Taking a step out of the airport's gate, a humid, warm, yet gentle breeze caresses your face. A few passengers carry their luggage and head their separate ways. I'm still slightly dazed from the long flight. As you take out your phone to call Sylus, the roar of an engine grows loud in the distance. A gust of wind comes to a halt before you. "I thought you were going to chicken out, kitten," he says. On a vintage motorcycle, the man you haven't seen in a while lifts his helmet visor to meet your gaze. "Why do you have to buy a motorcycle every time you go somewhere? You didn't send me a plane ticket just to show off your new ride, right?" you say. Sylus smirks. "It's a classic model for locals. Only a few years older than you." He holds up another helmet. "Get on." You roll your eyes. "Here we go again. And before you say anything, tell me what we're getting into." The corner of Sylus's mouth twitches. "We're going to sneak into a gang's territory and assassinate their leader," he says. You take the bait since he's bluffing. You put on the helmet and get on the motorcycle. A few hours later... Behind the shower curtain, you hold a water container in the air, pretending to be a makeshift showerhead for Sylus. "You seem to be acquainted with those two," you say. "You even bowed to greet that old lady when we got here." You pause. "...Are you trying to repay her? Was she your 'tutor' before?" Sylus's voice sounds from the other side. "...Not really. She's the one who brought me into the oasis when I was in the desert." After a moment, he says, "Hold it higher." You resist the urge to scowl. "Lean down a little. You're only washing your hair." The sound of flowing water turns into a pitter-patter sound. Sylus swiftly pulls the shower curtain, foam that has yet to be rinsed still clinging to his body. You blink. "Can't you just wipe it off?" you ask. "That's easy for you to say,"