EXT SCHOOL GROUNDS - 8 AM
The weather was kind that day.
Warm sunlight spilled over the festival grounds, and a cool breeze danced through the trees—balancing the heat like a silent agreement between seasons.
Fire tilted her face up to the sky for a moment, thinking, Even the weather feels like it wants to celebrate.
But nobody else seemed to notice.
Everyone was caught in the rhythm of the festival—shouting across booths, waving flyers, flipping food, laughing too loud. The whole campus buzzed with life. Rows of stalls stretched across the school grounds—sizzling food, colorful treats, even weird dried snacks she didn't recognize. The culinary students really went all out. Nothing looked the same—each stall more creative and unique than the last.
The SSC did a good job organizing this, Fire thought, admiring how no booth looked the same.
Her mind echoed again—
The SSC.
She had almost forgotten about him. No—that wasn't true.
She had been busy. She'd tried to forget. And now, she would again.
She shakes her head.
Fire gave her head a small shake.
"I'll enjoy this one… for them." she whispered.
She dashed to the nearest booth—instantly distracted by the display of cupcakes stacked like a candy mountain. Pinks, blues, swirls of cream, tiny edible glitter stars.
Her eyes lit up.
These look amazing!
"Hello! Can I have one of these, and two of those pink ones?" she said, practically bouncing.
I'll give the others to Dhylan and Oriel later, she thought, already imagining their reactions.
"Sure thing! I'll have that packed for you," the student manning the booth—probably a senior—grinned, pulling out a pastel box.
While she waited, Fire leaned forward to admire the decorations on the cart. Everything was detailed, hand-painted flowers and ribbons—
Pretty... she thought, mesmerized.
And then—
'Okay, let's try some cupcakes. You'll make and decorate them, okay?'
A voice whispered in her memory.
His voice.
She flinched inwardly, blinking the thought away.
"Here are your cupcakes!" the student handed her the box, neatly tucked into a cute bag.
Even the packaging is nice... she thought, trying to distract herself.
"PARFAITS! Visit our café for incredible parfait flavors!"
A voice boomed from somewhere to her left. A student in a maid outfit waved a sign strapped to his chest, megaphone in hand.
Her eyes lit up.
Parfait...?!
Without thinking, she made a beeline for the classroom café. Crossing the lawn toward one of the themed classrooms. The maid café!
The classroom had transformed into a charming little wonderland. Sunlight filtered through the windows, now trimmed with delicate, hand-cut lace that fluttered gently with the breeze. The desks had been pushed aside to make room for round tables covered in pastel cloths, each one set with porcelain teacups and tiny vases of fresh flowers. A soft instrumental melody drifted from a hidden speaker, the kind of tune that made everything feel like a scene straight out of a manga.
The girls floated through the room in frilly maid uniforms—aprons tied in neat bows, petticoats rustling with each graceful step. Their smiles were practiced but genuine, and the occasional "Welcome, Master!" or "Would you like sugar or honey?" made the whole experience feel oddly enchanting. The boys, on the other hand, wore crisp vests and white gloves, channeling a polished butler aesthetic that contrasted perfectly with the maids' sweetness.
Fire couldn't help but grin.
"This is amazing," she whispered, eyes sparkling as she took in the whimsical decor and theatrical charm. She leaned in slightly, speaking more to herself than anyone else. "Oriel would look incredible in one of these uniforms."
She laughed softly, already imagining his awkward expression. And Dhylan too—oh, that would be priceless. Just the thought of it made her smile wider.
She was still chuckling to herself when a voice gently pulled her back to the moment.
"Here's your parfait, ma'am," someone said with a polite lilt.
Fire turned, For a heartbeat, time paused.
The image flickered—Ice, offering her a parfait, that gentle moment in the Sweet Dream Café. The memory was so clear, The way he had handed her a parfait. The warmth in that moment. The taste. The quiet. The comfort.
She blinked.
Then it was gone.
It was just one of the butlers from the class, placing the tall glass in front of her.
"Thanks," she said automatically, picking up the spoon.
The first spoonful tasted sweet, but her excitement was gone.
The joy she usually felt when eating her favorite food—absent.
The room blurred at the edges as another memory came up like a tide. Instead, there was a heaviness.
That same day... I almost burned the shop, she remembered.
He comforted me.
I talked about Mommy.
The parfait blurred in her vision. She wasn't even tasting it anymore.
Weeks had passed, and helping with the booth had kept her moving. Kept her distracted.
But now that she finally had time to breathe—everything she had pushed aside came rushing back in.
I left him alone, she thought suddenly.
A strange guilt crept over her chest like a slow fog.
She didn't know what exactly she had done wrong. But it felt wrong. Like she'd run away.
I'm overreacting.
He doesn't care.
Of course he wouldn't care…
But somehow… that hurt more.
INT – GREENHOUSE – 8:00 AM
Sunlight poured through the glass panels in sharp, golden stripes.
While the school celebrated outside, one of the people who had helped make the day possible was tucked away—leaning against the trunk of a tree inside the dome.
Eyes closed, Ice sat quietly, the greenery soft around him, untouched by the festival noise.
The door creaked open.
He didn't move at first, but then opened one eye as footsteps approached.
"Ice! Why are you here?"
It was the school gardener, a middle-aged man with soil-stained gloves and a gentle smile.
"The event's a hit. You should be out there, enjoying it."
Ice gave a small chuckle.
"It's just you."
The gardener grinned as he turned the faucet on nearby.
"Waiting for someone?" he teased, glancing over his shoulder.
"Maybe a date?"
"Nope." Ice leaned further back against the tree, closing his eyes again.
"Not expecting anyone."
Next Chapter:Fire ran like her life depended on it—eyes locked on his back as the hallway blurred around her. Students became obstacles. Noise became static. All she could focus on was reaching him before he disappeared again.
And then—he turned the corner.
But her heel caught the edge of the stair.
Time shattered.
Gasps echoed around her.
She wasn't falling.
A voice, low and sharp, cut through the pounding in her ears.
"I told you not to run in the hallway."