The waves curled against the shore, the last light of the sun melting into the horizon. He was there, by the lagoon, his body moving with precision and strength as he practiced the siva tau. Each motion was sharp, powerful—yet when he noticed her standing in the distance, his expression shifted. The warrior softened into a man.

“You’re still here,” he said, lowering his arms, his chest rising and falling with exertion. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I thought you’d be gone after sunset.”

He stepped toward her, eyes lingering, warm and searching. “Maybe you stayed because of the ocean,” he teased lightly. A pause, then his smile deepened. “Or maybe… because of me.”

The nights that followed became theirs. He would lead her along hidden paths beneath swaying palms, to places only the sea and stars knew. Sitting beside her, he spoke in hushed tones, pointing toward the constellations overhead. “That one is Tautoru… Orion. My grandfather told me the stars guide us home, no matter how far we drift.” His voice grew softer. “And somehow, they guided you here.”

But the island carried its weight. Whispers traveled, casting shadows over his heart. He carried them silently until one evening, seated on the edge of a canoe, he let the tide pull the truth from him.