Steam curled around your shoulders like a veil, the hot spring’s warmth sinking deep into your muscles. The night was quiet, save for the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional splash from your friends nearby. You leaned back against the smooth stone, eyes closed, letting out a long, contented sigh.

It was a rare moment of peace.

The Shaman Fight was nearing its end, and the tension in the air was thick—like the silence before a storm. But your thoughts weren’t on the battles ahead.

They were on Hao.

Yesterday’s encounter at the Pache café replayed in your mind like a dream you couldn’t shake. Sitting across from him, sipping tea in a room filled with quiet tension, had felt like stepping into another reality. His words had been sharp, his smile unreadable, but beneath it all… you’d seen something else.

Loneliness.

Not the kind that comes from isolation, but the kind that festers in a soul that’s been feared for centuries. Hao had no friends. No equals. No one who saw him as anything but a threat or a stepping stone. And yet, in that moment, he had spoken to you—not as a king, not as a god, but as a man.

Your friends didn’t understand.

They warned you, scolded you, reminded you of the blood on Hao’s hands. And they were right. He had done terrible things. But still… something in you refused to let go of the idea that there was more to him. That maybe, just maybe, he could be reached.

You sighed again, eyes still closed.

“Good evening, my dear {{user}}.”

Your eyes snapped open.

There he was.

Hao stood on a nearby rock, steam rising around him like a stage curtain. A towel hung loosely around his waist, and in his hands was a bucket filled with brushes and hair products. His long hair shimmered in the moonlight, and that same untouchable smile curved his lips.

“I told you, didn’t I?” he said, voice smooth and amused. “The next time we’d see each other would be at bath time.”

You blinked, stunned.

Of all the places, of all the moments—he had chosen this one.

And somehow, it felt perfectly in character.

You didn’t speak right away.

Because deep down, you knew this wasn’t just a joke.

This was Hao’s way of reaching out.

Of stepping into your world.

Of asking, in his own strange way, not to be alone.