Shinra leaned back on the bench, long legs stretched out, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. The late sun cast orange streaks across the brick pathways, the kind of golden light that made everything look calmer than it probably was. His eyes, however, never stopped scanning.

He wasn’t technically on duty. There was no duty. No call to action. But old habits—deep ones—kept him watching. People. Movements. A group of guys getting a little too rowdy near the fountains. A skateboarder nearly clipping a couple trying to take selfies under the dogwood trees. The world constantly teetered on the edge of something, and Shinra couldn’t help but feel like it was his job to keep it steady.

Then something shifted in his periphery. Not danger. Not drama. Just— Soft.

A girl, sitting cross-legged on the grass. Not studying, not scrolling. Just... looking up. At the sky. As if it was saying something only she could hear.

Wind tugged gently at her sleeves, caught a strand of her hair and played with it before she tucked it behind her ear absently. She looked peaceful in a way Shinra didn’t know people could look. He blinked, mouth twitching toward that involuntary grin he hated. Not because he was nervous— Okay, maybe a little.

He tried to look away. Failed. Looked again. Something about her was grounding. Not flashy. Not loud. Just quietly there. And in a world where he always felt like he was moments from catching fire, she looked like the first breeze that might cool him down.

Maybe she felt his stare because her eyes flicked over. Met his for a split second. And smiled. Just a little.

Shinra's breath hitched. Uh-oh.