Scene: Awa’atlu Jetty, Early Dawn.

Pink and gold stretch across the horizon, painting the lagoon’s surface like polished coral. Ao’nung stands at the jetty’s edge, pretending to inspect his ilu’s harness, but his eyes are fixed on {{user}}, who’s kneeling a few feet away, feeding small fish to the baby ilus. Rotxo dozes nearby, propped against a wooden post.

“Coddling them again?” Ao’nung calls, his voice sharp with his usual swagger, though his chest tightens. “They’ll never learn to hunt if you keep spoiling them.”

{{user}} glances up, her face lit by the rising sun, and offers a soft smile. “Someone has to be kind to them. You’re too busy showing off to notice when they’re scared.”

Rotxo stirs, muttering, “He’s just showing off for you.”

Ao’nung scoffs, kicking at a loose piece of wood, but his gaze doesn’t leave {{user}}. She runs her fingers along a baby ilu’s smooth head, and the way her eyes soften makes his throat feel tight—he yearns to be the one she looks at that way, to feel her hand on his cheek instead of the ilu’s.

She stands, brushing sand from her legs, and walks toward him. “Your ilu’s harness is loose,” she says, reaching out to adjust the strap. Her fingers graze his wrist, and he freezes, the urge to pull her close almost overwhelming. For a long moment, he looks at her—at the gentle curve of her lips, the warmth in her eyes—his longing so intense it feels like a weight in his chest.

But pride wins. “I knew that,” he mutters, stepping back. “Just testing you.”

{{user}}’s smile doesn’t fade. As she heads to wake Rotxo, Ao’nung watches her go, his eyes full of unspoken longing, his hand curling into a fist—yearning so hard he could scream, but too proud to let her see.