The corridor smelled of caramel and baked sugar—dangerous territory for someone with a sweet tooth.
Eucliea crouched down beside the little boy, pointing at the colorful sweets behind the glass.
"Pick one. Only one," she said.
The boy grinned and pointed to two. She rolled her eyes, then gave in.
As the vendor packed their order, her smile faded. Her gaze drifted past the boy—towards a tall figure walking toward them, fidgeting with his sleeves, almost bumping into the wall.
Phylax.
She straightened, jaw clenched.
---
Flashback — Earlier that morning
"Listen," Eirene said as they approached the stadium's back entrance. "The moment we enter, I'm heading to my seat—and you, my dear friend, are going straight to her. You're going to explain everything. And you'd better explain my side too."
Phylax groaned, dragging his feet like a guilty schoolboy.
"Why are you doing this to me? You know one hug from you and she'll forgive you—and probably me too! If I try, it'll take hours."
Eirene, smirking. "That's what you get for assuming things, big boy."
She walked ahead, hiding a smile.
In truth, she could've fixed things easily. But she didn't want to.
Not this time.
That one beautiful moment between Phylax and Eucliea had been stolen—because of her sudden, dramatic meeting.
Let him earn it back.
She deserved her space, and they deserved their moment.
---
Back to present
Phylax stopped just short of them.
"Hey, Eucliea... I—I can explain." He laughed, a shaky, guilty sort of sound. "This whole thing is a big—uh—misunderstanding."
The little boy looked up at Eucliea.
"Big sis, who's that guy?"
She squinted at Phylax like she'd never seen him before.
"I don't know. Who are you, sir?"
The cold politeness in her voice made the corridor feel colder.
Phylax took a slow breath.
"I'm sorry… I can tell you everything that happened," he said, voice low, not defensive—just real.
Eucliea's eyes didn't soften.
Still squinted. Still cold.
She turned to the little boy beside her.
"Okay, Raga. Let's go to our seats."
Phylax's words stumbled out before his thoughts caught up.
"Wait up. Can I… come with you?"
Eucliea didn't stop walking.
"Go wherever your seat is, sir. Why would I want to know where you'll be going?"
Her voice wasn't angry. Just… distant.
And then, after a pause:
"If yours is next to mine, be my guest. But don't try to talk to me."
The slap wasn't in the words.
It was in the cold neutrality of it all.
Phylax stayed still for a second. Then let out a quiet exhale and nodded to no one in particular.
Right. This is going to take time.
He followed them, but from a distance—ten, maybe fifteen steps behind.
Not too close.
Not too far.
Just enough to remind himself that he was still on the outside.
---
The corridor shifted back to quiet.
Raga walked beside Eucliea, head tilted just enough to catch the storm in her silence.
A moment ago, she was smiling at him, handing him sweets, even joking about candy colors.
Now her eyebrows were tight, eyes sharp, lips pulled in that stubborn flat line.
He didn't know much about adult things.
But he knew what it looked like when someone got hurt but didn't want to say it.
Raga wanted to ask something—Who was that guy? Why do you look like this now?
But the way her jaw clenched made it clear:
Now's not the time.
So he just kept walking. Quiet, respectful, like the hospital staff taught him when emotions in a room ran too high.
They reached their seats. Raga's was right next to hers—coincidence or fate, he didn't know.
He was here under the watch of his physical therapist, a kind old man sitting a row behind, reading a newspaper with one eye while the other watched Raga like a hawk.
Raga was nearing the end of his recovery.
An accident had left him in the hospital for months. No parents. No family.
But the hospital had a sports program for kids like him.
One of the kind nurses had pulled strings to get him here—"One day outside, Raga. A little joy to celebrate your progress."
Eucliea didn't know his whole story.
She just saw a quiet kid smiling up at her when she was sad with candy in his hand, asking her things without pressure.
That was enough for now.
Behind them, Phylax stepped quietly into the row.
His seat? Right next to Eucliea's of course.
But he didn't sit down immediately.
He just stood there, staring at the seat with the kind of hesitation you usually see in people deciding whether they deserve forgiveness… or need to earn it.
---
Meanwhile,
Zorion was living his best life.
Reclined halfway in Eirene's chair, legs lazily crossed, and both hands occupied—one with a pastry, the other fishing crackers from Eirene's box of complimentary snacks.
Eyes half-lidded, mouth chewing like a man being massaged by invisible angels.
A quiet moan of satisfaction slipped out.
"God, these crumbs got flavor."
He didn't even notice the door open.
Eirene walked in and paused.
One look at him and she blinked in disbelief.
There he was, eating snacks meant for someone else like a five-star guest at a buffet he didn't pay for.
She didn't speak immediately.
She just walked to her seat—right beside him—and stood. Still. Arms folded.
Long enough for Zorion to feel a presence more powerful than a divine deity.
He looked up slowly.
"Uh-oh."
Eirene tilted her head. "Can't our first meeting of the day be normal?"
Zorion held up a half-bitten snack and grinned sheepishly. "Hehe… well, food can't be wasted, right?"
Eirene tilted her head.
"Well, you're right. If I wasn't here, the food would be in the dustbin. But right now, your etiquette is sitting comfortably there."
Zorion choked. Actually choked.
He reached for water—found none.
Eirene, cool as ever, pulled a bottle from her bag and handed it over.
Zorion gulped it down like it was his last hope for survival.
"Heyy! Be more gentle with your words! I've got feelings, you know!"
Eirene clicked her tongue and sat down.
"Then act like a civilized human for once. For all I know, you probably walked into the women's washroom again today."
Zorion flinched.
"Hey! Don't say that out loud!"
He checked around nervously, as if the stadium walls had ears.
It wasn't a fight.
Not even close.
But it wasn't peaceful either.
It was them.
Two people who somehow made chaos feel like chemistry.
The kind of back-and-forth that annoyed them… but only just enough to look forward to continuing it.