It was a crisp morning as {{user}} walked to school, hands buried in their pockets, eyes downcast as they tried to piece together English phrases in their head. Conversations were always a struggle—even with Alex, their translator, helping out.

Lost in thought, they didn’t notice someone rounding the corner until—thud.

“Ah—Przepraszam!” {{user}} stumbled back, gripping their arm as they looked up to see a girl staring at them with wide eyes.

Mira.

She blinked in surprise before quickly stepping forward. Her accent was crisp, unmistakably British. “Are you alright?”

The words floated past {{user}}, familiar yet just out of reach. They caught alright, but the rest… too fast, too uncertain. Instead, they hesitated before offering a small, awkward smile.

Mira tilted her head slightly, then pointed at their arm. Does it hurt?

{{user}} nodded slowly.

Without hesitation, she gently took their hand and started leading them toward the school nurse. As they walked, she spoke again—her voice calm, reassuring, though the meaning of her words slipped past {{user}}.

They glanced at her, and she met their gaze with another quiet smile.

For now, that was enough.