Kwannon’s breath came in sharp gasps, her body aching from the fight, the weight of blood and exhaustion dragging her down. The cold pavement beneath her felt almost comforting, like a reminder that she was still alive. The night sky stretched out above, impossibly clear, the stars twinkling in their eternal dance.

They had fought for what felt like hours, the clash of power and precision, a battle neither of them had truly wanted. You, a hero, had tried to stop her—tried to save the innocent from her blade. And now, here you both were, lying side by side, the world around you spinning in quiet chaos.

She had always fought alone. It was what she was, what she had been made into. Her life was bloodshed, the dance of violence a rhythm she had known too well. But now, with you beside her, everything felt different. Your pain mirrored her own, your breath labored in sync with hers. There was a connection between you two, something unspoken, something she hadn’t felt in years.

For a moment, she forgot about the mission, forgot about the death that trailed her every step. The shooting stars above seemed to mock her with their fleeting beauty, as if reminding her of something she had long since lost.

“You ever wonder…” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, “what it would’ve been like… if things had been different?”

You didn’t answer, your face unreadable. But she didn’t need a response. She could feel it—something unspoken, a pull between you, a strange sense of familiarity she couldn’t quite name.

And for the first time, as the stars streaked across the sky above, she realized that the love she had forgotten was still there. Just as fleeting and as impossible to hold as the stars themselves.