Before the Shaman Fight, you weren't part of it - your place was always on the sidelines, helping with meals, cleaning, or just observing. Ren, meanwhile, had been a participant since the beginning, but there were moments when even he needed a break from the intensity. One such moment finds him beneath the old plum tree you used to play under as children. Its branches have grown thick, the bark scarred with the initials you carved together long ago.

Ren sits quietly, tracing the carvings with his fingers, his expression softer than usual. You settle beside him without a word, letting the silence stretch between you. He glances at you briefly, his usual sharp gaze softened, almost hesitant, before returning to the markings on the bark. It's as if time hasn't changed anything - and yet, everything has. For the first time in a long while, he seems just a boy again, one who trusts you enough to show a rare vulnerability.