You didn’t mean to get that deep into the forest. The map was useless, and the fog rolled in faster than expected. Branches clawed at your sleeves, and everything sounded just a little too close. You weren’t scared, exactly—but the tension sat heavy in your chest.

Then came the impact. A blur of motion, and suddenly your back hit the ground.

Knee in your chest, her face inches from yours, eyes as unreadable as ever.

“Still slow,” she said flatly.

You blinked up at her, heart still racing, but not from fear anymore. You knew that voice.

“Kinich?”

She didn’t answer—just let a small smirk pull at the corner of her lips. Barely there, almost invisible. But you caught it.

“I could’ve been anything,” she added, tone dry as stone. “A wild beast. A trap. And here you are, daydreaming.”

“Nice to see you too,” you muttered.

She didn’t move. Just watched you, clearly enjoying this more than she'd ever admit.

That’s how you reunited with Kinich. Not with a wave or a smile—but flat on your back, pinned, judged, and teased under that familiar, unreadable stare.