised an arm slightly, as if shielding her without making it obvious. His usual calm smirk was gone, replaced by a sharp, guarded stare.
Sai (under his breath): …Not good.
The figure didn't move closer, but its presence was heavy—like the air itself thickened around it. For a heartbeat, Aanha thought she saw a faint shimmer under the hood, like eyes glinting unnaturally.
Aanha (nervous): Sai… what's this? why is he standing there?
Sai (low, grim): Aanha... listen carefully, he's not here for me.
Aanha's blood ran cold.
Before she could ask what he meant, the figure tilted its head ever so slightly, and the ground beneath Aanha's feet seemed to tremble.
Sai grabbed her wrist sharply.
Sai: Stay behind me.
The cloaked figure raised its hand, and the air seemed to pulse with pressure. In the next instant, a surge of dark energy shot toward Aanha like a spear.
She froze.
But Sai moved first. With a swift gesture "ripple guard" , a barrier of swirling water burst up in front of them, the impact splashing violently as it absorbed the strike. Droplets hissed against the ground, steam rising.
Sai (sharp, to Aanha): Focus! Don't just stand there—
Before he could finish, another wave of energy lashed out, this one angling low toward her. Instinctively, Aanha threw up her hand.
A blinding blaze erupted from her palm.
A pillar of flame shot forward, wild and untamed, searing across the yard. The ground glowed with the intensity, the heat rolling over them in waves. [It was "pyro bloom" the second spell, A radial explosion of fire around the caster—like a fiery shockwave. It can be contained to a few meters.]
The figure halted mid-step. The flames didn't frighten it—but it stopped as though that was all it needed to see.
It tilted its head again, almost in acknowledgment. Then, without a word, it melted back into the shadows of the trees. Within seconds, the forest was silent again.
Aanha gasped, staring at her trembling hand, the scorch marks still glowing faintly where the fire had licked the earth.
Aanha (shaken): …I… I didn't mean to…
Sai didn't take his eyes off the tree line, his jaw tight.
Sai (low, serious): …Now they know.
Aanha looked at him, heart hammering.
Aanha: K-know what? Who was that?
But Sai's silence told her one thing: whatever he knew, he wasn't ready to say yet.
The forest had gone still again, but Aanha's heart wouldn't calm. Her hand still tingled with residual heat, faint wisps of smoke rising from the scorched patch of ground in front of her.
Aanha (demanding, voice trembling): Sai—enough! Who was that? Why did he… why did he look at me like that?
Sai finally turned toward her. His sharp eyes weren't mocking or calm now—they were serious, heavy with something that made her chest tighten.
Sai (low): Because of what you just did.
Aanha: [blinked.] …What I… just did? She glanced at her hand, then back at him. That wasn't… me. That can't be me.
Sai: It was. And it will keep happening, whether you accept it or not.
The words hit harder than the attack had. Aanha shook her head, backing a step.
Aanha: …You're lying. I—I'm just normal. Just Aanha!
Sai stepped closer, his tone sharpening.
Sai: Normal girls don't conjure fire out of thin air. Normal girls don't heal burns in a single night. And normal girls aren't hunted by people like him.
Her breath caught, her protests dying in her throat.
Aanha (whispering): …So what am I?
For a moment, Sai's gaze softened. He looked like he wanted to say more—but then his expression hardened again, like he was fighting himself.
Sai (quiet, serious): You're someone they've been searching for. And now they know you exist.
The weight of his words sank in, leaving Aanha's mind spinning. The world she thought she knew suddenly felt paper-thin, ready to tear open at any moment.....