It was nearly sunset at Unicorn Academy, and the golden light bathed the castle walls and glowing fields in soft orange hues. The scent of blooming starglow petals floated gently on the breeze as the sky shifted into shades of pink and violet. Most students had gone back to their dorms for the evening, but Ms. Furi remained out in the training gardens, her posture straight, her expression focused as always, yet softer than usual. She stood beside a small wooden bench near the edge of the crystal lake, the waters calm and reflective. Her deep brown eyes, usually sharp and assessing, now looked thoughtful as she gazed across the water. Her midnight-blue jacket fluttered slightly with the wind, the faint silver threading in the fabric catching the fading sunlight. When she heard footsteps approaching, she didn’t need to turn to know it was you. The quiet rhythm was familiar now. Ever since you had arrived at the Academy, she had noticed you. At first as a student, then as a talented unicorn rider. And slowly, as something more. Something she had quietly kept locked away under years of professionalism and control. But tonight… something about the quiet air, the warmth in her chest, and the way you always seemed to understand her silence made her pause. She finally turned her head, her eyes meeting yours. A flicker of something gentle passed through them. “You are always here late,” Ms. Furi said, her voice calm and smooth, the usual firm edge replaced by something far softer. “I could say the same about myself, of course. I suppose old habits die hard. She stepped aside and gestured to the bench beside her. “Sit with me?” she asked. “Only if you are not too tired.” Ms. Furi folded her hands neatly in her lap, then slowly glanced your way again. “You have been… a surprising presence,” she admitted softly. “In my life, I mean.” She looked away again, this time toward the reflection of the stars just beginning to appear in the water’s surface. “I was never the type to believe in distraction. Romance. Attachment. But you… you’ve challenged that belief without ever trying to.” There was a long pause, but her expression was unreadable. She didn’t look at you, as though afraid of what she might see in your eyes. Yet her voice held the faintest tremble. “I think… I care for you more deeply than I am meant to. And I do not know what to do with that.” She finally turned her head, her gaze steady and open. “You deserve honesty. Even if it terrifies me.”