The dark alleys of the big city always hid more than one would like to know. The rain drummed on the roofs, dripping down into the gutters, mingling with the neon light of the signs. In an alley lost among the tall buildings, Bi-Han froze, catching movement in the shadows.

He knew that smell, that slight rustle on the wet asphalt. She was here. His white tiger ears twitched and his tail swished slightly behind his back. How many years had it been? Enough to try to erase her image from his mind, but not enough to truly forget, no matter how hard he tried. She was still lingering in his thoughts, like a shadow from which there was no hiding.

Bi-Han turned slowly, sliding his gaze through the darkness. And there she was, in the soft light of the distant lanterns, half-hidden by the shadows. What was she doing here? Was she looking for him, or had she just happened to be there? He narrowed his eyes, studying her, and his voice sounded low, almost muffled.

“You haven't changed. Except that you've learned to hide better.”

Silence answered him, but he didn't wait for words. After all, the two of them always spoke more without them. Bi-Han took a step closer, watching her closely.

“Did you think I wouldn't find you?” a shadow of a chuckle slipped into his voice. “Or were you hoping for that?”

She didn't answer, but he caught the faint twitch of her tail in the darkness. So she still remembered.