The airport smelled like burnt coffee and stale air conditioning.
She hated that. The artificial cold, the dull announcements, the drone of humanity pretending to be somewhere important.
Iraya wasn't running late, but she was in no mood to be early either.
She moved like she didn't want to be noticed—messy hair tucked into a loose hoodie, one earphone dangling, the other lost in her pocket. Her bag rolled behind her lazily, the wheel clicking every third step.
There was something chaotic in the way she walked—like she didn't quite belong anywhere she went, but didn't care enough to fix it.
Setting: An international airport. Rain outside. Crowds. Chaos.
She passed a group of kids running, dodged a spilled cup of coffee, and veered toward Gate 42 with the energy of someone who'd punch the next person that breathed too loud.
Then—
She bumped into someone.
Her phone slipped. Her passport almost fell.
His chest was solid. Warm.
Her eyes snapped up, ready to curse—
And met his.
Just for a moment.
Dark eyes. Still. Too still.
He caught the passport before it hit the ground and handed it to her like he wasn't surprised she'd be clumsy. Like he'd been waiting for this.
"Careful, little storm," he said.
His voice was low and smooth—like it had been soaked in danger and dried in silence.
Her eyes narrowed. "Do all creeps wear suits at the airport?"
He grinned slightly. "Only when we want to be remembered."
She snatched the passport back, brushed past him with a scoff.
But after a few steps, she looked back.
Just once.
He'd noticed her long before she noticed him.
He was sitting alone, a black hoodie pulled over his head, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely intertwined.
He wasn't checking his phone. He wasn't pretending to be busy.
He was just watching.
Her.
There was nothing particularly loud about her—no dramatic makeup, no flashy fashion, not even loud music. But the way she moved… She didn't hesitate. She didn't smile.
She just existed like the world owed her nothing and she wasn't planning to give it anything either.
He liked that.
She dropped into the seat across from him at Gate 42—not because she wanted to, but because it was the farthest one from the noisy couple arguing by the vending machine.
He didn't speak at first. Just studied her like a page in a book he wasn't supposed to read but already memorized.
When she finally looked up, their eyes met for less than a second.
He didn't look away.
She did.
Not because she was shy—she wasn't.
Just not interested. At least not in small talk, or strangers who made eye contact like they had something to prove.
But then he spoke.
"You always choose the loneliest corner of a crowd, or just airports?"
His voice wasn't cocky. It wasn't sweet either.
It was low, smooth, and just the right amount of intrusive. Like he'd already decided this conversation mattered.
She raised an eyebrow, her lips pulling into a half-smirk she didn't mean to give.
"Do you always bother women who clearly don't want to talk?"
He shrugged.
"Only the ones pretending not to be listening."
That made her pause.
She could've shut it down. Could've switched seats. Could've plugged both earphones in and drowned him out.
But she didn't.
Something about him felt… steady. Still.
Like the kind of calm that comes right before something terrible.
She didn't ask his name.
She didn't give hers.
They just sat, saying little, doing less, for the next twenty minutes.
But when her flight was called and she stood up to leave, he finally said something that made her stop.
"Next time you're bored of pretending you don't care... look for me."
She turned slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching.
And then she left—without turning around again.
Without knowing that he had already memorized the way she said nothing.
Teja watches her go.
She didn't know him.
But he remembered her.
Years ago. A brief encounter. She was younger. Reckless. Brilliant.
And unforgettable.
She was sharper now. Colder. And still unknowingly dragging storms behind her.
He pulled out his phone and made a quiet call:
"I've found her. Assign me to the case."
The case she doesn't know she's about to be a part of.
The one tangled in disappearances, shadows, and bloodstains with her father's name at the bottom.
The truth he's hiding?
It starts now.