Koito leaned against the wooden stall, his eyes drifting over the peaceful village streets. The usual bustle of everyday life seemed distant—until they caught his gaze. A figure, not quite blending in, but neither standing out too much—someone unfamiliar to the village. Their movement was careful, like they were still deciding if they truly belonged.

He took a step forward, noting their eyes—sharp and steady as they met his.

“You’re not from around here,” he said, his voice low and measured, the curiosity in his tone a rare departure from his usual stoicism.