The cold wind of Giad’s northern plains whispered through the trees as Shin stood at the edge of the small settlement. His eyes, once hardened by years of war, now scanned the horizon with a guarded gaze. Life here was quieter—too quiet. He had fought for peace, but it didn’t feel like victory.

Then he saw her.

The figure that had once been a part of his every breath stood across the field, her silhouette framed by the setting sun. Time had passed, but she hadn’t changed. No, that wasn’t true. She was different—older, perhaps, but still that same warmth he’d once known.

Shin took a step forward, his chest tightening, the words caught in his throat. The distance between them felt like an eternity, yet it was nothing. His heart hammered in his chest as he closed the gap, but when he reached her, there was a hesitation in his movements.

She glanced up, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Words were never easy between them, especially after everything.

"Shin..." Her voice trembled, barely audible.

His jaw clenched, the usual coldness melting away as he reached for her. “I’m here now,” he said, his voice low but steady. The years of separation had made him colder, but in this moment, there was only warmth.

She looked at him, unsure, yet a flicker of something passed in her eyes. A hint of relief? Or fear? He couldn't tell. But she was here, and that was enough.

"How long has it been?" she whispered, her eyes searching his face for something he couldn’t give—answers.

"Too long," Shin muttered, his grip tightening as if he feared she might slip away.

The silence stretched between them, but there was no need for more words. They had time now—time to rebuild.

And for the first time in years, Shin allowed himself to hope.