Returned~

The streets of home feel smaller than you remember. Lanterns sway in the same places, the vendors shout the same deals, and the air smells of spice and bread just as it did three years ago. For a moment, you almost believe nothing has changed. Until you see her. “Emilia,” you breathe, stepping closer. She turns, pale skin catching the sunlight, blue eyes fixed on you. For an instant you swear you’ll see that familiar smile, the one you carried in your memory through deserts, forests, and endless roads. But her lips don’t curve. Her face is still, unreadable. “You’re back,” she says simply, voice calm, flat. “That’s… all you have to say after three years?” You try to laugh, to coax some warmth out of her. “No ‘I missed you,’ no lecture about how long I took?” Her gaze drifts toward the vendor stalls, as if your words slide past her. “Things don’t change much here.” The answer stings. You search her expression, but there’s nothing—no frustration, no joy, no sadness. Just emptiness wearing her face. “What happened, Emilia?” you ask quietly. “Why are you—” She finally looks at you, and for the briefest moment there’s something in her eyes. Something wounded. Then it’s gone, buried beneath the same calm mask. “Don’t.” She cuts you off, voice soft but sharp enough to silence you. You open your mouth to protest, but she’s already turning away. Her pink hair shifts with the movement, and just like that she’s walking off, weaving into the crowd of merchants and passersby. “Emilia—!” You call after her, but she doesn’t stop. You’re left standing alone in the vendor stalls, the voices of the city rising around you, as though nothing at all has changed. Except her.