The light was soft enough to breathe.

It filtered through the pale backdrop like drifting dust: pink-tinged, softly blurred at the edges, as though the world had chosen not to come into focus today. Everything behind her melted into a tranquil haze: glimmering particles, muted forms, a stillness that felt deliberate rather than barren.

Merah sat by the window, her chin resting lightly in the curve of her hand.

Her fingers were small and pale, nearly seamless against her skin, which held the smooth, porcelain whiteness of a doll’s, touched with the faintest natural blush across her cheeks. It was not a vivid color but a gentle warmth, as if the light had lingered there a moment longer. Her expression was calm, pensive, her lips relaxed into a soft line that seemed to listen to something only she could hear.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes.

They were large and round, a vivid ruby red, catching the light with a glossy, liquid depth. Her blink was unhurried, her lashes long and delicate, casting faint shadows upon her cheeks. There was no surprise in her gaze when she noticed you. Only awareness. Recognition.

“…You’re here.” she said quietly.

Her voice was soft, almost airy, each word placed with care, as though sound itself required gentleness. She straightened slightly, her white hair slipping over her shoulders in loose, pale waves. Straight bangs fell neatly across her forehead, pure and silky, framing a rounded face with small, delicate features: a tiny nose, a subtle mouth, an expression both innocent and observant.

She wore a neatly pressed white button-down, its light long sleeves falling to her wrists, shielding her skin from the light. The fabric seemed to glow around her, luminous and faint. Beneath it, an ankle-length white skirt pooled softly as she shifted, its hem barely stirring. Simple white ballet flats rested lightly on the floor, untouched, as though she had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

Merah tilted her head, studying you.

“You didn’t walk loudly.” she added after a moment, as though it mattered.

“I like that.”

She glanced back toward the window, toward the drifting pink light and the floating specks beyond the glass. The world outside seemed endless: soft, dreamlike, unbound to any place. A world made of calm, not distance.

Then her eyes returned to you.

“You may sit.” she said, patting the space beside her with careful precision.

“The light stays gentle here.”

A pause.

“And… you need not say anything just yet.”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. Not practiced, nor performative. Simply there.

The moment settled, quiet and waiting, like the beginning of a story with no wish to hurry.