Author Notes :
Karakter sebagian besar berasal dari game Love and Deepspace, dan beberapa dari mereka menjadi siblings di cerita ini. Jika merasa tidak nyaman dengan hal tersebut, boleh skip dulu ya 🫶

Linkon, 17 April.

Malam itu dimulai dari kediaman keluarga Li.

Lampu-lampu hangat menyala di ruang keluarga, memantulkan kesan lembut yang selalu menjadi ciri khas rumah itu. Di meja tengah, beberapa jurnal medis terbuka, jelas milik sang kepala keluarga, Jace. Sementara di sisi lain, Althea — istrinya, sedang menyusun hiasan bunga dengan tenang, dan memastikan semua tertata rapi sempurna, seperti biasa.

Hingga tidak lama kemudian pintu depan terbuka dan Sylus — putra sulung mereka masuk. Langkahnya tegas, selalu seperti itu, namun ada sesuatu di ekspresi wajahnya yang nampak berbeda, seolah sebuah tekad kuat sedang menghiasi pikirannya.

“Sudah pulang, nak?” suara Althea lembut, tanpa perlu melihat siapa yang tiba.

“Ya, Mom.”

Jace melirik dari balik kacamatanya. “Lebih cepat dari biasanya.”

“Tidak juga,” jawab Sylus singkat.

Beberapa detik hening, namun senyuman kecil tersungging di ujung bibir sang Ayah, putranya ini selalu saja nampak acuh, walau justru yang paling peduli pada orang-orang di sekitarnya.

“Besok saya akan pergi sejak pagi.” Ucapnya pelan, namun berhasil menarik perhatian kedua orang tuanya.

Hingga Jace menutup jurnal di tangannya perlahan, “Oh, mau ke mana?”

“Basket.”

Althea tersenyum kecil, “Dengan siapa?”

Sylus menarik napas ringan. “Xavier, Zayne … dan Wolfgang bersaudara.”

Mendengar hal tersebut Jace tersenyum tipis. “Ah~”

Seolah itu sudah menjelaskan segalanya, mengingat kedua keluarga mereka sudah mengenal dengan baik sejak anak-anak mereka masih belia.

Althea bahkan terlihat lebih senang. “Dengan mereka juga?”

“Ya, Mom.”

“Bagus,” katanya lembut. “Belakangan ini kalian jarang sekali meluangkan waktu seperti dulu.”

Sylus tidak menjawab, tapi senyum tipis menghiasi wajah kharismatiknya.

“Apa ini untuk merayakan ulang tahunmu?” tanya Jace lagi.

“Tidak juga, Dad.”

“Berarti iya,” balas ayahnya santai, sudah hafal benar dengan sikap putera sulungnya.

Lalu Xavier, si adik bungsu yang sejak tadi mendengar dari tangga langsung turun setengah berlari. “Basket, Kak?”

Sylus melirik dan mengagguk tenang. “Jam delapan pagi ya, bisa?”

“Oke, aku bisa ikut.” Xavier menyahut cepat.

Setelah sedikit mengusak rambut si bungsu, ia lalu berjalan menuju kamar Zayne, adik yang usianya hanya terpaut satu tahun darinya.

Mengetuk pintu kamar berwarna putih itu tiga kali, seperti kode khusus bagi mereka bahwa hal yang akan disampaikan adalah perbincangan ringan. Karena ketukan dua kali berarti penting, dan sekali tandanya ada hal yang mendesak.

“Masuk,” maka suara dari dalam pun terdengar tenang menjawabnya.

Zayne sedang duduk di meja belajar, dikelilingi buku, pemandangan yang lumrah dijumpai. Namun begitu Sylus masuk, dia langsung berhenti membaca.

“Iya?”

“Besok,” kata Sylus langsung tanpa pendahuluan, lalu pria jangkung itu dengan santai menjatuhkan tubuh besarnya di ranjang si adik. “Basket.”

Zayne menatapnya datar, bukan pertama kali Sylus seperti itu, dan dia tidak keberatan. Alih-alih ia turut mendudukkan dirinya di samping sang Kakak.

“Siapa saja?”

“Xavier. Three on three.”

“Lawan?”

“The Wolfgangs.”

Zayne tidak langsung menjawab.

“Inez ikut?”

“Dia bagian dari Wolfgang, so ... yeah.”

“Tumben? Ada apa?”

“Pengen aja. Kangen .…”

Dan Zayne seketika menegakkan punggungnya dengan sempurna mendengar jawaban Sylus.

“Inez? She’s mine, Syl.”

“Dude, please … aku kangen kita semua kumpul. Belakangan bahkan buat makan bareng aja kita nggak ada waktu.”

Mendengar hal itu Zayne mengangguk pelan, setuju dengan ucapan kakaknya. “Oke.”

Lalu saat Sylus hendak keluar dari kamarnya, Zayne melanjutkan kalimatnya.

“Aku yang akan memberitahunya.”

Dan Sylus pun terkekeh pelan, adiknya ini dari dulu dikenal sangat dingin, namun memang ada satu hal yang tidak berubah sejak mereka masih kecil. Ia bisa menjadi pribadi yang sangat berbeda saat sedang membahas sahabat masa kecil mereka. Yang kini sudah resmi menjadi kekasihnya.

“As it should be. Zayne, lo harus percaya gue nggak ada rasa sama Inez, she’s like a little sister to me, okay?”

Dan dari kalimat itu, Zayne akhirnya mengulas sedikit senyuman di bibir tipisnya.

Malam yang sama, di Wolfgang Mansion.

Suasana jauh lebih hidup dari rumah keluarga Li.

Dari dapur terdengar suara peralatan masak Elena yang beradu, kala sang Ibu menyiapkan makan malam untuk keluarga. Sementara di ruang tengah, Arthur — suaminya, duduk santai dengan secangkir teh di tangan, membaca kabar mancanegara yang topiknya sering ia butuhkan sebagai seorang petinggi militer.

Hingga puteri mereka — Inez, turun dari tangga dengan langkah ringan, ponsel masih di genggaman tangan, wajahnya berseri seolah baru saja mendapat lotre.

“Elena, lihat itu,” kata Arthur pelan. “Wajah anakmu berbeda tuh.”

“Hmm?” Elena menoleh dari dapur.

Inez langsung tersenyum kecil, sedikit malu. “Kenapa sih, Pa?”

Arthur tersenyum tipis. “Baru ditelepon siapa, hum? Anak Papa sudah besar ya rupanya.”

Inez tidak langsung menjawab, namun pipi bulatnya semakin memerah “Kan aku emang udah pacaran ama Zayne.”

“Aduh … aduh, nanti Papanya dicuekin deh. Sedihnya.”

Elena langsung mendekat, menyeka tangannya yang masih sedikit kotor oleh bahan masakan. “Abaikan saja Papamu itu.”

“Wah Papa kalah telak, dua wanita di hidup Papa sudah tidak berada di pihak Papa lagi.” Arthur mengelus dadanya seolah terluka, hal berlebihan yang sudah dihafal di luar kepala oleh keluarga mereka, terutama oleh putera bungsu mereka yang memiliki tingkah laku serupa sang Ayah.

“Ada apa? Ada masalah?” Elena benar-benar mengabaikan reaksi dramatis suaminya dan berfokus pada sang puteri yang masih tersenyum bahagia.

“Nggak ada, Ma. Tapi besok diajak main basket.”

“Basket? Zayne? Tumben …,” Elena mengangkat alis. “Dengan siapa saja?”

“Semua, Kak Caleb dan Rafa juga.”

Arthur tertawa kecil. “Ah … akhirnya.”

Inez mengerutkan dahi. “Akhirnya apa, Pa?”

“Kalian tuh jarang kumpul lengkap lagi belakangan ini,” jawabnya santai.

Saat itu juga Caleb masuk dari luar, masih dengan jaket varsiti kebanggaannya.

“Adeekk~ Rafaaa!” panggilnya dari ruang tengah. “Kamu pinjem tas …,”

“Besok kita main basket, Kak!” potong Inez cepat begitu mendengar suara kakaknya.

Caleb berhenti melangkah seketika.“Ha? Siapa ngajakin?”

“Zayne. Well technically it was, Sylus.”

“Oh.” Ucapnya singkat, lalu berpikir sejenak sambil melepas sepatu.

“Ulang tahun ya dia?”

Inez mengangguk.

Caleb menghela napas kecil, lalu menyeringai tipis. “Menarik.”

“Dateng kan?” tanya Inez.

“Ya, kalau semua pada ikut sih, gas.”

“Ikut kok.”

“Ya udah.”

Tak lama berselang, Rafayel muncul dari arah lain, jelas mendengar sebagian perbincangan kedua kakanya.

“Basket?” Matanya langsung berbinar. “Lawan siapa?”

“Sylus, Zayne, Xavier.”

Rafayel langsung tertawa. “Anjir … serius?!”

“Serius lah.” Inez terkekeh lihat reaksi heboh adiknya yang sudah biasa seperti itu.

“Gue ikut sih. Ikut banget pokoknya!”

“Belum juga ditanya,” kata Caleb datar.

“Nggak butuh undangan, ini panggilan jiwa,” jawab Rafayel dramatis.

Arthur tertawa kecil dari sofa. “Semangat sekali kamu, Dek.”

“Iya lah, Pa. Ini soal harga diri keluarga!” Caleb seketika mendorong pelan kepala si adik sambil tertawa lepas.

Elena pun menggeleng sambil tersenyum. “Asal jangan pulang dengan keadaan terluka saja.”

Keesokan pagi, waktu datang terasa lebih cepat dari biasanya.

Di Wolfgang Mansion, suasana masih tenang ketika suara mobil berhenti di depan rumah.

Inez yang sudah siap sejak tadi langsung berdiri dari sofa, merapikan rambutnya sekali lagi.

Dari luar, sosok pria kalem itu sudah turun dari mobilnya.

Zayne, sahabat masa kecil yang kini menjadi kekasihnya.

Namun ada hal unik yang baru dilihat oleh Inez selama ia mengenal Zayne, pria berpembawaan tenang itu memakai jersey basket.

Didominasi warna merah maroon, dengan nomor sebelas di dadanya. Sederhana, tapi terlihat … sedikit mengintimidasi.

Inez yang melihatnya dari pintu langsung tertahan beberapa detik.

“Eh, pakai jersey?” katanya setengah heran.

Zayne mengangkat alis sedikit. “Ada yang salah?”

Inez menahan senyum. “Ini cuma pertandingan persahabatan aja kan, Zayne?”

“Tetap saja pertandingan,” jawabnya tenang.

Lalu tanpa banyak basa-basi, dia mengangkat sebuah tas.

“Ini untuk kalian.”

Inez membuka tas itu. Dan langsung … tertawa.

“Ini gemes banget!”

Di dalamnya, ada beberapa jersey lagi.

Dengan warna berbeda dari yang sedang Zayne pakai.

Didominasi warna biru tua, dengan tulisan ‘WOLVES’ dan beberapa nomor di dadanya.

“Jangan bilang …,” Inez menatapnya penasaran.

“Iya, Sylus yang menyiapkan semuanya,” jawab Zayne singkat.

Tidak lama kemudian, Caleb keluar dari dalam rumah.

Dia berhenti begitu melihat Zayne.

“Mau berangkat perang?”

“Persiapan itu penting,” jawab Zayne datar.

Rafayel muncul di belakang, masih setengah mengantuk, sampai matanya menangkap visual dari jersey yang dipegang Inez.

“Eh? EH?!”

Dia langsung mendekat. “Ini apaan?”

Inez mengangkat salah satu jersey. “Katanya buat kita.”

Rafayel mengambilnya, melihat desain jersey di tangannya. “Wolves?”

Caleb mengambil satu juga. “Wolves … versus Dragons?”

Zayne mengangguk. “Ya, kurang lebih seperti itu.”

Beberapa detik … lalu Rafayel tertawa keras.

“Anjay geli, tapi keren! Hahaha.”

Caleb menggeleng. “Ini lebay sih.”

“Tapi lo pake kan, Kak?” tantang Rafayel.

“Dari pada diamuk abangnya dia, ogah banget.”

Inez yang sedari tadi sudah memegang jersey miliknya, tersenyum kecil. “Jadi kayak tanding beneran ya.”

Zayne menatapnya sebentar, lalu tersenyum tipis. “Memang begitu.”

Beberapa menit kemudian, mereka semua sudah siap.

Rafayel bahkan sudah semangat dari awal.
Caleb tetap santai, tapi jelas tidak akan setengah-setengah, dan Inez … terlihat berbeda, lebih fokus dan lebih hidup, seolah ia kembali ke masa di mana ia masih menjadi kapten tim basket puteri di sekolahnya dulu.

“Gue yakin kita menang sih,” ujar Rafayel memecah keheningan di sepanjang jalan menuju lapangan.

“Belum tentu, Dek.” Sahut Caleb.

“Lah? Kakak sendiri nggak yakin gitu?”

“Gue realistis aja. Lawan lo Sylus noh, Zayne juga jago, Xavier not bad lah.”

Zayne yang menyetir hanya mendengarkan. “Jangan remehkan Xavier juga,” ucapnya tenang.

Rafayel menyeringai. “Gue nggak remehin siapa-siapa, Kak Zayne. Gue cuma percaya diri aja.”

Inez tertawa kecil. “Yang penting seru-seruan aja nggak sih? Udah lama kita nggak kumpul bareng lagi.”

Sesampainya di lapangan. Begitu mereka masuk, suasana langsung terasa berbeda.

Lapangan sudah kosong. Tapi …,

Ada seseorang di tengahnya.

Sylus.

Dia sudah di sana, sangat terlihat siap, bahkan sudah memegang bola.

Dan ekspresinya … serius.

Sedikit jauh di sampingnya, Xavier menenggak minuman dengan santai, tapi jelas ia terlihat siap bermain juga.

“Lama,” kata Sylus begitu mereka mendekat.

Caleb mengangkat alis. “Macet.”

Rafayel melihat sekeliling, lalu kembali ke Sylus. “Kamu serius banget deh mukanya, Kak.”

Sylus tidak tersenyum. “Memang.”

Inez memperhatikan itu, dan sesuatu langsung berubah di dalam dirinya.

“Oh,” gumamnya pelan.

Zayne meliriknya sekilas. “Now you know.”

Inez mengangguk kecil.

Ini bukan sekadar pertandingan persahabatan semata.

Rafayel yang sedari tadi masih santai, sekarang mulai meregangkan otot-ototnya.

Caleb mengatur pernafasan dengan lebih hati-hati.

Xavier memutar bola di tangannya dengan antusias.

Zayne sudah melangkah ke tengah lapangan dengan tenang.

Dan Inez mengikat rambutnya lebih tinggi, sebagai tanda bahwa ia pun sudah siap.

“Berasa balik ke masa lalu,” katanya pelan.

Zayne menoleh sedikit, sebelum mengusap lembut kepala gadisnya. “Kapten tim puteri, kan?”

Inez tersenyum kecil. “Dulu, pas SMA.”

“Tetap sama, di mata saya. Keren.” jawabnya, membuat pipi bulat Inez bersemu kemerahan.

Sylus melempar bola ke arah Caleb.

“Ready?” ucapnya seraya menyeringai yakin.

“As always.” Ucap Caleb tak kalah percaya diri.

Rafayel mengikat tali sepatunya lebih kencang. “Oke. Ini bukan bercandaan lagi.”

Xavier yang mendengarnya hanya tertawa kecil. “Dari awal juga bukan, Raf.”

Sylus melangkah ke tengah lapangan. Menatap mereka semua satu per satu.

“Tiga lawan tiga.”

Tidak ada senyum.

Tidak ada basa-basi.

“Kita main sampai tuntas.”

Dan saat itu, semua dari mereka tahu.

Ini memang siblings battle.

Tapi … tidak akan ada yang menahan diri.

Quarter Pertama.

Tidak ada peluit yang dibunyikan, namun semua tahu kalau permainan sudah dimulai.

Bola pertama langsung dikuasai oleh Zayne.

Dan seperti yang sudah diduga. Langkahnya tenang, dribble-nya rendah, rapi, hampir tidak bersuara. Belum lagi dilengkapi oleh kedua suadaranya yang dengan kompak membentuk barikade di sekitarnya secara spontan. Nampak di sisi kanan, Sylus sudah bergerak membuka ruang, lalu kirinya, terdapat Xavier yang siap menerima operan bola.

“Go,” ucap Zayne singkat.

Dan Dragons langsung bermain seperti satu kesatuan sistem tepat sejak detik pertama permainan.

Operan mereka satu sama lain terlihat sangat cepat. Rotasi posisi pun nyaris tanpa cela.

“Wah,” gumam Rafayel sambil mencoba mengejar Xavier. “Mereka latihan ya semalem?”

“Fokus, Dek!” sahut Caleb singkat.

Terlambat.

Bola yang tadinya ada di depan Rafayel kini sudah kembali ke tangan Sylus, dan …,

SHOOT

Masuk tepat pada keranjang.

“Dua kosong,” kata Xavier santai, sambil terkekeh pelan.

Rafayel mendengus. “Baru mulai, jangan sombong dulu ya anda.”

Wolves tidak panik. Dan justru … santai. Sangat bertolak belakang dengan Dragons.

Caleb yang membawa bola sekarang. Dribble-nya lebih berat, dan lebih agresif dibanding Zayne.

“Main lepas aja, Dek.” Katanya tanpa melihat ke belakang.

“Siap,” jawab Inez dan Rafayel bersamaan.

Operan bola kini ke Rafayel karena posisi Inez kurang menguntungkan di mata Caleb, Sylus ada di dekatnya. Maka ia segera beralih ke kanan, gerakan Caleb sangat cepat, bahkan dihiasi dengan beberapa gerakan mengecoh juga.

Tapi Zayne sudah ada di sana. “Terbaca,” katanya pelan.

Bola pun direbut.

Dragons kembali menyerang.

Dan lagi … ritme mereka rapi, presisi, efisien dan sulit terbaca lawan.

Operan ke Xavier, lalu ke Sylus dan kembali ke Zayne.

SHOOT

Masuk.

“Empat kosong,” Xavier mengangkat alis, terlihat sengaja lebih memancing emosi tim lawan.

Rafayel berhenti sebentar, menaruh tangan di pinggang. “Oke. Gue mulai kesel.”

Caleb hanya menatap ke arah lawan, pikirannya jelas berjalan cepat.

“Mereka terlalu rapi mainnya,” gumamnya sambil menyeka keringat di dahi.

Sementara di sampingnya, Inez memperhatikan dengan seksama.

Diam-diam gadis itu mengamati setiap gerakan, setiap pola, dan naluri lama dari seorang kapten di dalam dirinya bangkit lagi.

“Kak,” panggilnya pelan.

Caleb menoleh sedikit.

“Ada satu celah.”

Rafayel langsung mendekat. “Apaan?”

Inez tidak langsung menjawab.

Matanya tertuju pada satu orang.

Zayne.

“Bola selalu kembali ke dia,” lanjutnya.

Caleb menyeringai tipis. “Point guard.”

Rafayel ikut menyeringai. “Oke. Jadi?”

Inez menarik napas kecil. “Let me.”

Dua saudaranya langsung saling pandang.

Lalu … senyum yang sama muncul.

“Gas,” kata Caleb.

“Gue dukung penuh, drama ini,” tambah Rafayel sambil terkekeh.

Serangan berikutnya. Dragons kembali memegang bola.

Seperti biasa, alur dimulai dari Zayne. Dia menggiring pelan, mengatur ritme.

Tapi kali ini ada yang berbeda.

Inez maju. Langsung ke arahnya.

Zayne sedikit mengangkat alis.

“Kamu?”

“Aku,” jawabnya ringan, sambil tersenyum manis, sengaja.

Satu detik.

Dua detik.

Dan Zayne mulai kembali bergerak … perlahan dribble ke arah kanan, sedikit ragu.

Dan tepat pada saat itu …,

SWOOSH

Bola hilang.

Inez sudah berbalik cepat dengan bola yang ia pantulkan sambil berlari ke arah Rafayel. “Adek!”

Operan cepat.

SHOOT

Masuk.

Sunyi sepersekian detik.

“Oke,” kata Xavier pelan, menyadari adanya permainan psikologis di sini.

Sylus menyipitkan mata sedikit, lalu mendengus pelan.

Sementara Zayne masih menatap tangannya sebentar.

Lalu beralih ke arah Inez.

“Menarik.”

“Me? I know, baby.” Gadis itu bahkan mengecup lembut pipi kekasihnya sebelum berlari kembali ke posisinya.

Dan hal itu terus terjadi lagi dan lagi.

Zayne memegang bola.

Inez merebutnya seketika.

Direbut kembali oleh Zayne, dengan lembut.

Dan tentu saja bola itu tidak lama berada di genggamannya saat sang gadis sudah kembali berlari mendekat dan menggapai bola tersebut sambil tersenyum manis.

Caleb tertawa pendek. “Bagus!”

Operan cepat ke Caleb dan …,

SWOOSH

Masuk.

Skor mulai mendekat.

Rafayel semakin semangat. “NAH GITU DONG!”

Xavier menggeleng sambil tersenyum. “Gila juga mereka.”

Sylus menjawab datar. “Susah kalau sudah perasaannya yang kena.”

Sekarang suasana berubah, Zayne tidak lagi santai, dia menatap Inez dengan lebih fokus dan serius.

“Kamu mengincarku,” katanya pelan, dan itu bukan sebuah pertanyaan.

Inez tersenyum kecil. “Oh c’mon love, it’s just a game.”

Zayne tidak membalas, tapi cara dia berdiri kini sudah berubah.

Lebih siap.

Percobaan berikutnya, dan bola sudah berada di tangan Zayne lagi.

Semua terdiam.

Dia mulai dribble dengan pelan, seperti biasa.

Mencoba membaca raut wajah wanita di hadapannya yang sialnya, tidak terbaca sama sekali. Atau setidaknya di mata Zayne, karena saat gadis itu tersenyum, semua fokusnya buyar.

Dan benar saja, tidak lama Inez maju. Langkahnya ringan saja, tapi presisi.

Zayne sempat mencoba mengubah tempo, dribble bolanya semakin cepat, dan …,

Hampir berhasil.

Namun tetap bisa kembali direbut, kali ini bahkan dengan gerakan yang lebih bersih.

Rafayel sampai hampir mengumpat. “GILA!”

Caleb tertawa. “That’s my sis!”

Inez berlari ke depan tanpa menoleh sedikitpun pada Zayne, lalu …,

SHOOT

Masuk.

Bersamaan dengan itu babak quarter pertama berakhir, dengan hasil skor mereka yang imbang.

Xavier mengusap tengkuknya. “Kita harus ubah strategi.”

Sylus mengangguk pelan. “Sekarang juga.”

Zayne masih diam, menatap ke arah Inez sesaat, sebelum akhirnya kembali pada kedua saudaranya. Lalu berkata pelan, “Oke.”

Sementara di sisi lain, Rafayel menepuk pundak kakak perempuannya dengan bangga. “Senjata rahasia kita.”

Caleb menyeringai. “Kapten Wolves.”

Inez hanya tersenyum kecil, sedikit terengah. Tapi matanya … tajam. Jiwa kompetisi itu rupanya masih ada di dalam dirinya.

Quarter Kedua

Permainan dilanjutkan tanpa banyak jeda. Namun suasananya sudah berubah.

Dragons tidak lagi bermain seperti di awal.

Dan Zayne … tidak lagi memaksakan diri memegang bola terlalu lama.

Begitu bola kembali ke tangan mereka, operan pertama tetap ke Zayne.

Tapi hanya sebentar.

Karena seperti yang sudah terbaca …,

Inez sudah menunggu.

Langkahnya tetap ringan. Namun matanya sefokus serigala, sesuai namanya.

Zayne bahkan belum sempat maju.

“Sekarang,” gumam Inez.

Dia bergerak, mengeksekusi dengan cepat dan tanpa cela, namun sebelum bola itu berhasil menempel pada telapak tangannya, Zayne langsung mengoper.

Ke Sylus.

“Syl,” katanya singkat.

Sylus menangkap dengan mudah.

Dan untuk pertama kalinya … dia yang memegang kendali penuh.

“Ah,” gumam Rafayel. “Gitu sekarang?”

Caleb langsung merapatkan penjagaan. “Sialnya, iya.”

Sylus mulai dribble. Berbeda dari Zayne, gerakan dia tidak halus.

Tapi jauh lebih kuat, lebih tegas, lebih … dominan. Dan itu terbaca dengan sangat jelas.

“Kamu nggak bakal dapat bola dariku,” katanya datar ke arah Inez.

Inez tersenyum kecil. “Yakin?”

Dengan itu Sylus menyerang, langkah-langkahnya panjang, tubuh tegapnya bergerak dengan stabil

Caleb mencoba menahan, hingga membuat benturan ringan, tapi Sylus tetap lolos.

Oper ke Xavier, lalu ke Zayne dan kembali lagi ke dirinya.

SHOOT.

Masuk.

“Nice,” kata Xavier santai.

Rafayel mendecak. “Oke. Kali ini beda. Beda banget bahkan, sial!”

Beberapa menit berikutnya, pertahanan Wolves mulai ditekan.

Dragons bermain dengan lebih fleksibel sekarang.

Zayne tetap bergerak, tapi semuanya mengalir lewat Sylus.

Inez mencoba mendekat, mencari celah.

Tapi … tidak semudah sebelumnya.

“Dia nggak baca bola kayak Zayne,” gumamnya pelan.

Caleb di sampingnya menjawab singkat “Dia baca gerakan badan, Dek.”

Dan itu sangat terasa di permainan.

“Belum nyerah?” tanya Sylus datar.

Inez tidak mundur, dan bahkan membalasnya dengan kekehan santai. “Kenapa? Udah mulai capek?”

Mendengarnya membuat ego Sylus sedikit tersentil.

Maka seketika ia mengubah arah permainan, gerakannya jadi super cepat.

Tapi yang mengejutkan, Inez masih tetap bisa mengikuti.

Dan di momen itu Sylus semakin mempercepat tempo permainannya.

Inez mencoba merebut bola lagi, tapi …,

Terjadi sebuah dorongan kecil. Reflek dan tidak sengaja, yang sialnya cukup membuatnya kehilangan keseimbangan, dan …,

BRAK.

Gadis itu jatuh, tersungkur, tubuhnya menghantam lantai dengan cukup keras.

Seketika suara sepatu berhenti berdecit, bola pun berhenti memantul.

Semua diam untuk sepersekian detik.

“Inez.” Akhirnya Zayne sadar akan apa yang baru saja terjadi.

Namun Caleb sudah lebih dulu bergerak. “Dek!”

Rafayel juga langsung berlutut di sampingnya. “Kak, kamu oke?!”

Xavier ikut mendekat. “Itu tadi keras banget jatuhnya. Istirahat dulu aja.”

Sementara Sylus masih berdiri diam. Menatap ke arah Inez, seolah tidak yakin akan apa yang baru saja terjadi.

Inez memejamkan mata sebentar, menarik napas dalam-dalam.

Sakit? Jelas.

Tapi saat ia membuka mata, ia paham sekali bahwa ini hanyalah salah satu resiko dari olah raga yang sudah ia tekuni sejak dulu.

“Aku nggak apa-apa,” katanya pelan.

“Apanya yang nggak apa-apa?!” protes Caleb tegas.

Rafayel masih panik. “Lo jatuhnya kenceng banget tadi, Kak!”

Zayne sudah di hadapannya sekarang.

Berlutut.

Matanya memeriksa cepat, refleks seorang calon dokter.

“Lihat siku dan punggungnya,” tangan cekatan Zayne sudah memeriksa kemungkinan terjadinya dislokasi di beberapa sendi, yang syukurnya tidak ada.

Inez menatapnya lembut sambil tersenyum tipis. “Lagi mode dokter ya?”

“Mode Zayne apapun sekarang sama khawatirnya,” jawabnya serius.

Tak berselang lama, ia pun mencoba untuk kembali bangkit, menarik nafas dalam, lalu perlahan berdiri dengan bantuan Zayne.

Sedikit meringis, namun berhasil kembali berdiri.

Semua masih diam.

“Maaf, Nez.” Ucap Sylus. Singkat, tapi tulus.

Inez menggeleng kecil dan tersenyum. “Namanya juga lagi tanding.”

Namun justru adiknya yang langsung protes. “LO BARU AJA JATUH, KAK!”

Sang kakak juga menatapnya ragu.“Yakin bisa lanjut?”

Inez mengangguk, ringan. “Aman, Kak.”

Lalu menatap ke arah Sylus.

“Kali ini aku bakal lebih hati-hati.” Sylus menjabat tangan Inez dengan sungguh-sungguh.

Quarter Ketiga

Permainan dimulai lagi.

Tapi ritmenya … sangat berbeda.

Tidak ada lagi tawa santai atau komentar iseng.

Yang ada sekarang adalah fokus dan fokus.

Bola pertama di quarter ini ada di tangan Caleb.

Dan sejak langkah pertamanya diambil, semua orang langsung tahu.

Dia berubah.

Dribble-nya lebih keras, lebih cepat, lebih kuat dan tajam.

“Kak,” gumam Inez pelan.

Dia bisa melihatnya.

Sang Kakak bukan sekadar ingin menang.

Tapi ada amarah di sana, rasa ingin melindungi dari seorang anak pertama pada adik-adiknya.

Dan benar saja …,

Caleb langsung maju, tidak banyak operan, tidak banyak basa-basi.

Dan menuju satu titik, Sylus yang kini sudah berada di depannya.

Mereka saling menatap.

Tidak ada kata terucap, tapi jelas …,

Keduanya mengerti.

Caleb menerobos. Benturan yang terjadi bahkan lebih keras dari sebelumnya.

Namun Sylus hanya berada pada posisi bertahan.

Tidak membalas lebih.

Caleb pun lolos dengan mudah.

SHOOT.

Masuk.

Namun tidak ada selebrasi. Dia hanya berbalik dan sedikit mengusap peluhnya di dahi.

“Main santai dikit, Kak,” kata Rafayel, mencoba mencairkan suasana.

“Aku santai kok,” jawab Caleb singkat.

“Santai apanya? Tatapan mata Kakak tuh udah bisa buat motong apel jadi dua,” balas Rafayel sedikit bercanda.

Inez mendekat perlahan. “Aku beneran nggak apa-apa, Kak.”

Caleb tidak langsung menjawab.

“Aku tahu.”

“Tapi kamu marah,” lanjut Inez.

“Aku cuma main serius, lagi imbangin mereka aja.”

Inez tersenyum kecil. Dia tahu jawaban Caleb tak sepenuhnya salah.

Di sisi lain.

Zayne memperhatikan. Xavier pun ikut diam.

Sylus melangkah maju sedikit.

“Aku yang jaga dia,” katanya pelan.

Zayne mengangguk. “Jangan terpancing emosi.”

“Aku tahu.”

Bola kembali di tangan Caleb.

Dia maju.

Sylus menunggu.

Langkah ke kiri …,

Terbaca.

Langkah ke kanan …,

Ditahan.

Caleb mencoba masuk dengan paksa. Menyebabkan ada benturan lagi.

Lebih keras, tapi …,

Sylus tidak membalas dengan emosi.

Dia tetap tenang, tetap memainkan pertandingan dengan stabil.

“Aku paham, Cal …,” katanya pelan.

Caleb berhenti sepersekian detik. “Apa?”

“Perasaanmu.” Tidak ada nada mengejek, atau tantangan seperti sebelumnya.

“Aku juga kakak pertama,” lanjutnya.

Sunyi sejenak.

Lalu permainan kembali berlanjut.

Caleb mengoper ke Inez, dan ia menerima bola dengan lebih hati-hati sekarang.

Rafayel langsung bergerak ke sisi kosong. “Oper sini!”

Inez tidak langsung mengoper ke adiknya, sejenak ia melihat Caleb dulu.

“Kak,” panggilnya.

Caleb menoleh sedikit.

“Aku masih di sini, dan aku nggak apa-apa.” Sederhana saja kalimat itu, tapi cukup untuk membuat Caleb lebih tenang.

Si bungsu ikut menyahut, “Dan ada gue juga! Tenang aja, kita bertiga, lo nggak sendirian, Kak!”

Caleb menghembuskan napas pelan.

Sedikit tersenyum, tapi cukup untuk menurunkan tensinya.

“Main rapi,” katanya pelan.

Inez tersenyum kecil.

Rafayel langsung mengangkat jempol. “Nah gitu dong!”

Sekarang permainan kembali seimbang

Wolves bermain lebih terarah.

Caleb tetap agresif, tapi tidak lagi meledak-ledak.

Inez pun kembali ke ritme awalnya. Membaca permainan dengan teliti.

Rafayel menjadi pembangkit energi dalam timnya. Gerakannya cepat, lincah dan berisik seperti biasa.

Di sisi Dragons …,

Zayne tetap presisi.

Xavier tetap gesit.

Dan Sylus tetap jadi penyeimbang.

Akhir quarter ketiga, skor masih ketat.

Tidak ada yang benar-benar unggul jauh.

Tapi suasana menjadi cenderung lebih stabil.

Caleb berjalan kembali ke sisi lapangan.

Napasnya masih berat karena menahan emosi.

Melihat itu Inez mendekat. “Makasih, Kak.”

“Kenapa?”

“Karena udah khawatirin aku.”

Caleb menghela napas kecil. “Itu tugasku sejak kamu dan Rafa lahir.”

Rafayel langsung nyelonong di antara mereka. “Dan tugas gue adalah bikin kita menang!”

Inez hanya tertawa kecil.

Caleb menggeleng sambil terkekeh.

Quarter Empat

Babak terakhir dimulai dengan sesuatu yang tidak terduga.

Bukan Caleb yang mengambil alih.

Bukan Zayne pula yang mengatur ritme.

Bukan juga Sylus yang mengendalikan permainan.

Bahkan bukan Inez yang mampu mengamati pola pertandingan dengan seksama.

“Gue ambil,” kata Rafayel, hampir tanpa permisi, saat bola pertama quarter ini jatuh ke tangan Wolves.

Caleb melirik sebentar. Biasanya dia akan komentar.

Tapi kali ini dia hanya mengangguk.

“Go.”

Rafayel langsung bergerak.

Cepat, lincah, ringan dan tanpa beban.

Di sisi lain, Xavier sudah siap menyambut.

“Akhirnya,” katanya kecil, senyum tipisnya muncul.

Permainan berubah nada, kalau sebelumnya terasa penuh strategi dan tekanan. Sekarang menjadi lebih hidup dan cair.

Rafayel jago di dribble cepat, gerakannya bahkan hampir terlihat seperti menari.

Xavier pun mengejar, tapi bukan dengan tegang melainkan dengan antusias.

“Lambat, lo!” teriak Rafayel.

“Lo berisik,” balas Xavier santai.

Gerakan Rafayel sangat bersih, mengecoh pun selalu berhasil, lalu oper ke kedua kakaknya bergantian hingga bola kembali lagi ke tangannya, dan …

SHOOT.

Masuk.

“YES!” Rafayel tertawa puas.

Sementara Xavier hanya tersenyum. “Lumayan juga, lo.”

Dragons dan Wolves tidak lagi saling menekan dengan keras.

Permainan mereka kini jauh lebih mengalir.

Operan jadi lebih bebas. Gerakan pun makin spontan.

Dan di tengah itu semua, Rafayel dan Xavier seperti pusat gravitasi baru.

Dua sahabat sejak kecil. Dua orang yang sudah terbiasa saling memahami.

“Dih … kiri lo, Xav!”

“Udah tau gue, Raf!”

“Raf, fokus juga belakang lo!”

“Gue nggak butuh diingetin, Xav!”

Tawa mulai muncul lagi.

Sementara angka terus naik untuk kedua tim.

Saling kejar dengan cepat.

84 …,
86 …,
88 …,

Dan akhirnya skor tim mereka benar-benar imbang.

“Delapan puluh delapan!” teriak Rafayel.

Xavier mengangguk. “Last shot.”

Detik-detik terakhir permainan.

Bola ada di tangan Xavier.

Dia maju …,

Rafayel menghadang.

Gerakan Xavier kini lebih cepat.

Bola dioper ke Zayne …,

Dan Inez langsung bergerak.

Tapi Zayne tidak lagi menahan bola, melainkan ia oper cepat ke Sylus.

Dan di momen itu semua seperti melambat.

Sylus berdiri di luar garis tiga poin.

Caleb melihat.

Inez berhenti.

Zayne diam.

Rafayel dan Xavier pun menanti.

Semua tahu.

Ini …,

Momen dia.

Hari ini …,

Ulang tahunnya.

Dan ini memang …,

Permainannya.

Sylus menarik napas sejenak.

Mengambil ancang-ancang bahkan tanpa perlu maju mendekat, sengaja.

Memang itu yang ia incar, tiga poin akhir yang menentukan segalanya.

SWOOSH.

Masuk.

Beberapa detik terasa sunyi, hingga …,

“GILAAA!” Rafayel langsung teriak.

Xavier tertawa kecil. “As expected.”

Zayne mengangguk tipis dengan tatapan bangga. “That’s my brother.”

Caleb menghela napas panjang, lalu tersenyum kecil. “Great job.”

Inez menatap ke arah Sylus, lalu tersenyum hangat.
“Happy birthday, Syl.”

Sylus mengusap peluh di dahinya.

“Terima kasih.”

Tidak berlebihan ataupun dramatis. Namun cukup membuat suasana paska pertandingan menjadi lebih dingin.

Rafayel masih menggeleng. “Gue masih nggak terima, tapi gue salut sih ama permainan lo, Kak Syl.”

Xavier menyenggol bahunya. “Accept the defeat, Bro.”

“Gue nggak kalah ya! Gue cuma … hampir menang.”

Dan itu berhasil membuat keadaan semakin cair.

Zayne berdiri di samping Sylus, menepuk bahunya pelan.

“Penutup permainan yang baik.”

Sylus mengangguk. “Thanks.”

Kini pinggir lapangan terasa hangat.

Bukan hanya karena sinar mentari yang menelisik masuk dari celah jendela, tapi karena tawa yang mulai kembali di tengah-tengah mereka, dan rasa lega setelah permainan panjang itu akhirnya selesai.

Mereka duduk berjejer. Ada yang selonjoran, ada yang menyender ke dinding, ada yang masih sibuk minum.

Dan saat itu Sylus duduk sedikit lebih ke tengah.

Diam sejenak. Lalu menarik napas.

“Inez.”

Gadis itu menoleh pelan. “Iya?”

“Maaf ya, yang tadi itu.”

Inez tersenyum kecil, sambil menggeleng. “Aku juga main serius kok tadi.”

“Tapi kamu sampai jatuh.”

“Itu bagian dari permainan, Syl …,” jawabnya ringan.

Sylus mengangguk, tapi permintaan maafnya belum usai.

Dia menoleh ke arah lain. “Cal …,”

Tidak ada jawaban.

Dia menoleh lagi.

Dan baru sadar, kalau Caleb sudah tidak ada di sana.

Rafayel langsung nyengir. “Dari tadi juga nggak ada, Kak.”

“Balik?” tanya Sylus.

“Iya tadi langsung cabut,” jawab Rafayel santai.

Sylus terdiam.

Lalu menunduk sedikit.

“Marah banget ya dia.” Dan itu bukan sebuah pertanyaan.

Di sampingnya, Xavier menyender santai.
“Kak Caleb sedih mungkin, tadi adiknya jatuh.”

“Iya, aku paham. Aku juga kakak tertua seperti dia. Jadi semakin merasa nggak enak.”

Zayne yang sejak tadi diam akhirnya bicara. “Dia butuh waktu.”

Sylus mengangguk pelan.

Tidak membantah.

“Maaf juga ya,” lanjutnya pelan, kali ini ke arah Xavier dan Zayne.

Xavier langsung mengibaskan tangan. “Lah, gue malah seneng. Seru.”

Zayne hanya menatap sebentar. “Permainan tadi cukup efektif.”

Inez tertawa kecil. “Itu cara dia bilang ‘nggak apa-apa’.”

Suasana mulai cair lagi.

Rafayel bahkan sudah kembali ribut sendiri.

“Gue tetep bilang kita harusnya menang.”

“Lo kalah, Raf …,” potong Xavier bercanda.

“Nyaris menang.”

“Tetep aja kalah.”

Inez tertawa, sambil menyandarkan kepalanya pada pundak Zayne.

Dan di tengah semua itu, Sylus masih sedikit tenggelam dalam pikirannya sendiri.

Sampai …,

“WOI.”

Semua menoleh.

Di sana Caleb berdiri.

Dengan sebuah kotak yang lumayan besar di tangannya.

Sylus mengangkat kepala.

Sedikit terkejut.

“Caleb.”

Caleb berjalan mendekat.

Wajahnya masih datar seperti biasa.

“Nih, met ultah,” ucapnya singkat, sambil menyodorkan kotak itu.

Sylus tidak langsung mengambilnya.

“Apa ini?”

Rafayel langsung nyengir lebar. “Buka aja sih, Kak. Itu dari kita semua.”

Inez menahan senyum.

Xavier terlihat semangat.

Zayne memperhatikan dengan tenang.

Dan Sylus akhirnya membuka kotak itu perlahan.

Begitu dia melihat isinya …,

Dia diam.

Sebuah helm.

Dengan desain keren dan warna hitam dof yang dia suka. Detail yang … terlalu familiar untuknya.

“Ini…,” suaranya hampir tidak keluar.

Inez tersenyum hangat. “Yang kamu incar itu kan?”

Rafayel langsung menyahut, “Yang katanya mau lo beli nanti pake gaji pertama lo?”

Xavier ikut menambahkan, “Jadi kita percepat aja.”

Zayne turut membuka suara dengan tenang. “Lebih efisien seperti itu, bisa langsung dipakai sekarang.”

Sylus masih menatap helm di tangannya.

Lama.

“Kalian ….”

Dia tidak melanjutkan.

Caleb menyilangkan tangan. “Jangan baper dulu.”

“Coba cek dulu,” lanjutnya santai.

Sylus mengernyit. “Apa?”

Rafayel sudah mulai ketawa. “Coba aja cek belakangnya, Kak.”

Dengan sedikit curiga, Sylus membalik helm itu.

Dan membaca dengan sedikit keras, “Made with love.”

Dia berhenti sesaat dan semuanya tertawa.

“ITU STIKER!” Rafayel tertawa kencang. “Gue yang tempel tadi!”

Xavier sampai menunduk sambil tertawa. “Jadi kayak helm murah, anjir.”

Inez ikut tertawa. “Maaf ya, Syl.”

Zayne menggeleng pelan, tapi jelas dia juga menahan senyum.

Sylus menghela napas panjang, lalu untuk pertama kalinya hari itu dia pun tertawa.

“Konyol.”

Caleb menyeringai tipis. “Biar nggak tegang terus.”

“Tapi merek helm itu asli kok,” tambahnya.

Sylus menatapnya, dan mengangguk kecil. “Thank you.”

Tentu saja bukan hanya untuk helm yang ada di tangannya, namun lebih ke perhatian yang ia dapatkan dari orang-orang terdekatnya.

Rafayel yang dari tadi sudah kembali ke mode ‘ribut default’ tiba-tiba menepuk tangannya sekali.

“Oke, cukup.”

Semua langsung menoleh.

“Apa lagi?” tanya Xavier sambil menyandarkan kepala ke tembok di belakangnya.

Rafayel berdiri, lalu menunjuk ke arah Sylus dengan ekspresi serius, yang jelas dibuat-buat.

“Kita belum denger pidato resmi.”

Sylus mengangkat alis. “Pidato apa?”

“Pesan dan kesan,” lanjut Rafayel mantap. “Sebagai birthday boy hari ini.”

Inez langsung menutup mulut, menahan tawa. “Oh no ….”

Zayne melirik sekilas, lalu kembali tenang. “Ini tidak perlu.”

“PERLU!” potong Rafayel cepat. “Ini sebuah tradisi.”

“Sejak kapan?” tanya Xavier sedikit terkekeh.

“Barusan gue buat.”

Sylus menghela napas panjang. “Tidak ada yang perlu disampaikan.”

“Ada,” sahut Rafayel tanpa ampun. “Ayo berdiri. Formal dikit deh.”

Caleb yang sejak tadi diam akhirnya buka suara. “Sekalian aja, biar cepat.”

Semua langsung menoleh ke arah Caleb.

Rafayel nyengir lebar. “Nah, kakak tertua kita aja setuju.”

Inez sudah benar-benar tertawa sekarang. “Ayo, Sylus. Sekali ini aja.”

Zayne menyilangkan tangan. “Singkat saja.”

Xavier menambahkan, “Dan jelas.”

Sylus menatap mereka satu per satu.

Lalu melihat helm di sampingnya.

Dan kembali ke mereka.

Hingga dia berdiri perlahan.

“Baiklah.”

Sylus menatap ke depan, seolah benar-benar sedang pidato.

“Pesan dan kesan.”

Jeda sejenak untuk mengambil nafas.

“Permainan hari ini … tidak buruk.”

Xavier langsung menahan tawa.

“Lawan cukup kompeten,” lanjutnya.

Rafayel langsung protes. “HANYA CUKUP?!”

“Tim kami sendiri juga keren,” tambah Sylus tanpa merubah ekspresi.

Inez menunduk, bahunya bergetar menahan tawa.

“Kesimpulannya,” lanjut Sylus.

“Kita harus sering bermain bersama lagi.”

Zayne mengangguk tipis. “Setuju.”

Rafayel pun mengangguk. “Gue juga setuju, tapi ini bukan pidato, ini laporan!”

Sylus mengabaikan.

“Demikian pesan dan kesan saya, terima kasih,” ujarnya di akhir kalimat.

Selesai.

Dia duduk lagi.

Lalu …,

“GITU DOANG?!” Rafayel langsung meledak.

Xavier tertawa lepas sekarang.

Inez menepuk tangan kecil. “Aduh lucu banget lagi.”

Zayne hanya berkata pelan, “Sesuai ekspektasi.”

Caleb menggeleng sedikit, tapi ada senyum tipis di wajahnya. “Ya, itulah dia.”

Rafayel masih belum terima. “Enggak, enggak. Ulang. Yang lebih emosional dikit!”

Sylus meliriknya datar. “Tidak.”

“Yaelah!” Rafayel duduk lagi di lantai.

Dan tawa pun kembali pecah di antara mereka.

Tawa mereka perlahan mereda.

Rafayel yang tadi paling ribut sekarang sudah selonjoran lagi, masih sesekali terkekeh sendiri. Xavier sibuk memutar bola di tangannya. Inez masih menyender santai di pundak Zayne, sementara Caleb menenggak minumannya.

Dan tepat pada saat semua sudah lebih tenang, Sylus kembali membuka suara.

“Terima kasih.”

Semua orang langsung sedikit menoleh ke arahnya.

“Untuk datang,” lanjutnya pelan. “Untuk main bareng.”

Menghela nafas sesaat sebelum akhirnya kembali berucap, “Untuk hari ini.”

Rafayel yang biasanya langsung nyeletuk, kali ini diam.

“Aku tahu kalian semua sibuk.”

Matanya bergeser ke Zayne. “Udah mulai koas kan.”

Lalu ke Inez, “Dan kamu, udah mulai magang di kementerian luar negeri.”

Sekilas ke Xavier dan Rafayel, “Kalian lagi banyak-banyaknya tugas di kampus.”

Lalu ke arah Caleb. “Lo juga bakalan mulai stay di akademi penerbangan kan bulan depan.”

“Tapi semuanya tetap datang di sini.”

Ucapannya sedikit terhenti.

“Buatku, itu udah lebih dari cukup.”

Inez tersenyum duluan. Lembut.

“Ya iyalah kita datang,” jawabnya pelan. “Ini hari kamu, Syl.”

Caleb menyandarkan kepalanya ke belakang. “Lagipula seru.”

Rafayel mendecak pelan, tapi kali ini tanpa bercanda. “Ya masa kita nggak dateng sih, Kak.”

Beberapa detik, dan tidak ada yang bicara lagi.

Sampai akhirnya Caleb berdiri sedikit dari posisinya, lalu duduk lebih dekat ke arah Sylus.

“Jangan terlalu dipikirin, lo juga banyak beban kan? Jadi calon lawyer nggak gampang,” katanya sambil menepuk bahu Sylus.

Sylus pun menatapnya, lalu mengangguk kecil. “Iya.”

“Makasih,” tambah Caleb, lebih pelan.

Rafayel langsung menoleh. “Lah kok jadi lo yang makasih, Kak?”

Caleb menyenggol kepalanya ringan. “Udah diem.”

Dan dengan itu tawa kecil kembali menghangatkan suasana.

Namun di saat yang sama, Sylus — sebagai sesama sulung di keluarga, sangat paham dengan makna ucapan Caleb tadi.

Makasih untuk bertahan.
Makasih untuk terus berjuang.
Makasih untuk tidak menyerah.

-FIN-

https://medium.com/@Tayu_Yama/our-story-side-story-c08d0cd10e12

Linkon, late autumn.

The wind carried a soft chill that day, the kind that made the curtains flutter and the maple leaves whisper across the pavement. Their home was calm, wrapped in the golden hush of an autumn evening. Inside the living room, the warm light from a reading lamp bathed the scene in amber tones. Zayne sat quietly with a book on his lap, one arm resting behind Inez on the couch. Across from them, Aurora and Orion lay on their bellies on the carpet, giggling as they tried to outdraw each other on their sketchpads.

Inez had just finished a warm cup of chamomile tea, her head resting comfortably on Zayne’s shoulder. Her soul was full of love, of the day’s laughter, of that uniquely tender tiredness that came after parenting and diplomacy alike.

It was one of those rare, unremarkable evenings, the kind that slips into your memory without you realizing it’s precious.

Then her phone rang.

At first, she didn’t move. The sound cut through the softness of the moment, sharp and intrusive. She frowned faintly when she saw the name on the screen. It’s her mother, Mama Elena, and she almost never called at this hour.

For a second, she considered ignoring it, but something.. something in her bones, told her to answer.

“Hello?”

There was a pause. And then came Mama Elena’s voice.

It was steady. Too steady. Not the way her mother usually sounded. There were no affectionate greetings, no pet names, no gentle scolding about whether she’d eaten. Just her name.

“Inez.”

She straightened instinctively, her hand tightening around the phone. “Mama? Is everything alright?”

The silence that followed wasn’t long, but it swallowed her whole. She could hear her mother breathing on the other end, measured and careful, like she was holding herself together with both hands.

Then.. finally, came the words.

“Your Papa is no longer with us.”

Her mother’s voice didn’t break. There was no sob, no tremor. Just those words, delivered like a blow she’d already taken herself.

“He passed away.”

That was all she said.

Not how, not when, not where. Just.. ‘he’s gone’.

And that was enough.

Something inside her went terribly, impossibly still.

She didn’t cry, nor even just breathe. She sat frozen in that golden lit living room, her children’s laughter still spilling into the air happily, the sunset smiling tenderly, the wind blowing gently, as though the world hadn’t just tilted beneath her feet.

Her throat burned with all the words she couldn’t form.

Yet Zayne noticed before she said a thing. He felt it, the shift in her body against his, the sudden absence of her breath. He lowered the book slowly, his gaze softening, brows drawing together.

“Inez?” he asked, while gently touching her arm. “What is it?”

She couldn’t answer. The sound lodged in her chest like a stone.

Instead, she rose from the couch, slow and mechanical. Her bare feet made no sound against the rug. She walked past the living room, where Aurora was holding up her drawing proudly for Orion to see. Past the dining table where a vase of sunflowers leaned lazily toward the light, and where the hallway lined with frames capturing the photos of their wedding, their twins’ first steps, the family they’d built with their own hands.

Zayne stood up to follow her, worry etched in every line of his face. But when she reached the hallway, she turned once and meeting his gaze. Neither with panic, nor with fear, but with something deeper and heavier. A silent plea.

‘Don’t let them see.’

Then he stopped.. he understood.

In the bedroom, she closed the door softly behind her.

The moment it clicked shut, the weight she had been holding in her chest began to break.

Her back pressed against the wall as her knees gave out beneath her. She slid down slowly until she was sitting on the wooden floor, pulling her cardigan tighter around herself as though it could shield her from the truth that..

Her Papa.

Is gone.

Her Papa.. who had once lifted her onto his shoulders to hang paper lanterns. He who had never raised his voice but had led the Wolfgang family with the strength of a steel wrapped in velvet.

He who taught his children to be tough but loving. He who made sure all of his children were raised to be ready to face the world.

The man who walked her down the aisle, his proud eyes misted behind his strict expression.

An that man..

Is gone.

It didn’t feel real.

She pressed a hand against her mouth to hold back the sound clawing its way out of her throat. But grief is a living thing, it finds cracks to spill through. A strangled sob escaped anyway, muffled and raw.

On the other side of the door, she could faintly hear the twins’ laughter carrying throughout the house. That small, happy sound felt like an anchor and a knife at once.

She wanted to scream, to let herself shatter, but she couldn’t. Not now.. not when her children could hear.

So then she swallowed the howl in her chest, forcing it down where it burned like acid, and hugged her knees to her chest, rocking faintly as the silence around her deepened.

Zayne stood in the hallway, one hand braced against the door, his jaw tight as he listened to the faintest sounds on the other side of it. The shaky breath, the quiet sobs she tried so hard to contain. He wanted to go in, to wrap her up in his arms, to carry this weight for her. But he also knew she needed this moment, this small cocoon of privacy where she could break without being seen.

A few minutes passed before the door creaked open gently. Zayne stepped inside, careful, quiet, as though afraid that even his presence might shatter her further.

Inez sat on the floor, curled against the side of the bed, her knees pulled up tight to her chest. Her face was hidden in the shadows, but her trembling shoulders gave her out. Her phone lay discarded beside her, the screen dark now, as if the world itself had fallen silent.

She didn’t look up when he entered. She couldn’t. She didn’t want him to see her like this, not yet.. not when the image of her father lingered still behind her eyes like a fading photograph she wasn’t ready to let go of.

Zayne didn’t call her name, didn’t even ask her questions. He just simply crossed the room slowly, each step deliberate, his breath steady though his chest felt like it was caving in.

He lowered himself to the floor beside her, his knees brushing hers, and without hesitation, he gathered her into his arms.

It wasn’t tight, or crushing, nor was it demanding. It was quiet and careful, as if he was holding something fragile that might break if he breathed too hard. His chin came to rest lightly on her shoulder, his chest pressed against her back, his warmth enveloping her like a promise she hadn’t asked for but desperately needed.

For a while, there were no words. Just the sound of her shallow, uneven breaths and the faint rustle of the maple leaves outside the window. He let her feel it all out without interruption. The weight of it, the disbelief, the ache too deep to be spoken.

And then it happened.

A single tear slipped down her cheek again, catching on the edge of her jaw before it fell onto his arm. Then another. And another.

Until finally she leaned into him, her forehead pressing against the curve of his neck as though anchoring herself to something solid in a world that suddenly wasn’t. Her entire frame trembled, her hands clutched at his sleeve.

And then the dam broke.. not in sobs loud enough to echo, but in quiet, devastating breaths, the kind of grief too deep to scream about.

“Zayne..” Her voice cracked calling out his name. It was so small, so unlike her. “Papa is gone.”

The words splintered as they left her, like a glass breaking in slow motion. “He’s really gone.”

Zayne closed his eyes, his jaw tightening, and then he pulled her closer, he held her as if he could somehow protect her from the world and reality itself. His breath was slow and controlled, but she felt it hitched against her shoulder.

“Oh, my love..” His voice was low, almost hoarse, a whisper full of helplessness and ache.

“I didn’t even..” She struggled for breath, words tangled between sobs. “I didn’t even say goodbye. I thought we had more time.”

Zayne pressed his forehead gently against hers, letting his silence cradle her until he found words soft enough to hold the weight of hers.

“You loved him every single day,” he whispered, voice steady despite the cracks threading through his chest. “And he knew it. He carried it with him, Inez.”

But that only made her cry even harder. Her fingers twisted into his shirt, clutching as though he was the only thing tethering her to the ground.

“I wasn’t there,” she whispered, guilt breaking her voice into splinters. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve.. ”

Zayne shook his head gently, pulling her against him as though he could physically shield her from her own blame.

“No,” he breathed, almost fierce in his quietness. “Don’t. You were here. You were raising our children. Living the life he wanted for you. That was enough. I promise you, my love.. it was enough.”

The word of endearment broke her completely. She buried her face in his chest, muffling the sound of her grief against the warmth of him.

Outside, the world went on. The maple leaves whispered. Somewhere down the hall, Aurora and Orion were still giggling happily, unaware of the ground beneath their mother that had shifted forever.

And that was the cruelest part.

She had to endure.

For them.

And Zayne knew it too. That’s why he held her tighter, his hand rubbing slow, steady circles against her back, anchoring her in silence.

Right now, she let herself break.

And Zayne was there to catch her every piece.

Later that night.

Aurora and Orion had already been tucked into bed. Zayne had knelt between their little beds, smoothing back Orion’s messy hair and pulling Aurora’s blanket up to her chin. They had asked the simplest, most innocent questions, the kind that made his chest tighten.

“Why isn’t Mama saying goodnight, Papa?” Aurora whispered, blinking sleepily.

“Your Mama’s just resting, sweetheart,” Zayne murmured gently, brushing his thumb across her forehead. “She’s.. just feeling a little sad tonight.”

Orion frowned, curling onto his side. “Did something bad happen, Papa?”

Zayne hesitated, his throat tight with the weight of things they couldn’t yet understand. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he whispered finally. “Mama loves you very much.”

Two small nods, soft sighs, and within minutes, they drifted into the fragile, undisturbed sleep of children.

But in the hallway, Inez leaned against the wall, listening. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest. She didn’t have the strength to step inside, not yet. Not tonight. She couldn’t face their curious eyes, when hers were still swollen and raw, not when her voice might break by just trying to say goodnight.

By the time the house had gone quiet, she found herself in the kitchen.

The lights were dim, casting pale shadows across the countertops, and the world outside was silent except for the distant rustling of leaves. She moved barefoot across the cold tiles, her body slow and deliberate, as if every step was heavier than the last.

She reached for a glass from the cabinet, her fingers brushed the edges carefully.. afraid of breaking something.

The faucet hummed softly as she filled it. She lifted the water to her lips, her hands were steady, but her heart.. her heart beats with a hollow ache, like an empty room echoing with memories.

Rafayel’s words came back to her suddenly, unbidden. Her younger brother had once told her over a quiet dinner, ‘Grief doesn’t always arrive like a storm. Sometimes, it comes like mist. Sometimes, it waits. It lingers until you’re quiet enough to feel it.’

And tonight, in the hush of her kitchen, she felt it everywhere. In her hands. In her throat. In the soft ache beneath her ribs.

Until the sound of footsteps behind her pulled her gently from her thoughts.

It’s Zayne.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just came to her side and draped a shawl carefully over her shoulders, his fingertips brushing against her arm as if grounding her to the present.

“I need to go home soon,” she whispered, her voice soft, cracked around the edges.

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll come with you.”

Then after a beat, he corrected himself quietly, like a promise.

“We’ll come. All four of us.”

Her lips parted as though to respond, but the words wouldn’t form. Instead, she simply nodded, and Zayne leaned in, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. The weight of his presence, solid and steady, was the only thing keeping her from unraveling completely.

Later, when she lay in bed again, this time with her head against Zayne’s chest and his arms around her, Inez stared out the window at the rustling trees. She remembered the smell of her father’s cologne. The way his laughter used to rumble in his chest. The steadiness of his voice. The way he once said, ‘I will always be proud of you, my little diplomat.’

She didn’t cry again that night.

Not because it didn’t hurt, but because the pain had already carved a space into her chest where her father would live forever.

And in that space between love and grief, she whispered one final thing before sleep took her, “goodnight, Papa.”

Berlin, the next day.

It was a quiet morning, yet the air felt unbearably heavy.

Inez insisted on going home first.

She had kissed her children softly in their sleep, left a gentle note for Zayne on the pillow, and slipped out just before sunrise. She didn’t want her little ones to see her cry, not yet. Not when her soul still felt so raw.

And now, there she stood again.

Home.

The towering iron gates of the Wolfgang estate opened slowly at her arrival. The gravel driveway whispered under her tires, leading her past the manicured trees and the ancient fountain, toward the very heart of her childhood.

The mansion looked the same, yet not. The windows still shimmered with morning dew, but the light no longer danced like it used to. It was as though the sun knew that Arthur Wolfgang no longer lived there.

Her car rolled to a stop, not far from the newly built mausoleum, the garden chapel Arthur himself designed long ago, never knowing it would one day hold his name in stone.

And that’s where her mother was.

Reina Uchinaga, who has been better known as Elena Wolfgang after marrying Arthur, dressed in black from head to toe, sat on the bench just beside the golden tombstone. Her fingers moved with aching slowness, gently tracing her husband’s engraved name, ‘Arthur Gunther Wolfgang.’ Beloved husband, fearless father, eternal guide.

Inez didn’t disturb her, not yet. Her heels tapped on the gravel path as she stepped out of her blush toned car. She stood still, her breath trembling.

Then the distant sound of engines roared near her. Two more vehicles pulled in, one deep orange, the other dark violet with a sleek obsidian finish. The signature rides of her brothers.

Caleb, the eldest, the one who’s following their father’s step into military. A young Colonel, the best Pilot Skyhaven’s ever had, was the first to step out.

He wore a jet black suit, crisp and sharp. No medals. No rank pins. Just himself, the man beneath the uniform. His hands were in his pockets, his eyes tired but steady. The kind of quiet grief only the eldest child knows.

From the violet car, Rafayel emerged. The youngest, the wild spirited artist their family always proud of.

Dressed in flowing dark layers that seemed tailored from ink and night itself. No paints on his fingertips today. No brushes in his bag. Just silence. His violet eyes lowered, lips pursed as if holding back a sea of memories.

The siblings didn’t speak.

They simply stood there, with Inez between them, like the bridge that always held them together.

All three faced forward. Toward her.

Their mother.

Elena didn’t turn around, not yet. She was lost in thought, perhaps unaware that her children had returned. Or perhaps.. too full of knowing.

Caleb was the first to move.

He walked forward, slow and steady like a soldier to his commanding officer, except this was his mother. He knelt beside her, one hand resting on the edge of the marble bench. His head bowed low while he said nothing.

Rafayel followed next. Unlike Caleb, he didn’t kneel. He sat cross legged in the grass, just in front of the tombstone. His fingers reached out, not to the stone, but to the red tulips blooming beside it. He gently picked one, pressed it to his lips, and placed it atop their father’s name.

Inez came last.

She didn’t speak either. She didn’t have to. Her presence said it all.

Elena looked at them one by one. Her children, dressed in the color of mourning, standing like sentinels of her heart. And then she did something unexpected. She reached for each of their hands, one by one, and pulled them close.

“You came back to me.” She said softly.

Tears finally spilled down Inez’s cheeks. Not the kind that fell loudly, but the kind that clung to her lashes like dew clinging to morning petals. She leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. Caleb wrapped one arm around them both. Rafayel didn’t rise, but rested his head against his mother’s knee like a child who no longer cared to pretend he was grown.

They stayed like that for a long time.

No words.

Just the breeze.

The sound of birds beginning to sing.

And the slow return of morning.

Later that day, the doors of the Wolfgang mansion opened wide.

Elena had asked the staff to prepare a quiet breakfast for just the four of them. No partners. No children. Just a mother and her three children, to remember the man who shaped them all.

The dining room hadn’t changed, the long mahogany table still gleamed, the crystal chandelier still sparkled.

But the seat at the head of the table, Arthur’s chair, was empty.

No one sat there.

Not even his wife, Elena.

They left it untouched. A silent tribute.

Caleb poured the tea. Inez set the pastries. Rafayel sliced the fruit. None of them spoke. No one asked what time the others would return. The world outside their gates didn’t matter today.

“We always thought he was invincible,” Rafayel finally whispered, staring at the steam rising from his cup. “Like one of his old watches.. ticking forever.”

“He was,” Caleb murmured. “To us, he still is.”

Inez closed her eyes. “I wish he could’ve seen Aurora and Orion start school. Just once.”

Their mother, sitting at the side of the table, finally spoke. “He did.”

The siblings looked at her in confusion.

She smiled faintly through her tears. “He saw the pictures. The night before.. he asked me to show him again. And again. He kept looking at Orion’s shy smile. At Aurora’s proud little stance. He said..” Her voice cracked. “He said they looked like leaders already, the true Wolfgang.”

A soft gasp left Inez’s lips.

Caleb’s jaw tightened.

Rafayel looked away.

“I wanted you all to know that,” she continued. “Even if he’s not here anymore.. he left knowing you were happy. That you had families. That you were safe. That his legacy.. lives in every one of your children.”

Silence filled the room once more.

That evening, as the sun began to dip beyond the hill, Inez stepped into the quiet garden one more time.

She reached her father’s tombstone again, alone this time.

She knelt down, her hand resting on the cool stone.

“I’ll take care of Mama,” she whispered. “The boys.. and the family.”

She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to the marble.

“I’ll make you proud.”

And from the wind.. from the rustle of leaves.. from the golden glow around her..

She swore she felt it.

His answer.

‘You already have, my little diplomat.. you already have.’

The next day

The day stretched long, like time itself didn’t want to move forward.

After the quiet breakfast and hours of silent remembrance, the Wolfgang mansion had returned to stillness. The garden breeze had grown gentler. The halls, though grand, echoed with absence. Yet in that space of sorrow, there was also something sacred, the kind of silence that only comes after a loss too big for words.

By late afternoon, the sound of an engine broke through the silence.

The front gates opened, and then came a sleek black sedan, steady and polished as ever.

Inez stepped onto the front steps just in time to see the car slow to a stop.

The door opened, and the first to tumble out was Orion, his backpack bounced behind him, filled with sketchbooks and pencils. Right after him came Aurora, in a soft blush cardigan, holding tightly onto a paper flower she had folded during the drive.

Behind them came their father, Dr. Zayne Li, calm and composed, his eyes scanned the mansion not as a doctor this time, but as a man stepping into his wife’s childhood home.

A home now mourning its patriarch.

“Mama!” Aurora chirped first, running toward Inez with open arms.

Inez bent down to catch her just in time, her arms wrapping around her daughter with a strength she didn’t know she still had. Orion followed next, wrapping his tiny arms around her from the side. Inez kissed both their heads, her hand trembled as she smoothed their soft hair.

Zayne approached slowly, letting the children have their moment. But when his eyes met Inez’s, she didn’t have to say a word. He knew. He stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her back, and kissed her forehead.

“You’ve been shouldering everything alone again,” he whispered.

“I had to,” she whispered back. “They weren’t ready.”

But then she realized..

She realized that she couldn’t keep hiding the truth from the kids, they are old enough to understand what it meant to say goodbye.

The twins hadn’t yet been told directly. Only that Grandpapa Arthur was ‘sick’ and that ‘Mama needed to go see him.’ But now, inside the house, they began to feel what couldn’t be said.

It started with little things.

The way Grandmama Elena didn’t smile when she greeted, yet only held them tighter than usual.

The way Caleb, their strong yet funny uncle, stayed quiet and knelt down to eye level instead of swinging them in the air like usual.

The way Uncle Rafayel didn’t have a paintbrush or sketchpad this time, only a black scarf tied around his wrist.

Aurora was the first to ask.

She held up the flower she had made, “is Grandpapa coming home soon?”

Everyone froze.

Orion, quiet as always, looked up at Inez, sensing something wrong in the adults’ eyes. “Mama.. where is Grandpapa?”

Inez knelt down.

Zayne immediately crouched beside her, one steady hand on her back. He could feel her body already beginning to tremble.

“Aurora.. Orion..” she began, her voice like glass. “I need to tell you something. Something very important.”

The twins listened closely, too innocent to brace for what was coming.

“Grandpapa..” Inez’s voice cracked. She gripped her knees and tried again. “Grandpapa.. is not going to come home again.”

Orion tilted his head. “Did he go far away?”

Aurora’s hand squeezed her flower tighter. “Will he come back after he gets better?”

“No, baby,” Inez whispered. Her voice broke entirely now. “He won’t be coming back. He’s.. he’s gone to heaven.”

Silence.

The kind that seems to stretch forever.

Aurora blinked, her lashes already wet. “But.. but I wanted to show him my flower..”

Orion whispered, “He promised to see my dragon picture..”

Inez couldn’t hold it anymore. She broke, her face crumpling, her chest shuddering with sobs as she reached for her children. Zayne held her from behind, grounding her as her grief exploded through every vein.

The twins didn’t cry out loud at first. They simply stared at their mother, confused.. hurt.. and then..

It hit.

Aurora’s face broke into tears. Not loud, just sharp, trembling gasps as she curled into her mother’s arms. Orion, trying to be brave, clutched his shirt tight, but when he looked at Rafayel and saw the sadness in his uncle’s eyes, he broke too.

“I want him to come back,” Orion sobbed. “I didn’t say goodbye..”

“I don’t want Grandpapa to be gone..” Aurora choked. “I don’t want Mama to cry..”

And then they were crying. Truly crying. The kind of cries that only children can make, raw and pure, the sound of something breaking for the first time.

Inez cried with them, holding both close, her body shaking as though she could somehow absorb their pain. “I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry, babies..”

Zayne wrapped his arms around all three of them from behind, whispering, “He loved you more than the world. He was so proud of you. He’s watching you still. He’s with us, even now.”

But children don’t want poetry in their pain.

They want arms. They want warmth.

And that’s when Caleb moved, his tall frame kneeling next to his niece and nephew.

He pulled Orion into his arms and kissed the top of his head, whispering nothing, just humming the lullaby their father once used for him.

Rafayel reached for Aurora, brushing her hair back, tears in his own eyes now. “You can cry, little moon. You can cry all you want.”

They stayed like that for a long time. A heap of love and heartbreak on the floor of the Wolfgang living room.

The twins cried until their little bodies tired out.

And eventually they slept, curled up on the couch under blankets that once belonged to Arthur himself. Rafayel stayed close, sketching silently in a notebook with trembling hands. Caleb leaned back with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm learned from years of suppressing pain.

Inez looked up at Zayne.

“I didn’t expect it to hurt twice,” she whispered.

“I know,” he replied gently.

“It hurts seeing them hurt. Like I’m losing Papa all over again through their eyes.”

Zayne kissed her temple. “Then let it hurt. Let it shape them. That’s how they’ll remember how deep love goes.”

Inez closed her eyes, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

And in the quietness of the Wolfgang living room, surrounded by the very legacy Arthur left behind, his grandchildren, his sons, his daughter, his wife’s love still alive, something sacred happened.

Later at night.

Dinner had been eaten in hushed tones. The air held that weighty stillness again, the kind that follows after a day too heavy for normalcy.

Zayne had just stepped out of the nursery hallway when he found Inez waiting for him in the foyer. Her eyes were glassy but steady now, a soft ache behind their warmth. “We’re going out back,” she said.

“Do you want me to come?”

“Not yet,” she whispered, reaching for his hand. “Just us three.”

He understood. “I’ll be right here,” he promised, and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

Mama Elena, sitting silently in her chair by the front window, lifted her gaze when the door creaked open.

“Are you going to him?” she asked.

Inez nodded softly. “We need to remember him together. Just once. Just us.”

Her lips trembled. “Tell him I miss him.”

“We will, Mama.”

And with that, Inez stepped outside into the garden where stars had begun to pierce the velvet sky.

The garden had always been their father’s favorite part of the estate.

It wasn’t grand or overly tended. It was wild in parts, rosemary bushes tangling into rose vines, moonflowers blooming freely along the back stone wall, and the old wooden bench carved by Arthur himself decades ago. His initials were still there, along with his wife’s and the childish scrawls of ‘Caleb 9,’ ‘Inez 6,’ ‘Rafayel 3.’

Inez arrived first, barefoot in the dewy grass. Caleb followed quietly, hands in his pockets, his military posture softened for once. Rafayel came last, carrying a flask of warm tea and three enamel mugs.

No one spoke at first.

They just sat. Together. Like when they were kids.

The stars above were shining brightly, the sky cloudless.. as if the universe too, was holding still for them.

It was Rafayel who broke the silence.

“I forgot how quiet it gets here at night.”

Caleb leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Papa loved it best after sunset. Remember how he used to sneak out with a cigar, thinking Mama didn’t know?”

“She always knew,” Inez smiled faintly. “She just let him think he was slick.”

Rafayel chuckled, sipping his tea. “He’d sit here, not saying anything. Just watching the stars like they owed him something.”

“He never said much, did he?” Caleb said, eyes far away. “But when he did.. it always sticks.”

There was a pause.

And then Inez said, softly, “He used to call me his quiet lioness.”

“You?” Rafayel blinked. “You were never quiet.”

“He meant my heart,” she murmured. “Not my mouth.”

They laughed for the first time that day, and a thread of warmth tugged gently at the grief surrounding them.

“I remember,” Rafayel said slowly, “the time I failed my art exam. I was ten. I was so sure he’d be disappointed.”

Caleb nodded. “But he wasn’t, right?”

“No,” Rafayel said, voice cracking a little. “He sat me down in the garage. Didn’t even lecture me. Just handed me a brush and told me to paint the wall.”

Inez’s brows rose. “He made you repaint the garage?”

“No. He told me, ‘make it beautiful. You don’t need a grade to prove what’s already in your hands.’ like that.”

Caleb felt a twinge of pain inside his chest before he exhaled quietly. “Damn, bro.. that sounded exactly like him.”

They fell silent again, listening to the wind rustle through the tall trees lining the estate.

Then Caleb spoke.

“You know he never told me he was proud of me.”

Rafayel looked at him. “What?”

“Not with words,” Caleb clarified. “Not once. But every time I came home in uniform, he’d stand a little taller. He never asked about my medals, never bragged to his friends.. but one night, I walked past his office and saw a file. He’d printed every single article ever written about my squadron. Clipped them. Highlighted my name.”

Inez placed her hand over her chest. “He was proud of you. He was proud of all of us.”

“Yeah,” Caleb whispered. “I just wish he’d said it once. Aloud.”

“He showed it, Caleb,” Inez said. “He showed it in every early morning he drove you to the academy. In every seat he left empty for your return. He showed it in how he watched Mama with that look of quiet faith, like he believed in what they built.”

Rafayel suddenly wiped his face with his sleeve. “I’m scared I won’t remember his voice in a few years.”

“You will,” Caleb assured.

“But what if I don’t? What if the sound fades?”

“It’s okay,” Inez whispered. “We have each other. We’ll remind each other when it gets blurry.”

There was a stillness after that. Not silence.. just something deeper.

And then Rafayel, with a quiet sigh, looked up at the stars.

“Do you think he sees us?”

“I know he does,” Inez answered softly.

“Then..” Rafayel whispered, “Papa.. if you’re listening.. we miss you. But we’ll take care of everything now. Mama, the house, each other..”

Caleb raised his mug toward the stars. “To Arthur Wolfgang. Our father. The one who taught us how to walk through fire.”

Inez raised hers too. “To the man who never said much.. but loved louder than anyone I know.”

Rafayel smiled through the tears. “To Papa. You built a family strong enough to carry you.”

And they clinked their mugs together, softly, beneath the watching stars.

From the window inside, Zayne and Mama Elena watched them.

She didn’t speak, just simply placed her hand over her heart and closed her eyes.

Zayne gently rested his arm on her shoulder, silent, reverent.

That night, no one slept quickly.

But no one slept with regret.

Because in that garden, under the stars, the Wolfgang siblings had brought their father to life again, not in body, but in memory.

And through memory, Arthur Wolfgang would never truly leave.

The next morning.

The sun had barely begun to stretch over the Wolfgang estate, golden light threading through the old trees, casting soft glows upon the stone paths. Birds sang softly, as if they too knew that this morning needed to be quieter, more tender.

In the guest room of the east wing, Aurora and Orion sat cross legged on the bed, their hands tucked neatly in their laps. Neither of them said much as they finished breakfast. But their eyes kept drifting to the window, the garden beyond, where the oak tree stood near their Grandpapa’s grave.

Zayne was buttoning up Orion’s coat when his son finally spoke.

“Papa..” Orion’s voice was gentle. “Can we go see Grandpapa before we go home?”

Zayne paused, his hand hovering above the last button.

“We already said goodbye yesterday, love,” he replied softly.

“But we wanna say it again,” Aurora piped up from the bed, sliding off onto her feet. Her soft black shoes tapped against the rug. “Please, Papa. Just once more. We didn’t tell him about our school books.”

Zayne’s lips parted, but no words came right away. He looked toward Inez, who stood in the doorway.

She was already watching them with misty eyes, one hand clasped at her heart. Her expression answered for him.

‘Let them go. Let them try.’

So Zayne knelt and held both of their hands. “Alright,” he murmured. “But listen carefully. You won’t see Grandpapa standing there like you used to. He’s not.. he’s not here in the way you remember.”

Both twins nodded solemnly.

“But you can see his tombstone,” he continued, his voice steady and warm. “It has his name, and photo. And he can still hear you, in your hearts. If you talk to him kindly, he’ll know.”

Orion’s brow furrowed. “Even if we can’t see him?”

Zayne touched his son’s chest gently. “He’s right there. Always.”

With that, the family stepped into the morning light. Caleb and Rafayel were already in the front drive, preparing the cars for departure. When they spotted the twins walking toward the garden path instead, both uncles paused.

“They want to visit him again,” Inez explained softly as she passed by.

Caleb gave a quiet smile, nodding once. “Then let’s all go.”

The oak tree was bathed in morning warmth, its ancient trunk casting a wide shadow over the stone that marked Arthur Wolfgang’s resting place.

It was simple, dignified, and strong, just like the man himself.

The twins walked slowly ahead of the adults, their small feet crunched softly on the gravel path. When they reached the tombstone, they stopped and looked up at the engraved plaque.

There it was.

‘Arthur Gunther Wolfgang.’ Beloved husband, fearless father, eternal guide.

Beside the name, a bronze etched photo of Arthur in his uniform, eyes calm, mouth set in that familiar quiet smile.

Aurora tilted her head. “Grandpapa looks serious in this photo.”

“Like he’s watching us,” Orion whispered.

Inez stood behind them, her hand clutching Zayne’s, her other hand pressed to her lips. Her heart swelled with both pride and pain.

Then, in the gentle silence, the twins began to speak.

“Hi Grandpapa,” Aurora said, her voice small and brave. “We’re gonna go home now. But we wanted to tell you that I got a sticker in math class last week.”

“And I drew a picture of a spaceship,” Orion added. “It had a flag and everything.”

Caleb, standing just a step behind, let out a low chuckle. “He would’ve liked that,” he murmured.

“He loved space stuff,” Rafayel added, arms crossed, eyes soft. “Remember how he used to call Caleb ‘Rockethead’ when he was little?”

That made Aurora giggle. “Uncle Rockethead?”

Caleb shrugged with mock seriousness. “That was classified information.”

Inez smiled faintly, her eyes shining. “He’d be proud of both of you,” she whispered to her children. “So.. so.. proud.”

Aurora reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny folded paper, one of her school drawings. On it was a stick figure family standing in front of a big oak tree, with a tall man in the middle labeled as ‘Grandpapa.’

She gently placed it at the base of the tombstone.

“Here,” she whispered. “So you don’t forget us.”

Then Orion did something none of them expected.

He stepped forward, touched the cool stone with both hands, and pressed his forehead to it gently, like a hug he couldn’t give anymore.

That was when the tears came.

Quiet at first.. then a soft sniffle.. then louder.. and louder..

Aurora’s hand clutched her brother’s sleeve, and soon she was crying too, not just the confused sadness of a child, but the full ache of understanding.

That this was a goodbye. That they wouldn’t see him again.

Inez moved forward at once, wrapping both of them in her arms.

“It’s alright,” she whispered. “Cry, my darlings. Let it out.”

Zayne knelt beside them, his hands rubbing their backs in slow, soothing circles. His voice remained calm, even though his own heart felt cracked open watching them grieve so purely.

“I know it hurts,” he whispered. “But he’s listening. He hears you. And he loves you always.”

Caleb crouched nearby, pulling Aurora into his own arms when she buried her face into her mother’s coat. Rafayel lifted Orion gently, resting the boy against his shoulder, cradling him like his Papa did when he was a baby.

It was a scene painted in tears, in love, in the purest form of family.

And through it all, the wind moved softly through the leaves of the oak, brushing cheeks, lifting hair, circling around them as if Arthur himself had passed by once more, just to hear his grandchildren say goodbye.

They stayed a while longer.

Long enough for the tears to settle, for little hands to be wiped, for small smiles to return.

Before they left, she stepped forward alone.

She knelt carefully, fingers brushing the stone as though she were touching his hand one last time. Then, she placed a single white lily against the fresh earth, the petals trembling lightly in the wind.

“For everything you taught us,” she whispered, her voice breaking at the edges ,“and for the legacy you left behind.”

There was so much more she wanted to say. About the way his laughter had shaped her childhood. About how she still remembered the sound of his footsteps in the hallway at night. About how she still felt like his little girl, even now, standing there as a grown woman, a mother herself. But the words caught in her throat, so she let the silence carry them instead.

Zayne came to her side and slipped his arm around her shoulders, holding her without needing to speak. Caleb and Rafayel stood nearby, each holding one of the twins’ small hands. Orion squeezed Caleb’s fingers and whispered, “Bye bye, Grandpapa,” and Caleb’s jaw tightened as he blinked back his own tears.

Elena waited at the edge of the garden, her figure framed by the sway of the old oak tree, the same one that had shaded so many family picnics, so many afternoons of laughter. Her eyes were red but her back was straight, dignity wrapped around her grief like a shawl.

As they began to leave, the siblings turned one last time. Together, their gazes rested on the stone, on the oak, on the stillness that now held a thousand memories.

“Goodbye, Papa,” they whispered in unison, voices soft, almost carried away by the wind.

And then.. together, they walked forward into the rhythm of a life forever changed but still moving.

There was no forgetting, no replacing, no erasing. Grief would come in waves, sometimes quiet, sometimes sharp. But so would love, and so would laughter.

Because that was what he’d taught them.

-FIN-

Geneva, May 29th.

The heavy doors of the Palais des Nations in Geneva groaned closed behind Inez Wolfgang, the sound echoing like a final gavel stroke through her chest. Outside, the air was damp with spring rain, the pavement glistening under slate gray skies. The city moved around her.. quiet, formal, oblivious.

Inside, her heels had worn tracks across polished marble. She had spoken for hours. Her voice steady, commanding, elegant. But inside, she was unraveling.

She had stood in the podium, her voice clear and polished, the way she’d been trained. The agenda had been the escalating humanitarian crisis in Gaza. Diplomatic jargon filled the air like smog.. ceasefire, resolution, negotiation, compromise, but none of it soothed her.

It had been a closed door emergency session. An unprecedented gathering of foreign ministers and humanitarian council members from several nations.

What Inez had seen in that conference room had shaken even the most seasoned diplomats. But she couldn’t look away. She’d taken in every pixel, every cry, letting it burn into her memory, because to look away would be a betrayal. But it had cracked something inside her.

A girl, no older than her own Aurora, shrieking in a language the microphones couldn’t catch, clutching her dead mother’s hand like a lifeline. A little boy around Orion’s age, holding the limp hand of his baby brother, trying to shake him awake. Their face powdered with ash, eyes empty, rocking beside a bomb crater. And then there’s a doctor as tall as Zayne, who got bombed when he was in the middle of helping the genocide's victims.

Video after video. Testimony after testimony. A wall of pain, leveled like artillery fire straight to the heart.

And yet, some spoke of politics before people.

Of jurisdiction.
Of sovereignty.
Of not wanting to ‘stir tensions.’
Of ‘protecting national interests.’

Her fists trembling, “what about their interest in staying alive?” she demanded. “What about a child’s right to sleep without knowing what shrapnel tastes like?”

A minister from a prominent allied nation leaned back in his chair. “The conflict is complex, Mrs. Wolfgang. You speak with passion, but this isn’t a fairy tale.”

“It’s not a fairy tale, yes.” She cut him off, cold and sharp as winter steel. “It’s a graveyard! And you’re burying your conscience beside the bodies!”

She continued.

“You ask for reports? I brought names..”

“You ask for evidence? I brought videos, photos, death certificates..”

“You say the situation is complex? I say a child bleeding in the rubble isn’t complex.”

“It’s criminal!”

She paused.

“History will not remember your neutrality. But it will remember your silence!”

Another ambassador shifted, attempting diplomacy. “We understand your concern, Mrs. Wolfgang. But establishing a formal ceasefire requires bilateral agreements.”

“Then be brave enough to demand one!” she snapped. “Use your influence! You send weapons into these regions like care packages and then wash your hands when the fires rise!”

There had been gasps. A choked silence.

“The people of Palestine don’t need pity. They need protection!” Her voice cracked slightly.

“They need more than your tweets and hashtags. They need action! From you! From me! From us! ALL OF US!”

And then, a ripple of applause from smaller nations, quieter voices finally given courage by hers.

But the larger powers remained unmoved.

Resolutions were tabled. Debates prolonged.

The bell rang. Recess.

She walked out into the marble hall like someone stumbling out of a dream that turned into a nightmare halfway through. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor, echoing louder than applause ever had.

Inez leaned against the cold frame of a vending machine, swallowing her disappointment with the taste of a thick coffee.

She thought of her family..

Orion’s shy goodbyes at the train station, Aurora’s last drawing tucked in her suitcase, Zayne’s lips pressed to her forehead the night before she left, whispering “speak for those who can’t..”

But here she was, having spoken.

And no one listened.

At least..

Not enough.

She was about to return to her suite, to scream into a pillow or cry into a glass of red wine, when she caught sight of something..

Something painfully simple.

One of her diplomat colleague stood in the corner, sipping tea, her phone resting face up on the table. A photo of her husband and three boys smiled from the lock screen.

Nearby, a young diplomat scrolled through pictures of his around three years old daughter’s ballet recital. Beside him, another colleague was video calling her mother, adjusting the camera so the view showed the Swiss Alps in the background.

She paused, and..

Noticing.

One by one, faces she had just seen ignoring her speech were now illuminated by love.. by their family.. by someone waiting for them at home.

And something in her snapped. Not in anger, but in clarity.

She approached the small table. There were three diplomats gathered, two she’d met before, one she hadn’t. All looked up, surprised but welcoming.

“May I sit?” she asked gently.

They made space. She folded her hands, composed and fragile all at once.

“I know I’m not supposed to argue outside session,” she began softly. “But may I speak.. not as a delegate. Just.. as a human being?”

They blinked. Nodded.

“I saw your phone wallpapers,” she said. “Your children, your parents, your spouses.”

They smiled awkwardly, guarding their devices like it was a secret she’d caught.

“That’s why I need to ask,” she continued. “What would you want someone like us to do if those people on your screens were the ones in shelters being bombed?”

Silence.

“I’m not speaking from podiums now. I’m just Inez. My twin children are now five. They wrote me peace poems. They think I can save the world. But today.. I couldn’t even stir a room of people with power.”

Her voice cracked, and for once, no one told her to control it.

“I’m not asking for politics. I’m asking for your humanity. Because if it was your own people.. you’d want the world to move mountains.”

One of them looked away, jaw trembling.

Her colleague shifted uncomfortably, then muttered, “My daughter cried when she saw footage last week. Asked me why no one was helping.”

“And what did you say to her?” Inez asked.

She swallowed, “I didn’t know what to say.”

Inez reached out, her fingers trembling. “Then let’s figure it out together. Not as governments, but as human, as parents. Let’s not go back in that hall pretending we’re neutral when our hearts aren’t.”

Later That Evening.

The transcript of the session would never reflect the conversation that followed.

But one by one, they stayed. More joined off record, off protocol. And for the first time that day, people cried. One spoke of her brother still missing in the West Bank. Another shared how his cousin was shot last year while volunteering in Rafah. They weren’t titles anymore. They were people.. wounded, scared, yearning for goodness.

One document passed.. a watered down call for ‘increased humanitarian aids.’

Too late for the families already gone. Too little for those still trapped.

Inez remained until the last vote was casted. Her name signed on every demand for ceasefire, aid, and international witness presence. Her voice never faltered, but her hands were as cold as ice.

She declined dinner. Declined one of the ambassador’s invitation for scotch and silence.

Her only words were “I have a train to catch. I need to go home.”

The train rolled steadily through the Swiss countryside, the alpine peaks dipping behind the trees as dusk crept gently across the horizon. Inside the quiet cabin, Inez sat alone, her diplomatic folder unopened on her lap. Her amethyst eyes stared at the screen of her tablet, though her thoughts were somewhere far deeper than what it showed.

She had spent the days in Geneva, standing inside cold conference rooms filled with world leaders, each tossing words like currency over the escalating conflict in Palestine. Videos had been presented unfiltered, gut wrenching footage of children no older than her own, were clutching onto each other in bomb shelters, weeping over shattered homes.

Her vision blurred. Her fingers shook. She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t spoken to anyone. She hadn’t even remembered..

Today was May 29th. Her birthday.

It hadn’t even occurred to her until she opened her phone and saw the date under the train’s schedule notification. She blinked at it, empty.

She received no calls from Zayne today, though the twins had sent her a choppy little video, half giggles, half mumbled song.

But it was enough.

She didn’t need candles or cake.
She needed sleep.
She needed to stop seeing children in pieces.

Back in Linkon, the sky was already dimming into that gentle violet hour when her train pulled into the station. She stepped off with nothing but her suitcase, dressed still in her crisp diplomatic suit, heels clicking against the pavement, her heart heavier than the luggage she pulled.

Zayne hadn’t texted her since morning, she assumed he was working overtime at the hospital. It was fine, she told herself. She didn’t need a celebration. Not today. Not after what she saw.

By the time she arrived, their family home which nestled on a quiet street in the city’s northern quarter, stood cloaked in darkness.

Odd. There’s no porch lights, not even garden lamps, which Zayne always set them every single day.

She approached with hesitant steps, dragging her suitcase behind. Her heart, already worn and tender, skipped uneasily.

“Zayne..” she called out gently as she entered the front door. Her heels echoed softly on the wooden floors. “Kids? Mama’s home.”

Silence.

Her chest tightened. The house felt empty. Had something happened? Were they at the hospital? An emergency happened?

“Zayne?” she called out again as she stepped into the hallway, setting down her bag. “Orion? Aurora?”

She took off her shoes and walked barefoot against the wood floors. Passed the hallway, then turned on the lamp. Her breath is shortened now.

“Zayne?!” she called out for the third time, voice rising this time, “Where are you? Kids?”

She stepped further inside, flicking on a living room lamp. The light flickered, and then.. with a soft mechanical hum, every light in the house burst on at once.

A wave of warm golden light bathed the living room.

“SURPRIIIIISEEEE!!!!”

Inez stumbled back in shock.

Aurora and Orion leapt out from behind the couch, faces glowing with mischief and pride, while shouting in unison, “happy birthday, Mama!”

Zayne emerged from the kitchen, his black shirt sleeves rolled up and holding a cake with sakura formed macaroons above it, “happy birthday, my love.”

The living room was covered in shimmering fairy lights like fireflies. Confetti rained gently from the ceiling, clearly a project from the twins. A big painted banner read, in three different handwriting styles.. neat cursive, scratchy letters, and block capitals.

“Happy Birthday, MAMA!” definitely written by three different people.

Zayne stepped forward, his voice softer now. “We wanted to wait until you got home,” he said softly, his emerald eyes shimmering as he stepped toward her. “We missed you.”

Inez stood frozen, overwhelmed by the sudden shift in her emotional landscape.

Aurora ran first, hugging her waist tightly. “We didn’t forget, Mama! We surprised you!”

Orion followed with shy determination, placing a delicate sakura crown, made of pressed pink petals and wire on her head. “I made it in the garden. So you will always have spring, Mama.”

She hugged them. Squeezed them like they’d slip away. The tears came fast.. deep, shuddering sobs that shook her from the inside out.

Aurora handed her a small red box wrapped in paper full of doodles. “Open it!” she giggled. “Papa and us picked it together!”

Her hands trembled as she opened the gift box. Inside, nestled carefully, was a sleek smartwatch in rose gold colored, delicate, and clearly picked with care.

“It’s connected to all of us,” Zayne said quietly, now sitting beside her. “One tap, and we’re there.”

“It has video calls,” Zayne added, “so wherever you are.. Geneva, Helsinki, Berlin, anywhere, you’ll never miss our faces again.”

He then whispered to his wife playfully, “we saved up for it. Well.. the twins gave up their two weeks of snack money.”

Aurora beamed, “I didn’t even buy gummies!”

Orion nodded solemnly, “and I gave up juices.”

Inez chuckled.. and then cried harder. The tears came without warning, rushing like a river over the edges of a dam that had been cracking all day.

She clutched the watch to her chest, “you have no idea.. no idea what this means to me.” Then she pulled all three of them into an embrace.

“I watched children today,” she choked, “who looked just like both of you. But.. I couldn’t protect them. I couldn’t do anything except scream across tables while people in suits counted political matters.” Her voice trembling.

“They don’t have homes anymore. They don’t even have their parents, or not even a single cake or a hug or a warm bed, and I..” She’s still sobbing. “I was so scared.. I thought of you.. of what I would do if you were taken from me. I don’t.. I don’t deserve this joy when they have nothing.”

Zayne cupped her face, brushing her tears with his thumbs. “But you do, my love. You deserve to come home. You deserve to feel safe too. You fight for them.. every day. Let us fight for you.”

He gently kissed her cheek, “don’t let guilt steal your right to joy.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes. You do.”

The twins went quiet, clinging to her.

They are now sat down around the coffee table, the macaroons glowing with a candle in the middle. The twins clapped as Inez blew them out, her wishes silent, sacred, and held in her heart.

Later that night, they sat together on the floor, surrounded by the twin’s plushies and soft laughter, eating uneven slices of Zayne’s homemade macaroons.. dense, sweet, with too much sugar as expected from the sweet tooth guy in the house. The twins licked frosting off their fingers as they sang ‘Happy Birthday’ again and again until they dissolved into giggles.

Under the fairy lights, as the fire crackled gently nearby, Aurora whispered, “Mama.. why do people hurt kids?”

Inez felt the question like a blade.

She then brushed a hand through her daughter’s curls. “Because some people forget that they were once kids. They fight for power and forget the value of childhood, of dreams, of families, of hopes, of futures..”

“But we remember,” Orion said firmly, frowning slightly. “Right, Papa?”

Zayne nodded. “We do, buddy. And it’s our job to protect people. As a doctor or a diplomat, or even just as human beings.”

The night is getting deeper, on the living room floor the family made a fort of pillows shaped like clouds, blankets everywhere and lanterns flickering, as the twins insisted they have a ‘birthday sleepover.’ Zayne held Inez’s hand as Orion and Aurora nestled between them.

Orion looked up. “Can I protect people too, Mama?”

“You already do, sweet munchkin..” Inez whispered, eyes full of love. “You protect us with your kindness, your love, your heart.”

Aurora rested her head on her mama’s chest. “I’ll protect you forever, Mama.”

As the twins’ eyes grew heavier and their breathing calmer, Zayne grabbed his wife’s hand tenderly and kissed her knuckles, his voice low and certain. “We’ll raise them to be warriors of peace and empathy. No matter how loud the world screams for blood, they’ll whisper for love.. for understanding.. and to never turn away from someone who needs help.”

Inez wrapped her arms around them both, her eyes meeting Zayne’s over their heads. “Then we’re doing something right.”

And that night, in a fortress of blankets, surrounded by crumbs and dim light, Inez Wolfgang for the first time in days, finally slept deeply.

Because she believed that..

For every children deserves hopes.
For every father deserves chances.
For every mother deserves happiness.

And for every family deserves a brighter future together.

Akso Hospital, June 15th.

The operating room was quiet now.

Too quiet.

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor had long since stopped. The body had been wheeled away with reverent silence. The staff had cleaned the room like they always did. They left because they knew.. when Chief Surgeon Zayne Li stayed back after a failed surgery, it meant he was no longer Dr. Li.

He was simply.. Zayne.

He sat alone in his office. His scrub top clung to his skin, soaked from the effort, from hours of surgery, from the weight of a fight he didn’t win. The cool air of the room licked at his damp collarbone. The mask hung loosely from one ear, forgotten and frayed at the edge though leaving marks on his skin, a sign that he had fought his best for this battle.

He didn’t move. Not even as the sweat cooled into shivers. Not even when his chest tightened for the third time in an hour. His fingers were curled slightly, not trembling, just tense, like a piano player caught mid note.

Zayne stared into the blueish light cast by the screen above the surgical records board. His mind saw none of it.

Instead he saw his patient, 58 years old man with the deteriorating myocardium and soft spoken jokes. The one who refused to give up because Zayne hadn’t.

He had been his doctor for four years. He knew his daughter’s name. He knew the way he gripped his hand just before anesthesia, like a silent thank you, like a father grateful for one more breath with his child.

And now he was gone.

Because despite the latest VAD support, despite emergency cardiac bypass. His heart had simply given out mid operation.

No error, no misstep, just.. nature’s final say.

But Zayne, the man who had revived hearts others gave up on, couldn’t accept that. Not today.

Though still.. he’s not a God.

The door opened.

He didn’t look up.

He didn’t need to.

As he knows well the soft heels sound, the subtle click of a magnetic ID, a familiar rustle of tailored wool over her arm. It’s his wife, stepped into the office, quiet as the evening sky. Her hair still smelled faintly of wind and cherry blossoms. Her diplomatic badge perched on her collar.

She closed the door behind her but said nothing.

No questions.

No ‘What happened?’
No ‘Are you okay?’
No need.

She walked towards him, slow and sure, placing her handbag on the couch before coming to stand beside him. His head remained bowed, shoulders set like iron, hands limp.

But as soon as she arrived.

Something in him.. shifted.

Zayne leaned forward, as if gravity itself commanded it, and pressed his face gently into her abdomen. Not with desperation. With surrender.

Inez didn’t flinch.

She only raised her hand, placed it on his shoulder, and softly began stroking along the curve of his back. Not to urge him on, but to say ‘I’m here. I know. You don’t have to speak.’

Her fingers found his hair, damp and tousled from the hours inside the OR. She threaded through it gently, rubbing slow circles into his scalp.

“You did your best,” she whispered, voice more breath than sound. “You always do.”

He didn’t answer.

But slowly.. the rigid posture of grief softened. The lines around his eyes eased. The breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding escaped in a quiet exhale against her blouse. It warmed her belly, where their children had once grown.. and where now, his broken spirit rested.

He didn’t need to be strong here.
Didn’t need to be brilliant.
Didn’t need to be Dr. Zayne Li.

He just needed to be held.

Minutes passed in that silence. The kind that only soulmates understood.

Finally, his voice came, cracked but sure. “Inez.”

She hummed, her hand still stroking the back of his head.

“Let’s go home.”

She smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Okay.”

Zayne rose, slow and heavy limbed. His fingers brushed hers as she helped him out of the chair. His mask fell to the floor, unnoticed. He didn’t look back.

They walked side by side through the empty corridor of Akso Hospital, bathed in the last blue lights of evening.

Later when both of them arrived at their own home.. their own sanctuary, Zayne stepped in first, his hand gently squeezing Inez’s behind him.

The scent of home greeted him, a faint jasmine candle lit in the hallway, and the giggles of two little beings who could only ever belong to him.

They were waiting by the entry to the living room, as if stationed on some sacred mission, ‘Operation Welcome Papa.’ Dressed in cozy animal onesies, Aurora in her soft pink bunny and Orion in a faded grey wolf, the twins lit up the moment they saw him.

“PAPA!!!” they cried in perfect stereo, their feet already padding across the floor.

Zayne instinctively crouched, opening his arms.

But the moment they reached him, right before their bodies crashed into his chest.. something in them paused.

Orion, always the first to sense emotion, tilted his head. Aurora, clutching a crumpled drawing in her hand, slowed to a gentle halt.

They saw his eyes.

Zayne was smiling faintly, but it wasn’t his usual warm welcome. His gaze looked.. tired. Not sleepy kind of tired, but that kind of tired that made the air feel heavier.

The twins blinked.

And just like that, with the unspoken wisdom only children possess, they both stepped back. Just two small paces. As if to say, ‘We’re here. But only if you want us to be.’

Aurora turned toward Inez and leaned into her side, curling her fingers gently into her mother’s sleeve. Orion looked down at the math paper in his hand, unsure now if it was the right time to show it to his father.

But Zayne.. witnessing their pause, their restraint, their gentle hearts couldn’t let the space remain between them.

He stood, knelt again slowly in front of them, and opened his arms wide.

“I always want to see my bunnies,” he said softly.

Aurora blinked, surprised.

Orion gasped. “I’m not a bunny.. she is!”

“Then I always want to see my bunny and my wolf,” Zayne corrected himself with a smile that finally reached his eyes.

The twins surged forward this time, wrapping their small limbs around him in a tangled hug. He could feel their warmth, their trust, their love like a balm against the ache in his chest.

Zayne closed his eyes briefly, resting his chin atop Aurora’s head, letting their giggles rumble against his ribs.

“We were waiting, Papa,” Aurora whispered. “We made something!”

“Wanna see my math?” Orion grinned, already holding up a wrinkled sheet of paper with numbers and proud circles drawn all around it. “I counted to a hundred and twenty two without looking!”

Zayne pulled back just enough to take the paper, examining it with a performative squint.

“Did you really?” he said, voice laced with a spark of humor. “That’s one hundred and twenty two more than I could’ve done today.”

Orion laughed out loud. “Papa, you’re way smarter than me!”

Zayne smiled. “Not when I’m sad, buddy. That’s why I need your genius.”

Aurora slipped a pastel drawing into his hand next. “And this is me and you and Mama and Rion at the beach. You look tired here too, but we’re giving you coconut juice. That fixes everything.”

Zayne chuckled, a real chuckle, low, warm, and broken free from some invisible chain.

The twins gasped delightedly.

“He laughed!” Aurora squealed. “Papa laughed!”

Zayne looked up at Inez, who had remained a respectful few steps back.. her eyes glistening with quiet pride. She didn’t say a word, only smiled as he mouthed a ‘thank you.’

Because she knew.

It wasn’t the textbooks or the scalpel that brought him back to life today.

It was this two small hearts beating steady beside his own. A home where grief didn’t make him less. A family who knew that silence, math sheets, and messy crayon coconuts could stitch together the things even a surgeon couldn’t.

Later that night.

Aurora had curled into her blankets after placing her drawing next to Zayne’s pillow. Orion had insisted on counting again as he dozed, drifting off somewhere after “fifty nine,” his fingers still curled around the corner of Zayne’s shirt.

Inez had tucked them into their nursery room, while Zayne quietly brushing through each of their child’s hair.. a slow, silent ritual that grounded him more than words ever could.

Now the hallway was dark, save for a single lamp glowing in the bedroom.

He was already lying there when she stepped in, not asleep, just staring at the ceiling. His shirt had been exchanged for one of his soft cotton tees, and his damp hair was pushed back with lazy fingers.

Inez approached wordlessly, slipping under the sheets beside him, one hand resting gently on his chest, just above his heart.

And for a moment, she didn’t ask.

She never asked, not until he was ready.

But tonight, after a slow breath, Zayne turned toward her, and whispered..

“It was, Elias.”

Her gaze softened, her fingers moving in small, slow circles where they rested against his heart. “The patient from Room 4B?”

He nodded. “You remember him.”

“I do. He gave Aurora that origami swan.”

Zayne’s throat tightened.

“He was.. doing well for a while. I really thought..” He paused, forcing the words past a growing burn in his eyes. “We were trying for a long term bridge transplant. He kept fighting. He wanted to see his daughter graduate next year. I told him he would.”

“You believed it,” she said, softly.

“I wanted to. God, Inez..” he breathed out, a fragile crack breaking through his usual composed voice. “I held his heart in my hands. Literally. I tried to revive him three times. I tried everything. His rhythm was gone. His chest was open, and I.. I couldn’t restart the engine.”

He was staring at the ceiling again, but this time, he wasn’t seeing it.

“I looked at the clock when I called time of death. 16:47. And I swear, Inez.. I just stood there. For few minutes. Just.. looking at him. At the body. Trying to see the man who used to laugh. The man who told me stupid soccer jokes during checkups. He looked so.. empty.”

His voice cracked.

“I failed him.”

“No,” Inez said, firmly but gently. “You didn’t.”

“I was the one who promised he’d make it,” Zayne whispered.

“You were the one who gave him hope. And you gave him time.. more than anyone else could. You didn’t lose him, Zayne. His heart did. And even then, you were the last one to let go.”

He turned to her finally, eyes glassy with unshed grief, voice hoarse.

“Why does it still feel like I wasn’t enough?”

Her arms slid around him.

“You’re not a God, Zayne. You’re human. But the kind that pushes himself beyond the human limits, every single day.” She pressed a kiss against his temple. “He knew how hard you fought. And he died with someone who cared enough to mourn him. That means something.”

Zayne buried his face into the crook of her neck.

There, in the quiet dark, he let the tears fall. Not loud. Not broken. Just steady.. like a surgeon bleeding in silence, finally letting the incision show.

Inez held him.

She didn’t hush him. Didn’t rush him. Her fingers threaded through his hair, her heartbeat steady beneath his cheek.

He clung to her like a man coming up for air, and she let him breathe.

Minutes passed.

Eventually, the tears stopped. His arms around her loosened just slightly. His breaths slowed.

“Inez?” he whispered.

“Yes, Zayne?”

He swallowed. “Thank you. For being my safe place.”

She kissed his forehead.

“Always.”

Zayne fell asleep not long after that. The kind of sleep only possible when the storm has passed, and the one you love is still there, still holding you, still saying without words, ‘You are enough. Just as you are.’

In the quietest hour before dawn, Inez tends to the man who tends to everyone else.

The room had gone still.

Zayne lay beside her in deep sleep, his chest rising and falling with the kind of calm that didn’t come easily to him. One arm was draped loosely across her waist, his brow finally unknit, his jaw no longer set with that invisible pressure he always carried. In the shadows, he didn’t look like a surgeon, or a man who carried lives on his back. He just looked like Zayne.

Her Zayne.

Inez couldn’t sleep, not yet. She stayed curled beside him, her fingers tracing the strong lines of his arm, the curve of his shoulder, the dip where his neck met his collarbone.

Her thoughts swam slowly in the dark.

This man.. this brilliant, relentless, beautiful man, had carried so much today. And still, when he came home broken, he made room for the twins. He held them even while grief sat heavy on his chest. He kissed her cheek at dinner, even if he couldn’t eat. He never said no to love, even when he didn’t have strength left for anything else.

And now, resting here beside her, he looked so vulnerable. So open. As if sleeping next to her had peeled away every layer of armor until all that remained was the boy he used to be. The man she is married to. The father of her children.

The love in her chest grew so full it almost ached.

Inez leaned in, brushing a lock of dark hair away from his forehead. Her fingers slid tenderly through his soft, sleep tousled strands. Again.. and again.. in a quiet rhythm, slower than breath, more certain than words.

She kissed his temple once.

Then lower to his cheek, the edge of his jaw, the hollow of his throat. She kissed him with reverence, with devotion, with gratitude. As if every press of her lips whispered..

‘You’re safe now.’
‘You’re not alone.’
‘You can fall apart here, and I will love you still.’

Zayne stirred gently, eyelashes fluttering. His brow twitched just slightly as her fingers stroked through his hair again, and when her lips found his shoulder, his breath hitched faintly.

“Love..” he murmured, half asleep.

“I’m here,” she whispered.

He blinked slowly, eyes finding her face in the soft shadows. There was no confusion in his gaze, just awe. Quiet and raw, like he didn’t know how to deserve this kind of love and yet couldn’t stop receiving it.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” he said, voice raspy.

“You needed it,” she said, placing another kiss against his cheek.

He swallowed. “You’re always so.. gentle. Even when I feel like a ghost.”

She shook her head softly. “You’re not a ghost. You’re mine. And I see you, Zayne. Even when you disappear into grief, I see you.”

He stared at her.

Then, slowly, something broke loose in him again. Not tears this time, but surrender.

His hand moved to cradle her jaw, fingers trembling slightly.

And when he kissed her.. it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was deep, tender, wordless. A silent confession of, ‘Let me rest in you tonight.’

Their lips moved in slow rhythm. Hands rediscovered familiar terrain, his palm against her waist, her fingers curled behind his neck, their bodies pressing closer beneath the blankets like the tide pulling them into a single current.

Clothes slid away without urgency. They didn’t need friction. They needed warmth. Skin against skin, soul to soul. They held each other like the world had stopped spinning outside their walls.

With a soft exhale against her lips and his forehead resting gently against hers, they shared a single breath, their hearts beating in a tender harmony as they became one.

They moved together, not out of passion alone, but of healing. A dance not to escape, but to feel each thrust, each caress, each trembling gasp. A reminder that they were alive, that they belonged to one another, that even in exhaustion, they could find strength through touch.

Zayne cupped her cheek as their pace softened to a sway, their hands entwined beside her pillow. He kissed her knuckles between each breath.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “More than anything that breaks me.”

And Inez with her glassy eyes replied without hesitation, “I love every broken piece of you.”

Their final wasn’t explosive, it was deep. A quiet wave that overtook them together, trembling in each other’s arms. They held on as it crested, then fell, and still, neither let go.

They remained like that long after, tangled in warmth and love, with Zayne’s face buried into her neck again, this time not out of grief, but peace.

As dawn painted the sky with gold, he whispered one last thing before sleep reclaimed him, “You saved me, tonight.”

And Inez, stroking his hair, whispered, “You save others. I’m just returning the favor.”

“I truly am so lucky to have you and the twins. Now I understand how their presence eased your worries the other day, because I felt it too. They are such a blessing from God, a light that gently lifts the weight we carry. Thank you, my love.. for giving me this warmth, this family, and the space to begin healing within it.” He kissed her tenderly.

She kissed him back in a gentle motion, “the scar may remain for a while, Zayne. But you.. you’ll never have to face it alone. We’ll always be here with you.”

In the quiet after love, as their hearts slowed in each other’s arms, they knew.. no matter how heavy the world became, home would always be the place where healing began. Not only for him, but for everyone in this safest sanctuary of them.

-FIN-

One evening in Finland.

Helsinki in midwinter was like a majestic place often written in the fairy tales. And so with the night of the Medical Charity Gala in there. Soft white snow dusted the asphalt streets while the grand ballroom flickered with candlelight and the delicate clinking of crystal.

Zayne Li, a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at Akso Hospital from Linkon City, stood at the edge of the room like a statue carved out of discipline. He was stiff in his custom tailored black suit, the starched collar immaculate, every inch of him sharp and composed. A man whose world ran on logic, purpose, and precision.

Across the room, Inez Wolfgang, a young diplomat on duty, radiated a different kind of energy entirely. Laughter followed her like a trailing scarf. She held her champagne glass up to the light, watching frost dance along its rim with an almost childlike delight, her eyes alive with curiosity. Her white dress shimmered like snowfall on midnight, and the contrast between her unguarded warmth and the room’s calculated elegance made her seem untouchable.

They were, in every sense, the opposite poles.

It was inevitable that they’d cross paths or rather.. clash.

At the buffet table, over tiny hors d’oeuvres and imported wine, they stumbled into a conversation about medical aid policy. It escalated quickly.

“It’s not enough to only treat a wound and walk away,” Inez argued, her voice light but fierce. “Humanitarian work has to heal whole communities. It’s not just surgeries and statistics.”

Zayne, with that cool, precise tone of his, countered. “Idealism doesn’t stop people from dying on the table. I’ve spent so many nights stitching up wounds. What matters first is survival. Idealism can come later.”

Their words sparred, sharp but reasonable, drawing curious glances from passing guests. Neither would concede.

And yet.. something shifted.

Beneath the argument, there was fascination. Respect. The undeniable awareness of another mind as sharp, as unyielding, as their own.

By the end of it, Inez was laughing softly. “You’re infuriating,” she declared.

Zayne, surprising himself, smiled a small, genuine thing that creased the edge of his solemn features. “So are you.”

And that how it was all began.

The days that followed blurred in a quiet, unspoken closeness. They wandered through Helsinki’s quiet streets under the pale arctic lights. Shared stories over coffee. Argued, teased, but always came back to one another.

Zayne was a man of purpose, his life charted with clinical precision. While Inez hated wasting time, living in moments, chasing colors, songs and memories that could slip away without warning. And yet, they found a strange, perfect balance in the spaces between.

By the time the final evening came, and their separate lives threatened to pull them away, something impossible had taken root.

On the last night before they were meant to part, Zayne asked her for one final walk.

He led her away from the city, down in a secluded winter trail deep in the Lapland forest, where snow blanketed the earth in thick, unbroken layers. The path, barely visible beneath the white, wound through ancient pines until it reached a cabin hidden in the trees. His sanctuary. His secret place.

Inez’s breath caught. The terrace glowed, lit by a ring of softly burning lanterns. Snow fell silently around them. And above.. the sky came alive. Waves of green and violet light shimmered and danced overhead, painting the night with something unearthly, divine.

Zayne turned to her, his face vulnerable in a way she had never seen before.

His hand trembled as he knelt, the snow crunching beneath him. In his palm lay a ring, with a deep blue stone, the color of the night sky they stood beneath, set in a simple band.

His voice, so often composed, now cracked softly.

“I’ve spent my life saving lives,” he began.

“But finding you.. it’s the first time I’ve ever felt like someone saved mine.” His eyes teary.

“I love you, Inez. Will you marry..”

Inez didn’t wait. Her eyes glistened, and she dropped to her knees in the snow, cupping his face in her cold fingers.

“Yes,” she whispered before he could finish his sentences.

“Yes! you fool..”

Under the bright northern light, they shared their first ever kiss together.

Later, Zayne put the ring on her finger, and it was surprisingly fit. “How come?” she asked.

“I have a sharp instinct.” He chuckled.

“But it’s not something you can measured with instinct, Zayne..”

“It can.. I can..” he smirked proudly, then chuckled again while ruffling her almost freezing hair.

“Wow.”

Months later, they are married under the gentle blush of spring.

Roihuvuori Cherry Tree Park, a sea of soft pink sakura petals, just as Inez had dreamed. A small, intimate ceremony. No grand spectacle, just the people who mattered.

Inez wore a flowing ivory colored gown, with hooded lace cloak covering her hair, falling around her like mist. Zayne, in a simple ebony colored suit, couldn’t stop staring, his usual stoic expression softened by an unguarded awe.

As they exchanged vows, the wind stirred the branches, sending a rain of pale pink flakes around them.

“You are my calm,” she said, voice shaking, eyes brimming.

“You are my fire,” he answered, steady and sure.

They kissed beneath the falling sakura petals.

The world holding its breath, wrapped in the sacred quiet of love declared.

And so it was.

The two opposite poles.

Anchoring one another.

They could have gone anywhere.

Maldives, Greece, Egypt, and many other countries..

Everyone expected a grand, glamorous honeymoon for the newly married diplomat and the chief surgeon. But neither Zayne nor Inez cared for it. Not when they had a place that felt entirely their own.

So, with no flights booked and no itineraries planned, they packed a single suitcase each and returned to the cabin.

The same one hidden deep within the Lapland pines, where months earlier Zayne had knelt in the snow and asked her to stay by his side for a lifetime.

The cabin was simple, but beautiful in its solitude. Hand built by Zayne’s great grandfather, it was a home without clocks or expectations. Pine walls smelled of earth and old stories. A small stone fireplace, shelves of faded books, and a terrace that opened to endless white.

Here, the time is running slower.

They woke up to the pale winter light creeping between the curtains, their breaths mingling in the cool morning air. Zayne would rise first, leaving a kiss on his wife’s hair before slipping into the kitchen.

She’d find him later, sleeves rolled up, quietly cooking breakfast. Fresh eggs, fried sausages, bread warmed in the oven, cups of jasmine milk tea that was his favorite flavor, and some sweet snacks.

Little did Inez know that Zayne is into sweets, like a lot.. he’s a sweet tooth, and it’s surprised her. “I thought you’re more like a double shot espresso kind of person.. but who knows! Jasmine milk tea? And these sweet snacks?” she chuckled, while shaking her had a little.

“Now you know your husband better,” Zayne chuckled along with her.

Later, Inez tidied up the cabin, humming softly as she folded blankets, brushed snow off the terrace, and stacked firewood by the hearth. It was a quiet, content rhythm. Neither of them needed grand adventures, because the world outside felt vast and untouched, and the one inside was enough.

There were no schedules, no alarms. Just slow mornings, tangled in sheets, the smell of pine and woodsmoke clinging to their skin. They played chess by the foggy window, teased each other over the rules. Laughed until tears welled up in their eyes, heads thrown back, careless and unguarded.

Zayne, so often the composed, untouchable surgeon, was different here. Softer. His hair messier, his voice lower, his rare smiles lingering longer.

And Inez, usually darting through embassies and meetings, left her phone off and her shoes by the door. Barefoot, loose hair, face flushed from the cold, she felt more like herself than she ever had.

When evening came, they wrapped themselves in thick blankets and stepped out onto the snow covered terrace.

The world was silent except for the soft sigh of wind through pines. Above them, stars scattered like spilled diamonds across the black velvet sky.

Sometimes the northern lights would appear.. green and violet, moving like some celestial river above the trees.

With mulled wine in hand, they spoke softly about everything and nothing.

About futures not yet written.

Would they stay in Linkon?

Would she one day leave the diplomatic job for her family?

Could he build a small clinic here, in the middle of nowhere?

They dreamed out loud, as people in love often do.

“How many kids do you want?” Inez asked once, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Zayne chuckled, his hand tightening around hers. “One would be a miracle. Two.. I’d be completely undone.”

Inez smiled into the night. “We’ll see. I bet you’d be the softest father in this whole galaxy.” She chuckled.

He chuckled too, no protest, just a faint nod as the answer.

And then they talked about how this cabin, this quiet world of snow and light, might one day become part of their family story.

A place to bring their children.
To build snowman and light lanterns.
To teach them how to find constellations in the night sky.

That honeymoon wasn’t written in guidebooks or captured on cameras. It was made of small, ordinary things.

The smell of jasmine in the morning tea.
The soft hush of snow falling on the roof.
The way his hand always found hers in sleep.
The warmth of a crackling fire.
The weight of a shared blanket.
The stolen glances across candlelit dinners.
The comfortable, grounding silence of two hearts so different, yet beating in time.

In that little cabin in the middle of nowhere, two opposite souls found not just each other. But a rhythm, a life, a love they could build upon.

And long after they had left, the cabin stood waiting.

For snowy nights and stargazing.
For children’s laughter.
For family stories yet to be told.

Linkon City.

Months passed and their life began in earnest.

Zayne returned to the hospital while Inez back to her diplomatic duties. They traveled, worked, and laughed together.

Until one day, Inez stood in front of their bathroom, a hand over her stomach, eyes wide while looking at the faint two red lines on her pregnancy test.

Later at night, they were sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in her trembling hands. Zayne was reading a book, but still managed to sense that something was different. She finally gathered the courage, took a breath, and spoke in a barely audible voice.

“Zayne.. I’m pregnant.”

For a second, the world held its breath.

Zayne blinked, the book slipping from his hand onto the floor with a soft thud. His usually composed face, the one Inez had known all this time, always calm, always controlled, cracked like thin glass under sudden pressure.

His lips parted, but no words came. His emerald eyes shimmered, wide and unguarded, showing something raw that Inez had never seen before. His breathing hitched, and his brow furrowed as if trying to process what had just been said, his heart outrunning his mind.

Then came a single, shaking word. “Really?!”

When Inez nodded, tears threatening to fall, something in Zayne broke open. His face twisted in a mixture of disbelief, joy, and terror. He laughed, a low, breathless, half shaky sound and without a word, pulled Inez into his arms, holding her as though she was the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

His shoulders trembled, his voice muffled against her hair. “I.. I don’t know how to be a father, Inez. But I swear I’ll learn. I swear I’ll protect both of you. I..”

She felt his heartbeat pounding against her cheek. In that moment, Zayne was no longer the cool, unshaken man the world knew. He was just a man, hopelessly in love, terrified and overjoyed, stripped bare by the news of a tiny new life about to change them both forever.

He cried. Actually cried.

“I’m going to be a father, love! And you.. you are going to be a mother! We are.. we are going to be parents!” he whispered, over and over.

The next few months.

The soft hum of the city outside filtered through the half open window, mingling with the scent of jasmine tea. Inez lay on the couch, one hand resting on her swollen belly, the other fiddling lazily with the hem of Zayne’s shirt as he sat beside her, reading journal on his tablet.

She sighed quietly, shifting to ease the dull ache in her back.

Without looking up, Zayne spoke. “Your breathing just changed. Are you uncomfortable?”

Inez chuckled, “stop diagnosing me, Doctor Li.”

At that, Zayne finally set the tablet down and turned toward her, his usual calm demeanor softened by a quiet smile. “Sorry.. now husband mode activated.”

He moved to kneel in front of her, gently taking her feet into his lap. “Tell me what hurts.”

“It’s just a little backache,” she murmured. “Normal stuff.”

Zayne’s brow furrowed. “Normal doesn’t mean you have to endure it.”

He reached for the small bottle of lavender oil on the table, one he’d insisted on buying after reading about its benefits for pregnancy, and began to gently massage her ankles and calves with practiced, careful hands. The tenderness in his touch was something only Inez ever knew.

“How’s our little one today?” he asked softly, his hand moving to rest on the swell of her belly.

Inez smiled. “Kicking like a tiny boxer.”

Zayne lowered his head, pressing his ear against her belly with a playful grin. “Hey, little one.. easy on your Mama. I’m watching you.”

Inez laughed, brushing his dark hair back. “Doctor mode again?”

He looked up at her, his expression quietly serious now. “Doctor, husband, father.. all of them want you safe, Inez.”

His voice trembled. So subtle most people wouldn’t have noticed. But she did.

She reached out, cupping his cheek. “I’m safe, Zayne. Because I have you.”

His calm facade cracked, just a little, as he leaned up and kissed her palm. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything as much as I love you both right now.”

And in that dim, peaceful house in Linkon City, with life quietly growing between them, Zayne wasn’t just a doctor anymore.

He was a man completely undone by love.

When her belly finally became fully round and bloom, they planned a babymoon. One last quiet escape before the world changed. There was only one place they could go.

The Cabin.

The trees greeted them like old friends.

Inez spent her days curled with books by the fire, sometimes she’d look for inspiration for their firstborn names in her tablet.

Zayne went on walks, checking supplies, restocking the medicine cabinet ‘just in case.’

Days passed softly.

At day, they cooked together in the small rustic kitchen, built snowman in the yard, and laid bundled up by the fire while Zayne read aloud old letters and stories left by his family.

At night, they stood beneath skies painted with ribbons of green and violet, the aurora borealis wrapping the heavens in color. Sometimes they are doing regular hikes as well, even just at the possible tracks for her condition. There they talked to the baby, counted their baby’s kicks, and stargazed.

Zayne would rest his hand on her belly, feeling the kicks and movements of the baby. “You see that?” he whispered to Inez. “That’s your first night under these stars, little one.”

Inez laughed. “And your Papa’s ridiculously sentimental under the northern lights.”

Everything felt perfect. Zayne prepared the cabin like a doctor would.. extra blankets, the backup generator, a fire burning strong.

Until one evening, only weeks before her due date, Inez gripped the terrace railing and gasped. A sharp cramp pulling her from sitting position. At first she thought it was nothing, but then came another, and another.

The snow was falling again. The aurora had returned. But she couldn’t masked her facial expression any longer.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me, Inez.” His voice had that mix of doctor calm and husband fear.

But then his instincts kicked in. That it’s all now happening for real.

Labor.

Early.

Unexpected.

He quickly assessed her, timing the contractions, checking her pulse, staying composed.. until a thought hit him like ice water.

They were too far from the hospital.

This was the forest.

No delivery room.

No team.

Only him.

They were alone.

And then as if completing the cue from the universe.. her water broke. The look on Zayne’s face changed, his calm facade cracking.

“Inez.. we’re having this baby here.”

“Here?” she breathed, pain lacing her voice.

He knelt by her side, his palm cupping her cheek. “I promise you! I’ve got you. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Not on my watch.”

He was saving so many people’s lives. But this time is different.

So much different.

He also had delivered babies before. In clinics, hospitals, emergencies.

But never like this. Never when the person he loved the most was the one breaking in front of him.

It was his own wife.. sweating, trembling, crying out his name between waves of pain.

He spread blankets. Heated water. Held her through every contraction.

While her face was pale, brows furrowed in pain, she said softly, “Zayne,” she groaned as another contraction clenching her from the inside out. “They’re closer now.”

He was already beside her, hands steady, voice low. “I know. It’s time.”

“Breathe, Inez.. you’re so strong! I need you to hold on,” he coaxed, his heart pounding so violently he thought it might burst.

“I can’t, Zayne.. this is too soon,” she cried, gripping his coat.

“You can, Inez,” he said, holding her face steady. “I’m right here. You’ve never been stronger than now.”

He laid out the sterile supplies on a folded blanket, hands practiced and calm, though his heart works otherwise.

“Sit, my love” he said gently, guiding her down onto the recliner deck chair he had padded with towels. The cold air nipped at their faces, but she was burning with effort.

He crouched between her legs, flashlight strapped to his head, breath steady. “You’re fully dilated. I can see the head. Just a few more pushes.”

Above them, the sky danced.. green and violet swirls of aurora borealis painting movement across the stars. It was unreal, like nature itself was watching.

“It hurts, Zayne! I.. I can’t..” Inez sobbed, tears streaking down her face.

Another contraction tore through her. She gritted her teeth, breath fogging in the air.

“You can. You will.” His voice trembled despite himself. He kissed her sweat dampened forehead, his own eyes stinging.

“I can’t!” she choked.

“You have to, Inez! You’re everything to me.. I need you to fight!”

Inwardly, terror gnawed at him. He felt like a man trying to hold up the sky, knowing if he faltered for even a second, the world would collapse. But he couldn’t show it.

Not now.

“Push.. now, my love. You’ve got this!”

She pushed all her might.

And then the baby slipped free, wet and red and beautiful, into his hands.

Zayne immediately cleared the airways, and after a heartbeat that felt far too long, the baby let out a sharp, angry cry.

“A girl,” Zayne breathed, eyes glassy. “She’s perfect.”

Inez sobbed, a laugh caught in her throat. “Let me see her.”

Zayne wrapped the baby in a towel warmed by the fire and laid her gently on Inez’s chest. “You did it, my love.”

But as Inez cradled the newborn against her, her body suddenly tensed again. Too soon for the afterbirth.

“Zayne.. something’s wrong,” she said, startled, panicked.

He froze for a beat, then knelt back down.

“What is it? Where does it hurt?”

She cried out as another contraction hit. Even stronger than before. Zayne’s hands moved quickly, pressing on her belly, feeling the fullness, and.. the movement.

And then it hit him.

“No.. No way!”

“What?” she gasped, breath ragged.

“There’s another baby.”

Inez blinked through the sweat in her eyes. “Another what?!”

“It’s twins, Inez. Somehow, they must’ve been hiding behind their sister the whole pregnancy. It’s a second baby.”

Her mouth fell open. “You’re serious?!”

Zayne was already moving, checking her vitals, readying the second set of tools. “Heartbeat’s strong. We’re doing this again. Right now.”

“I don’t know if I can..” she whispered.

“Yes, you can,” he said, squeezing her hand. “We’ve come this far.”

Time lost all meaning. Zayne felt her pulse falter, saw her lips paler. She was slipping, exhausted, trembling, her strength nearly gone. He clutched her hand, holding it against his lips.

“Don’t you dare, Inez! Don’t you dare to leave me!” His voice cracked, a sob lodged in his throat. “I can’t.. I can’t do this without you! Please be strong, my love.. for me, for our children, for us.. for yourself!”

As if getting a new energy boost from her husband’s words, now she‘s giving her all to fight back, her cries echoed in the night, raw and unfiltered. Zayne coached her, gently but firmly, as her body strained.

She pushed again.

Once..

Twice..

And finally with her last long, strained push, the second baby entered the world. Bigger than the first and let out a healthy strong cry.

Zayne cried as he held the newborn in his own trembling arms, the stars framing the moment. “A boy.”

He wrapped him tightly and placed him beside his sister on Inez’s chest. She stared at them both, stunned.

“A girl.. and a boy..” she whispered.

Zayne kissed her forehead. “Twins. Surprise twins.”

Above them, the sky shimmered silently. Below it, two newborns slept on their mother’s chest, her arms cradling them, her husband beside her with tear stained cheeks and shaking hands, holding his new little family, his new world under his warm embrace.

Out in the middle of the forest, on a cold wooden terrace beneath the stars, a family of two became four.

The forest had gone still. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, catching the shimmer of the aurora above like falling stars. Inez sat upright now, wrapped in a thick blanket, her back against the timbered wall of the cabin’s terrace. Her body was trembling with exhaustion, but her eyes were wide, fixed on the two swaddled bundles in her arms.

Zayne knelt beside her, one hand resting protectively on her leg, the other gently adjusting the blanket around their son, whose mouth moved in slow, sleepy motions.

Neither of them spoke for a long while.

Only the crackle of the fire inside, the rustle of wind in the pine branches, and the quiet, steady breathing of their children filled the space.

Inez broke the silence first.

“I keep thinking I’m going to wake up,” she whispered. “And I’ll still be pregnant. Still waiting.”

Zayne looked up at her. “It’s real,” he said softly. “They’re really here.”

She looked down at the baby girl lying on her chest. Her cheeks were pink from the cold air, tiny lips moving in unconscious motions. A quiet sigh escaped the newborn as she curled instinctively closer to her mother’s warmth.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” Inez said. “Like something broke open inside me, and all the fear just.. disappeared.”

Zayne looked at her. This woman who had screamed life into the dark, who had bled and cried and bore it all beneath a sky so vast it seemed infinite.

His eyes flicked upward, toward the streaking curtains of green and blue shimmering overhead.

Then to their daughter again.

And something clicked.

“We should call her Aurora,” he said suddenly, voice rough.

Inez blinked. “What?”

“Aurora,” he repeated. “Like the lights. The aurora borealis. She came while the sky looked like that.. while you were lit by it.. while she was lit by it.”

Inez stared down at the little girl, and something in her chest pulled tight.

Aurora.

It was fit. More than a name.. it was the moment.

She had arrived in the dark, in the cold, in the wild, and yet she brought light with her. A softness.. wonder.. and power.

“Aurora,” Inez whispered, brushing a trembling finger along her daughter’s tiny brow. “Yes.”

Zayne leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “Aurora,” he said again, and the wind seemed to carry it away through the trees, like the name had always belonged here.

Then Inez looked down at the boy in her arms. Bigger, stronger, but calmer. He hadn’t cried much.. just once, loud and short as though just enough to announce himself and nothing more.

Zayne followed her gaze. “And him?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “He came out of nowhere. Like a second heartbeat. Like.. ” She paused, searching. “Like a star you don’t see until you’re looking right at it.”

Zayne’s lips twitched into the barest smile. “A hidden constellation.”

Inez nodded slowly.

She tilted her head back, watching the aurora curl and pulse across the stars. Then she saw it! Just over the tree line.. a bright, unmistakable formation.

Three stars in a row. Orion’s Belt.

Orion.

“I see it,” she said, pointing. “There. Orion.”

Zayne followed her gaze and smiled, full and certain. “It fits.”

“He’s steady,” she said. “That’s what I felt when I held him. Like a compass. He’s going to be the one who grounds her.”

Zayne kissed her again, this time on her temple. “Aurora and Orion.”

Their names hung in the silence for a moment, two offerings to the forest and the sky.

Then, softly, as if answering, the lights above them flickered brightly.. curtains of green rippling permeated the sky as though blessing the twins chosen names.

And below them, in the arms of a woman who had given birth beneath the stars, two tiny lives shifted in their sleep, unaware they had already been named by the sky.

The next day, Zayne decided to brought his new family home to Linkon City. Inez sat in the back seat of the black SUV, wrapped in a thick coat, her head resting gently against the window, watching the sleepy twins bundled together in their car seats beside her. Aurora stirred once, her tiny lips puckering, and Orion gave a single soft grunt before settling again.

Zayne kept glancing at them in the rearview mirror. He hadn’t really slept. He’d only eaten because Inez made him. But now, as the sun rose on the edge of the horizon and the car neared Linkon City, the fatigue didn’t matter.

They were alive. Safe. And together.

The skyline of the city glimmered ahead.. modern and sharp, the morning sun brushing light off glass towers. The tires rolled over the familiar entrance ramp into the city’s medical district, and within minutes, they were pulling into the private underground parking of Akso Hospital, where Zayne had spent the better part of a decade saving other people’s lives, some of them were babies too.

And now, the miracle in the back seat was his.

Inez looked up as the elevator doors opened into the private suite. “It smells so.. clean,” she whispered, amused. “And warm. Like civilization.”

Zayne chuckled softly. “You did give birth on frozen lumber.”

They were met in the hallway by two familiar faces, Dr. Greyson, Zayne’s longtime friend and surgical colleague, and Nurse Yvonne, the kindhearted nurse who’d seen it all.

Greyson stopped mid step. His brows lifted as his eyes fell on the swaddled twins in Zayne’s arms. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Zayne smiled, “nope.”

“You were supposed to be hiking.”

“We did hike,” Inez said while chuckled a bit.

“Then how the hell did you manage to bring back two babies?”

Nurse Yvonne gasped, her hands already reaching for the clipboard from instinct. “Twins? Did you know?”

“No,” Zayne said. “We had no clue. Surprise second baby. Born on the terrace of the cabin under the northern lights.”

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Then Greyson let out a low whistle. “And here I thought you were the boring one.”

Zayne snorted. “Remind me to slap you after I have enough sleep.”

Yvonne’s eyes had softened as she leaned over the babies, gently checking their coloring and breathing. “They look strong,” she said. “Tiny, but healthy.”

“I still want everything scanned,” Zayne added quickly. “Hearts, lungs, brains, the works. I don’t care if I’m being paranoid. They were born outdoors in the middle of Finland in sub zero weather.”

“We’ve got you,” Yvonne said with quiet confidence. “The NICU is prepped. And I’ll put your wife in the maternity suite upstairs.”

Inez squeezed Zayne’s hand as they walked toward the elevator. “Feels strange,” she murmured. “Going from the forest to full of machines and white walls.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Just for a day. Then we can all go home.”

Twenty four hours later, the scans were in.. both babies and the mother were perfectly healthy.

Zayne stood by the window in the private recovery suite, watching soft snow fall outside over Linkon City, his arm around Inez who held Aurora. Orion was asleep in the bassinet beside her bed, a faint snore escaping his button nose.

“I still don’t think it fully hits me,” Inez whispered. “That we have two. That we made it.”

He kissed her temple. “I keep replaying that night. The sky, the cold, your strength.. I’ll never forget it. Ever.”

“And now?”

Zayne turned toward her, gaze softening. “Now we go home.”

When they pulled into the circular driveway of their house, a tall stone mansion tucked into a quiet, snow dusted neighborhood on the edge of Linkon’s northern quarter, the windows were glowing. Everything looked neat and warm.

Inside, the air smelled like cedarwood and old books. The marble floors clicked under their boots as they stepped in. Zayne carried both twins in his arms, one in each, as if he’d been born to do it.

Inez stood in the doorway, blinking.

She took a slow, deep breath.

They were home.

The soft ticking of an old clock echoed in the foyer. From outside, snowflakes tapped against the arched windows. Zayne turned toward the sweeping staircase and then stopped.

“Wait,” he said.

Inez looked at him. “What?”

“Before we go up.”

He stepped into the middle of the room and held both babies out slightly, looking up at the high, vaulted ceiling.

“I just want to say it,” he whispered.

“Aurora and Orion,” he said gently. “Welcome home.”

Two days had passed since they return to their own home, and the rhythm of the house had already begun to change.

There’s no more quiet, predictable days.. now it’s all replaced with soft newborn cries, the rustling of swaddling blankets, and whispered exchanges in the dim glow of nightlights. The fireplace flickered in the living room as Inez settled onto the couch, Aurora asleep against her chest in a soft wrap, while Orion snoozed in his father’s arms.

Zayne glanced at the time on his phone, then looked at Inez. “Let’s inform our parents now. Shall we?”

She gave a nervous smile, “okay..”

He tapped the screen, initiating the dual video call, first to Cape Town, where his parents were currently working with the World Health Alliance on infectious disease policy. Then to Geneva, where Inez’s parents were attending a series of political meetings. Both couples knew their children had returned safely, and that the baby had arrived, but they didn’t know everything yet.

The screen split into two.

On the left appeared Dr. Jace Li, tall, composed, with some of his hair already turned gray, sitting beside Dr. Althea Li, his wife and an esteemed pediatric surgeon whose eyes instantly softened the moment she saw her son.

On the right appeared The Respected General Mr. Arthur Wolfgang, seated beside his wife, The Foreign Minister Mrs. Elena Wolfgang, her makeup flawless even at midnight. Their eyes were sharp, until they saw their daughter’s face.

“Zayne!” Althea said first, leaning closer to the camera. “You look exhausted.”

“That’s because I am, Mom..” he chuckled.

Jace smiled with that deep, fatherly pride. “Where is our grandson?”

Arthur spoke next, his eyes darting across the screen. “or.. how is our granddaughter?”

Inez blinked. “Wait Papa, how did you..?”

Elena’s hand flew to her chest. “We just assumed it would be a girl.. you always said you felt like it was a girl.”

Zayne and Inez exchanged glances.

Then Zayne lifted both babies into view.

One in each arm.

“Actually..” he said, voice quiet, “we have both.”

Four jaws dropped. For a second, no one said anything.

Then..

“What?!” Althea gasped.

“Twins?!” Elena said, her voice trembling.

“You’re serious?” Arthur added, standing up slightly as if it would help him understand better.

Zayne nodded slowly. “It was a surprise. None of the ultrasounds picked up the second baby. He was tucked behind his sister the whole time. We didn’t find out until after Aurora was born.”

“And this all happened.. when? where?” Jace asked, brows furrowed, some of his instincts as a senior doctor activated, though his voice betrayed the awe.

“Four days ago, on the terrace,” Inez said. “At the cabin. Under the northern lights, Dad.”

There was silence for a beat.

Then Althea covered her mouth, tears slipping down her cheeks. “That’s.. the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

Elena, for once, was speechless. Her lips quivered as she stared at her daughter. “You named her Aurora, love?”

Inez nodded, smiling as her own eyes welled. “She was born beneath them. It’s just.. it felt right, Mama.”

Zayne shifted a little to proudly show the second sleeping twin. “And this little one is Orion.”

Jace gave a low, reverent laugh. “Stars. You named your children after the sky.”

“We had no plan, Dad..” Zayne said, “but in that moment, under that light, it felt like they named themselves.”

Arthur cleared his throat, unusually emotional. “You named them with meaning. I’m proud of you both, kiddos.”

Althea leaned forward, whispering in awe. “Aurora and Orion..”

“Can we meet them soon, boy?” Jace asked. “Please. We can be on the next flight.”

“Soon?” Zayne asked. “Give us a few days to catch our breath, Dad.” He chuckled.

Elena pressed her palm to her heart. “I don’t care if I have to cancel the summit in Brussels. I’m coming to hold my granddaughter and my grandson.”

Arthur laughed. “I second that.”

“I’m in!” Althea joined the cheerful banters.

As the call drew to a close, both sets of grandparents were teary eyed, waving with voices soft and grateful.

And when the screen finally went dark, Inez leaned into Zayne’s side, still holding their twins close.

Two Years Later

Snow blanketed the gardens outside, muffling the world, and the amber glow of the afternoon sun slanted through the tall arched windows of the playroom. The soft hum of classical piano played from the old speaker in the corner, but it was soon overtaken by the sharp patter of small feet on polished wood.

“Aurora, no climbing the bookshelf again!”

Zayne’s voice rang from the hallway, half scolding, half stifling a laugh.

The girl in question.. barely two, a mop of wild black curls and emerald eyes like her Papa’s, was already halfway up the low reading shelf, her chubby hand reaching for a plush owl perched above.

“I fly now!” she declared with absolute certainty.

From the play mat in the center of the room, Orion blinked slowly, his soft black hair sticking out slightly as he placed another block carefully atop the tower he’d been building for twenty silent minutes.

He didn’t even glance at his twin. “No fly,” he muttered under his breath.

Zayne swooped in just in time to catch Aurora before she tumbled backwards. She shrieked with glee and squirmed in his arms, trying to scale him like a jungle gym.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack by the age of forty,” he said, laughing as he sat her down beside her brother.

“You said I was born in the sky,” she said defiantly, wagging a tiny finger at him. “So I go up!”

Zayne shook his head in amazement. “You’re going to rule a planet one day, I swear.”

Meanwhile, Orion had taken advantage of the distraction to add a seventh block to his tower.. steady, precise, tongue peeking out in concentration. When Aurora leaned in with curious fingers, he gently moved her hand away without looking.

“No touch.”

Aurora frowned. “Why?”

“’Cause it fall.”

“You’re no fun!”

He looked up at her for the first time. “You too loud.”

“You too quiet.”

Zayne watched them go back and forth like little philosophers in diapers.

Then came the sound of the front door clicking shut, followed by footsteps.

“Peace treaty time,” Zayne called out. “Incoming reinforcements.”

Inez entered, brushing snow from her coat, a tote bag of groceries in hand. Her eyes lit up as she saw her children sprawled on the playroom floor.

Aurora ran immediately into her arms. “Mama! I was fly!”

Inez caught her, swinging her gently. “Of course you were.”

Orion walked up slower, clutching a wooden block in one hand. “Mama.”

She bent down and kissed his forehead. “Hi, baby. Building something amazing again?”

He nodded seriously. “Tall tower. Strong.”

“Just like you,” she said.

Zayne leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching the scene with quiet reverence.

“You ever think about how they’re completely opposite?” he said. “Same sky, same night, same parents.. and yet it’s like they came from the opposite poles of the universe.”

Inez chuckled. “Just like their parents then.”

He chuckled too, then stepped beside her and put an arm around her waist. “Right. Aurora has your wild spirit, while Orion has my quiet thinking.”

She nodded softly, looking down at the twins, now bickering gently over a crayon.

Aurora was intense, expressive, and bold. Talking before she could walk, always asking ‘why?’ and rarely taking ‘no’ for an answer. She climbed, danced, and pretended to fly. Her laughter was loud, her tantrums were louder, and her love is infinite.

Orion was observant, gentle, methodical. He studied patterns in the way birds moved. He liked to stack, organize, and quietly crawl into their bed when he had a nightmare without saying a word. He listened more than he spoke, but when he did, it was with intention.

Zayne crouched down beside them both and held out his hands. “Who wants to walk to the kitchen and help make dinner?”

Aurora shot up. “ME!”

Orion hesitated, then grabbed Aurora’s hand quietly.

Their wobbly steps made Inez tear up every time, legs still uncertain, steps uneven, but together they always moved forward.

As they disappeared into the kitchen, hand in hand, one already babbling about pasta, the other quietly scanning the tile for cracks, Inez whispered to Zayne..

“Two stars. One sky.”

And Zayne, watching their little constellation vanish around the corner, smiled wide.

“Perfect opposites,” he said. “Perfect balance.”

Tomorrow morning began with a quiet one.

Too quiet..

Aurora, usually the first to burst from bed and bounce down the hallway in her tiny wool socks, had stayed curled up in her blanket, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed.

Zayne noticed it first.

He’d come in with a fresh mug of cocoa for her and found her still in bed, unmoving, silent.

“Aurora?” he said gently, kneeling beside her.

She turned her head slowly, blinking, but didn’t speak.

He pressed a hand to her forehead.

And it was hot. Too hot even.

By the time Inez reached the room, Zayne had already wrapped her in a soft blanket and scooped her into his arms.

“She’s running a fever,” he said quietly.

Aurora nestled into his shoulder without a word, and that alone told Inez how serious it was. Their daughter was rarely silent, even when tired, even when sad. But now? Her spark had dimmed.

They spent the day in the nursery, a humidifier hissing softly in the corner, the lights low. Inez ran a cool cloth across her daughter’s brow while Zayne monitored her vitals with the precision of a seasoned doctor and the fear of a father.

By nightfall, Aurora’s fever was climbing. She whimpered in her sleep, and Zayne stayed beside her crib, counting breaths, listening for changes in rhythm, pulse, tone. Inez had moved a mattress beside the bed, refusing to leave her side.

In the background, Orion watched.

He didn’t say much.

He didn’t complain when his bedtime story was skipped, or when dinner came late, or when both his parents forgot to notice the drawing he’d made that morning of a spaceship flying through ‘Mama, Papa, Rora, and me stars.’

Instead, he hovered quietly in the hallway, clutching his blanket, peeking into the nursery where his sister lay sleeping and pale.

At one point, when Inez came out to grab medicine from the cabinet, Orion stood beside her, small and silent.

“Is she okay?” he whispered.

Inez kneeled and pulled him close. “She’s just sick, my love. Papa and I are doing everything we can.”

He nodded once.

But she noticed then..

He felt warm too.

Very warm.

“I think he’s..” she began, turning toward Zayne as he stepped out of the nursery. But Zayne was already watching Orion closely, his doctor instincts sharp.

He nodded and said softly. “He’s sick too.”

Inez blinked. “Then why didn’t he say anything?”

Zayne crouched down and lifted Orion into his arms. The boy curled into him, smaller than usual, cheeks pink.

“Because all the attention was on his sister,” Zayne murmured. “He didn’t want to take that away from her.”

At that, Inez’s heart cracked open. She cupped her son’s face gently. “Baby, you should’ve told us.”

Orion shrugged weakly, his voice barely audible. “Rora needed you more.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Inez whispered, kissing his forehead. “You both need us.”

Zayne brought him into the nursery, tucking him beside Aurora in the same bed. She stirred at the warmth of him beside her and turned just enough to rest her forehead against his.

She didn’t open her eyes. But her small hand found his.

And Orion, half asleep already, wrapped his tiny fingers around hers.

Zayne and Inez sat side by side at the edge of the bed, one hand each gently stroking their children’s hair.

“Our stars,” Inez whispered, eyes filled with tears. “Even when they’re sick, they orbit around one another.”

Zayne nodded, brushing Aurora’s curls back as he kept count of their breathing, alert to every sound.

“I’m terrified,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Even knowing everything I know as a doctor.. it’s different when it’s your own.”

Inez leaned her head on his shoulder. “I know.”

They stayed that way through the night, changing the damp cloths, making sure the twins stay hydrated, checking up their temperature, holding their little ones through shivers and soft cries.

And in the quiet hours before dawn, when the fever began to break. First in Aurora, then in Orion. They exhaled as if they’d been holding their breath for days.

When the children finally fell into peaceful, healing sleep, their hands still linked beneath the blankets, Inez whispered..

“They’re stronger than we know.”

Zayne looked at her, then at them. “Because they have each other.”

The first warmth of dawn peeked through the curtains, a soft amber hue stretching across the nursery walls. The night had been long, filled with fevers, worry, whispered lullabies, and cold compresses. But by the time the sun rose, the house was finally quiet with peace.

On the floor, side by side on a mattress pulled from the guest bed, Zayne and Inez lay asleep, their bodies tangled in blankets, exhaustion finally winning over vigilance.

From the crib above, a small stirring.

Then a tiny whisper.

“Rora.. wake up.”

“I’m awake already, Rion,” she murmured, pushing herself up onto her elbows.

Aurora’s eyes were clearer now, the fever flushed away, replaced by the familiar twinkle. Beside her, Orion slid down the edge of the bed with a soft thump, steadying himself on the frame before reaching a hand up to help her down.

They padded barefoot over to where their parents lay in deep, dreamless sleep.

Aurora crouched beside Inez, placing a delicate kiss on her mother’s cheek.

Orion did the same with Zayne, pressing his lips gently to his father’s rough stubble.

“Thank you, Mama,” Aurora whispered.

“Thank you, Papa,” Orion echoed.

Inez stirred first, eyes fluttering open to the sight of her daughter’s beaming face.

Zayne followed, blinking slowly as he saw Orion grinning down at him, cheeks pink with warmth, hair a perfect morning mess.

“We feel better,” Aurora declared proudly, flopping onto the mattress between them.

Orion nodded, lying beside his sister. “You fixed us.”

Zayne laughed softly, pulling both of them into his arms. “You fixed us too.”

Inez wrapped them all in her arms, tears stinging her eyes. “My little stars.”

On the next year

It’s the twins third birthday, and they decided to celebrate it at Zayne’s Cabin. The wind rustled through the pines once more, just like it had three years ago, but this time, there was no urgency, only joy. The cabin stood strong and welcoming beneath the twilight sky, its warm windows glowing in the snow covered silence.

Zayne stepped out onto the terrace with Orion riding on his shoulders, a wool beanie snug over his soft black locks. Inez followed, guiding Aurora by the hand as she clutched her birthday lantern, a glowing glass jar filled with tiny lights.

The twins had insisted they wanted to come here for their birthday.

Back to ‘the magic house.’

To the place of their beginning.

“Why does it feel.. sacred?” Inez whispered as they stepped outside.

Zayne smiled. “Because this is where the universe handed us everything.”

The sun had just dipped beneath the trees, casting lavender shadows over the snow. The sky was already darkening, and with it, the first flickers appeared.

‘Aurora borealis’, shimmering green and pink, spreading like a divine veil above the trees.

Aurora gasped. “That’s me!”

Orion pointed toward the eastern sky. “And there’s me!”

Above them, three stars twinkled in perfect line ‘Orion’s Belt,’ bright and clear.

Inez wrapped an arm around Zayne as the twins ran ahead, their footsteps crunching in the snow. “They’re starting to understand it,” she whispered.

“They were born under that sky,” Zayne said, watching them. “Now they’re growing up beneath it.”

A picnic blanket was spread near the terrace stairs, complete with warm cider in little thermoses and a birthday cake shaped like a shooting star. The twins clapped when they saw it, their laughter echoing in the wide, quiet forest.

Later that night, they sat huddled in blankets on the terrace, just as they had three years ago. While this time, all four of them were wrapped in warmth, health, and light.

Aurora rested her head on Inez’s lap, a sleepy smile on her face.

Orion leaned against Zayne’s side, his thumb gently rubbing the edge of his scarf.

“Papa,” Aurora mumbled, “thank you for catching me when I was born.”

Zayne laughed, brushing her hair back. “You didn’t give me much choice.”

Orion looked up at his father. “You caught me too?”

Zayne looked at Inez, their eyes locking.

He nodded and said, voice warm. “Yes, buddy..”

The firepit crackled softly on the terrace of the cabin, flames glowing against the surrounding snow. The aurora shimmered above them, green and violet rippling like a celestial river across the night sky. The family sat bundled in thick blankets, hot drinks steaming in their hands, nestled on a large wooden bench right where it had all happened.. on this very spot, three years ago.

Aurora sat curled beside her mother, her legs tucked beneath her, face turned toward the sky. Orion rested between his father’s arms, gaze steady, lips pursed as he studied the stars.

The moment was quiet, calm, almost holy.

And then Aurora broke the silence.

“Mama.. Papa..” she said, twisting slightly. “Can you tell us the story again?”

Zayne smiled faintly. “Which story, my love?”

Aurora tilted her chin up. “The night we were born.”

Orion nodded slowly, his amethyst eyes similar to his Mama’s still on the sky. “But this time.. can you tell everything?”

Zayne and Inez exchanged glances.. knowing ones. They had told bits and pieces before. But now, the children were ready.

Zayne took a slow breath and pulled them closer. “Alright. Everything.”

Inez’s voice was the first to break the hush of the forest.

“It was a night just like this,” she said softly, brushing Aurora’s hair back. “We were here.. just your Papa and me. The world was very quiet. And then, without warning.. I felt a pain.”

“A strong pain?” Aurora whispered, eyes wide.

“The strongest,” Inez chuckled. “You were ready. You didn’t wait for anyone. Not even a hospital.”

Zayne took over, his voice low and warm. “We didn’t have time. Your Mama was in labor, and we were in the middle of the forest. So I helped her.. right here on this very terrace.”

He paused, glancing down at them. “And then you were born first, Aurora.”

Aurora grinned. “Of course I was.”

“You came out crying and fierce,” Inez added. “Eyes open. Brave. Loud. Like you had already decided who you were.”

“But..” Orion said softly. “What about me?”

Zayne smiled. “That’s the part we never forget.”

He glanced back at the sky, letting the memory rise like steam from the snow.

“Your Mama was holding Aurora. We thought it was over. We were crying, laughing.. and then suddenly, she felt something shift. So I checked again.”

“And then I knew,” he whispered. “You were there. Quiet. Waiting. Tucked behind your sister the whole time. Like a little secret.”

Orion’s mouth fell open slightly, the thought washing over him like a soft wave.

“You didn’t cry right away,” Inez said, her hand sliding gently over his. “You just opened your eyes and looked straight at me. Like you already knew everything.”

Zayne nodded. “You were calm. Steady. But strong. So strong.”

“The sky above us was glowing,” Inez added, her voice cracking just a bit. “The aurora was dancing. And far off, just over the trees, we saw Orion’s Belt shining down.”

“That’s how you got your names,” Zayne said. “Aurora, after the lights. Orion, after the stars.”

“You were born under the sky,” Inez whispered. “And the sky named you.”

There was silence again. This time, reverent.

The twins looked up at the vast sky above them.

“Was it scary?” Aurora asked softly.

“Yes,” Inez answered honestly. “But also.. it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever lived through.”

Orion looked at his father. “Did you cry, Papa?”

Zayne chuckled under his breath. “I did. A lot. I was a doctor, but I wasn’t prepared to become a father like that. Not in the wild. Not with the stars so close I could almost touch them.”

Aurora leaned back into Inez’s arms. “I want to be brave like that.”

Orion crawled up beside Zayne and rested his head against his chest. “And I want to take care of people like you did.”

Zayne smiled, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “You already do.”

All four of them sat still for a moment.. right there on the wood where new life had once begun.

And above them, the aurora and orion surged brighter.

As if remembering.

As if celebrating.

The lights stretched wide across the sky, as if cradling the little family below.

The girl of the light, the boy of the stars, and the two who had brought them into the world.

The next couple days.

Back to Linkon City, where the snow wasn’t quite as soft or untouched, the charm of Lapland still clung to them. Suitcases sat unpacked in the hallway. But neither Inez nor Zayne could resist the twin tugging of little hands begging for “one more snowman, please!”

“We have to make him big, Papa!” Orion declared, already diving into the snow with his tiny white mittens.

“Biggest in the whole city!” Aurora chimed in, her black curls bouncing.

Bundled in matching puffy winter suits, fluffy earmuffs and mittens, the four of them stepped into their snow covered backyard.

Together, they worked to build their masterpiece.

Zayne rolled the base with Orion, showing him how to pack the snow tight, his mittens covered in snow. His dark hair dusted with white flakes. He couldn’t help but laugh when Aurora tried to lift a ball of snow nearly half her size.

Inez helped shape the head, smoothing the cheeks with her mittens and placing a bright red bowtie beneath the snowman’s face. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, her soft laughter warming the frosty air.

Finally, it was the time for the nose.

Aurora, always mischievous, snatched a carrot from her Mama’s grocery basket like it was a secret treasure. Holding it up in victory, she squealed.

“Papa! This is for Mr. Snowmy’s nose!”

Zayne grimaced in mock horror, his brow furrowed though a smile tugged at his lips. “Aurora.. you know Papa hates carrots, right?”

Orion immediately burst out laughing, practically tumbling into the snow.
“You can’t let a snowman smell like carrots, Rora! Papa will run away, haha..” he teased, his eyes sparkling.

Inez, kneeling in the snow, dug into the snack bag she’d brought. “How about this one instead, baby?” she offered, holding up a crunchy cone. “It’s pointy, and it won’t make Papa run away.”

Aurora’s little face scrunched in thoughtful concentration, her mittened hand holding both carrot and cone. She peered up at her father’s expression.

“Papa, you’re no fun, like Rion!” she pouted her tiny lips while choosing a cone and put the carrot back at her Mama’s grocery basket.

Zayne scooped Aurora up into his arms, holding her steady as she carefully pressed the cone onto the snowman’s face.

“Thank you sweet munchkin, for choosing a cone instead of carrot. Your love will forever ingrained in Papa’s heart.” Zayne dramatically said that to his daughter, while nuzzling her rosy chubby cheeks.

“Nah.. it wasn’t love, I was just mature enough to let that happened, Papa..”

Everyone laughed again, the cold momentarily forgotten.

Later, the still focused one, Orion handed her two golden buttons.. their ‘magic orbs’ as Aurora proudly announced, because every snowman needed magic to stay alive.

Inez caught it all on her camera. Her heart full, she took a step back and captured the sight..

Zayne lifting Aurora while Orion bouncing beside them, their giant snowman stand tall, and behind them, the thick white snow still falling from the gray, gentle sky.

In that moment, she thought about how far they’d come.

From the night they first argued at a Helsinki gala..
To vows under the falling cherry blossom petals..
To so many memories they had shared at the tiny cabin in the woods..
Until they had these two brilliant, spirited little humans who carried pieces of both of them.

Home.

She realized, it wasn’t a city or a building.
It was these small, unplanned moments.
Laughter in the snow.
Magic in everyday things.
The warmth of the hands that held in cold air.

As snowflakes drifted down, the family of four stood before their giant snowman, cheeks flushed, hearts full.

One last touch of magic had followed them home.

And somehow, the world felt exactly right.

‘Our Story — END (?)’

Alunan musik waltz menggema di sebuah dome, lengkap dengan semua ornamen khas yang mengisyaratkan akan adanya sebuah pesta. Dan memang benar, saat ini sedang diadakan pesta untuk merayakan hari ulang tahun kota. Bukan hanya di tempat ini saja, namun hampir disetiap sudutnya terdapat perayaan yang dilakukan oleh warga, mulai dari berkumpul dan makan bersama, melakukan kegiatan kegemaran mereka masing-masing, sambil bercengkrama dan tertawa.

Begitu juga di Linkon Dome. Sebuah acara digelar sebagai bentuk ucapan terima kasih kepada sebagian warga yang dianggap telah berhasil dalam upaya turut andil menjaga kedamaian dan keamanan kota.

Tentu saja kau masuk ke dalam jajaran para undangan. Seorang hunter yang sudah bertaruh nyawa hampir setiap harinya, demi melindungi warga kota. Selain itu, semua rekan dari berbagai divisi pun mendapat kehormatan untuk menghadiri acara yang sama.

Setiap tahunnya selalu seperti itu, namun yang kali ini membuat sedikit berbeda ialah tema dari pesta dansa tersebut.

Masquarede, alias pesta topeng.

Ya, benar. Sebuah pesta dimana setiap undangan yang hadir diharuskan untuk mengenakan topeng selama acara berlangsung.

Setidaknya butuh waktu kurang dari seminggu untukmu bisa mempersiapkan semua perintilan yang kau butuhkan untuk pesta kali ini. Gaun, aksesoris, sepatu, dan tentu saja.. topeng itu sendiri. Melawan wanderers tidak membutuhkan semua hal yang baru saja disebutkan tadi, maka tentu saja kau harus membeli semua barang yang mungkin hanya akan terpakai sekali seumur hidup itu.

Tapi syukurlah dengan bantuan sahabatmu, Tara, dan Zayne, iya.. Zayne, si dokter yang bahkan lebih dingin dari kulkas dua pintu itu, akhirnya semua keperluanmu untuk acara malam ini sudah lengkap.

“Gorgeous..” satu kata tersebut spontan terlontar dari mulut Zayne. Pria itu memang mengajakmu untuk menjadi partnernya di acara ini.

Sebagai seorang dokter andalan, daftar undangan pesta malam ini tentu saja tidak akan kelolosan untuk menuliskan namanya.

Dengan pakaian dan topeng nan serasi, kalian nampak seolah melengkapi satu sama lain. Tuxedo legamnya yang dihiasi beberapa detail keemasan, membuat orang yang baru mengenalnya bisa saja mengira bahwa ia adalah keturunan terkahir dari kerajaan entah di Philos ataupun Lemuria. Surai pekatnya pun seolah semakin membingkai kesempurnaan dari pria dengan tubuh jenjang dan pesona yang tenang itu.

Kaupun tak kalah rupawan malam ini, tidak berlebihan kiranya saat Zayne terkesima dengan penampilan anggunmu. Gaun panjang hitam yang elegan, dengan beberapa sulaman berwarna senada dengan ornamem di tuxedo Zayne, membuat siapapun yang sekilas menatap kalian, tanpa sadar akan kembali menatap lagi dengan waktu yang lebih lama.

Dan hal tersebut rupanya mampu membuat ketegangan di dalam hatimu semakin membuncah. Seolah mau meledak rasanya. Zayne adalah seorang pria yang hampir sempurna, bagaimana kalau nanti kau merusak pesonanya karena kecerobohanmu? Begitulah kira-kira hal yang memenuhi pikiranmu saat ini.

Für Elise — Ludwig van Beethoven

“Zayne, aku belum yakin urutan langkah dansanya.”

“Just follow me, I will lead the way.”

Maka dengan itu, kalian mulai melangkahkan kaki ke lantai dansa.

Semua mata tertuju pada kalian, dan beberapa pasangan lain yang juga tengah asik melenggok mengikuti ritme melody klasik tersebut.

Hingga sekitar sepuluh menit kemudian, dan kau memutuskan untuk keluar sejenak dari kerumunan. Masih dengan Zayne yang mengikuti setiap langkahmu tentunya.

“Kamu baik-baik saja?” tanyanya lembut, sambil mengusap pelan pundakmu.

“Ya. I’m good, don’t worry.”

“I will bring you drink. Red or white wine, dear?”

“Red please. Thank you, Zayne.”

Sejenak engkau menarik nafas yang masih sedikit tersengal setelah berdansa dengan waktu yang tidak bisa dibilang sebentar itu.

Hingga sebuah suara familiar berhasil menginterupsimu. “Hey! Aku tahu kamu pasti ada disini juga” pekik suara itu dengan nada cerianya yang khas.

“Rafayel?”

“Hm~ beberapa hari ini tidak bisa dihubungi, aku kira kamu sakit. Ternyata hanya sedang asik pacaran saja” kalimat cukup panjang itu meluncur dengan bentukan bibirnya yang semakin lama semakin mengerucut lucu.

Dia adalah seorang pelukis muda, walau demikian hasil karyanya sudah banyak yang terjual dengan harga tinggi. Hebatnya lagi, sebagian besar dari hasil yang ia peroleh tersebut justru disumbangkan untuk keperluan masyarakat yang lebih membutuhkan. Karena itulah ia juga mendapat undangan untuk menghadiri pesta malam ini.

“Haha.. siapa yang pacaran sih? Aku datang dengan sahabatku kok. Itu dia! Zayne, kenalkan dia Rafayel. Waktu itu lukisan dia sempat kita selidiki di rumah salah satu pasienmu.”

“Oh, ya. Aku ingat. Aku, Zayne.”

“Ya.. ya.. tapi itu bukan salahku ya! Aku juga tidak tahu kalau bahan yang aku pakai untuk melukis ternyata cukup berbahaya. Oh ya, aku Rafayel. Senang bertemu denganmu, sahabat bodyguard-ku.”

Walau masih nampak bingung, namun Zayne mengiyakan saja apa kata Rafayel, sambil menjabat tangan pria yang lebih muda darinya itu.

“Berdansalah denganku sebentar, Miss.”

“Hm?” masih kebingungan, namun kau tak sempat menjawab apa-apa saat tangan indah Rafayel menarikmu bahkan dengan sedikit dorongan lembut dari tangan Zayne. Menoleh sekilas, kau melihat senyum tipis terukir diwajahnya, dengan anggukan kecil yang seolah mengizinkanmu dan Rafayel berdansa bersama, meninggalkannya sejenak dengan segelas red wine yang berada di genggaman tangan kanannya.

The Tale of the Kalendar Prince — Scheherazade

“I miss you” lirih pria dihadapanmu. Sedikit berbeda dengan ritme dansa Zayne yang lembut, entah karena efek lagu yang memang tidak selembut Für Elise, namun gerakan Rafayel terasa cukup lincah untuk ukuran lagu waltz. Yang hebatnya lagi, langkahnya tetap on tempo.

Semakin menawan dengan tubuh indahnya yang terbalut tuxedo berwarna royal purple dengan beberapa detail keemasan yang berhasil mengangkat kontras kulit putih dan rambut keunguannya. Sangat pas! Tidak kurang dan tidak berlebihan juga.

“Sorry, kau tahu sendiri aku sedang ada banyak misi. Serangan wanderer meningkat cukup pesat beberapa hari belakangan ini.”

“Iya. Aku tahu. But still, I missed you. So I..”

Rafayel masih melontarkan kalimat panjangnya kala kekuatan indera pendengaranmu seketika berkurang, karena terdistraksi oleh rangsangan pada netra yang sedang menatap lekat sosok pria di ujung tribun lantai dua.

“Kamu sendiri bagaimana? Hey! kenapa malah melamun?” suara kencang Rafayel setidaknya berhasil kembali membawamu pada kenyataan bahwa saat ini kau bahkan masih sedang berdansa dengannya.

“Aku butuh udara segar Raf. Dan tolong, tetaplah disini, aku tidak ingin menjadi perusak suasana acara. And before you ask about it, I’m fine. I’m just a little bit tired I believe.”

“You sure?” mengusap lembut suraimu, pria itu mengangguk kecil saat melihat kau juga melakukan hal yang sama sebelumnya. Mengangguk untuk memastikan bahwa kau baik-baik saja.

Perlahan kau langkahkan kaki ke arah balkon, udara segar memang sangat baik untuk tubuh yang sedang lelah. Saking lelahnya hingga tadi kau seolah melihat sosok yang sempat kau cari selama ini. Seorang pria yang sudah menyelamatkanmu saat kau masih kecil dulu.

“Gak sih.. gak mungkin.. gak akan mungkinlah.. gak akan mungkin kan?” lantunan itu meluncur beberapa kali dari bibirmu yang sedang melakukan monolog.

“Apanya yang tidak mungkin?” sahut ringan seorang pria yang membuatmu reflek menoleh.

“Hm? Hah!”

Seolah sebagian nafasmu tercekat di pangkal kerongkongan, kau merasakan sesak dan pusing. Bahkan balkon tempatmu berdiri nampak semakin menghilang dan berubah menjadi tempat yang kau takuti itu, tempat yang membawa trauma berkepanjangan hingga selalu melingkupi tidur nyenyakmu sampai beberapa tahun lalu. Temaram rembulan pun mulai berganti dengan pendaran cahaya merah dan cipratan cairan yang mengenai seluruh tubuhmu.

Merah

Lengket

Anyir

Dan berbekas

“Hhh.. tidak.. tidak mungkin.. kau..”

Hujan deras melingkupi setiap sudut pandangmu
Tak ada barang satu pun yang masih berdiri tegap di sekitar situ
Hanya tinggal kau, satu, berseru, dan mengadu entah pada sesiapa itu
Dengan buku-buku tangan mungilmu yang semakin membiru.

Sangat kontras dengan air berwarna merah yang menggenang
Kini tampak seorang pria berdiri dengan tenang
Topeng dan pakaian bangsawannya terlihat bersinar terang
Dan tebasan pedangnya mampu membuat nyawa lawan meregang.

Lalu tak lama kemudian, ia berhadapan dengan si gadis mungil
Sebab takut, tanpa aba-aba gadis itu pun menyingkir
Hingga ia jatuh terduduk diatas bebatuan kerikil
Membuat sang kesatria tersadar bahwa (ia) sudah kembali terlahir.

“Jangan takut. Aku Lumiere, dan aku tidak akan menyakitimu. Siapa namamu, hm?”

Sedikit terbelalak saat ia mendengarmu menyebutkan nama
Karena sungguh itu adalah sebuah nama yang sama
Nama yang selama ini sudah mampu membuatnya menderita
Akan adanya takdir pahit untuk mereka di akhir cerita.

“Lu.. miere?” hanya satu kata, satu nama saja, namun berhasil membuatmu tak dapat mengucapkannya dengan satu kali tarikan nafas.

Sedetik pria itu nampak terkejut hingga membelalakkan mata dibalik topengnya yang berwarana keperakan, namun detik berikutnya dia justru terkekeh tenang sambil melepas topengnya.

“Iya, aku Lumiere. Lebih tepatnya sedang berperan sebagai Beliau malam ini, haha..”

Dia Xavier, rekanmu satu tim. Secara fisik memang dia memiliki kemiripan dengan Lumiere yang tidak dapat dipungkiri. Tapi pembawaan mereka sangat jauh berbeda. Dan sosok yang kau lihat beberapa detik lalu bukanlah Xavier. Kamu sangat yakin akan hal itu.

“No, stop! Jangan mendekat” ucapmu sambil menggerakkan telapak tangan kananmu di hadapan Xavier, ya atau Lumiere seperti yang kau yakini.

“Kamu kenapa? Jangan aneh gitu dong. Kamu tidak benar-benar sedang berpikir kalau aku Lumiere kan?”

Seolah tidak mendengar ucapanmu, kini pria dengan surai keperakannya itu semakin mendekat padamu. Langkah pelan ia ambil, satu demi satu, membuatmu tanpa sadar sudah berada tepat di hadapannya.

Di hadapan mata biru yang setiap harinya tidak terlalu menyita perhatianmu. Namun kini kau seolah terpaku, terdiam dan membisu.

“May I have the dance ?”

Sungguh, kau berani bersumpah kalau pria ini bukan Xavier. Pesona ini, adalah pesona yang pernah kau rasakan empat belas tahun lalu. Saat itu kau memang masih berusia sepuluh. Tapi bukan berarti kau tidak dapat merasakan pesona kuat seorang kesatria seperti Lumiere, bukan?

Namun jika memang benar ia Lumiere, mengapa dia masih seperti dulu? Sama sekali tidak menua barang sedikitpun. Semua apa yang ada dihadapanmu adalah apa yang pernah kau lihat lekat-lekat dulu.

“Shall we?” tanya pria itu setelah kembali memasang topeng, lalu mengulurkan tangannya kearahmu.

Pas de Deux — Tschaikovsky

Musik grande mengiringi langkah kalian saat pintu dome kembali terbuka.

Kontras warna putih dan hitam yang kalian kenakan dari ujung rambut hingga kaki, mampu menghipnotis setiap tatapan yang tadinya acuh jadi memperhatikan secara utuh.

Sekelibat ekor matamu menangkap reaksi dari dua orang yang kau kenal dan sempat berdansa denganmu sebelumnya. Yang ber-iris emerald nampak sedikit mengerutkan alisnya, sementara si surai ungu lebih jelas memperlihatkan keterkejutannya.

Bagian awal musik klasik itu mulai mengalun, begitu juga dengan langkah ringan kalian. Berbeda lagi dengan langkah lembut Zayne atau gerak lincah Rafayel. Cara Xavier membimbingmu berdansa, terasa sangat dominan dan menuntut, namun disisi lain masih tetap terasa anggun dan elegan. Hal yang makin membuatmu yakin kalau dia bukanlah Xavier seperti yang selama ini kau kenal.

Sejak kapan manusia yang sehari-harinya selalu berburu wanderer dengan dirimu, memiliki waktu untuk berlatih dansa dengan kemampuan sekelas Pangeran? Kecuali kalau memang secara diam-diam dia adalah seorang pangeran dari negeri antah berantah. Hal yang sama sekali tidak pernah terpikirkan olehmu sebelumnya.

“Tanyakan saja, apa yang ada di dalam kepala kecilmu itu” tak kunjung mendapat jawaban darimu, maka ia pun melanjutkan kalimatnya.

“Kenapa kau bisa berpikir kalau aku Lumiere, hum? Apa hanya karena kami mirip? Oh ayolah.. kalaupun dia masih ada, pasti sekarang dia sudah diusia paruh baya. Apa aku terlihat seperti itu?”

Kau hanya menggelengkan kepalamu perlahan.

“Jangan terlalu dipikirkan. Tapi kalau kau masih ingin berbagi cerita itu denganku, maka aku akan mendengarkannya seperti biasa.”

Kali ini kau mengangguk.

“Aku masih mengingat dengan jelas semua cerita tentang Lumiere yang menyelamatkanmu dari serangan pertama wanderer belasan tahun lalu, hingga kau kehilangan kedua orang tuamu, dan bertemu nenek juga kakakmu.”

“Benarkah? Terima kasih, Xav..”

“Uhum, detil ceritamu bahkan sampai berhasil membuatku seolah merasakannya sendiri.”

Kau terkesiap mendengarnya, bahkan sampai terharu. Pria yang selama ini nampak acuh itu ternyata sampai berkenan mengingat keseluruhan ceritamu.

Paruh kedua lagu mulai terputar, intensitas melodi yang tadinya tenang kini berubah menjadi lebih rapat dan semakin megah.

“Bagaimana aku membayangkan kalau aku sedang berada disana, melawan para wanderer sialan itu dengan pedangku”

Tebasan pedang dengan gantungan bintang berwarna kuning itu seketika berhasil memisahkan tubuh wanderer menjadi dua bagian. Begitu seterusnya hingga semua serangan itu berakhir hanya dalam waktu yang cukup singkat

“Lalu kau yang waktu itu masih kecil menangis ketakutan di belakangku, sambil menekukkan lutut dan ruas jarimu mulai membiru karena kedingingan”

Isak tangismu tak jua mereda bahkan dengan keadaan yang sudah mulai membaik, membuat lelaki dewasa di hadapanmu sedikit kebingungan.

“Kau tidak apa-apa?” tanyanya seraya melepas jubah keunguan yang ia pakai dan meneyelimutkannya padamu yang nampak kedinginan hingga beberapa bagian jarimu membiru.

“Gaun putihmu yang terciprat darah. Benar-benar cerita yang tidak akan bisa aku lupakan. Tapi syukurlah kau sudah tidak apa-apa.”

Merasakan gerakan yang tiba-tiba dari pria tadi, kau yang terkejut justru berlari menjauh darinya, namun sayang kaki mungilmu terantuk batuan kerikil yang membuatmu terjatuh.

“Jangan takut. Aku Lumiere, dan aku tidak akan menyakitimu. Siapa namamu, hm?” perlahan ia mendekat dan menepuk lembut debu-debu yang menempel pada gaun putih yang sudah tidak tampak sebagaimana warna aslinya, karena banyaknya cipratan darah yang melekat disana.

Tapi tunggu..

“X.. Xav”

“Hm?”

Kau tidak dapat melanjutkan kalimatmu, hingga tepat pada saat lagu panjang tersebut berakhir, segera saja kau melepaskan diri dari dekapannya, hal yang menjadi bagian dari koreografi.

“Aku harus segera pulang. Thank you for the dance” ucapmu seraya menekukkan sedikit lutut kakimu untuk memberi hormat, hal yang entah kenapa reflek kau lakukan, padahal tak seperti itu pada Zayne dan Rafayel setelah kalian berdansa tadi.

“Let me take you home.”

“Nope. Thank you.. aku datang bersama Zayne tadi, dan aku tidak ingin menjadi orang yang tidak sopan.”

“Oh.. oke, baiklah. Hati-hati, sampai bertemu besok di UNICORN.”

Deru laju mobil sport hitam milik Zayne, nyatanya tidak cukup membuatmu bergeming, hingga kau tetap pada posisi dudukmu dengan menyandarkan siku kanan pada jendela, dan ibu jari yang kukunya sedang kau gigiti dengan tanpa sadar, khas aktifitas yang biasa kau lakukan saat sedang fokus berpikir.

“Ada apa? Sejak berdansa dengan rekanmu tadi, kau nampak tidak ceria seperti sebelumnya?”

“Hm? Oh gak, gak ada apa-apa kok” singkat saja, namun hal itu sudah cukup menjadi pertanda bagi pria jangkung tadi untuk tidak lagi membuka suara, sebelum gadis di sampingnya yang memulai terlebih dulu.

Memang benar adanya saat ini kau sedang berpikir keras, bukan karena kau meragukan bahwa Xavier adalah Lumiere, namun justru sebaliknya. Karena kini kau yakin bahwa Xavier adalah Lumiere.

Dari segala apa yang ia sempat ceritakan panjang lebar tadi, kau tahu bahwa rekanmu itu peduli padamu, dan kau bersyukur akan hal itu. Namun satu hal yang menganggu pikiranmu.

Tidak pernah barang sekalipun kau ceritakan tentang detail bagaimana penampilanmu saat itu. Kaupun bahkan lupa tentang apa warna pakaianmu hingga pada saat kau mendengar ia menyebutkan ‘gaun putih’ tadi.

Xavier adalah Lumierre.

Mengetahui hal tersebut bukannya semakin lega, namun kau justru semakin merasa gelisah. Karena perlahan kau mulai mengingat semuanya.

Berikut juga dengan janji kalian berdua.

Bukan..

Bukan hanya dari empat belas tahun lalu.

Namun entahlah, yang pasti itu terasa sangat lama.

Dua ratus empat belas tahun, sayang.

Aku sudah menunggu kesempatan untuk kembali menemukanmu selama itu
Janji yang telah kita ikrarkan sebelum engkau tak lagi membuka kedua matamu
Kini seolah sudah tinggal menunggu hari dimana kau akan kembali dalam rengkuhanku

Namun kusadar tak akan semudah itu
Bersamamu kini ada beberapa jiwa yang juga menginginkanmu
Sialnya kurasakan rindu ini semakin menggebu
Dan kau bahkan tak sedikitpun memihak pada netraku yang biru

Duhai ratuku,
Izinkan aku untuk tetap memenuhi janjku
Menjagamu hingga giliran tertutup mataku
Melindungimu adalah tanggung jawabku
Maka aku akan disisimu, hingga hari dimana kau telah menemukan cinta sejatimu.

Your Loyal Knight,

Lumiere.