The river glimmered under the moonlight, soft currents flowing like silver threads through the stillness. Astra sat at the edge, her legs drawn in, watching her reflection ripple on the surface. tired eyes, bruised cheek. Dirt and dried blood streaked her face and clothes torn from the chaos she barely survived.
The moon hung behind her, casting a pale glow across the bank.
Beside her, Kriya crouched in silence. He didn't speak. Didn't shift. Then, slowly, he leaned forward and dipped both hands into the cool river. Water cupped between his palms, he lifted it gently—fingers steady, droplets slipping between them.
Then, without a word, he held his hands out to her.
Astra blinked, startled from her daze. She reached forward, her fingers stiff and scraped. Her gaze lingered on the shimmering pool of water in his palms for a moment longer—then, just before it could all slip through his fingers, she leaned in and splashed it onto her face.
The cold hit hard.
She sucked in a breath, nearly choking on her own gasp, flinching slightly as the sting of cold water met half-healed cuts. Some of it dripped down her collar, and she shook her head lightly, half-shivering, half-cursing under her breath.
Kriya finally looked at her. Blinked once. Then, without a word, turned his eyes back to the river.
He dipped his hands again, cupping the water in silence.
Astra leaned in and splashed her face once more—slower this time. The sting was sharper now that she was expecting it. She winced and eased back, one hand instinctively reaching behind her to brace her lower back where the ache pulsed through her spine.
She went still.
Kriya glanced at her from the side. Her shoulders didn't rise or fall. Not even a sigh escaped her lips. Just stillness.
She sat unmoving after that, shoulders drawn in, her reflection rippling silently on the water's surface.
After a moment, he reached out hesitating for only a second. His hand paused just above her arm before settling gently.
The sleeve was torn nearly to the elbow, the fabric stiff with dried blood. Beneath it, the wound was worse than it looked, a jagged tear with a splinter of wood still lodged deep beneath the skin.
Astra didn't react, didn't even bother to look. She knew it was there. The way her fingers twitched, just barely, said enough. It hurt. Badly.
Kriya's gaze flicked from the wound to her face. She didn't meet his eyes. Just stared forward, as if her mind had drifted somewhere far from this riverbank, far from the pain.
Kriya's brows pulled together. He braced her wrist and lowered his gaze to the wound, No words. Just a quiet breath as he tightened his grip—firmly. he slid his fingers around the embedded shard.
Astra's jaw tensed. Her eyes shut. Lips pressed together.
And then—He pulled.
She gasped a sharp, guttural sound, head snapping forward as the splinter came free. The clotted wound opened again, dark blood blooming across her forearm. Her hands trembled. A thin breath escaped her as if her body had been holding it in for hours.
Kriya held the bloodied shard in his hand, staring at it for a beat. Then his fingers curled around it, tightening—until the brittle wood cracked, then crumbled to dust between his palms.
Without a word, he let the dust fall, then reached into his sleeve and pulled out a clean strip of cloth. He leaned in and wrapped it around her arm with firm, pressure, fingers stained but steady. The bleeding slowed beneath his hands.
Astra watched him. Her face showed nothing, not pain, not relief—just a stillness, hollow and unreadable. But Kriya's face said everything she didn't. Jaw clenched. Brow slightly drawn. The hurt that should've been hers seemed to settle quietly in his expression instead.
When he finished tying the cloth, their eyes met. Something passed between them—brief, quiet, unspoken. Then, without thinking, Astra's hand shifted. Reached out involuntary, A single tear slipped from his eye, falling and landing on her open palm.
Kriya's gaze followed it just for a moment before he looked away. As if even that drop had said too much.
Astra slowly curled her fingers around the tear. But the moment her skin pressed in, her brow furrowed. Something sharp. She opened her hand again expecting nothing, maybe a stray pebble but froze.
There, resting in her palm where the tear had landed, was something faintly gleaming. A tiny shard of light. She leaned closer, eyes narrowing in the moonlight, and gently picked it up between her fingers.
It sparkled clear, sharp-edged, impossibly real.
A diamond.
Small, weightless, and unmistakably out of place. She blinked once… twice, the silence stretching with her disbelief. Not knowing what to do with it, not even sure if it was real, she simply held it out to him.
"Here. It's yours."
Kriya shook his head, eyes lowered. "…It's yours," he murmured, barely above the river's hush.
Astra didn't say anything—still too unsure, still too dazed. She just nodded, slow and small, like her mind hadn't caught up to what just happened.
The minutes passed in a soft hush. Only the river moved, whispering its own secrets in the moonlight. Kriya now knelt near the edge, scooping a handful of water and splashing it across his face. Astra watched him quietly, her thoughts slowly settling. Then, voice low and almost hesitant, she spoke.
"…You should leave me now."
Kriya didn't respond. Another splash echoed softly. The water ran down his neck, glinting faintly in the silver light.
She leaned in slightly, her brows knitting. "Kriya," she said again, firmer this time. "You should leave me alone. Walk away. That demon… it might come back—and if it does, it won't stop. It'll hurt you too. I already lost my family because of it. I don't want anyone else caught in this."
Her breath caught, words still hanging between them, but before she could say more—
"I'll leave," he said quietly, straightening up, "when you're better."
Astra's fingers dug slightly into the fabric of her sleeve. Her voice, when it came, was low and raw, the edge of exhaustion sharpening every word.
"You don't understand. Your life is in danger. If you stay near me, it'll come back… and next time, it won't miss. It can kill me—I've already lost everything, I have nothing left to lose. But you… you're risking everything. For someone you barely even know. We're strangers."
Kriya didn't answer immediately. He reached up, wiped the last few drops of water from his face, then turned and slowly stepped toward her.
"Who said we're strangers?"
His voice wasn't soft, but it wasn't sharp either. It lingered somewhere in the middle measured, steady, like he meant every word.
Astra just stared at him. Her lips parted, but no reply came. And in that hush, it was hard to tell whether the ache in her chest had deepened… or lessened.
She tried to speak, to say something about how strangers shouldn't risk their lives for one another. But the words caught in her throat. Instead, what came out was—
"Still… don't risk your life over someone like me. It'll be a waste."
Kriya stepped closer and lowered himself beside her, elbows resting on his knees.
"I told you," he said, eyes on the river, "I have nothing to lose either. And I said I like exploring, didn't I?" He glanced sideways at her, faintly amused. "So let's call it part of the journey. I wouldn't mind experiencing a demon."
She blinked at him, speechless. "You… aren't scared of them?"
"No."
"It could rip you apart. You act like you have some grand spiritual power to stand against it. But you're just—" her voice rose a little, "you're a child."
Kriya let out a quiet chuckle.
She frowned. "Why are you laughing? I'm being serious. Do you really want to get killed that badly?"
"…Maybe I do,"