Trang drove Ethan through the quiet streets, the city lights blurring past the windows. Her knuckles gripped the wheel tightly as she glanced at him.
"Are you alright?" she asked, voice low but full of concern.
Ethan didn't answer right away. He stared out the window, his jaw clenched. Then slowly, he turned to her. "There are a lot of things I haven't told you."
"I know," she replied, keeping her eyes on the road. Silence settled between them again.
"We're here," she said softly as they pulled into the driveway of her house.
Ethan winced as he tried to get out of the car. The bruises and burns from the exosuit's grip throbbed under his skin. Trang hurried to his side and helped him inside, his arm slung over her shoulder.
"Let me clean your wounds," she said gently.
"I'm fine. You don't have to."
"They might get infected if we don't disinfect them properly."
"…Alright," Ethan nodded reluctantly.
Trang guided him to sit on the couch, then slowly began to remove his tattered shirt, careful not to aggravate the wounds. She left only his fitted shorts on, then helped him into the bathroom. He sat on a small stool as she turned on the warm water, a soft mist filling the room.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, gently dabbing antiseptic on a scrape across his shoulder.
"Of course it does," he muttered, flinching slightly.
"Luckily, the wounds aren't too deep."
"Mm."
Her touch was soft but deliberate. Ethan's breath caught as she brushed against his ribs. He looked at her, eyes tracing the curve of her jaw, the way a loose strand of hair clung to her cheek in the steam.
Then, without thinking, he reached up, took her hand—and pulled her closer. His lips met hers. She gasped softly but didn't pull away. Their mouths moved together, a moment suspended in heat and vulnerability. Her hand pressed lightly against his chest, then slid down—
"Wait…" she whispered suddenly, breaking away. Her face flushed red. "We just met…"
She stepped out of the bathroom quickly, flustered, leaving Ethan under the falling water. He stared at the door for a moment, then finished the bath in silence.
When he emerged, toweling off, she was in the kitchen, avoiding eye contact.
"Sorry," he said. "I don't know what got into me."
"It's okay. Me neither," Trang replied softly, still not looking at him. "I should cook something for you."
"No need. I'll just head home. Got some things to take care of."
She finally looked up. "Alright. Stay safe, Ethan."
He paused at the door. "Thank you. For everything. I appreciate it."
Trang gave him a small smile. "Anytime."
Ethan got into his car and drove off into the night.
⸻
The moment he stepped into the house, Linh stood in the hallway, arms crossed.
"Where were you?" she demanded.
"At the water park," he said flatly. "I figured you'd know."
"I do. The cops are after you, Ethan. The council had to clean up the mess you made."
"Thanks."
"You were out there—what—on a date with some girl!?"
"Yes. I was. Give me a break."
"Why?"
"I don't know!" Ethan snapped. "I don't know who I am. There are people trying to kill me. I'm confused, I'm stressed—I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore. I want to quit. I want to disappear. Just leave me alone."
Linh looked hurt but held her composure. "Okay. I shouldn't have asked. Take care, Ethan." She turned and walked away.
Ethan entered his bedroom. The lights were off. He sat on the edge of his bed, holding Yuki across both hands.
"What do I do now, Yuki?" he whispered. "How do I remember who I am?"
And in his mind, the sword answered—calm, ancient, and clear.
"You will find yourself in the coldest place on Earth."
"The coldest place…" Ethan repeated under his breath. "Where is that…? Bee. Maybe he knows."