The next morning, Tendo awoke just as the first light of dawn spilled through the window. He felt heavy, as though he’d been asleep for days—his body aching, his mind foggy.

  Why do I feel so worn out? he wondered, rubbing his temples. I've never felt like this before.

  Then it hit him—all at once. The memories came flooding back, sharp and jarring, like a swarm of bees stinging at his mind. Gasping, he sat upright, panic twisting in his chest.

  Nevalis? he called out inwardly, his thoughts desperate.

  Hey, you there? This isn't funny. Are you messing with me? Is this some kind of payback?

  He waited. Silence.

  So this is your new trick, huh? The silent treatment?

  He forced a weak chuckle, but it fell ft.

  Fine. Two can py that game. I won't talk to you either.

  Tendo sat there for a long time, unmoving. He lost track of how much time had passed. The dark sky outside gradually lightened, streaks of morning gold creeping in through the windowpane.

  A single tear slid down his cheek.

  Then, with a sudden burst of emotion, he grabbed the gss of water on the side table and hurled it at the wall. It shattered with a sharp crack, pieces scattering across the floor.

  Answer me back, damn it! he screamed in his mind.

  He buried his face in his hands, now wet with the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. The silence inside him felt deafening.

  He had never imagined what true loneliness felt like—until now, when Nevalis had gone quiet.

  Asahi stood outside the room where Tendo had locked himself away. It had been a full day—no sound, no movement, no food taken in. He hadn’t even gone to see Haruto yet, who still y unconscious, trapped in a comatose state.

  Asahi knocked gently on the door. “Tendo, open the door.”

  Silence.

  He waited. But no reply came.If Asahi truly wanted to, he could have broken the door down without much effort. But he didn’t. He understood. He knew all too well what Tendo was feeling.

  Losing your wolf—even temporarily—was like losing half your soul. The pain wasn't visible on the skin; it was buried deep inside. The kind of wound time alone could heal.

  Asahi rested his forehead against the wooden door, trying to feel Tendo’s presence. “Tendo, my boy… I know you're hurting after losing Nevalis… and Haruto.”

  Inside, Tendo sat silently on the floor beside the bed, his back resting against the wall. The room was cloaked in darkness. Tendo had always loved the sunlight—it matched his nature. But now, the shadows were his refuge.There was something comforting in this eerie gloom. It reminded him of the time he and Nevalis had faced the night terrors together. Nevalis had been his light in that darkness. Maybe, just maybe, if he stayed here long enough… the darkness would return Nevalis to him. Or at least let him feel him again.

  Through that thick silence, Asahi’s voice trickled in from the other side of the door, soft but steady.

  “You know… even the bravest werewolves can fall when they're faced with what you and Haruto went through. But you brought him back. You brought yourself back. That’s not something just anyone can do.”

  It wasn’t me, Tendo thought bitterly. It was Nevalis. He sacrificed himself for us.

  “Asahi’s voice continued, “Setbacks… they’re life’s way of teaching us. They break us, shape us, but they also prepare us. The key is not to give up. You stand back up, stronger, and ready for what’s coming.”

  “You should be thankful, Tendo. You're alive. Haruto’s alive. Life doesn’t always give second chances to protect those you love… and no one understands that better than you.”

  Those words pierced something deep within. At that, Tendo reached beneath his shirt and pulled out the pendant that hung around his neck. It shimmered faintly in the darkness, like a memory glowing in the void. It reminded him of his mother and how it brought him back from the void of bad memories and protected him from night terrors.

  Outside, Asahi's voice grew softer. “Don’t waste this time in silence and sorrow. You were lucky this time, but next time… luck may not be enough. Be ready. Be strong enough to fight back when darkness strikes again.”

  With that, Asahi turned and walked away, his footsteps fading down the hall.

  After Asahi left, Tendo sat in the silence, clutching the pendant tightly in his hand. He had lost track of time ever since shutting himself in this room. The air felt heavy with grief and longing.

  Slowly, he pushed himself up and walked toward the window. Drawing back the curtains, he looked outside.

  The sky was overcast—thick, gray clouds loomed low, and the air smelled like rain. The gloomy weather mirrored his mood perfectly.

  I need to train and work hard. That’s what you always said, Nevalis… he thought. If I do this—if I push myself—will you come back to me?

  Without another thought, he opened the window and leapt from the second floor, nding heavily before sprinting into the woods.

  His movements were slower than before—his strength, agility, and speed all dulled. Without Nevalis, everything felt… off. Maybe he had lost his powers too. He didn’t know. He hadn’t tried. All he knew was that he had to run.

  He ran blindly, deeper into unknown territory, the wind cutting against his skin, the cold biting. In the distance, he heard the howls of wolves—the Blue Moon pack patrol. Without Nevalis, their calls were indecipherable. Maybe they were warning him not to cross the border.

  But he didn’t stop. He didn’t care.

  Eventually, he reached the top of a grassy hill, chest heaving. The sky above rumbled with thunder, casting the ndscape in a surreal gloom.

  He sank to the ground, legs crossed, breathing heavily. Closing his eyes, he tried to center himself—tried to feel the energy inside. Before, it had always been Nevalis who helped channel it, who could slip into control when needed. Now, Tendo had to do it on his own.

  He focused… tried to feel… to pull something from within. Anything.

  A snowdrop petal. A wind bde. Anything...

  But the energy refused to obey. Instead of collecting within him, it spilled out wildly, uncontrolled. Sweat poured from his brow as he pushed harder. Finally, with a trembling hand outstretched, a small, fragile snowdrop petal formed—quivering, delicate, cold. He tried to move it in a specific direction, but it simply drifted, swayed by the wind, unresponsive to his will.

  Still, he didn’t give up. Again and again, he tried to shape it, guide it—until it melted in his palm.

  Then he turned to wind bdes.

  They were easier to summon, but not to control. The moment they formed, they shot off in chaotic directions, some crashing into the trees—others into him. He dodged what he could, but several struck him, leaving shallow cuts and bruises.

  Yet he continued.

  Over and over, until his limbs were trembling, his breath ragged, and his vision blurring from exhaustion. He hadn’t eaten in two days, and now with all this effort, his body was close to breaking.

  He colpsed onto the grass, the sky still thundering above. For a while, he simply y there, letting the drizzle fall on his face, mingling with sweat and tears.

  Eventually, he forced himself up, limbs heavy and aching, and began walking back down the hill.

  He strolled down the woody pathway, which meandered through a dense collection of trees and shrubs, creating a natural canopy overhead. The atmosphere was accompanied by a gentle drizzle, intertwined with the earthy aroma of damp soil. As he continued his leisurely walk, his attention was captivated by the sight of a little girl seated amidst the pathway. Resting on her p was a small basket brimming with a variety of flowers.

  With nimble fingers, she meticulously arranged the flowers, deftly creating small bundles by skilfully twisting a string around their delicate stems. Whenever her hands moved to secure the string, she would pause, casting her mesmerizing eyes upon the enchanting scenery that unfolded before her. Inhaling deeply, she reveled in the revitalizing aroma of the rain, as if it breathed life into her very being.

  Having completed each bundle, she would shift her gaze back to her basket, gently pcing the finished creation amidst the already arranged ones, before resuming her task of carefully selecting more flowers. The shelter provided by the surrounding trees shielded her from the rain, leaving her untouched by its dampness. Only a few droplets adorned her sleek bck hair, resembling dewdrops delicately adorning petals from a distance.

  Tendo found himself lost in a reverie, completely unaware of the passing time as he continued to gaze at her. The scene before him had entranced him to such an extent that he wished for time to stand still. Normally, Tendo had a preference for bright and sunny weather, and upon arriving in this pce, he had been dejected by the perpetually gloomy, rainy atmosphere that seemed to further dampen his spirits. Yet, in that very moment, he realized an unexpected fondness for the rainy weather that surrounded the girl.

  At that moment, a peculiar sensation coursed through Tendo's heart, like an invisible thread connecting him to the girl. It was a strange and unexpected feeling. He had an inexplicable desire to protect her, even though he knew that she didn't require his protection. The young Tendo, just twelve years old at the time, found himself caught in a perplexing dilemma. His emotions were a tangled web, and he struggled to comprehend the inexplicable connection he felt toward the girl.

  Little did Tendo know that this captivating encounter would etch itself into his memory as one of the most prominent and beautiful moments of his life. If he were to reflect on cherished memories in the future, his first choice would undoubtedly be the image of his mother lovingly preparing blueberry pancakes, their aroma filling the air. And now, this captivating scene would become his second choice, forever imprinted in his mind.

  Tendo then slowly starts to walk forward. The light drizzle continued to fall gracefully from the heavens, creating a gentle symphony as raindrops danced upon the foliage around them and he could almost feel the cool touch of the mist on his skin, heightening his senses and immersing him further into the serenity of the surroundings.

  He sat beside her on an old wooden pnk, careful not to disturb her. She remained completely absorbed in her work, as if she were part of the forest itself—one with the rain, the trees, the earth.

  Tendo couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her bck hair was half tucked into a matching bck muffler. Her long eyeshes framed eyes that he hadn’t yet seen fully. A faint smile adorned her delicate features. But after a quiet moment, the smile faded. Her brow furrowed. She scrunched her nose, a small frown forming on her face.

  Then, without looking up, she said softly, “You’re hurt.”

  Tendo blinked. The world around him melted away, leaving only her voice, soft and sure, tethering him to the moment.

  She then turned her gaze towards him. He’d only seen her side profile until now, but as she turned to face him, he was met with her full gaze. Her obsidian eyes were deep and endless, like a whirlpool pulling him in. He was so entranced. Unable to process anything. The surrounding environment suddenly vanished. It was just him and her at that moment. The invisible thread connecting him to her strengthened in that single moment. He had heard people call others "beautiful" before, but for the first time, he understood what that word truly meant.

  At that moment, another thing emerged in his area of knowledge, another skill that he doubted he could ever have or he could ever do. He wanted to sketch. He wanted to enshroud that whole scene into a frame, so he could see it whenever he wanted. He never thought that he could draw before, but at the moment he believed that he could draw her and she would be very beautiful when painted by him, surrounded by a mist, rain, and forest.

  He sighed deeply and thought that he would definitely draw her when he returned to his room, or he would try. It does not matter if he remained unsuccessful; she is still captured in his memory.

  “You are hurt”, she repeated after seeing that the boy in front of her was foolishly staring at her and not responding at all.

  Tendo then realized that she had said something and was talking to him.

  “Ah hurt? No. I am not.”

  Her eyes flicked to his wrist. Tendo followed her gaze and saw the scratch marks, thin lines of blood trailing from where the wind bdes had cut him.

  He looked at his wounds and said,

  “Oh, it’s nothing serious. They will heal soon.”

  She nodded, then turned back to the flower basket in front of her, quietly resuming her work.

  They sat in silence—her weaving and twisting the flowers with delicate focus, while he sat there, watching her. The quiet stretched between them, peaceful and strangely comforting.

  Eventually, she finished tying the st bundle. Only a single flower remained in the basket.

  Tendo gnced at it and said, “You left one.”

  She picked it up, looked at him, and said softly, “Give me your hand.”

  “Huh?” he asked, caught off guard, still wearing that confused expression.

  Without waiting, she gently reached for his hand resting on his p. As their fingers touched, a soft jolt of energy passed between them—just a faint tingle like a breath of static. They both instinctively pulled back.

  Their eyes met in surprise, but she reached for his hand again. She rubbed the flower gently over the wound, then used its stem to tie it around his wrist in a loose, delicate knot.

  “This is chamomile,” she said. “It’ll help your wound heal.”

  She rose to her feet, lifted her flower basket, and began walking away, down the opposite path that led away from the wooden trail.

  Tendo stood slowly, eyes following her retreating form. He watched until she vanished from view among the trees, then turned and started back toward the pack house.

  Unseen by him, the girl paused once she had walked a distance. She lifted her fingers to her face, inhaling deeply the faint, fresh scent that lingered from where she had touched him—a scent light and ethereal, like early blooming nature.

  She gnced back over her shoulder, then turned once more and continued walking in her direction.

  Author's Note:Song suggestion for the ending scene: “Opaline” – Novo Amor (Slowed + Reverb)