The edges of winter rested lightly over the village, more suggestion than force. The air carried a clean chill, sharp enough to wake the senses, mild enough that most went about their day unchanged. Shun walked without hurry, hands bare, coat hanging open out of habit rather than need. This street slowed him down. The stones beneath his feet were older than most of the surrounding paths, worn smooth by years of passing soles. He hadn’t meant to come this way - his feet had simply turned on their own. With each step, a strange familiarity tugged at him, quiet but persistent, like a memory brushing against the back of his thoughts.
He stopped near a low wall, fingers grazing the cool stone.
Is this…no, it couldn't be.
The realization came gently. He could almost see it - smaller shoes, clumsy steps, the way the cold air had felt endless that day. He’d been lost, exhausted, drifting on numb instinct when he’d been found by her. A stranger, by all accounts. Someone who had made no promise of safety, only honesty - that what she intended to do might hurt, that it might be dangerous.
And yet… he’d gone with her.
Even now, the thought made his lips curve with faint disbelief. He had trusted her without reason, without proof. Not fearlessness - something quieter. A certainty he’d never quite learned how to name.
Shun exhaled slowly and leaned back against the wall, the stone cool and steady at his shoulders. He meant to rest only a moment. Just long enough to sort through the feeling twisting in his chest. The chill brushed past him, unnoticed. His eyes slipped shut.
For a heartbeat - or perhaps longer - the present blurred. The sounds of the village softened, distant and dull, as if wrapped in cotton. His head tipped slightly, weight settling in a way that felt far too familiar. “…Huh,” he murmured, half-asleep. Not again.
It wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt strangely right - like stepping into a footprint he’d left behind years ago without realizing it.
If someone were to pass by now, they might find a young man dozing against a wall on a quiet winter street, breath even, posture relaxed. Exactly as he once had been, though nowhere near as lost or as small.
He stopped near a low wall, fingers grazing the cool stone.
Is this…no, it couldn't be.
The realization came gently. He could almost see it - smaller shoes, clumsy steps, the way the cold air had felt endless that day. He’d been lost, exhausted, drifting on numb instinct when he’d been found by her. A stranger, by all accounts. Someone who had made no promise of safety, only honesty - that what she intended to do might hurt, that it might be dangerous.
And yet… he’d gone with her.
Even now, the thought made his lips curve with faint disbelief. He had trusted her without reason, without proof. Not fearlessness - something quieter. A certainty he’d never quite learned how to name.
Shun exhaled slowly and leaned back against the wall, the stone cool and steady at his shoulders. He meant to rest only a moment. Just long enough to sort through the feeling twisting in his chest. The chill brushed past him, unnoticed. His eyes slipped shut.
For a heartbeat - or perhaps longer - the present blurred. The sounds of the village softened, distant and dull, as if wrapped in cotton. His head tipped slightly, weight settling in a way that felt far too familiar. “…Huh,” he murmured, half-asleep. Not again.
It wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt strangely right - like stepping into a footprint he’d left behind years ago without realizing it.
If someone were to pass by now, they might find a young man dozing against a wall on a quiet winter street, breath even, posture relaxed. Exactly as he once had been, though nowhere near as lost or as small.
