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Gone With the Wind

Synopsis: From the moment you first saw him, you’re convinced Sylus would be your salvation in this life. Little do you know, in the end, you’re the one who finally gives him freedom. He rests in the wind. You are buried by snow.

Warning(s):TW!! Mentions of depression and suicide. If you are sensitive towards the aforementioned topics, maybe sit this one out (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ). Angst, Slow burn, Doomed romance, tragedy. Major character death!! (x3). Seriously. ANGST. HURT. No comfort. Non-cannonical universe, Mephisto is human whoops. GRAB SOME TISSUES!

30.1k words

A/N: I don't say this enough but thank you to everyone who has the patience to read through my really long works! It makes the writing process all worth it <3 Anyhow, it's the end of March, which means I need to honor one of my top devastating animes of all time: Your Lie in April!! This is loosely inspired by Your Lie In April and Forest of Fireflies (but the worst of both worlds). I swear I'm only gonna be working on fluff after this for a while; I cried too many times writing the ending. As always, happy reading and enjoy!

1. You lean against the old wallpaper as Mrs. Zhou, your grandma's domestic helper, takes your bags. "Thanks for coming back to visit. I know this place is shabby and far, but your grandma is very happy to see you. As you know, her health these days..." You nod, stopping her from saying more. "She's still taking a nap, isn't she? I'll walk around a little bit. Be back for dinner." Mrs. Zhou nods, instructing you, "Take the main road. Turn back as soon as it gets dark." "Okay," you reply, slinging your camera around your neck.

You head out, choosing the opposite direction your cab had came from, slowly walking along the cement road. The road seems to lead to the top of the mountain; it's all uphill, but fortunately, the dense foliage and cool breeze makes the walk less tiring. The scenery of the mountain village is beautiful, but it's not quite enough to make you stop and enjoy the view. You don't reach for the camera around your neck. As you notice the sun slowly beginning to set, you decide to turn around after the next bend.

But after passing the bend, you don't turn around. You stop, casually glancing up in the fleeting moment.

Before you lies a clearing off the edge of a cliff, twilight streaming through the rolling, thick clouds, forming beams of light. A figure stands there, tall and slender, like a pine tree growing on the cliff's edge. The pine trees on the cliff, standing year-round, heir branches and leaves shaped by the will of the breeze, seem destined to one day become nothing more than the wind itself. That person seems to be just like that as well; like someone who would become the wind.

You, lost in thought for a moment, raise your camera.

You press the shutter, and in that instant, the person in the lens turns their head, a cold gaze piercing through the twilight and mountain wind, meeting your eyes. Your heart feels like its been struck by a lightning bolt. You feel a momentary stiffness in your body, and you stammer as you lower the camera.

Without the filter of the lens, the coldness in that gaze is even more pronounced.

"Did you get my permission to take the picture?" His voice is icy cold. “Sorry," you say. “I’ll delete it now.” After doing so, you walk towards him, showing him the camera. “It’s deleted.”

You're only about a meter apart when the man reaches out and takes the camera from you, checking if you've actually done so. You don't mind. It was your fault at first. He looks down at the camera. You look at him.

The person before you seems to be around your age, maybe just a little older, exuding the chill of the early spring breeze. The light filtering through the clouds bath him, giving him an unreal, almost ethereal quality, especially since you've met in this place. It's as if he shouldn’t exist in the first place, a god who only appears in the depths of the clouds, among these mountains and rivers.

You're enraptured by his face when you suddenly notice a subtle change in his expression: He raises an eyebrow slightly. You quickly realize he must have saw something on your camera, like your selfies.

You snatch the camera back and, sure enough, the album is turned to a set of deliberately silly faces. You took those on a whim, wanting to see what your face, often described as icy, would look like with those expressions. You haven't deleted them yet, too lazy to do so, not expecting anyone else to see them.

“Who gave you permission to look through my things?” You ask with an annoyed look. The boy doesn't react much, replying lightly, “We're even now.” He turns away indifferently, continuing to look at the horizon.

Fine. It's even. You compose yourself and follow his gaze. It's then that you realize you could actually see the sea from here.

At that moment, the setting sun dips below the horizon, bathing the sea in a golden hue. The shimmering waves, like countless stars falling into the depths, blend seamlessly with the twilight. This is the perfect spot to watch the sunset. The scene before you is certainly worthy of a photograph, but you don't raise your camera again. Instead, you take a step towards the edge of the cliff and look down. The cliff is steep; you need to walk to the very edge to see the top. You look at the bottom with a thoughtful expression.

After a while, you say, "This is a good place to jump off."

The boy next to you isn't surprised by your comment; even humming in agreement. You, however, are quite surprised by his reaction. A normal person wouldn't react this way to such a remark.

You turn to look at him. He also glances at you. Your gazes meet in the evening breeze, neither flinching nor hesitant.

This eye contact lasts a long time, but neither of you show any real emotion in your eyes. You don't look away; you simply didn't want to look away. Looking into his eyes, an indescribable feeling rises in your heart. If you had to describe it, it's like sinking into the sea, having your breath taken away, but not suffocating. You feel your body floating, then sinking deeper and deeper, reaching the deepest point, where you see another deep blue sea.

It's something you've never seen before, so you wanted to keep looking.

Unfortunately, he doesn't intend for you to keep looking. He looks away, glancing at the sun completely below the horizon, and says calmly, "It's getting dark. Aren't you going back?" "Yes," you say, but you don't move. Instead, you ask him, "What about you?" "Yes." Unlike you, he turns around as soon as he opens his mouth. He has long legs, and in a few strides, is already back on the concrete road, turning to go down the mountain. You follow, going in the same direction.

Before long, you catch a glimpse of your grandma's little house from the corner of your eyes. You watch the person before you keep walking ahead. You contemplate for a moment before stopping.

"Hey," you call out. He stops and turns around. He doesn't ask what you're calling him for, just quietly looking at you. You walk a few steps closer and ask, "What's your name?" His eyes are half-lidded, meeting your direct gaze, his expression calm and indifferent. "Sylus Qin."

Sylus...

You silently repeat the name in your head. It fits, you decide. "The first time I saw you, I thought you were like the wind." You say, tone unwavering as if stating a fact. Sylus disagrees, coldly replying, "I don't think so." You don't mind his unfriendly remark; instead, a slight smile appears on your lips.

You find him amusing.

"What's wrong with being like the wind? You seem quite resistant to the idea." "It's not that it's bad. I'm just not like it," he says. "Then what are you like?" You press again. "I don't know," he replies, "I haven't thought about it." You look at him, a smile appearing in your usually calm, lake-like eyes. For the first time in years, you feel a desire to understand someone. You want to see what this man named Sylus is like.

“Will we meet again?” You ask. The evening breeze carries your voice to his ears, accompanied by the rustling of leaves.

Sylus looks at you. You stand a few feet above him on a not-so-steep slope, backlit, your hair blurred by light and shadow. Your face is hazy, like distant mountains at dusk. “Yes." You give him a faint smile.

You don't exchange any more words that night. The two of you continue walking. Sylus doesn't stop when you reach your doorstep, and you don't call out to him again either. Afterall, you aren't close. But you have a feeling you'll meet again anyway.

Back home, you open your camera, press a few buttons, and recover the photo that was deleted earlier. You hadn't even properly looked at the photo before it was gone. Now, looking at the person in the photo, those eyes, your heart is struck again.

You have quite a few interests, but photography was never one of them. You simply used it as a recording device for your everyday life, so you don't pay close attention to things like composition or lighting. But this photo before you, in terms of composition, lighting, and atmosphere, is objectively excellent- enough to be breathtaking.

A cliff, a setting sun, a sea of clouds with twilight overflowing, and a person standing in the center of the light like a god. The god turns his head through the long wind to meet your gaze. Even looking into those eyes through the photograph, you can feel the wind suddenly stop, and the mountains and seas falling silent.

You recall the distance between yourself and Sylus at the time; it was only a few meters, yet he gives off an extremely distant feeling in the photo. Perhaps it is his aloofness, like a cold moon hanging in the distant sky. Unlike many boys your age who try to feign profundity and indifference, his coldness seems to emanate from his very bones.

There's a saying: People are always attracted to those who are completely opposite to themselves, but those who are extremely similar to themselves are even more captivating. It's a saying about love. You don't think you've fallen in love with Sylus Qin at first sight, but you can't deny that you consider him very attractive. You've never felt this level of intense curiosity about anyone before. He is the first.

Before, you've always felt that life was meaningless. You were detached and uninterested in the world. Despite having just started college, you have no expectations for the future. Now, you finally have something to look forward to: Your second encounter with Sylus.

2. After dinner, you push your grandmother out in her wheelchair for a short walk.

Whenever the sun is away, the mountains are exceptionally cool. Every breath of air feels like it had been filtered through snowmelt soaked in bamboo leaves—moist, cool, and refreshing. There are four roads in front of your grandmother's house. One leads to the cliff where you met Sylus, but it's all uphill. Another leads to the town, and you already saw the scenery along that route. You don't where the other two led, so you let your grandma choose: the flatter one it is.

This road isn't very steep, but it's still built on the hillside. One side is mountain, and the other a cliff. The view is extremely wide, showing the stream and dense forest below, and the distant, rolling mountain range. The scenery before you is undoubtedly beautiful, but you're somewhat distracted. You push your grandma forward slowly as she occasionally points out places to tell you their names and stories that had happened there.

"Do you see that bridge?" "Yes." "There used to be only a single plank of wood there. I walked on it since I was little and never fell. But the day I met your grandfather, I fell into the river. Your grandfather pulled me out, and then he built a bridge there." You aren't particularly interested in these old-fashioned love stories. "I see."

Your grandma senses your nonchalance and sighs softly. Ever since the wanderer accident, your personality really hasn't changed at all. You've been indifferent to everything and uninterested in anything.

"Y/N," your grandma who had been recounting your past throughout the walk, suddenly asks, "You haven't dated anyone yet, your second semester of freshman year?" "No," you reply simply. "Why don't you try finding someone?"

You grandma had always believed that if you wanted to, there would be a line of men willing to be your boyfriend stretching all the way to France. She's certain you didn't have a lack of suitors. "Too lazy," you grunt. Sure enough. She sighs again, then says gently, "Being in love is wonderful and interesting thing."

"Is that so?" You raise your chin slightly, but its unclear whether you were listening to her at all. Your eyes look into the distance, unfocused. Your grandma gently pats the back of your hand, deciding to offer one last word of advice: "Listen to Granny, give it a try. Fall in love a few times while you're young; it won't hurt."

You're silent for a while, before asking, "Does everyone have to fall in love in this life?" "There's nothing you absolutely have to do in this life." Your grandma follows your gaze, "But I've always believed that we should experience life to the fullest, with passion." "What we're passionate about is usually what we love, and love can be an object, an process, or even a person. If you find it hard to find something to love, then perhaps..." She smiles, as if thinking of something, "try to love someone."

As she speaks, your grandma turns her head, lowering her gaze to her wrinkled hand on the back of your own, softly saying, "Granny hopes you will do so. In this life, as long as you have and pursue something you love, no matter the outcome, it's worth it."

3. You walk around town listlessly. There's not much to do around here, if you're being honest. You don't expect to spend your time here productively, mostly to accompany your grandma before her health declines further.

As much as you're disinterested in the world around you, your grandma is someone you cared deeply about.

10 years ago, your entire family except for yourself and grandma was wiped out by the Chronorift disaster. While you survived, the doctors noted a disruption in your bones, but nothing they could quite pinpoint for sure. All you understood was that your body was slowly weakening, your bone marrow gradually becoming unable to sustain you. They couldn't give you an exact diagnosis, but it was undisputed that you wouldn't live a full lifetime.

The last doctor's visit you had before coming back to visit your grandma, they told you at the rate your body was declining, you had at most 10 years left.

You didn't really care. Your life as you knew it ended the day your house and everyone else in it was wiped out. You stayed in school in Linkon City because you knew it was what your parents would've wanted. You did judo because it was your brother's favorite sport. You stayed alive simply because there was still someone in the world that held onto you: your grandma, so you made sure to visit her every winter and summer break without fail.

Other than that, you've never tried, or allowed yourself to get too attached to this world. You knew you were going to die anyways. There was no point, right?

You make your way to the older, mostly empty part of town. Abandoned houses line the stone-paved road. You wonder who used to live in these.

Turning a corner, you hear muffled grunts coming from behind a crumbling brick wall. Cautious, you get into a defensive posture as you get closer.

A trio of teenagers kick at a younger boy on the ground. One of them spits into his figure as he mocks, "where's your big, bad, demon to protect you now?" You frown, stepping into their line of vision.

"Hey," you call out, your voice monotonous, but clear enough to get their attention. "What's going on?"

The group turns to look at you, freezing for only a second before realizing a girl is not a threat.

"You're an outsider, so stay out of this." The tallest one snarls.

You simply stare at them with your dull eyes until one by one, they withdraw their gaze, clearly uncomfortable at your unsettling attitude.

"Let's go," the first speaks up again, giving the boy on the ground one last kick before leaving. You raise an eyebrow. He purposefully shoves your shoulder as he passes you. In the spur of the moment, you grab his arm and watch him eat a faceful of dirt.

"You!" he draws his arms back as he gets up, about to throw a punch. You raise your own fists, not deliberately challenging him, but steadfast enough to signal that you weren't going down easy.

He gives you a hard look before scoffing, "I don't hit girls, so I'm sparing you this once. I better not see you in my face again, or you'll get the burnt of it."

You watch as the possy of bullies leave, then make your way over the boy still on the ground. He sits up shakily, as if to check that they're gone. "You good?" you ask airily, pulling him to his feet. "Yes!" he quickly replies, "Thank you, I'm Mephisto! And you are..."

Your eyebrows raise at the unique name. It seems that there are more interesting people in this village than you originally assumed. "Y/N," you supply, turning around now that your job here is done. "Wait!" He calls, hurriedly limping next to you. "You were really cool just now! Did you train in martial arts before?" "Judo" you say. "I haven't seen you around before, whatcha doing in the mountains?" "On uni break, visiting my grandma." "Wow, that's amazing! I'll be graduating soon and heading to university as well!"

You have to admit that you're a little shocked. He seems quite a bit younger than you. His eager eyes remind you of a curious crow.

"Are all of the kids around here as talkative as you?" You already know one person who isn't: Sylus. Mephisto chuckles bashfully, "No, not really! I'm just thankful that you saved me!" A cheerful voice fills the air around you as you walk back to the village center.

4. Mephisto waves enthusiastically as he escorts you back to your grandma's house, insisting it was the "gentlemanly" thing to do after you saved him. Actually, he's just excited to have another human to talk to.

He'd have to take a long detour back home now. His leg is actually completely fine, but if he went the direct route and you saw him going up the stairs with no issues at all, you'd see through his intentions right away.

After walking for a while, a large villa comes into view. Mephisto sighs, pausing for a moment before crossing a long bridge that leads to the gilded front gates. Upon reaching the entrance, he calls out loudly, "Boss? Boss! Sylus!"

A moment later, a figure appears in front of the second-floor French windows.

Sylus has superhuman eyesight, immediately noticing the injury on Mephisto's forehead even from up there. He turns to go downstairs to open the door.

"Who did this?" is the first thing out of his mouth. Mephisto answers truthfully, "Some brats from the N109 gang." He adds quickly, "Don't bother getting back at them, I won't be running into them for much longer." Sylus hums in agreement, indicating for Mesphisto to come in, "let's get you patched up."

The wound on Mephisto's head wasn't small. Sylus brings out the first-aid kit to bandage it for him, sighing, "you humans get hurt so easily." Mephisto perks up, "Sylus, I was going to get beaten up even worse today, but someone I never saw before helped me! Guess who?" "Y/N" Mephisto is stunned for a few seconds. "How do you know her full name?" "I already met her a few days ago. We got to know each other somewhat."

"Oh..." Mephisto lowers his head, seemingly lost in thought. After a while, he looks up and smiles at Sylus, saying, "I think she's a lot like you, Boss! She looks cold on the outside, but is actually a very nice person." Sylus doesn't react to his comment, only asking, "how did she help you?"

Mephisto gets excited. "She's amazing! When she saw me get beaten up, she challenged their leader to a one-on-one fight, promising to take me away if she won. Then she just did an over-the-shoulder throw and the big bully couldn't even get up!" Mephisto's eyes are shinning with admiration. "You didn't see her skills! Holy crap, it was so cool!" He's about to stand up and demonstrate, but Sylus presses him back down, putting the last strip of tape on him. "Alright."

"Boss, why aren't you surprised at all? An over-the-shoulder throw!" "She's from the city, it's normal for her to learn some form of martial arts or something." "True." Mephisto raises his hand to touch the gauze on his forehead, wincing for a second.

"Let's go, I'll give you a ride home." "Boss you have a car??" Mephisto exclaims in surprise. "I've never seen you drive before!" "I can't take it out of this mountain, what's the point?" Mephisto immediately shuts his mouth, following Sylus out.

The "ride" Sylus was referring to is an all matte black motorcycle, with minimal red trim "A motorcycle?" Mephisto looks at the tank of a motorcycle in front of him, its demeanor completely out of place in the rural mountains. "I thought it would be a truck."

Sylus smirks, "If it were a truck, you think those squirts from N109 would've had the chance to hurt me?"

5. White clouds drift across the sky, their reflections pale and soft, unable to hide the darker depths beneath. You arrive at the cliff long before sundown today. The path up the mountain twists through seven or eight bends before opening onto the precipice. You know it well already. You choose the pine tree near the edge and set up your easel there. The sea stretches endlessly in the distance, a quiet expanse of blue. You begin sketching it onto the canvas.

Somewhere along the path behind you, someone stops. Sylus. You don’t hear his footsteps, but you know he’s there, watching from afar. You turn around.

Across the distance, your eyes meet.

He starts toward you again, walking slowly, step by step. You don’t wait for him to reach your side. Turning back to your canvas, you continue painting.

“Are all city people so multitalented?” His voice sounds beside you—low, cool, but edged with a youthful tinge. You sit on a flat rock. The easel is heavy enough that you didn’t bother bringing a stool. Now Sylus stands next to you, tall enough that you would have to crane your neck just to see his face.

You decide not to.

“The multi-talented ones aren’t city people,” you say evenly. “It’s just me.” A chuckle escapes him. You glance up. You want to see what he looks like when he laughs.

“It seems,” he says, the corner of his mouth still lifted, “you can do more than just those two things.” A brief flicker of amusement passes through his eyes. His smile has the careless charm typical of boys his age—easy, a little roguish, unexpectedly striking. You watch him for a moment. “Two things?” “Judo and painting,” he says. “Aren’t those two?”

You pause, still looking at him. “Why does Mephisto tell you everything?” “Who else would he tell?” Sylus replies. You remember what your grandmother said: that Sylus is the only one willing to play with Mephisto.

Your gaze drifts away. You raise your brush and add the final stroke. “Finished?” he asks. “Yes.” “How long have you been here?” “About half an hour.” “You finished that quickly?” “Drawing the sea is easy.” He tilts his head slightly. “Then what’s difficult to draw?” “People.”

You look up at him again. “I want to draw another one.” He raises an eyebrow slightly, waiting. “Can you be my model?”

For a moment, Sylus says nothing. His long lashes cast faint shadows under his eyes, moving gently in the sea breeze as he looks down at you.

“Sure,” he says at last. “Stand over there.” You point to a nearby tree.

He walks over and leans against the trunk, posture loose and casual. Some people look like a painting just by standing still. You take a slow breath without realizing it. Then you lower your gaze and replace the drawing paper.

“Anything else?” he asks when you’re almost ready. You pause while fixing the paper, looking up to meet his eyes. “Look at me.” Your voice is cool and clear, like falling snow. “And keep looking at me.” The wind lifts strands of your hair across your forehead, half-covering your eyes.

Sylus watches you through them. In truth, he has been looking at you the entire time—but the moment you say those words, his gaze falters.

Cicadas cry in the trees. Leaves rustle. For two seconds, his focus drifts, your figure blurring before his eyes. Then it sharpens again. Beneath the chorus of cicadas and wind, another sound grows louder: A heartbeat. He doesn’t speak again. He simply follows your instructions: Looking at you, and continuing to look at you.

You paint for two hours. He watches you for two hours.

“Done.” You set the brush aside. Sylus straightens from the tree and walks over.

The painting is oil, but you’ve incorporated the loose spirit of ink wash. The pine trees and sky behind him are rendered with only a few strokes, more of a suggestion than detail. The portrait isn’t perfectly realistic, but it captures him unmistakably.

“Very well done,” he says. “Here.” You hand him the canvas. “Take it.” “Thanks.” His lips curl slightly. You asked him to model, yet somehow he’s the one thanking you.

“Let’s go,” he says, “Your family’s probably having dinner already. I’ll walk you home.” You glance toward the sun lowering toward the horizon and hum softly in agreement, packing away your paint box and easel. The easel looks heavy. “I’ll carry it,” Sylus offers. “No need.” You lift it easily. “You carry the painting. The paint isn’t dry.” He raises an eyebrow, amused. “Alright.”

You carry the easel while he walks beside you holding the painting. The evening breeze moves through his hair, tousling it like in the movies.

You recall your grandmother's words again: "Ten out of ten girls in this town like him." But judging from his expression, you don't recall ever seeing Sylus even be friendly with a girl before.

You're curious again. This time, however, you decide to ask directly. "Sylus, have you ever been in a relationship?" "No." Sylus' calm voice falls from above. "Why not? My grandmother said every girl here likes you. They're all so pretty. Are your standards that high?" "It's not that my standards are high, it's that I've never had that thought." He pauses for a second before suddenly stopping to look you in the eyes. "Hey. You know I can only play around with you, right?"

Something in the way he says those words make you think that his sentence might not just refer to you, but to everyone.

You guess it might be related to his background and experiences; perhaps this is the crux of all your curiosity about him. You don't intend to find out now, fearing that once the answer is revealed, you'll lose interest.

"Have you ever liked anyone?" You decide to change the subject. Sylus takes a moment to think about it this time. "No. And you?" It's his turn to ask you. "Have you ever liked anyone?"

His voice is low and slow, revealing no emotion, sounding almost like he cared, yet also as if he's just asking casually. Liking someone… Just then, you realize maybe you do like him a little, but you're more annoyed he stole your question. "No."

Sylus seems somewhat incredulous. A normal person of your age would definitely have someone they liked at some point, with even those a little less normal having felt some amount of attraction towards another person.

He is an exception though, of course.

“You've probably met many outstanding boys in the city, how come you don’t like any of them?” “There can be lots of people out there, but I’m not interested in any of them. Without interest, how can I like anyone?” You airily reply. “What kind of men would interest you?” he presses.

The mountain road is bumpy, as you don't dare be distracted while holding your easel. You halt in your step. The wind in your ears stop for a moment, and inertia causes the person behind you to lean forward. You feel his breath settle, brushing against the side of your neck.

Involuntarily, you tense and take a deep breath before turning around to meet his eyes.

“Someone like you.” Sylus' expression freezes. As if taken aback by your words, he pauses for a few seconds before asking, "How?" "You're interesting," you hesitate before adding, "you intrigue me." Sylus chuckles. "This is the first time I've heard someone describe me like that."

"Then listen carefully." You stare intently into his eyes, unwavering. Your surroundings are quiet, the wind gentle, the cicadas' chirping hidden deep in the shade of the trees.

Your words are crystal clear.

"Sylus Qin, in this utterly boring world, you are the only thing I am curious about."

He trembles slightly upon hearing this. This is the first time you see such a clear surge of emotion in his eyes, like a raging storm brewing there.

"So, Sylus," you speak up again, "For the remaining month or so, either you make me fall completely, or you keep me curious forever, okay?" You tilt your head slightly, like a cat. Sylus' eyes darken, his gaze fixed on you. "Okay," he says.

Strangely, the road back home feels shorter.

5. Halfway down the path, you get a call from your grandma. She asks if you’re already on your way back and says Mrs. Zhou is cooking tonight. Even before you reach the house, the smell of food drifts through the air.

At the doorway, you stop. Sylus stops too. “See you tomorrow.” You tilt your head slightly as you say it, your tone lifting at the end like a question. “See you tomorrow,” he replies. The same words. But his sound certain.

You smile as the evening wind lifts your hair.

Even after you step into the courtyard, the smile on your face lingers. Anticipating tomorrow feels… surprisingly nice. You realize this new feeling with a start.

This person before you makes your heart skip a beat so easily. It's highly unusual for someone like you, but perhaps it's because Sylus himself is not of the conventional kind either. He's special, mysterious, and a good person, you reason. Anyone would be easily moved. But it still doesn't fully account for how you possess an inexplicable attraction for him.

You think you may like him a little. At most, only a little. You haven't fallen for him yet.

This makes you quite intrigued. What if one day you really fall completely in love?

You've always wanted to know what it feels like to love someone, especially the kind of unwavering and intense love your grandmother had for your grandfather.

6. “Looks like my precious granddaughter is very happy today.” Your grandmother’s teasing voice greets you from ahead.

You look up and laugh openly.

She smiles too—warm, gentle, satisfied. It has been a long time since she has seen you smile like that. “Remember to smile more,” she says kindly. “At your age, your smiles are the most beautiful.”

You blink. She’s talking to you, but someone else comes to mind. Sylus. His smile really is handsome.

As for you—you’ve never tried to seem aloof. When something is interesting, you naturally smile. It’s just that nothing had truly amused you before.

“Let me see what you drew today.” You show her the seascape you held onto. “You went to the cliff,” she says immediately, recognizing the view. “You met Sylus there, didn’t you?” “Yes. Does he go there often?” “I think so.” She smiles faintly. “I first saw that boy there too. When I was young, I liked watching the sunset from that cliff. After I came back here, I went again a few times… and he was always there.”

She sighs softly. “The sunset there is beautiful,” she says. “But he shouldn't have to only watch it there”

You don’t quite understand what she means, the regret in her voice.

But you wonder, when you finally do understand... whether you’ll feel the same sadness because of him.

7. It becomes routine now, meeting Sylus at the mountainside, keeping each other company until sundown. You curse yourself for not checking the weather forecast, the quiet sound of thunder rumbling in the distance cutting your usual meeting short.

“We need to hurry. It might rain,” Sylus says, turning around to head back to the paved road. You don’t want to walk faster. “Even if we go faster, we won’t get much faster.” The hill is steep, only to become slippery if rain falls. “True.” “What do we do if it starts pouring?” you ask. “Let’s find shelter first. Rain here usually doesn’t last too long during the day.” “What if it keeps raining?” “If it keeps raining…” Sylus pauses, actually stops walking for a moment, to think. “Then we’ll just have to go back soaked.”

You roll your eyes, passing him on the road. But after only a few steps, you stop when Sylus calls your name from behind.

“Y/N.”

It isn’t as if no one has ever called you by your full name before. But when Sylus says it, your heart inexplicably skips a beat. Because of that subtle feeling, you pause for a moment before turning around. In the half second it takes you to turn, you hear a dull thud—like someone kicking the mountain laurel tree beside you.

Startled, you instinctively close your eyes. When you open them again, Sylus is standing beneath a tree. And the laurel blossoms begin falling like rain.

The two of you gaze at each other through the drifting white petals.

Time seems to slow down. Even the petals seem to fall more slowly, and through the gaps between them you clearly see the smile in his eyes. You see the curve of his lips. The slight arc of his eyes. Then he speaks, his voice already beautiful without lowering it:

“Before, this place was called once called Laurel Bend.”

You look at him, and suddenly your eyes burn—as if scorched by the fiercest midsummer sun.

It is midsummer. But the sky above is overcast.

Some powerful emotion slowly arises through your daze, steadily filling every corner of your heart. You think you will remember this moment for a very long time—

Petals drift down. The boy beneath the laurel tree laughs freely, like the wind.

In your illusion, time slows. But the real world never stops for anyone. Soon only a few petals drift from the breeze. Sylus notices the stunned look on your face, but he says nothing. He only looks at you, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Sylus.” You finally regain your senses and call out to him. “You’ve really never been in love?” “No.” “You're quite talented then.” Sylus doesn’t give you much of an reaction. “I probably won’t be in a relationship in this lifetime.”

You blink slowly, thinking for a moment, then ask calmly: “Can I be someone outside of that realm of ‘probably’?”

A flicker passes through Sylus’s eyes—then quickly sinks into something deep and dark. A breeze moves through the branches, knocking down another blossom or two.

He looks at you for a moment before answering: “That’s up to you, not me.”

His voice reveals little emotion, but the meaning is very clear. If you want to date him... he would be willing to go along. The prerequisite for love… is like.

He likes you.

You suddenly laugh. “Sylus, when did you start liking me?” He smiles too.

He’s used to your bluntness, but he’s still slightly surprised whenever you say something unexpected.

“It’s hard to explain,” he says. He really can’t explain it. But when you asked that question just now, the answer in his heart was already yes.

You tilt your head slightly. “It’s not love at first sight then.”

You had thought it might be; otherwise, falling so quickly would feel out of character for someone like him.

But human nature is complicated. Even the coldest person can smile when they meet the right one. Someone with a terrible temper can become gentle for the person they truly like. And those who seem confident and generous, who knows what insecurities they hide inside? Most people have two sides. Many sides. Sometimes even contradictions. Some even have hidden parts of themselves they don’t realize exist.

Those simple labels people give each other are just stereotypes.

“I’m the kind of person who doesn’t fall in love at first sight,” Sylus says. He pauses, then adds, “But I can be attracted.”

Your brows relax. “You and I are quite alike.”

The first time you saw him, you saw a little part of yourself in him. Now that feeling is even stronger.

You aren’t someone who falls in love at first sight either. But you were intrigued.

Love at first sight is often just lust at first sight. If you could fall for someone instantly, you wouldn’t have spent nineteen years without ever liking anyone. “But I feel like I’m the opposite of you."

Sylus takes two steps forward until he’s standing beside you.

“That just means I don’t understand you well enough yet,” you finish. “You will understand,” he says with certainty.

You once told him he would either make you fall completely… or keep you curious forever. His tone suggests he’s confident about which one it will be. And he has the right to be confident.

Right now you’re not sure whether you only like him a little… or if you’ve already fallen completely. You have no experience with love. You don’t even know what “falling completely” feels like.

“Let’s go,” Sylus says, glancing up at the dark clouds rolling in from the horizon. “It’ll definitely rain within two hours. I don’t know if we can make it back before then.”

You start walking. “Then why were you doing that earlier?” You mention the trees. Sylus follows beside you, saying nothing—only chuckling softly.

Without the blazing sun, walking isn’t too exhausting. The two of you abandon your usual languid stroll and walk quickly. At this pace, you definitely won’t need two hours to get home.

But the dark clouds move even faster. The rain suddenly pours down. Large drops splatter across the concrete road, leaving dark spots until the entire road turns black. There’s nowhere nearby that can fully shelter you from the rain, so Sylus pulls you beneath a dense canopy of trees.

“Give me your phone,” he says. You look at him in confusion. “Why?” “My pants are waterproof.”

His pants are cargo shorts—besides the side pockets, there are snap pockets on the front. Once they’re closed, rain can’t get inside.

You take out your phone but don’t give it to him immediately. Instead, you twirl it in your hand while looking him up and down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks. “Sylus… did you know it would rain today?” “If I had known,” he says, “would I have taken you this far?” “So it’s just a coincidence? You just happened to be wearing these pants.” “Yeah.” He chuckles. “Another coincidence.”

You look at the curve of his lips and press your tongue lightly against the inside of your mouth.

“At first, I thought you were someone who didn’t smile much.” “I don’t like to laugh,” he says. He says it while smiling. You narrow your eyes. “Then why have you been laughing so much lately?” “Don’t you know why?” Sylus looks at you with those deep black eyes. “I don’t know.” You keep twirling your phone and gesture at him with your chin. “Tell me.”

You want him to say it himself.

He’s always circling around the truth—saying things like I’ll play along, I’ll play to the end, whether you’re there or not is up to me. Indirect admissions, never a clear answer.

But this time he only says three words. “I won’t say.” “What can’t you say? You already admitted it.”

His expression remains calm.

Compared to you, the one whose heart is moving, he looks like someone experienced, someone who’s navigated countless emotions without ever losing control.

“Admitting it is one thing,” he says. “Saying it out loud without a positive response is another.” You stare at him. “How do you know I didn’t respond positively?” “Then let me ask you something.” He leans against the tree trunk, eyelids half-lowered. Calm? Confident? It’s hard to tell which. “Have you fallen for me?” His voice is relaxed, lazy even. “Completely?" You’ve already thought about this question before. You don’t know the right answer. And if you’re unsure… then maybe you haven’t. “No.”

Sylus laughs again. “What are you laughing at now?” “I won’t say.”

The three light words land in your ears like feathers, tickling your heart. This ambiguous, but tempting feeling is unbearable. “Sylus, you’re annoying.” “Yeah,” he admits easily. “I am.”

Fine. Maybe he isn’t the one who’s annoying. Maybe you’re the one about to explode.

At that moment, a raindrop falls from the tree and hits your forehead.

Sylus chuckles. “Give me your phone. This tree won’t last much longer.” You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down, and finally hand it to him.

The rain continues pouring. Drops keep falling from the leaves, and judging by the heavy clouds, it doesn’t seem like it will stop anytime soon.

You glance at the sky. “Will this rain stop?” Sylus looks at the darkened sky. “It’ll probably rain until tomorrow.” Then he adds, “It should get lighter later.” “Should we wait here for a while?” you ask. “Rainy days get dark early,” he replies. “If we wait too long, it’ll be night.”

“So…” Sylus turns toward you. He slips his hands into his pockets, tilts his head slightly back, and slowly steps out into the downpour. “Want to get soaked with me?”

Within seconds his hair is drenched, yet he doesn’t look messy. Because his head is tilted back, the rain sweeps his hair away from his face instead of plastering it down. His forehead is fully revealed—clean, youthful—only a few strands falling forward. There’s a natural wildness to him. Reckless. Free.

Your heart starts pounding uncontrollably again.

You’ve seen plenty of good-looking people in your life. None of them impressed you much. You always thought you were indifferent to appearances. But apparently… you can still be stunned.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. “Do I have any other choice?” Your voice remains calm despite the chaos inside you.

Sylus keeps his head tilted back. “There’s a big difference between choosing to get wet and being forced to get wet.”

“But I don’t want either.” You want to see what else he can come up with. Then he says: “What if you get an invitation??”

A third option.

He always seems to find one.

You clasp your hands behind your back. “Are you inviting me?” “Yes.” He extends his hand toward you through the rain. “I’m inviting you.”

No bowing. No kneeling. That kind of Western formality doesn’t suit someone raised in the mountains. This is what suits him best: head slightly tilted back, long fingers casually extended. Open. Effortless.

You lower your gaze to his palm as rainwater quickly gathers in it. A quiet laugh rises in your chest.

You place your hand in his, just as naturally, and look up at him. “Then I’ll reluctantly accept your invitation.”

Sylus smiles.

His fingers tighten around yours as he pulls you along The two of you run together into the rain.

8. You overestimate your abilities. The dowsing of rainwater sends you into a fever the same evening.

Your grandmother frets over you, aghast, "what were you thinking? It's not like you don't know the severity your own condition!" You register her words, barely. But for once, under the onslaught of the failure of your own body, you feel no regrets.

The night goes on, your fever unrelenting. Thunder roars across the skies, followed by cracks of lightning. You grandma rubs her knuckles in worry. Because of the storm, the roads are in no condition for cars to traverse. If you needed any medical attention, there's no taxis or drivers around to help.

Finally, around 3am, she goes to knock on Mephisto's door.

The young boy opens it in surprise, immediately wheeling the old lady in. "I have an important favor to ask of you," she croaks, still shivering from the rain. "Can you please ask Sylus to borrow his motorcycle? My granddaughter... she needs to go to the hospital." "I... I can call," Mephisto agrees, hesitantly. "But you are aware that..." "Yes, I know. I was hoping you would be able to take her."

Mephisto stiffens, but makes the call. After briefly explaining the situation to Sylus, he hands over the phone.

"Grandma, Mephisto isn't experienced enough to take the motorcycle down the mountain in these conditions." Sylus' voice crackles across the phone line. Her hand tightens on the receiver, "what can I do, Sylus?" A pregnant pause falls between the two of them before Sylus finally speaks up again. "I'll take her." Your grandma's voice falls to a hushed whisper. "Thank you, Sylus." "No need, it was my fault to begin with." "Don't... strain yourself. If Mephisto can go with you, drop him off with Y/N as soon as they can get a ride." Her voice is thick with emotion as she thanks him again, and hangs up the phone.

Sylus arrives within the hour, wearing nothing but a wide-rimmed hat and a wind-breaker. Your grandmother barely has time to scold him about staying warm and dry as he towels off, wrapping you in a blanket, then a rain poncho. Mephisto comes by as well, sandwiching you between himself and Sylus on the motorcycle, holding you up for extra support.

The steep, winding road down the mountain is even more eerie at night, the headlights of the motorcycle providing the only source of illumination a few yards ahead. The shadows of the forests seem endless, the darkness close to swallowing the road on both sides, as the rain continues to hammer down.

After nearly an hour, the lights of the town below finally come into view. As Sylus turns onto the main road, his arms begin to tremble slightly.

Mephisto is about to say something, but he interrupts, "we're almost there."

Sylus manages to pulls up to the front of the urgent care clinic, stumbling a little as he dismounts. Mephisto grabs his arm to stabilize him, before gathering you in his arms.

Sylus nods at him to go in as Mephisto gives him one last look of worry as he carries you into the building, calling out, "she's safe with me now. You should hurry and head back now, thank you for all the help... I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He suddenly remembers, "Oh right, I have one last favor to ask of you." "Yeah?" "If Y/N wakes up and asks about me, tell her I had to go home because of an emergency. Don't tell her anything yet." Hearing the sound of more vehicles pull up to the entrance, Mephisto seems to visibly deflate a little, then agrees. "Alright."

Taking one last look at the hospital, Sylus sits back heavily on his motorcycle, taking a moment to gather his breath before turning around.

The twins held his father's men off for as long as they could. At least he got you here.

Tall figures emerge from the cars, saying nothing. Some walk ahead as others follow behind, coming up to Sylus. He follows them back to a dark vehicle, and the car quickly starts and returns the way it came, taking him back to the villa on top of the mountain.

The car drives straight into the villa's garage, and Sylus belatedly wonders if they brought his motorcycle back with him too.

He gets out of the car, and the other people in the driver's seat and backseats follow suit. The last person walking in from the yard closes the garage door. The driver walks up to Sylus and bows to him.

Straightening up, he speaks with a condescending tone, a weary smile dancing across his face. "Sorry, young master. Your father's orders."

With that, he raises his leg and kicks Sylus in the stomach mercilessly.

9. Sunlight streams through the blinds when you wake up.

The first thing you notice is the smell of disinfectant in the hospital. Then, you crack open your eyes to see the pure white ceiling of the ward and the IV drip hanging from the medical pole in the corner of your vision.

Your first reaction is a smile. You weren't dreaming. You had a high fever, and Sylus really did bring you to the hospital.

"Y/N, you're awake!" It's your grandmother's voice. You turn your head to see her holding your hand, her expression a mixture of joy and worry. "You don't know how scared I was!" "I'm not dead" You speak comfortably, though your voice is still a little hoarse. "How could I not worry? Being unconscious for two full days is no small matter." Your grandma's brows are still furrowed. "I'm awake now, aren't I?" "Yes... It's good that you're finally awake." She pats your hand, saying nothing more, no scolding for getting caught in the rain.

Mephisto, standing nearby, quickly says, "now that you're awake, I'll go get some food. How's porridge? What kind do you want?" "Corn, mung bean, chicken, anything is fine." "Ok, I'll go now." "Wait," you call him as he's about to bolt out the door. "Where's Sylus?" His expression flickers with unease. Your grandma also shifts her gaze out the window. "He... had an emergency and went back home first."

"Oh..." You realize you've never heard Sylus mention his family before. Your voice trails off, but no emotion can be discerned.

Just then, a nurse comes in to inquire about your condition, asking you a laundry list of questions. A few minutes later, a doctor comes in to do a simple examination, and says there's no problems. You were free to leave after your IV drip, but with your condition, there was a possibility that the fever would come back. Since your grandma lived all the way up in the mountains, he recommended you stay in the hospital for another night for observation.

Your grandma immediately agrees, opting to stay on the safe side. You had no wish to stay in the hospital any longer; you hated the smell of disinfectant, and was tired of the white ceilings and sterile walls you've gotten used to in the city. But, you endure it to not worry her.

Before meeting Sylus, the only person you cared about in your life was your grandma. Now he is included too.

Mephisto returns right as the doctor leaves your room. You didn't have much of an appetite, but you haven't eaten anything for over a day now, so you force down half a bowl of mung bean porridge.

Evening falls, yet you don't feel sleepy at all. Probably from being knocked out for nearly two days.

Noticing your state, your grandma puts down her book and looks at you. "Want to chat for a bit?" she asks. "What do you want to talk about?" She smiles and says, "I saw you and Sylus were quite close last time. How far have things progressed between you two?" You think for a moment. "Still... kinda ambiguous I guess." "So he's interested in you, and you're interested in him too?" "I like him." You say it directly.

Your grandma is startled at first, then a look of relief washes over her face. "My precious granddaughter! It's like an iron tree has finally bloomed!"

"Shouldn't you be opposing this?" you ask. "Why not?" "I'm leaving after summer. I'm not going to live past thirty. There's no chance of a happy ending for the two of us."

Your grandma slowly takes a breath, then smiles. "Just because something doesn't have a good ending doesn't mean the process can't be beautiful. How can you choose not to start a beautiful relationship just because of an uncertain outcome? What era are we living in? Not every relationship has to be aimed at marriage. And of course, I'm happy that you've finally taken this step. As for Sylus... I'm also happy for him that he's willing to open his heart to someone."

For some reason, tears well up in your grandmother's eyes, but she quickly blinks them back. "Perhaps... Your appearance is God's only gift to him"

You don't know what Sylus has gone through, but hearing those words, you feel a small stab of pain. Before, when your grandmother said he was pitiful, you felt only curiosity. Now, you feel none. You only feel heavy-hearted.

That night, you remain low spirited, listless, almost lost in thought.

10. The next morning, you wake up unusually early, as if you couldn't wait to go back and see someone.

It's nearly noon when you return. After showering and washing your hair, you quickly eat lunch and grab Mesphisto to set out and find Sylus.

The road to Sylus' home is winding and sharp. Before each turn, the view in front is completely blocked. At each bend, you feel a small surge of anticipation rising in your chest, hoping to see him around the next corner.

Yet, you get all the way to the bridge in front of the large villa without seeing anyone.

Arriving at the front door, the gate swings open before you knock. A pair of twins stare at you with beady eyes. "Wait two minutes." The door closes in your face again.

Frowning, you keep time on the watch on your wrist. Two minutes pass. You look up to see Sylus standing in the doorway.

A flicker of surprise crosses your eyes, followed by a frown.

Sylus has a black eye and other abrasions on his face. His exposed arms and calves are overed in bruises. He doesn't hide his wounds, simply standing before you, battered and all. He looks disheveled, but seems unconcerned, even raising his sharp chin in greeting.

"Did you get into a fight?" you ask. He replies lazily. "It wasn't much of a fight." You tilt your head. "Indeed. A one-sided beating."

Your answer must have tickled his fancy. He chuckles, but the corners of his mouth turn down, his expression telling you: yes, not only was it one-sided, but he had gotten beaten up pretty badly. "Who hit you?" "Don't ask." "Tell me." Sylus' tone is indifferent. "Didn’t you say you wanted me to keep you curious?” Your gaze hardens. “You’ve already made me curious enough.”

Sylus has no intention of telling you, simply stepping aside and saying, "Come in, don't you mind the sun?"

You don't press further, following him through the foyer and into the living room.

The house is huge, opulent, and decorated ostentatiously with a variety of metals, stones, and even jewels. You notice, however, a corner with a completely different style. Several glass display cases are filled with maps and antique globes. "Can you show me the your maps?" you ask. "You're interested in cartography?" "No." You reply without a beat. "But I'm curious about the things you're interested in." Your words successfully make Sylus laugh again. "Let's go then."

You're about to follow when you're tripped by a fluffy ball of fur. You look down to see a ragdoll cat, cream with luxurious fur, rubbing against your leg, meowing sweetly.

Hearing the meow, Sylus turns around to look at you. "It wants you to hold her." He supplies.

"I've never held a cat before." Your mother was allergic to animal fur, meaning you never had much contact with animals growing up. As you got older... well, you weren't curious about them either. You couldn't say whether you liked or disliked these pretty animals; you've never had the urge to touch them. But your eyes would unconsciously follow pet owners and their companions.

Seeing you standing there motionless, Sylus walks over and picks up the cat. "Her name is Dragon. Raise one hand and put it on your stomach." You do as you're told, palm facing inwards, as if you're rubbing your tummy. Sylus couldn't help but laugh. "Palm facing upwards, or else Dragon won't have anywhere to stand."

Your face shows a rare hint of embarrassment. Once you're in the right position, Sylus holds the cat, letting her hind legs rest on your hands and her front paws on your shoulders. He pats the cat's head gently, murmuring, "you keep those claws in."

You're startled by the deep voice.

You blink, then instinctively raise your other hand to place it on Dragon's back. Your attention is instantly drawn to the soft, cotton-like texture, almost as if you're holding a cloud.

Dragon sniffs your chin, then lightly licks you. Your eyes widen instantly. It's the first time Sylus has seen such an expression on your face, and he looks on with amusement.

Dragon licks you again, and your eyes widen even further. "It's... licking me?" "Yup." "Why is it licking me?" "To leave her scent on you, to assert dominance." He chuckles. You're a little confused. "Does it assert its dominance on everyone like this?" "Nope. Only you, and me." Sylus emphasizes the last two words slightly, his gaze fixed on you. His eyes seem to hold a whirlpool, and you feel yourself falling into it.

Your gaze doesn't last long, as Dragon shifts her attention to your neck, suddenly deciding to nip at it. You look at Sylus again, frowning.

"You never answered my question." "Hmm?" "Were you beaten up here?" "Yes." "Was it the other gang of kids?" You wouldn't think so... "No." "Was it..." you remember Mephisto's saying he had a family emergency. "Was it your family?" "No." He pauses for a second, then adds, "actually, you could say that."

You look at him. He's expressionless as you involuntarily frown.

Dragon takes the opportunity to leap out of your arms.

Finally, as the room dims, he speak up, softly. "Do you want to watch a movie?" You hum, neither in agreement nor objection. "I have a large collection" he replies, making his way to the couch.

You watch Dragon purr as she nudges at his legs. "You can choose; I don't have a strong preference for these kinds of things."

Sylus turns on the TV and clicks on the viewing history. Down the list, you see some familiar, highly-rated films, but the majority are documentaries and road movies.

Sylus flips through the films one by one: "The Most Dangerous Game", "Pretend It's a City," "BBC Earth", "Planet Earth", "South Pacific", "The Polar Regions", "Where the Trail Ends"...

"You have... very interesting tastes," you comment offhandedly. Sylus raises an eyebrow. "Not everyone can go to many places." He finally lands on "The Shawshank Redemption", and presses play.

11. The Shawshank Redemption tells the story of Andy, who, after being wrongfully imprisoned, meticulously plans his escape and eventual freedom.

Combining this story with the other collections in Sylus' home, you can't help but wonder: does he see a reflection of himself in the main character? Is he also trapped in something like a prison, unable to escape, confined without freedom?

If that's the case, then your first curiosity about him has an answer— He said he wasn't like the wind, because the wind is free.

A piece of your chest collapses like a landslide during a storm, with boulders tumbling down and mud rushing through. This shouldn't be happening. The first day you met him, at first sight, you felt that he was like the wind, unconfined and limitless.

"Sylus." You turn to look at him, your voice hoarse. “You said that not everyone can go to so many places. Does that include you?” Sylus seems unsurprised by your question. “Yes,” he answers, face expressionless.

You already anticipated this answer, but you still wanted to hear him confirm this yourself before you move onto your subsequent question:

“Then where can you go?” Sylus barely moves his gaze as he calmly replies. “Just this mountain.”

A sharp pain shoots through your heart, followed by surprise. You thought he could at least go to the town; after all, he had taken you to the hospital just two days ago... Thinking of this, your pupils suddenly contract, gaze fixed on the wound on his cheek. “So…” You involuntarily clench your fists, pausing for half a second before continuing, “You got hurt because you took me to the hospital, out of this mountain, right?” “Yes.” “Why?”

You desperately want the answer, but not out of curiosity. You simply wanted to know out of concern for him.

But Sylus simply replies, “Don’t ask. Didn’t you say that I have to keep you curious until you completely fall for me?” You're momentarily stunned, only then remembering what you had said in the beginning. Seeing your expression change, Sylus smiles and continues. "When that day comes, or when you leave, I'll tell you everything."

You don't give him a reply, your eyes unfocused, as if deep in thought. After a while, a shadow of gloom crosses your gaze, as if you've made your mind up about something.

"Then I'll ask you one last question: Can I help you?" Compared to this relationship, you believe his freedom is more important. He's like the wind, so he should be free.

"No." Sylus speaks with utmost certainty, adding, "I'm absolutely certain."

The moment he utters the first word, you feel your single pillar of hope crumble.

The way you were before, you thought you had made peace with the world, allowing everything to happen the way it was, and accepting it with equanimity. But with Sylus, you find that his situation was the one thing you can't seem to be ok with. How can someone like him be trapped here?

You're certain that he'd be the most outstanding not matter where he goes. Yet, he can only stay away, deep in these mountains. He was born with the the most magnificent wings, yet is robbed of the ability to fly, trapped in this cage.

How could this be… Even if his cage is decorated in gold, it's still... just a cage.

You think that if Sylus was given a choice, he'd prefer to be the most average, unexceptional person if he could live a peaceful, ordinary life.

But why can't he escape?

You can't think of any logical reason why he's trapped here. You also can't understand why he's so certain you couldn't help him.

As if sensing your doubt, Sylus speaks again.

"Don't try to do anything for me, lest they do something to you. I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me." He looks at you quietly, continuing with a low voice, "Especially not you." You're even more puzzled. "What could they do to me?" "It's the mountains, the terrain is complicated, and there's no cameras. It's easy to do anything." He doesn't even mention the supernatural aspect, but it's already clear enough.

Your eyes widen as you frown, clearly shocked. “Are you sure they dare to go this far?” As if recalling something, Sylus' eyes darken. “I’m sure.”

The room is enclosed, yet you suddenly feel a cold wind rush in.

Your heart feels as if it's been torn open by this wind, your entire chest filling with an unbearable chill. Yet even this biting wind doesn't dispel the heavy, oppressive clouds that blot out the sky. Your whole world turns a suffocating, leaden gray.

You don't want to accept this reality, yet you have no choice but to.

You look at Sylus. After a long time, your gaze gradually returns to the calm they had in the beginning. “I understand,” you murmur, lowering your eyes. You appear calm on the outside, but it hurts to breathe.

“But…” You remember your grandmother's words, smiling bitterly as you say, “You shouldn’t be someone who’s only meant to stay here.”

12. It is in this moment that you realize with a start: something is off with Sylus' emotions. You, a bystander, are feeling this unbearable sorrow, while he acts as if nothing's wrong. Just now, he directly tore open his greatest wound for you to see, yet his expression remains terrifyingly calm, smiling even.

Suddenly, you recall the first day you met him, when you stood on the edge of the cliff and offhandedly mentioned that it was a good place to jump off of. He wasn't surprised at all, humming in agreement.

A terrifying possibility surfaces in your mind. Your expression hardens.

"Sylus." Your throat tightens, and you swallow before continuing. "The day I met you, you were standing on the edge of the cliff. What were you thinking?" Sylus' eyes darken for a second before letting out a slow exhale. "About jumping." He admits lowly. Just as you thought... "Then... why... didn't you?"

The words leave your mouth before you have time to regret it. In truth, you have no right to question him. You were also indifferent to life and death, vowing to fully respect others' choices. You know very well that death was a release for some people. At long as they have carefully thought it through, you wouldn't try to dissuade them. Even if you loved them. Even if that person was your grandmother.

Those who truly wish to die cannot be persuaded. They will simply find a time and place no one can stop them and make the choice without hesitation. The reason someone hasn't taken that step means they still have some hesitation, or fear death.

You're sure Sylus is not the latter. Then the reason he hesitated... must be that something has brought him peace. You want to know what that something was. A strong intuition tells you... it has something to do with you.

"I realized it was too worthless to go like this." Sylus speaks, his expression serene, his gaze falling on you like the first, thin rays of morning light.

He turns to face the screen, the light and colors constantly shifting on his face. Sometimes bright, sometimes dark, but his eyes seem completely undisturbed by the outside world, like a dense forest shrouded in perpetual fog.

"I always felt... I had to wait a little longer, that I was waiting for something that would make me feel that my existence isn't in vain." A faint flicker finally appears in his eyes. Your voice is slightly hoarse. "You waited this entire time?" He turns slowly to look at you. His expression is indifferent, but the gaze in his eyes are very deep. "I found it."

You feel a slight tug at your heart. After a long pause, you let out a dry laugh. "Don't say it's me." "It's you." he says it so frankly.

Your heart clenches, as if his gaze pierces straight through your chest, into the deepest crevices of your heart.

"There's things that I want to tell you later." Sylus looks at you, his tone soft. "I thought I lost the right to love someone the moment I was born, until you appeared before me." He smiles. "Meeting you, maybe my life has been worth it after all." His gentle voice is like a knife cutting through stone and ice, striking your eardrums with every word.

You're stunned.

Your grandmother's regretful words echo in your mind. You finally understand an inkling of what she meant. For Sylus, his life in the mountains are shackles, a burden, or maybe even irony.

But you are different.

You don't belong here. You wouldn't, can't, be trapped by him, not by your free-spirited heart, or by your inherent virtues. Otherwise, no matter what you looked like, Sylus probably would've treated you the same as all the other girls in town.

Meanwhile, he could let himself sink into despair at will.

This is probably why your grandma had knew from the beginning that something was bound to happen between the two of you. It was inevitable that he would fall for you. But it seems... that they (and you yourself) had overestimated you as well.

You take a deep breath.

"Don't tell me you're going to jump off that cliff as soon as I leave." "No." Sylus smiles. "If you hadn't appeared, I probably wouldn't have lasted another season. But now, I think I can continue to live for a few more years." You can't describe the feeling when you heard this. "Promise me?" "I promise." He laughs. "Just don't think of me once you're gone."

13. After much convincing and hedging, Sylus later teaches you how to ride his motorcycle.

He pulls out the key and holds onto one of the handlebars. "Get on first." You obey, hopping onto the seat, your feet dangling off the ground. "Hold the handlebars and straighten it."

The bike is quite heavy as you get used to the weight of steering.

"These are the front brakes," Sylus explains, pointing to the brake lever on the right handlebar grip, "and the rear brake is by your foot. You'll mainly rely on the front ones, and the rear when going at slow speeds. But it's a delicate balance, especially if you're going at higher speeds." He moves closer as he speaks. "Scooch up a little, I'll show you how to use them."

You release your hands as Sylus leans in from beside you , reaching for the right handlebar, bringing you even closer together. You can smell his scent.

"Position your hand like this so you can grip the brake easily." After demonstrating, he releases and pulls his hand back. "You try." You follow his lead and squeeze. "Good. Now looks here," he points to the throttle next. "This is the throttle. You can think of it as the accelerator. Twist it here to move the bike, but don't twist it too hard at the start, or the bike will lurch forward. This also controls the speed; twist it lightly for a slow bike, and twist it all the way to maximum speed." You nod in understanding.

"Do you mind if I touch you?" Sylus suddenly asks. You raise an eyebrow, slightly incredulous. "Mind what? Haven't you manhandled me plenty already?" Sylus lips curl into a slight smile as he lightly taps the handlebars with two fingers. "Look here."

You look down to see him raise his hand, then lower it, his palm covering the back of your own. Though you've held hands before, the moment his palm touches the your hand, you still feel a jolt of electricity. Every nerve in your body seems to tremble.

"Don't get too distracted." Sylus' deep voice falls beside your ear, his breath brushing against the back of your neck. Your eyes snap back into focus. "Watch carefully." His breath sweeps over your ears again. You want to raise your hand, as if to itch it, but you refrain, his hand still on yours. Sylus holds your hand and slowly turns the handle.

"Try it yourself." He withdraws his hand, but doesn't pull back completely, still leaning beside you.

You go through the motions twice.

"Let me turn on the ignition so you can feel it." He inserts the key and reminds you, "Remember to turn it slowly like how I showed you." "Got it." You slowly turn the throttle and feel the bike start. The speed is quite slow, enough for Sylus to walk beside you.

Feeling adventurous, you increase the speed a bit, leaning forward into the bike. Sylus beings to jog. Soon, you reach a dead end, having to either turn around or stop.

"Try turning," Sylus calls.

You do so without any hesitation, but as someone with no experience and wobbly in a straight line, you immediately fall off. Fortunately, you weren't going too fast. You react quickly, bracing yourself on your feet. Sylus appears beside you in a flash, pulling the bike back.

"You're going a little too slow; the slower you go, the harder it is to maintain balance." "I'll go faster then." You frown, taking the handlebars from him, ready to try again. "Wait," Sylus stops you. "Let me take you for a couple of laps first."

Without waiting for your reply, he lifts his long legs to sit behind you, hands covering your own again, the way he did during the demonstration. You're stunned. In this position, you're completely enveloped in his arms, as if you're being hugged from behind.

"Let's go." Sylus doesn't give you much time to adjust. He twists the handlebars, turns the corner, and takes you on two laps around the field.

The wind blows from the front, lifting your hair. It's possible that it's blocking his view, so he releases one hand to brush your hair behind your ear, the movement so natural as if you are longtime friends, or even lovers.

The breeze is cool, but you feel a restless heat. “Hold on tight, I’m gonna let go.” You blink, then hum in agreement.

Perhaps your voice is drowned out by the wind. Sylus brings his lips even closer to your ear and asks, "Did you hear me?" His voice is incredibly magnetic, deep and resonant. “You can let go now.” Despite your erratic heartbeat, your voice is steady.

Sylus doesn't completely remove his hand, but places it to the side as before, so he could control the direction and speed in case of danger.

Riding faster definitely makes it easier to maintain balance. You feel the handlebars are lighter and turning more smoothly. You successfully complete a lap around the yard.

“Keep going.” Seeing that you're almost ready, Sylus suggests, "Wanna try riding on the actual road?"

The roads outside are all winding mountain roads; even the slightest misstep could send you tumbling down a cliff. Even experienced drivers have to be extremely careful here, yet here he is, letting someone who's only been riding for less than half an hour attempt it.

You brake and turn your head. Sylus leans back for a split second as you turn, otherwise you definitely would have kissed.

Your gaze flickers as you realize why he had turned back, your mind blanking for a moment before remembering your words. "Do you want me to die?" "I'm here, what are you afraid of?" Sylus maintains his lounging posture, releasing his hands and bracing himself against the back. His voice carries a lazy, half-smiling tone.

"I'm not afraid of death, but I don't want to die now." A clear smile appears on Sylus' lips. "So little confidence in me?" You scoff. "After all, you're keeping secrets from me." "It doesn't matter." Sylus speaks slowly and deliberately, "Then I'll die with you."

His voice trails off naturally, carrying an indescribable weariness, like amusement, or nonchalance, or perhaps a calm indifference to life and death.

You realize with a shudder that perhaps he isn't just joking. He is truly willing to die with you. That deep, languid voice involuntarily echoes in your mind again. You can clearly feel your heart contract — then pound wildly.

14. "Boss!"

Sylus turns his head, seeing Luke and Kieran jogging up the hill towards him, their wings momentarily coming out of hiding to help them reach the peak of the mound quicker than their otherwise human legs.

"Just now, Y/N ran into some of creatures in the N109 gang on the road! She seems to have hit their leader at some point, so two of his underlings tried to stop her from leaving, and she got into a scuffle with them again." Luke is nearly out of breath as he is the first to approach the resting halfling.

"We were cutting grass in the nearby field when I heard them say once "His Highness" is no longer bed-ridden, they'll send more of them out to find her."

Sylus' expression turns cold. "Thanks." He utters the single word, having already taken several steps forward.

"Boss!" Kieran catches up to him, daring to grab his arm. "You know those demons plays dirty. You've already crossed paths with them because of Mephisto before. In your current condition, are you sure you want to completely antagonize them because of this girl?"

Sylus frowns, glancing at the hand gripping him. "Let go."

Kieran refuses, still clamping down tightly. "I know you like her. I've had this feeling for a while, that you wouldn't stand by idly. But please, don't be impulsive. She's only here for a little bit. Don't let someone who's only staying here for two months cause chaos for you in the future. She has to leave eventually. Just let her leave sooner."

"I don't want her to leave early." Sylus turns to look at the twins without a moment's hesitation.

Besides, he knows that you won't leave early because of this. He's only known you for a few weeks, but based on that lone, he's certain that you aren't someone who fears trouble. In fact, he'd dare to say you're more rebellious than you initially let on. He doesn't tell the twins this.

Kieran is taken aback by his words. When he speaks again, his tone is incredulous. "Boss, you really like her that much? She's only been here for days!"

Compared to their lifetimes, your presence in Sylus' life is nothing more than a drop of water, yet he's already willing to be punished because of you, and to go against the N109 gang? What would happen next once he spends more time with you?

"Are you really going to let yourself get so deeply involved?" Luke presses, voice rising. "She'll leave gracefully while you'll be stuck in all sorts of trouble! Why bother?" "Are you really going to let yourself get so deeply involved?" Sylus laughs. The twins freeze.

Having known him for decades, they've rarely seen him smile. But now, not only is he smiling, but his eyes hold a tenderness they've never seen before.

"I never thought of moving on," Sylus says with a smile. "I will always love her. Until the day I die."

15. Despite your mundane life up in the mountains, summer passes too quickly for your liking. On an otherwise sweltering late summers day at sea-level, Sylus brings you to a special place.

Stepping out of the mist between tree branches, you arrive at a clearing.

The trees are surrounded by rolling grasslands; a lush green expanse as far as the eye could see, with an exceptionally quiet atmosphere. Your stop in your tracks. It looks even more magnificent than the scenes in movies.

"How did you find this place?" You ask, breathlessly. "When I don't know what to do with myself, I wander aimlessly around the mountain." Sylus replies. "One day, I was walking and walking... until I ended up here." "Have you explored the entire mountain?" "More or less. There's no place in this mountain I don't know."

The expression on his face when he says these words carry a hint of melancholy. You immediately understand. It isn't something he is proud of; simply proof of his captivity.

"Do you think anyone else has been here?" You try to change the subject. "Of course." "Who else could have found this place?"

Throughout the journey, you haven't seen a trace of humankind. You and Sylus waded through water, climbed trees, and ducked under overgrowth to venture this far into the deep forests. Very few people are as fearless as Sylus.

Sylus simply laughs. "Guess how these trees came to be?"

Only then do you realize that the species of cypress trees here are an introduced specimen, originally native to the Mediterranean.

"This tree is so big, it must be many decades old..." you murmur in appreciation as you lean against the twisting trunk. "When were cypress introduced here?" "They say... that there was once a group of highly educated youth who returned from studying abroad. Well, it was more like wealthy young people experiencing life than getting an education, but maybe one of them brought back cypress seeds and planted them here." "Then he must have had quite an adventurous spirit." You remark. "How was he not afraid of getting lost and dying up here?"

As you speak, a breeze picks up behind you, the tassel-like flowers of the cypress swinging in the wind, carpeting the ground with small white petals.

Sylus looks up at the tree, its white blossoms falling like a mist. A fleeting look of sorrow crosses his eyes, but it quickly transforms into a faint smile.

"Do you know the meaning of cypress in flower language?" He asks. You shake your head. "What?" "Waiting for love in despair." Your breath hitches. Both you and Sylus had waited for each other in despair.

"However," Sylus lowers his eyes. "There's a source that adds another sentence before that." He turns to look at you. "Falling in love at first sight."

Your eyes widen slightly. It takes you a moment to find your words. "Didn't you say you didn't fall in love with me at first sight?" Sylus chuckles. He may not have fallen in love with you at first sight, but that one glance was enough to seal his fate. But when he speaks, he simply says, "It's about the language of flowers, not about me."

You don't reply, looking up at the huge cypress tree.

The breeze continues to pick up, petals fluttering down before your eyes like rain, mirroring the melancholy, pure white snow that falls on your heart. You think that from now on, every time you see a cypress tree, you'd remember this day, and Sylus who brought you here. Your heart clenches, the memory of the night Sylus admitted his situation to you.

"Don't think of me," he had said. But...

Cypress trees were everywhere in Linkon City. There, due to the warmer climate, the flowers bloomed in April. From now on, as long as you stayed in Linkon City, every day in April, you'd think of him. The longing wouldn't be confined to April. The boy, as free as the wind, would forever burn brightly in your memory.

16. Returning from the cypress grove, you feel as if you've been beaten; your whole body aches, from your muscles to your bones. If it were just you and your grandma, you'd stay in bed for a few days, but during dinner, you hear your grandma casually remark, "It's already August." August... You and Sylus don't have much time left.

The next day, you decide to go to Sylus' house instead. The consequences of going to his place is for your body to ache even more.

Between playing games with Mephisto and the twins, as well as Sylus deciding lying on top of you is more comfortable than the couch or bed, you think, perhaps, going out wouldn't be so tiring after all.

After a riveting game of dodgeball, you, freshly showered, lay limp in Sylus' embrace. Seeing a white butterfly land outside the French windows in the twilight, you say, "let's go catch butterflies tomorrow."

"I'll make a butterfly net tonight," Sylus leans down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Isn't catching them with a net pointless?" You frown. "Then let me ask you, what do you get out of catching butterflies?"

You think for a minute, unable to come up with an answer. "I've never caught one before... but if I had to say... it's the sense of accomplishment when you get one?" "Catching them doesn't necessarily bring a sense of accomplishment," Sylus replies. You don't understand. "What do you mean?" "Catching them with your hands will get your hands covered in powder, and the butterflies are likely to die or be maimed. Do you want the butterflies to die in your hands?"

Hearing his words, you let out a chuckle. Sylus pinches your chin and lifts it to meet your gaze. "What are you laughing at?" You don't express it out loud, but Sylus already knows what you were about to say.

"I know, from a biological standpoint, butterflies don't possess emotional cognition. Keeping them until they die naturally isn't cruel. Although I feel sorry for depriving them of their freedom, I don't feel too much guilt. I'm not the saint you imagine, someone who sees all beings as equal, nor am I some great philanthropist. Many of the things I've done that you consider benevolent are merely to satisfy my personal desires. I don't have a strong sense of morality." He shakes his head.

Even after his entire spiel, you still think he's a very good person. Whether it's out of selfishness or anything else, only a person with a good heart would be so kind, even in their selfishness. Moreover, a strong sense of morality felt restrictive when it came to Sylus. His way of thinking... it makes you comfortable around him.

He's truly an undeniable person. You admit, it's impossible not to fall in love with him.

"No need," you say with a smile. "Didn't you think it was pretty?" "I do, but that doesn't mean I like it. Since I don't like it, I don't have the idea of turning it into a specimen to collect."

You turn to face Sylus, your gaze suddenly deepening. Sensing you're about to say something important, he waits quietly.

After a while, you carefully choose your words. "I don't think I've told you directly, but I don't like anything else besides you." "I know," he replies. You're surprised. "You know? Did my grandma tell you?" "She didn't tell me, but you're the one who said that the world is utterly boring and I'm the only thing you're curious about."

"Then you still don't know." You sigh before continuing. "I suppose you can call me someone with a personality flaw. I said I don't like anything but you, not now, but starting from when I was nine until I met you this summer."

Hearing this, Sylus freezes. He thought you were simply indifferent. You continue calmly. "Before meeting you, for 10 years, I never knew what anticipation or happiness felt like."

"Sylus, do you know what I thought you looked like the first day I saw you?" You suddenly counter with a question. He takes a deep breath. "Didn't you say I looked like the wind?" "Not that." "Then what else?" You stare at him intently before finally saying, "Like a god."

"So, Sylus-" you raise your hand to cup his cheek, "To me, you're not like a god." "You are my god."

Something falls heavily into Sylus' eyes. In this world, trees are plentiful, but gods are rare. Will his bird meet another god? It will. It most certainly will. He tells himself this, but his heart tightens, his throat bobbing uncontrollably.

You know he wouldn't feel good hearing your confession, but it seems that only by telling him this could you persuade him that even after you leave, you can always return.

Perhaps this is somewhat selfish. Your existence, while a comfort to him, is another constraint you put on him. If you didn't leave in the first place, you feared he wouldn't be able to end his own life, perhaps living a life of hardship for your sake, just like your grandma.

You overheard by accident a conversation between your doctor and psychiatrist when you were thirteen that your grandma had tried, and failed to commit suicide three times because of you.

To ensure you felt loved, your grandma lived on, despite her own intense wishes to let go of the world that no longer had anything left for her.

You tried to fake being healed, but your grandma saw through your act each time. Finally, you thought of ending your own life to relieve your grandma of her burden, but after learning of your thoughts, she told you:

"Suicide will send you to hell. If you go to hell because of me, I'll hate myself."

You didn't want Sylus to become another grandma. So you had made up your mind. Either you die first, or you die with him. You'll go to hell together.

"Sylus, I only feel the meaning of life when I'm with you, so are you still going to push me away?" You look at him. He stares back at you, eyes red and swollen. You speak again. "It took me ten years to meet you. Do you think I can hold on for another ten years?" Hearing your words, Sylus' eyes widen for a moment. "Yes!"

He seems provoked by the meaning behind your words, his expression tensing. "You can definitely hold on for the next ten years! You're only eighteen! You've just started your adult life, so of course..." "Sylus Qin!" You shout, interrupting him.

You don't want to hear him say idealistic things, that your health will be fine, or that you'll meet someone else. You only want him.

"Y/N!" Sylus calls you out too, almost as if scolding you. But just as quickly, his voice softens. "Do you still remember the meaning of the Cypress tree?" You do.

Waiting for love in despair.

“I’ve waited and waited, but you haven’t reached that point yet. Just wait a little longer, and you’ll find a god who will always protect you... Just a little longer…” Sylus' voice is so hoarse, as if he's reached his limit. His eyes are bloodshot, filled with a desperate plea.

You've never seen him like this before. A man as carefree as the wind shouldn't be like this. Ah. So it still won't work? He still insists on pushing you away.

You can't bear to ask him your last question: what if you couldn't wait any longer? Even more, seeing him like this, you can't tell him the words: I want to die with you.

"Then just pretend I..." your voice trembles as you whisper. "Pretend I said nothing today." Sylus' voice is equally hoarse as he says, "Okay."

No matter if you could hold on for the next ten years or not, as long as you don't decay in this mountain here with him, there was still a glimmer of hope.

You take a deep breath, open your eyes, and get up from Sylus' arms. "I'm going to catch butterflies."

Sylus watches you walk to the center of the flowerbed. Butterflies flutter around you, your eyes clear and light, like a pool of spring water. With each one that flies by, a delicate shadow flashes across your eyes. You tilt your head back, unaware that a blue butterfly had landed on your shoulder. It rests there, fluttering its wings slowly. The scene is beautiful. Serene. As if nothing just happened at all, no fervor, no heart-wrenching pain.

That afternoon, the two of you catch many butterflies, in all sorts of colors. But you don't intend on depriving them of their freedom. As dusk creeps up the treetops, and the sky is tinged with varying shades of orange and red, you release the butterflies back into the forest together. You watch as the dozens of butterflies fly out of their cage. A spectacular sight.

You can't help but think, if only Sylus can also be freed like them.

In your life though, this moment was enough. More than enough.

17. Your last night in the mountains is another rainy evening.

Sylus holds an umbrella and walks you home. The raindrops pound relentlessly above your heads, and you can't help but think that the sound reminds you of fireworks that echo all night long outside your window on new years eve.

You stop and look down at the raindrops splashing on the ground. You remember a phrase from a poem: rain is the fireworks of the gods.

People use fireworks to bid farewell to the past year. Is this rain a farewell from the mountains?

"What's wrong?" Sylus asks, stopping with you. You look up. "Sylus, can you walk with me in the rain one more time?" You hold out your hand. "This time, it's my turn to invite you."

Sylus readily agrees, tossing the umbrella aside and grabbing your hand, running into the rain.

There's a feeling of exhilaration, running across the endless grasslands of the mountains through the rain. With the sound of Sylus' laughter, it's almost as if you weren't about to part, but rather, eloping hand in hand.

The rain continues to fall, soaking the entire forest. Sylus doesn't mind the rain getting into his eyes, his gaze remains fixed on your figure. "My girl, please, keep running forward like this" he thinks silently.

The mountain rain shrouds the forest in a verdant haze. It's hard to make out anything distinct in the haze, yet you still manage to find the white house.

Your pace slows. "We're almost there," Sylus calls. You don't reply. "I want to ask you for something," Sylus continues. You stop. "What?" "Your camera." A glint flashes in your eyes. "You won't even let me keep a single photo of you?" "Didn't you delete it?" You pause. "I'll get it for you." You release Sylus' hand and take a few steps forward, pushing open the door to go inside.

Sylus doesn't follow you in, instead leaning against the wall, letting the rain soak him. A moment later, you remerge, holding an umbrella.

"Here." You hand him the camera and the umbrella together. Sylus takes them, then takes a step towards you, holding the umbrella over his head.

The two of you stand under the umbrella once again. Very close.

You look up. "Do you want to talk for a little longer, or should I go now?" Sylus smiles. "Go home early, don't want you catching a fever again." "That's all?" Your expression is somber. "You have something to tell me, don't you?" "Live well, eat well, go out more, make friends, be careful, don't get sick, don't do anything to hurt yourself., and enjoy your life to its fullest." "And..." He pauses for a moment, "...don't think of me anymore."

Your gaze darkens, as you remain silent.

Sylus doesn't say anything more. The only sound is of the rain hitting the umbrella. It's pouring, with the visibility close to zero in the distance. "We won't see each other again, hmm?" Sylus asks again.

But it's not a question. He's telling you that even if you come back in the future, you shouldn't meet again.

You feel as if a knife just stabbed you in the heart. The cold, damp air rushes in, making it hard to breathe. "Yes, we won't see each other again." You try to force a smile, struggling to keep your voice even. Sylus laughs. At his laughter, your eyes instantly redden, but you still desperately try to hold back your tears.

How can you cry when Sylus laughs?

"Sylus, you're such an asshole." Despite knowing he isn't as nonchalant as he appeared, you still complain, resenting his ability to not show even a hint of reluctance, his refusal to say any longing words, or even to just call your name again.

"Then forget about this asshole."

A sudden pang of pain shoots through your heart, and your pulse seems to stop for a few seconds. You feel tears freely run down your cheek.

Sylus, seeing you struggle to hold back, couldn't stop his own eyes from reddening. He doesn't want you to suffer too much, nor does he want you to see the heartache and pain that was about to overflow from his own eyes.

While he could still control his voice, he says, "I'm leaving. Since we won't see each other again, this is goodbye." Leaving you with this last sentence, he doesn't linger for a second longer.

Without the shelter of an umbrella, the rain drowns him. He couldn't tell if his eyes were filled with rain or tears. In his flooded vision, your figure quickly disappears into the depths of the mist.

You suddenly feel unsteady, your body swaying, forcing you to hold onto the wall to stand as if you're a piece of glass about to topple and shatter. You feel as if you're drowning, unable to breathe, a suffocating pain surging through you like a tidal wave. A pain you couldn't bear, a pain so intense you wanted to die in that moment.

If only you knew it would hurt this much... You'd still want to meet him.

You crouch down, umbrella long forgotten beside you, crying in the rain, your whole body trembling.

On the mountain path, swallowed by the torrential rain, another person, like you, cried until he couldn't move, standing motionless in the rain for a long, long time.

There was only a bend in the road between you. If it wasn't for the pounding rain, surely, you would have heard each other's cries. But there are no "if's" in the world.

18. The rain stops after nightfall. By morning, only the piles of fallen leaves by the roadside are still damp with rainwater. When you come downstairs with your luggage, the post-rain dampness in the air has evaporated, the sun blazing overhead. Summer isn't over, but from now on, there will be no more Sylus in your summers. But what kind of summer is it without Sylus?

After having your last lunch with your grandma, the driver arranged to pick you up arrives.

"Grandma, I'm leaving." "No rush, dear. Come here, let me see you one last time."

Your grandma takes your hand, stroking the back of it gently again and again, carefully looking into your face as if trying to memorize its lines. You suddenly realize your grandma has truly aged. In the past, she's never shown such reluctance to part.

You think perhaps she's worried about you.

"Grandma, I'll be ok." "I know, I just want to see you one more time." You hold her hands in your own. "Linkon City isn't that far. If you miss me, just call, and I'll come back to see you." "Alright." She gives you a smile and pats your hands. "Let me know once you reached school." "Okay."

You get up, pulling your suitcase with you, and head out of the living room. Your grandma, on her wheelchair, follows you to the front door, watching you get into the car.

After you are settled in your seat, you roll down the window and wave goodbye. She lingers at the door for a while, even after the car has disappeared.

The scenery outside your window recedes like the tide.

You gaze intently at the vast expanse of mountains and forests, your eyes unblinking, as if trying to imprint every tree deeply into your mind. After driving for a while, the vehicle beings a steep descent. The speed isn't fast, but you feel your heart plummet.

Goodbye, Azure mountains. Never again, Sylus Qin.

The sun hangs overhead, but the wind blowing from the depths of the forest are somehow cool, as if soaked with the chill of yesterday's rain.

19. The old lady stands alone, gazing far into the distance, her thoughts drifting.

"Grandma," a clear voice sounds from in front of her. She turns her head and calls out with a smile. "Sylus." "Are you here to see Y/N off?" she asks.

Sylus neither confirms nor denies the question, simply handing over the umbrella he's carrying to her.

"I'm returning her umbrella." "I see."

His goal is achieved, but he shows no sign of leaving.

"Is there anything else?" Your grandma asks. "I'd like to ask you for a favor." Sylus reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it over to her. "This is my phone number. If Y/N comes back to see you in the future, please let me know. I..." He pauses. "It's best if we don't see each other again." Your grandma sighs, "Alright," and takes the paper.

Looking down at the string of numbers, she seems lost in thought for a moment.

"Sylus?" She looks up. "I also have something I'd like to ask of you." "Please, go ahead." "No rush." She holds up the piece of paper. "I'll call you." "Alright. Please call me anytime if you need anything." "Thank you, Sylus."

Your grandma's expression isn't a casual thank you, but a heartfelt, genuine gratitude.

A gust of wind blows by. Feeling the coolness, Sylus says, "It's chilly today, grandma. You should go back inside." The old lady nods. "If there's nothing else, I'll get going now."

Waving goodbye to your grandma, Sylus returns home. Having heard his footsteps, Dragon is already waiting for him, perched by the shoe stands.

Sylus doesn't stop, only leaning over to pat her head as he passes.

Dragon follows him, meowing and weaving through his legs as he moves. Seeing he isn't stopping to pick her up as usual, she runs ahead, lying down to demand petting in a rare display of affection.

Seeing his path blocked, Sylus finally stops. For some reason, the pent-up emotions suddenly become unbearable.

A headache from staying up all night tears at his nerves, accompanied by a long, sharp ringing in his ears. Hunger unable to be satisfied by food claws at his abdomen, as if he's being stabbed with knives. The pain is so intense he like he might collapse at any moment. He can only lean against the wall, slowly sliding down as he waits for the pangs to subside.

The stomach is truly an organ of emotions. He hasn't experienced such cravings in a very long time. But even the intense physical pain doesn't mask the ache in his heart. The two entwine and coexist, making him feel like he's dying.

Dragon seems to sense her owner's discomfort, gently nuzzling against his hand, and occasionally letting out a soft meow, as if worried. "Don't worry, Dragon. I won't die." Sylus says, reaching out to run his fingers through her fur. His lips are pale, yet he smiles. "I promised her I'd keep living for a few more years."

Sunlight streams in through the window, casting shadows on the white wall. Sylus sits in the corner, watching the light climb higher and higher until it stops, turning a pale gold, and gently fades.

As the sky begins to dim, he finally struggles to his feet and heads upstairs. On his bedside drawer sits the camera you gave him.

After a quick shower, he lies down on the bed and picks up the camera. He hasn't turned it on yet.

Clicking into the photo album, he sees the first photo is of himself - the same one you originally said you had deleted. He chuckles.

Scrolling down, there's a few selfies of you. You thought he wanted your camera because he didn't want you to leave with the photo of him. In reality, he wanted it for the photos of you.

Staring at the screen, Sylus hesitates for a long time before raising his hand to gingerly touch the face on the screen. "Y/N, I will always remember your face," he says to himself. "They say, that you can pray to cypress trees. Though it never granted my wish to leave this mountain, I'll keep praying for you. My only wish is that you find happiness in your life." Sylus' eyes darken, as if he's thinking of something. "I will love you forever, but don't think of me anymore."

As the echoes of his words fade into the room, Sylus doesn't say anything anymore, simply staring into the face in the camera until a low battery warning pops up onto the screen.

He turns to the window. The night is already deep. There are no stars in the sky tonight. "Goodnight, Y/N." He puts down the camera.

19. From that day on, Sylus goes to the cypress grove every afternoon, returning at dusk, and playing with Dragon. It becomes his routine.

In November at Linkon City, the weather turns cool, with hints of winter already visible. The wind blowing through the air instead reminds you of a cold, early spring.

You pause, paintbrush in hand, turning to look at the swaying shadows of trees against your window. You walk over, but not to close it. Instead, you lean outside, letting the breeze caress your face. Only after the wind subsides do you return to your easel.

Since coming back to Linkon City, you spent most of your time painting in your dorm, depicting the same person in different scenes- the boy on the mountain, as free as the wind.

The person who wanted you to forget him, but you couldn't. How could you forget? A mere breeze reminds you of him. The wind is everywhere, ubiquitous.

And not just the wind, but rain showers, a single star in the night sky, a cypress tree, yet to bloom on campus, even any painting in the school corridors - everything reminds you of him, and how he is trapped on that mountain.

You couldn't forget him, and you don't want to.

When the feelings are intense enough, they become physiological. When you saw him, you would smile unconsciously, and seeing him walk away made your heart ache. Now, when you can't see him, every sleepless night turns the moon into his image.

You start suffering from insomnia the first day back in Linkon City. Whenever you couldn't sleep, you take out the book of poems you took from Sylus' room, and read it over and over again, letting the words take you back to him. After reading all 520 of them, you'd usually fall alseep.

The only thing that kept you sharp was your search for a sorcerer, a fortune-teller, someone who could tell you why Sylus was trapped on the mountain and how to save him.

With something to do, you feel that each day isn't as unbearable as before, except... You missed him terribly.

Your longing is especially intense the day a typhoon hits.

Typhoons are quite common in summer, less so in spring and autumn. The name of this typhoon is "Ourea", god of the mountains. You wonder if there was a deity of Azure mountains, and if it was looking down on you and Sylus too.

The typhoon hits at 3pm. Dark clouds cover the afternoon sky, the winds howling like the roar of wild beasts. Trees snap, and windows rattle.

You stand by the window, silently gazing outside.

Under the ravaging of the rain, the scene before you nearly looks like the end of the world, yet you feel no fear. You almost wish it is actually the end of the world. If that day was today, you only wish for a chance to make a phone call. You want to hear Sylus' voice again and tell him "Sylus, I'm in Linkon City, battered by the wind, and I miss you so much."

20. By the end of November, the temperature on the Azure mountains is already nearing freezing. The days are getting shorter, the forest quieter. Leaving the cypress grove, Sylus rubs his frozen hands, feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket.

It's an unknown number. Sylus knows who it is.

He answers the phone, an elderly woman's voice coming through. "Sylus, it's me, Y/N's grandma." "Hello." "Sylus, can you come over tomorrow? I need your help with something." "Ok, grandma. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sylus heads over to your grandma's house after breakfast. Upon seeing him, she tells him what she needs help with. "It's nothing, really, I just wanted to ask you to take me down the main road to that bridge."

Sylus knows which bridge she's referring to, of course. "I'll take you there."

With the cold, it takes nearly an hour along the dirt path. When the paved sidewalk ends, your grandma turns to Sylus. "Don't take me in, just tell me how to get there." "There's quite a few forks in the road." Sylus kneels down in front of the wheelchair. "I'll carry you over." Your grandma hesitates, then put her arms around Sylus' shoulders. "Thank you, Sylus." "Of course. It's not that far from here."

Upon finally reaching the bridge, Sylus puts your grandma down.

After so many years, your grandma's emotions are indescribable. Her eyes fill with tears. She trembles as she touches the railing. Sylus initially thought about retreating, to let her reminisce about the bridge herself, but he fears she might stumble, instead following behind her slowly.

Your grandma walks from one end of the bridge to the other, tears streaming down her face. She doesn't speak, only weeping silently. She stops after reaching the other end.

Gathering her emotions, she turns to Sylus and smiles. "Let's go back now, Sylus." "Won't you like to stay a little longer?" "No need."

On the way back, she mentions how she hears him go deep into the mountains often. "Are you thinking of Y/N?" She asks. "Yes." Sylus replies honestly. She smiles and says, "don't worry, I won't tell." "Thank you." "Don't keep thanking me, I should be the one to thank you. You filled the void in Y/N's heart, making my extra ten years of life worthwhile." "You overestimate me." "Not at all, I'm truly grateful to you. Because of you, I finally..."

She doesn't finish her sentence, pausing abruptly, then laughs and changes the subject. "Accompany me for dinner. You seem to have lost weight lately." "Alright." Sylus agrees.

Seeing your grandma return, the housekeeper starts cooking.

Sylus sits with you grandma in the living room, nursing a cup of tea. "I heard there was a typhoon in Linkon City," Sylus mentions casually. Your grandma smiles reassuringly. "Don't worry, Y/N is fine. She called to let me know she's safe." Sylus doesn't speak, watching the leaves float in his cup.

Your grandma looks at him, her gentle eyes flickering. After a while, she sighs and says, "Sylus, you're a good child. Truly. Except you're too stubborn. Listen to what you want instead of focusing on an overly idealized future. Since there's hope, shouldn't you try?" "With me, there's no future." Sylus says in a deep voice. "Why? Even a short future is still a future." "Can something so short really be considered a future?" Sylus lowers his gaze, taking a deep breath. "My existence is a curse in itself, and the other creatures will see her as a threat. They'll worry that she'll find a way to get me out of this mountain. I worry they'll create an... accident."

Your grandma is shocked, clearly not having considered this.

"I don't know why I was born like this, but I suspect the reason they won't let me leave the mountain is related to their interests. If my own father can break my tendons and chain me here like livestock, there's no end to what they could do." Sylus takes a deep breath. "So, Grandma," he looks at her, gaze deep, "I have no other choice."

Your grandma's eyes turn watery. She clenches her firsts and says bitterly, "They're inhuman." Sylus gives a small laugh. "They're not human to begin with."

Just then, Mrs. Zhou comes out of the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

"Don't think about it, Grandma. Please eat." Sylus calmly reaches out to help her up. “Let's eat." Sylus never had an appetite for human foods, but to cheer your grandma up, he eats a full bowl, only to vomit terribly afterwards. But that's a separate story.

After dinner, your grandma insists on seeing him off. As they reach the door, she slips an envelope into Sylus' pocket, pressing his hand as he tries to take it out, and gesturing for him to be quiet.

Sylus understands and stops trying to refuse.

As Sylus reaches his front door, he takes out the envelope. As he expected it contains around 500 dollars in cash, and a letter. He unfolds the letter, which reads:

"Sylus, there are some things that I feel are better said to you in a letter. The day you left Y/N, she cried for a long time in the rain. I've never seen her cry like that, not even as a baby. After the Chronorift disaster, she was far too quiet, rarely crying or smiling. Over time, to avoid the pain of loss, she locked herself away, no longer having anything she liked, so it wouldn't be taken away from her. Without love, there is no joy. You appearance was one of the few moments of happiness in Y/N's life; it was like a miracle. I don't know if she's told you this, but I'm telling you now. Living is very hard for her. That day, she told me she wanted to die with you, but you valued her life too much. However, I want to say that there are things more important than life. When Y/N was younger, I attempted suicide three times because the love of my life had passed away. But when I woke up in the hospital the last time and saw Y/N standing alone in the corner, I decided to live. I thought this little girl also needed to feel loved and wanted to save her. I can't save her. When she learned that I was living for her sake, she wanted to end her own life. I know she wanted me to be able to see her grandfather, but also to free herself. Living is painful for her, but I still keep wishing she'd hold on a little longer, until she meets someone worth living for, until she experiences a love that won't betray her previous suffering. I know this is what you want for her too. But you know what? If she hasn't met that person by the time she's 24, I don't plan to let her suffer any longer. Sylus, if one day Y/N comes back and tells you she can't hold on anymore, please, make a promise with her for when she turns 24. Sylus, I've considered many possibilities, both good and bad. If you hear bad news from her, use this $500 to go see her."

Tap-

A tear falls onto the paper.

Sylus closes the envelope, tucking it back into his pocket. He closes his eyes in the oncoming wind.

21. Night falls, and the mountains are silent. Under the starless night sky, everything is dark, except for a single beam of light shining from a small house.

The door hinge creaks, and an elderly woman in a wheelchair emerges from the courtyard, flashlight in hand. She follows the direction she remembers, departing from the paved path. A lone motorcyclist stops the old lady, calling out, "Grandma! Where are you going so late at night?"

She simply smiles, "I'm afraid you'll laugh if I tell you. Today is the anniversary of my husband's death. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come out for some fresh air. Maybe I'll run into my husband's ghost."

Ghosts are terrifying to some, but to others, they're a gift to see.

Seeing the old lady's sincerity, the other person doesn't suspect anything, simply sighing. "I admire the deep devotion you have for your late husband, but it's too dangerous for an elderly person like you to be out here at this hour. Let me take you back." Your grandma waves her hand. "No need, no need. My wheelchair is quite sturdy. I'll make my way around." The young man can only say, "Please be careful. Head back soon, it's very cold out here, don't get sick."

After saying goodbye, your grandma continues on her path alone. It's already very late. No one is out in this weather.

The place she stops is just ahead of the muddy path Sylus had taken her earlier that day. Shining her flashlight around, she shakily stands up, grabbing her walking stick, and pushes her wheelchair into the ditch beside the road.

Hanging the flashlight around her neck, she steps onto the muddy path, struggling to keep walking. She stumbles after a few yards, but gets back up again. By the time she sees the bridge, her body is bruised all over, clothes stained with mud and blood. Finally reaching the bridgehead, she uses her last bit of strength to sit up, leaning against the post.

A star appears in the sky. She looks up at the single light in the darkness. Perhaps her love was on the star, watching over her. The chilling wind blows across the river, bitterly cold, but the old woman smiles. She's been waiting for this moment for many, many years. "Darling, I'm coming for you," she says, then slowly closes her eyes.

The temperature drops to below freezing at night, the river slowly beginning to freeze. No one would be able to survive outside on such a cold winter night, let alone an elderly woman.

The next day, when people found her, she had already passed away peacefully, a smile still on her face.

Her body was taken back to the village.

By the time you return, she's already lying peacefully in a coffin at the funeral home. Looking at your grandma's smiling face, you smile too, but tears stream down your face.

Mrs. Zhou, eyes red, comes over to pat your shoulder, trying to comfort you. "Don't be too sad. Your grandma left on her own, on the same bridge your grandpa built for her." "Then she must have seen him," you say.

You genuinely felt happy for her.

From the moment you saw her lying there, you knew that she didn't die of an accident or any sudden health condition. She had missed your grandfather and gone to find him. Finally. She didn't have to suffer anymore.

You place your hand in the coffin, cradling your grandma's hand, saying in a hoarse voice, "Grandma, you've suffered a lot all these years."

22. Screams ring out, as a boy nicknamed "His Highness," finds himself utterly powerless under Sylus' relentless blows.

He knows, of course, why he's being beaten. As Sylus pauses for a moment to ask, he takes the chance to speak first, shouting, "Stop! Stop! I was wrong, I was wrong!" Sylus simply holds him by the collar of his shirt. "What did you do wrong?" "I shouldn't have cornered Mephisto, I shouldn't have burned his college application. I was wrong! I know I was wrong!"

Sylus looks down at him, eyes devoid of any warmth. "Then I'm not doing anything wrong, am I?" With those words, he gives the spirit one more hard kick before turning away.

As he walks away, a larger group of creatures surround him. Recognizing them as part of Onychinus, he lets them take him. They don't fight him, instead, they push him deep into the woods, until they reach a cave.

In the den, sitting on a plush throne, is the figure of a man. Sylus' father, whom he hasn't seen in nearly half a century.

Hearing the commotion, his sharp, reptilian eyes sweep over the group before him. Sylus meets his gaze, his own even colder, chillingly so. "I've disturbed you, haven't I?" Sylus chuckles, tone dripping with undisguised sarcasm.

The figure doesn't speak, simply standing up and walking slowly towards Sylus, stopping in front of him.

Slap—!

A loud crack echoes against the walls.

Sylus staggers back two steps from the blow, a metallic taste filling his mouth. He licks it with the tip of his tongue, giving the man an cold look. His father seems enraged by his indifference, grabbing Sylus' chin with a grip so tight, it feels as if he wants to crush his bones.

"Try glaring at your father again." Sylus smiles as if he just hard a joke. "My father?" The smile vanishes as he sneers, "You think you're worthy of that title?"

The man's anger flares instantly, and the figures morphs into a huge, draconian form. A single swipe of his tails knocks Sylus to the ground.

"We treat you like a emperor here, and here you are, always trying to run away or cause more trouble!" Sylus spits back, "Otherwise what? Should I be grateful to you?" Another blow lands on him. "You should be grateful I even allowed you to live! You curse! You killed your mother!" Sylus doesn't have more words to argue with this kind of person. "I didn't ask to be born."

Seething, the dragon crouches down, his claws tight around Sylus' neck. "I told you you'd die if you leave this mountain. You want to try?"

Hearing no response, he chuckles. "If you want to die that badly... Then go die."

While his face is still expressionless, Sylus' pupils visibly dilate at the last three words. His father, seeing this, sneers, then turns around to leave.

Sylus is shoved back into the car.

A while later, all is silent back at Sylus' house. Dragon, afraid of strangers, finally emerges from her corner. She goes to Sylus' feet, rubbing against his leg, emitting a low purr. Sylus picks up the cat and buries his face in its soft fur.

Dragon rests quietly on Sylus' shoulder, head nestled in the crook of his neck, as if embracing him in her own way.

After a long silence, a hoarse voice echoes hollowly in the room. "Dragon, you're all I have left."

It's new years eve, the liveliest night of the year. Sylus once again spends it without his family. The only difference was that before, he had Mephisto, and sometimes the twins with him. This year, its just himself and Dragon.

There's no ban on fireworks in the Azure mountains. Every new year's eve, before dusk, the sound of fireworks and firecrackers fill the air, growing louder as the night deepens. On this night, even the brightest stars pale in comparison to the fireworks that blanket the night sky.

Every year, at that time, Sylus would climb onto his roof and look at the sky ablaze with colors and flames. Not a single firework blooms for him. None of this earthly warmth belongs to him.

He doesn't need to get close to see the lights from homes far away to know what goes on inside: families gathering together, some watching the countdown, some playing cards and drinking by the fireplace.

In previous years, he doesn't feel his heart moved all that much, but this year, it does. Because he's thinking of someone. He wonders. Now that your grandma had passed away, were you alone, just like him?

Sylus knows its futile for him to long for this kind of human warmth, but he genuinely hopes you could feel it.

23. Meanwhile, a hundred miles away in Linkon City.

A large group of college students are gathered in a bar, having dinner and enjoying their New Years Eve celebrations. Everyone is chattering and laughing, except one, who seems to be in her own little world.

Since getting here, you haven't uttered a single word, like a silent shadow, completely out of place in this festive scene.

Looking at the smiling faces before you, the laughter and joy in your ears are suddenly interrupted by a sharp ringing. You reflexively lower your head, closing your eyes, frowning as you try to endure the tinnitus.

After a full minute of ringing, the noise finally subsides, and you open your eyes to see a glass of beer placed in front of you. "Y/N, drink up!" You're startled, because accompanying the voice is the chirping of cicadas hidden deep within the forest. But it's the dead of winter.

Your look of surprise vanishes just as fast. This isn't the first time you've heard the sounds of summer in winter. You know it's an auditory hallucination. But since when did you start getting hallucinations after tinnitus?

It wasn't after your grandmother's death. No. It was a month before.

You had went to see a fortune-teller that day. Late that night, you opened the poem book on your nightstand and came across a poem titled "Winter". It read something like this: "Is this winter? I'm not sure. But when you're not by my side, I can always hear the cicadas chirping in the height of summer."

From that moment on, the poem became your reality.

Initially, the symptoms weren't severe, but they had worsened after your grandmother's death. You didn't need to go see a doctor to know why this was happening. Your hope was gone, and your support as well.

In your hallucinations, every smiling face before you gradually blurs into a phantom, the joyful sounds of your classmates becoming indistinct; only the sound of cicadas remains clear. You feel as if you're standing on the edge of the world, or in a different dimension. The scene of celebration, seemingly within your reach, feels incredibly distant.

You finally understand why your grandmother disliked such gatherings - because the one she loved wasn't there. Such lively and warm moments only evoke more painful memories, reminding you of the one person you wanted to see.

You miss your grandma. You also miss Sylus. Sylus, is anyone counting down the new year with you right now? I'm surrounded by dozens of people, but without you, I only feel lonely. The more lively the scene, the more I want you by your side.

"Y/N?" It sounds like someone's calling you. "Y/N, are you alright?" Someone is shaking you, trying to pull you out of your imaginary world, but it only makes you more dizzy.

Buzz-

A sharp screeching tears across your ears. You cover your face with your hands, shrinking back in pain. People around you panic, crowding around you, calling your name anxiously. The cacophony of shouts and the piercing ringing in your ears makes your head throb. Breathing becomes difficult. Surrounded by the crowd, you feel as if you've been thrown in a kettle and boiled dry. Your eardrums are being torn apart, the air unbearably stuffy.

"Move out of the way! Don't surround her!" "Someone get her to the hospital!"

In the chaos, someone knocks over a glass, which shatters on the floor with a loud crash. The sound of shattering is so crisp, it knocks you out of your torture. Time stands still, and all the noise vanishes.

You open your eyes to see the broken glass on the floor. A sudden surge of tears well up in your eyes, as if you, too, had shattered along with it.

"Y/N, look at me." Voices reach your ears again. You look at the person in front of you slightly sluggishly, your eyes unfocused. "Y/N, tell me, what's wrong?" You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. "Someone take her to the hospital, she's not right in her mind." Only then does your gaze finally converge. "It's nothing, just tinnitus." You tone is eerily flat. "You should still go get checked..." "No," you interrupt, standing up. "You guys continue, I need to go somewhere." No one chases after you.

24. Stepping out into the cool breeze, you call a taxi.

"Hello, I'd like to go to Azure mountain, now," you say to the driver. "Miss, it's New Years Eve today, I..." the driver is clearly reluctant. "Take me there, and I'll give you a thousand dollars."

Only a fool would turn down a thousand dollar single trip. The driver lets you in.

The journey from Linkon City to the foot of the mountains takes around four hours. However, it had snowed, making the ascent difficult. It's nearly midnight when you arrive at Sylus' home.

Getting out of the taxi, you bid the driver farewell as you walk across the bridge and stop at the door. Before you even raise your hand to knock, the door opens automatically, with Sylus stepping out.

"Call the driver back," are his first words to you, tone cold. You stare at him, then take out your phone, and smash it into the ground behind him. "Can't. My phone's broken." Sylus furrows his brows. "What do you want?" "I miss you." His expression darkens as anger flashes in his eyes, his gaze icy. "You promised you wouldn't hang onto me." "Then I apologize, but I can't do that." Sylus' lips tighten as he replies ruthlessly. "If I had known you'd be this shameless, I never would've bothered with you in the first place." You ignore his harsh words, simply stating, "But you did." "I regret it." "Regret is useless," you don't buy his act. "Ask yourself honestly. Do you really regret it?"

Sylus doesn't answer, silently staring at you.

Fireworks burst in the sky, one after another, from the town below. One explodes right above you, ephemeral and beautiful, but neither of you look up. You stare intently at each other, one with icy coldness, the other with unwavering determination. You're locked in a stalemate, neither willing to back down.

A breeze blows across the pond. You squint, the hairs on your neck bristling, clearly feeling the cold. Sylus' gaze falters.

Linkon City isn't as cold as the mountains. You're only wearing a thin coat, no match for the freezing temperatures at higher altitude.

Sensing a softening in his gaze, you take the opportunity to step towards him. Sylus takes a step back. You pause, forcing a bitter smile. "You want me to freeze to death?"

Sylus remains silent.

You keep walking towards him. He doesn't back down, only stepping back when you lift your arms to give him a hug. "We'll talk inside," he says, turning and going into the house. Passing your broken phone, he bends over to pick it up. You pause for a moment before lowering your arms and follow him inside.

You sit down facing each other.

"What brings you here?" Sylus asks. He doesn't look at you, instead working on retrieving the SIM card from your phone. "Sylus, look at me." You say. Sylus hesitates, then lifts his gaze. "What?" "Sylus, what would you do if I told you I can't hold on for much longer?"

He freezes. When he speaks again, his words are curt, as if his brain was short-circuiting, unable to process the information at hand. "You... you can't..." You know what he's going to say. "I'm not lying to you." You smile, voice strained. "I really don't want to hold on for much longer." "Why?! You said... you still have..." Sylus pauses, realizing something. "Is it.. is it because your grandmother passed away?" You reply calmly, "If she didn't pass away, I could have held on for much longer. But she's gone now. I can't do it anymore."

The house is warm, but Sylus feels a chill run down his spine.

He remembers the letter your grandma gave him. "Sylus, if one day, Y/N comes back and tells you she can't hold on any longer, please, make a promise with her... I've thought of many possibilities, good and bad. If news comes from afar, use this money to go see her one last time."

Good news: you'd survive, fall in love, and get married. He'll go to your wedding to see you one last time before ending his own cursed life.

Bad news: you've passed away, then he'll go die with you.

Sylus takes a deep breath, suppressing the suffocating feeling in his chest. He looks at you intently. After a long time, he finally opens his mouth.

"Let's make a promise." "What promise?" You're intrigued. "If you haven't met a person that makes you want to continue on by the time you're... 24."

His adams apple bobs, the veins on his neck bulging as if he's desperately holding back some emotion.

"Come back here, and I'll die with you."

25. Fireworks continue to bloom outside the window, firecrackers crackling incessantly, yet you feel a sudden, eerie silence around you, save for Sylus' words echoing repeatedly in your ears: "Come back, and I'll die with you."

Suddenly, you laugh. "Okay." "But under one condition." Sylus hardens his gaze, "Until you turn 24, you can't come back here, no matter what."

He emphasizes the last three words.

You agree easily. "I understand." "If you break your promise again..." Sylus starts, but then hesitates, unsure how to continue. Finally, he could only weakly say, "Don't break your promise, I beg you." "I won't." "And one more thing." He clenches his fists, "You must, you absolutely must do everything you can to hold on until then." You smile, "With this promise, I'll do anything."

Looking at your smile, Sylus suddenly feels as if he's fallen into a trap, yet he also couldn't imagine using you going back on a promise like this.

"Sylus," you call out to him, yawning, "I'm sleepy." "It's New Year's Eve today, aren't you staying up all night?" he asks casually, his thoughts still somewhat scattered.

You smile at him, siting down on his sofa, and reach out to hug him, resting your chin on his shoulder. "I don't want to stay up, I just want to watch you sleep." You clasp your hands around him tightly.

Sylus turns his face away, but gives up on removing your hands. "Do you think I'd let you sleep with me?" "Very likely." "Impossible," he says firmly. "Say that again while looking at me this time."

Sylus turns around, ready to repeat himself, when you lean forward and kiss him.

You want to make sure he doesn't say a single word.

Sylus initially manages to control himself, but his restraint could only last so long. When it comes to you, he would always inevitably succumb. His kiss is fierce, almost aggressive, as if trying to brand the kiss deep into your bones. You feel as if he's stealing all the air from your lungs, yet you kiss him back with reckless abandon.

He finally breaks it off, watching you gasp. "You know, I don't actually... sleep."

From the moment Sylus saw you, he knew that he'd be powerless against you. Love is something you always want to control, but can't.

26. That night the two of you let go of all control, staying up the whole time, only falling asleep in each other's arms at dawn. When you wake up, it's already afternoon. You would've slept for a bit longer, but your stomach growls in protest. Sylus gets up to cook for you instead.

By the time you go downstairs, Sylus is nearly done. You wander into the kitchen, drawn in by the smell. Watching him busy in the kitchen, you feel as if you've returned to last summer. Leaning against the door as you observe the light dance across his hair, it's almost like you reached the end of time. You desperately wish that time could stop in this moment, never to move forward again.

Your footsteps are light, but Sylus heard the moment you got out of bed. He turns around with the dishes in his hand.

"I was going to bring this up for you." You smile, "My legs are sore, but not bad to the point I can't get out of bed. You haven't been that bad to me." Sylus chuckles, "I see."

His smile holds something deeper.

You look over at him with interest. "I thought you were going to pull up your pants and then act all cold and chase me away." Sylus' eyes darken slightly, before he says softly. "I won't chase you away." You raise an eyebrow. "Really? Have you finally realized?"

That it's pointless?

Sylus knows you have no intention of loving anyone else. But he still hoped that you wouldn't come back six years later. "Think what you want," he says, taking the dishes to the table. "I'm not going to kick you out, but don't linger for too long." Putting the dishes on the table, Sylus turns to look at you. "Come and eat.” “Coming.”

Just then, as if drawn by the aroma, Dragon jumps onto the table. You reach out to touch her, but your gaze drifts to the window, remembering the butterflies from last summer.

When Sylus returns with a bowl of rice for you, you ask, "Can I go see the Cypress grove one more time?" "Okay."

It's very windy outside. You head out wrapped in Sylus' wool coat, it's sleeves too long for you, and the hem nearly dragging on the ground. Sylus holds your hand the entire time, his hand buried in the sleeve.

Once you veer off the mountain path, the route becomes less familiar.

In the summer, the sky was blue, the grass green, the atmosphere exceptionally beautiful. Now, only a serene, undisturbed layer of snow. You can't help but feel sad. So much time had passed, along with your grandmother.

Your eyes are downcast when suddenly, a snowflake lands on your nose. "It's snowing," Sylus says from beside you.

You look up.

From your memory, the last time you saw snow was when you were a child. You don't remember your age, but only that your family was still alive then. Back then, you loved the snow. You gaze at the falling snowflakes, reaching out to catch one, quietly watching them fall into your palm and melt.

"I'll leave after this snowfall," you say. Sylus seems almost taken aback. "I thought you'd stay a little longer." "Do you want me to stay longer?" "No," Sylus shakes his head.

You smile, knowing he'd answer that way.

You aren't sad. Still smiling, you turn to him. "I won't stay long this time, it's not like I'm going to die with you the first day I come back after six years." You pause. "We still have time." There's still time to love each other.

Sylus doesn't speak, silently watching the snow fall with you.

You continue. "After I turn 24, let's wait until the winter to die. I heard that when you die, time will forever stop in that moment. I love snow. If we die on a snowy day, the snowfall won't end." And you'll never leave again. You'll be together forever in that snowstorm.

This time, you leave with a smile, just like the first day you met. You knew you'll meet again, so you smile and look forward to that day.

After you leave, Sylus cries. He stands in front of the cypress tree, praying to whatever is out there for someone, anyone, to save you.

That spring, after the cypress blossoms once again create a thin white mist, Mephisto tells Sylus he was admitted to Linkon University. At the end of August, Sylus sees Mephisto off on his way to school.

"Don't worry about things back here, you'll always have myself and the twins." "Boss... thank you, you've helped me so much. I don't know how to repay you for everything." Mephisto sniffles. "If Y/N asks about me, don't say anything. That's all I ask for." Sylus says. Mephisto nods, "Alright. I won't tell." "Also, please try to persuade her." "About what?"

Sylus doesn't tell him about his pact with you about turning 24, only saying, "persuade her to live a good life and make more friends." "Alright."

Mephisto has never left the mountain since he could remember. Up in the village, there are no buses, no trains, no subways. After arriving in Linkon City, it takes a while for him to adjust. The city is too big for him, and Linkon University was much larger than he imaged.

27. In a campus as large Linkon University's, it's hard to see even someone you know if you're not in the same major. Moreover, Mephisto didn't know what you are studying. He didn't think he'd find you again, yet he also felt certain that he would. Wherever he was, Mephisto is always looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere.

As summer turned to autumn, then winter, he keeps going.

Finally, on a cold, rainy, winter evening, he sees your familiar figure. Even if it's just a fleeting glance around a corner, he immediately runs over to you without hesitation.

As he sees you walk towards the dorms, he calls out, "Y/N!" You turn around to see the boy in front of you, soaked but still smiling with bright teeth. "It's really you!" You blink, seemingly in a daze, before finally opening your mouth, "Mephisto."

You take him back to your dorm to dry himself off and brew him some ginger tea. "Sit down and drink this." "Thank you, Y/N!" Mephisto sits down across from you. "You got into Linkon University?" you ask. "Yes," he nods. "Why didn't you tell me?" Mephisto subconsciously touches the back of his neck. "I didn't know how to contact you." "Sylus knows." "Oh..." Mephisto doesn't know how to reply. "What does he do everyday now?" You ask. Mephisto had promised Sylus he wouldn't mention him, so he simply says, "I don't know either." You chuckle, "did Sylus forbid you to mention him to me?"

Mephisto doesn't know whether he should tell you the truth of not, apprehension visibly obvious in the way he shifts his eyes. He wants to insist not, but when he looks up to see your clear eyes that seem to see right through him, he swallows the words he's about to say, finally nodding while avoiding your gaze.

You pick up a cup of hot water, taking a sip, and slowly puts down the cup. You say unhurriedly, "Did Sylus tell you I made a pact with him? If I haven't met anyone else I like by the time I turn 24, I'll go back to the mountains and die with him."

Mephisto's eyes widen.

You continue calmly, "I've never considered falling in love with anyone else, nor do I think I can. I'm just holding on until I'm 24 to go back to him. So whether you tell me or not, the result will still be the same. But if you can let me know how he's doing, I can at least be a little happier in the meantime."

"Y/N..." Mephisto whispers. "Although I don't know why you have such negative thoughts..." "Mephisto," you interrupt, asking him a question, "what do you think is the difference between humans and other animals?"

Mephisto doesn't know where you're going with this question.

"Humans have a will that will go against their instincts." You have no intention of waiting for an answer, stating your own conclusion first. "Animals can't go against their instinct to survive, but as humans, we can. I will only live to a certain age anyways, but I can choose to go when I want, according to my own will."

Mephisto doesn't know how to refute you, but he still finds it hard to accept.

"Don't look so gloomly," you casually lean against the softa, tilting your head slightly. "You look quite handsome when you smile, so make sure to smile more."

Mephisto knows he can't change your mind overnight, so he might as well... let you be happy.

He supresses his emotions and raises the corners of his lips, trying to smile- "Forget it, you look worse than if you cry." You stand up and head to the kitchenette.

"You good with some ramen?"

During the meal, Mephisto thinks over what you told him, silently whispering an apology to Sylus in his heart. He then tells you the story of how he met Sylus as an orphan in the mountains when he was young. He tells you about the time Sylus fought three creatures people at once and held his own - he was so impressive! He also told you that Sylus was really good at skipping tones, they were like shooting stars across the pond. He also said that there was a girl from the town at the bottom of the mountain who once chased Sylus up to the village, and Sylus ended up claiming to be gay and using him as shield, hence why the other boys picked on him so much... and so on.

You listen with amusement, a smile finally gracing your face.

28. After that dinner, you add Mephisto to your contacts.

He frequently makes plans with you, sometimes to grab something to eat, other times to go for walks, bike rides, or kite-flying. Sometimes, he'd bring along handsome guys from his department, subtly trying to set you up. Like Sylus, he hoped that you'd eventually fall for someone else and not go back to the mountain to find him.

Mephisto brought a camera around with him, and would take photos to send to Sylus, reassuring him you were doing well and making friends. To give Sylus some sense of comfort, you'd reluctantly put on a smile, and Mephisto would smile along.

But his smile froze in the winter of the following year.

That winter, Sylus continued his daily routine in the mountains: tutoring children at the library on weekends, visiting the retirement home at noon, going to the cypress grove in the afternoon, and spending the evening playing with his cat and looking at the photos Mephisto sent him. He genuinely wished that you'd find someone else, but he couldn't help but feel a sting whenever he saw you in photos with other boys.

One day, he returns home from the cypress grove as usual, arriving after dark. Sitting at his empty dinner table alone, he suddenly feels a sharp pain in his gut, an uncontrollable surge of nausea rising up into his throat.

He immediately covers his mouth and rushes to the bathroom, vomiting violently into the toilet. His stomach churns on nothing, but he feels so nauseous he can't open his eyes, and his head spins wildly. After an unknown amount of time, he feels as if he'd blacked out, all other senses were gone. He finally loses consciousness, body convulsing as he collapses to the side.

When he wakes up, the world is still spinning. Feeling dizzy, he struggles to sit up, but the next second, he snaps to attention as he sees a pool of dark red, still-wet blood before him.

Stomach still cramping, he leans against the wall as he endures the pain to return to the living room. He tries to pick up his phone to call the twins, but his arms were too weak to support any weight. He collapses onto the couch, and closes his eyes.

In the past, he would've gladly died, but now, he's made a promise to you. He has to wait for you.

He knew his spirit would fade at some point, but couldn't think of why his health would take such a sudden spiral. The stomach is an organ of emotions. His condition might not have seemed that serious in the beginning, but since you left, his symptoms had worsened dramatically with his longing for you.

After taking a few deep breaths, he picks up the phone and dials a number.

After hanging up, he lies back down, feeling utterly weak. He doesn't know how much time has passed when he hears a car outside. It's the twins, bringing a shaman with them.

The shaman doesn't carry any diagnostic equipment, merely asking about his symptoms. He then takes out a few scrolls, and instructs him to light them at specific times at night. He then leaves, with only Sylus and the twins remaining.

The wind howls outside, the dim room silent. Sylus feels cold, his eyelids heavy. Luke and Kieran could only stare at him sadly.

"Boss... You... you really can't keep going on like this." Luke feels a lump in his throat. "Would you please consider-" "No." Sylus cuts him off deftly. "I will not have anyone else die because of me. My birth was a curse, one which I will end myself."

He looks at the scrolls on the table. He then tilts his head slightly, staring at the vast villa around him, and a cold smile slowly spreads across his lips. Now, he only hopes that the scrolls would really work.

Enduring the pain, he takes the scrolls upstairs. For the next two days, he doesn't get out of bed. His symptoms show no significant improvement, still in pain with the slightest movement. On the third day, he vomits blood again, this time, so weak afterwards that he couldn't return to his room. Leaning against the wall, he closes his eyes to catch his breath. He recalls what the creature he should call his father had told him at this time last year: "If you really want to die, then go ahead and do it." They genuinely wanted him dead.

Thankfully for them, if he went on like this, it wouldn't be long before he did.

"Y/N." He softly calls out your name to the empty room. He smiles, but a single tear glides down his cheek. "What should I do? I think... I'm going to break my promise."

The room falls silent again.

After a long while, he slowly takes out his phone and sends Mephisto a text message:

[Mephisto, can you come back tomorrow? I'm sick and would have to trouble you to take care of me for a couple days.]

From Linkon City, to take the train, then transfer to a bus to the foot of the mountain, then get a taxi up to the village, it'd take a little over four hours total.

Mephisto arrives shortly after noon.

Arriving at Sylus' house, Mephisto gasps seeing Sylus' pale face, nearly devoid of any color. He immediately tries to bring him to the hospital, but Sylus stops him, saying, "they won't be able to do anything. These scrolls should be enough. The shaman wrote them for me."

Mesphisto is very worried, but he knows there's nothing he can do. He offers to stay and watch over him for the night, but Sylus insists that he goes back to town to grab something to eat. As Sylus speaks, he takes something from under the covers and puts it in Mephisto's pocket.

Looking into his unfathomable eyes, Mephisto remains silent, his heart pounding. "Then... boss, I'll... I'll be going." His voice trembles slightly. "See you." Sylus' tone is casual as always. "See you tomorrow." Mephisto does his best to control his emotions.

Leaving the villa, Mephisto hurries home. On the path outside his house, he takes out what Sylus had given him earlier, using his phone's flashlight to illuminate it.

In his hand is a wad of cash, a folded piece of paper, and a key. He unfolds the paper, his hand shaking. He has a very bad feeling about this.

The paper reads:

[Mephisto, I don't know how much time I have left, so I want to see Y/N. Find a taxi, take this money, and have him pick me up at 3 AM tonight. Tell him I need to go to the cross-river bridge next to Linkon University. Also, could you please arrange for Y/N to meet me? Tell her to go to the dessert shop in the photo you sent me last weekend at 8am tomorrow. But don't tell her I'm going there. Just say you have something important to tell her in person and ask her to wait for you until 10. If—and I mean if—I don't come back tomorrow, could you please take this key and bring Dragon out? Find her a good home. It's so beautiful; plent of people should be willing to adopt it. As for Y/N, you know I made a promise with her for five years from now. No matter what, I hope she'll at least... at the very least, live well until then. I'm so sorry, I probably won't be able to be here for you anymore. The days ahead may be tough, but please hang in there. Your tomorrow will be bright. If you can do what I've said, send me a text message and ask if I'm asleep.]

The winter night is quiet, with only the sound of wind whistling through the bare trees branches.

A text message notification sounds exceptionally clear in the silent room. Sylus' phone lights up with a message:

[Sylus, are you asleep?]

He looks at the notification, a smile appearing on his pale face.

At three in the morning, the sound of a car driving over the road son the deserted mountain path, its headlights illuminating the distant clouds. Clutching his stomach, Sylus slowly makes his way out. As he reaches the road, the car pulls up. Sitting in the backseat, he turns his head, "Driver, let's go." The car starts and begins heading downhill.

It's still early before dawn, the sky pitch black. Sylus leans back in his seat, eyes open, quietly gazing at the handful of sparse stars in the night sky.

29. After descending the mountain, bypassing the town, and heading straight for the highway, the sky gradually lightens, the fields and houses on both sides of the road appearing into view.

Looking at the unfamiliar scenery, Sylus' eyes seems to brighten with the dawn, despite feeling his body weaken the further he goes from the mountain. It takes nearly five hours to get to Linkon City without traffic. During rush hour, at least seven. Because they left early, the driver brings Sylus directly to the bridge in four and a half. Stopping on the bridge is not allowed, so Sylus gets off at the bridgehead and slowly makes his way to the middle.

Winter in Linkon city isn't that cold, but Sylus wraps himself securely in a scarf, leaving only his eyes exposed.

It's about quarter to eight o'clock; there's still no one outside the dessert shop along the riverbank near the bridge. Sylus looks into the distance, where the river flowing beneath the bridge merges into the sea.

The wind blows from the sea, following the river's surface.

Sylus pulls down a bit of his scarf to take a deep breath of the sea air. He longs for the sky and the water. The sky symbolized freedom, while the sea was his dream.

He's caught glimpses of the sea since childhood, yet he's never been there in his centuries of existence.

He gazes at the horizon until a familiar figure appears in his peripheral vision. You arrive at the dessert shop.

The dessert shop isn't open yet, so you can only sit on a bench outside. All the stores nearby are closed, and there's only few people on the street, with the occasional car passing by.

You look around the street, glancing by the river. You naturally notice a figure standing on the bridge, but don't pay it any attention, gaze drifting over before staring blankly into the distance. You don't know that the person is watching you, watching you all along.

Sylus traces your face with his eyes again and again, calling that name in his heart over and over again: "Y/N... Y/N... Y/N.." "Every time I call your name, it's saying, 'I love you.'" He still remembers the way you smile when he says those words.

Unfortunately, he can no longer call your name.

Two hours pass quickly. You receive a phone call and get up to leave.

Sylus' gaze follows your figure until you completely disappear from his sight.

That's enough. He's content to get to see you for so long.

Sylus looks up, removing his hat, then his scarf. Just as he is about to take off his coat, two familiar cars appear at the bridgehead with several people getting out. Watching them walk towards him angrily, Sylus narrows his eyes. They had arrived much faster than he expected, but thankfully, not too fast.

Sylus smiles. He takes off his heavy coat to stand on the railing of the bridge. He opens his arms, and with a smile, falls down, as if embracing freedom.

A huge splash erupts on the lake's surface.

After falling into the water, Sylus doesn't surface. He swims towards the deepest part of the water.

He had lied to Mephisto after all. This time, he has no intention of going back. He doesn't want to die in that mountain.

He swims and swims… He wants to go deeper, and deeper still, until no one can find him, and then let the river carry him to the sea... never to return. Finally, all his strength leaves him. He closes his eyes, letting the icy river water rush into his body.

His consciousness begins to blur… Sylus can no longer feel the suffocating pain, just his body slowly sinking. Death seems to be just ahead, and then, in a daze, he thinks he hears your voice, calling his name.

He doesn't have the strength to open his eyes again, but the face is still in his sight.

It's just a hallucination. He smiles. A hallucination is fine.

“Y/N.” He likes to call your name before speaking. "You know, I'm happy to die in the city where you are. You'll never know."

Because I'm about to die.

"Hey, Y/N. Live well. Find someone else to love, and don't come looking for me at the mountain. I'm not there anymore." After saying this, he sees his own reflection before him.

He suddenly understands.

It's not a hallucination, but the legendary replay of memories that occurs right before a person dies. He sees the two of you standing by the cliff. He sees the two of you running through the woods and across the mountains. He sees the two of you standing under a jacaranda tree, petals falling to the ground. He sees the two of you embracing and kissing in the evening breeze, you handing him a bouquet of flowers.

The memory ends with you standing on the hillside, asking him: “Will we meet again?”

Will we meet again?

He thinks for a moment.

Yes.I will become the wind, embracing you every night.

30. Since the time Mephisto stood you up at the dessert shop, you don't see him again until the following spring.

That time he invited you out, he kept saying you'd regret it if you didn't go. Otherwise, you never would've gone to the riverbank so early in the morning to stand in the cold wind for such a long time.

As you were leaving, you asked Mephisto why he insisted you to come here. He simply said that he found a guy who looked a lot like Sylus, but he was only free in the mornings, so he set up the date so early. Unfortunately, the guy first said there was traffic, then canceled on him.

Hearing this, you give Mephisto a good scolding, making it clear that you wouldn't tolerate this kind of behavior. Mephisto, being as good natured as he was, apologized and promised to treat you to a meal when he had time. But after that, he doesn't contact you again.

By that time, there was only a few weeks until spring break, so you assume Mephisto was overwhelmed with midterms, not noticing anything amiss.

Coming back to school, Mephisto continues to ask you to come out every week, but often didn't show up himself, leaving you alone with other boys. You assume he found a new tactic to set you up with other people and don't take his unusual behavior seriously.

It's not until you finally spend some time with him alone that you belatedly realize something is incredibly wrong with Mephisto. He's not the same as before. He used to be such a cheerful person.

31. Given your personality, you can't help but ask directly after noticing this shift.

"Mephisto, why don't you smile anymore?" Panic flashes across his eyes "Is...is it?" "Yes."

Mephisto lowers his eyes, his dark eyelashes concealing emotions that are hard to hide, but you can easily see that he is deeply troubled.

You don't have a particular penchant for prying into other people's sorrows. Since Mephisto hasn't mentioned anything, you assume he doesn't want to talk about it, so you try to casually change the subject and move on.

However, starting from that spring, through summer, fall, and yet another winter, Mephisto still doesn't smile like he did before. Previously, his eyebrows and eyes sparkle as if bathed in sunlight. Now, even when he does give you the occasional smile, his eyes always seem to be tinged with sadness.

You think maybe it is because he is homesick, missing Sylus and the twins, and because he works many part-time jobs. With this guess in mind, you remind him he can always ask you for any help, and that he can stop trying to keep setting her up with other people.

"Don't feel pressured because of me. When you have time to go home, just tell Sylus that you're busy with work and school. I really don't think he'd be happy to hear that I'm with another guy anyways."

Hearing you suddenly mention Sylus, Mephisto finally breaks down, struggling but failing to hold back the tears welling up in his eyes.

Seeing his bloodshot eyes, you feel a little lost. Does he really miss home that much? Back then, he didn't even show this much grief when you told him you wanted to die with Sylus.

After thinking for a moment, you guess that Mephisto must have finally realized the extent of your resolve, explaining his apparent despair.

You sigh and place a hand on his back, patting him comfortingly.

"I told you a long time ago, I can't love anyone else. I only cooperated with you before so that Sylus would know that even if I tried to go meet other people, I'd still only have eyes for him. That way, he'd feel better so when I turn 24 and go back, he'll be more comforted during our last moments together."

At this point, Mephisto can't stop himself anymore, large tears streaming down his face.

Helplessly, you hand him a tissue. "Don't cry, Mephisto. Life isn't about how long you live, it's about the gains and losses. This is the best ending I could think for him, and for myself."

"But..." Mephisto chokes back sobs. But Sylus is already gone... "There are no buts!" you say. He shakes his head, "I can't just watch you die..." His voice is too hoarse to continue. You already know what he's going to say: that he couldn't bear to watch you wait to die. "Can't you try to move on?" Mephisto grabs your arm, his voice breaking as he pleads, "I beg you..." Your expression is calm, unwavering. "I know you want to help me, but please understand, everyone has their own way of living. This is how I choose to spend my time on earth. Not everyone has to face the sun. You have to allow some to walk into the shadows; that's what they yearn for."

Mephisto falls silent, sobbing quietly.

You know that Sylus entrusted you to Mephisto, so you understand his grief. But what you didn't know was that the ending you longed for, earnestly awaited, was already impossible to achieve. You wouldn't be able to die with Sylus Qin.

You knew nothing, nothing at all, believing Sylus was still alive, thinking of you, and waiting for you to return.

32. Winter arrives in a flash.

In the classroom, the teacher stands on the podium lecturing; the content is probably something dry, as students below are dozing off.

Suddenly, the tightly closed window hums—the wind is picking up. You glance out the windows to look at the shadows of the trees swaying in the wind.

Outside this school building is a grove of cypress trees, where cicadas always chirp incessantly in the summer. In this deep winter, you stare at the barren branches, the cry of cicadas still loud in your ears. You no longer get tinnitus, but every winter you still hear those cicada chirps that only exist in your mind.

In the brief moment you drift into thought, the bell rings, signaling the end of class.

There's nothing else on your schedule for the day. When you don't have classes, you usually go back to your apartment to paint. Over the last two years, you made so many paintings that your own place couldn't store it all, so you rented a storage unit specifically for your art. The subjects were usually landscapes, mountains, cliffs, but most often... Sylus. Every day, you'd walk around there. Each time you pass by the paintings, memories would flash before your eyes like a revolving lantern, the face that only exists in your mind would come to life before you. It's the happiest moment of your day.

Stepping out of the teaching building, a gust of wind blows against your face. You stop, waiting for the wind to ruffle your hair. The wind doesn't stop, and you don't move.

Two girls stand nearby, sheltered from the wind, seemingly waiting for someone. Standing close, you can overhear their conversation: "MC! You posted pictures of your cat, Dragon, on your Moments again." "I can't help it... Dragon is just too beautiful." "True... her looks are top-tier even amongst Ragdolls!" "That's right." Dragon...? Ragdoll cat...

You're struck by a devastating bought of tinnitus. The ringing so loud your whole body feels numb.

This can't be a coincidence.

You want to immediately snatch the girl's phone to confirm if the "Dragon" the were talking about is actually Sylus' cat, but your legs suddenly feel like lead. Several moments pass before you're able to move a single step, and then, like a robot with rusted parts, you stiffly make your way over.

"Hello, may I see a picture of your cat?" You can barely contain the tremor in your voice. Seeing you look like as if you'd shatter at any second, the girl hurriedly shows you the photo. "Are you Dragon's original owner?" You look at the cat on the screen. It's exactly like the one in your memory. Your eyes instantly blur with tears.

How could Sylus give Dragon away? She's his most loyal companion... unless...

"I adopted her," the girl offers when you don't reply. You look up sharply. "From who?" The girl hesitates for a second, unsure how to answer. "Sylus? Sylus Qin?" You ask directly. The girl shakes her head. "Then..." you frown. "Mephisto...?" The girl nods slowly.

"Thank you." You walk away, posture still somewhat awkward, as if your limbs are refusing to obey your commands. It takes you a while to pluck your phone out from your bag.

You immediately call Mephisto.

He picks up quickly, and you don't even wait for a greeting on the other end, blurting out, "come to my place, now!" You practically shout the last three words, then hang up abruptly as you keep walking. Your entire body is tensed, the piercing ringing in your ears tearing at your nerves.

Not long after you get home, Mephisto arrives as well. Mephisto already knows what happened; the girl that adopted Dragon had called him.

Your door is unlocked, and you sit on the sofa facing the entrance.

Mephisto ran all the way here without stopping, not daring to catch his breath. He doesn't know how to tell you, only weakly managing to say, "Y/N..." You simply stare at him. "Either you tell me what happened or I go back to Azure mountain right now. You choose." "Sister Y/N..." "Don't say my name. I'm giving you one chance to talk." Your voice is terrifyingly calm. "What happened to Sylus? And why was Dragon sent away?" "Boss... he..." Mephisto couldn't speak, his voice trembling violently. "Don't tell me..."

You couldn't utter a complete sentence either, your voice like shattered pieces of glass.

"Don't tell me he's dead." Mephisto doesn't confirm nor deny, but his tear-filled eyes give you the answer. A single tear slides down your cheek.

You grip the sofa tightly, your nails nearly splintering from the force, but you feel no pain. The heartache is a thousand times worse, the pain so intense it makes breathing difficult.

"How did he die?" you ask, enduring the agonizing pain in your heart. "He was sick." Mephisto doesn't tell you that he had tried to come see you, that he died in the same city where you are.

Your face collapses into confusion. You don't understand why fate has to play such a cruel trick on you. Why? Why was it so hard to even die by his side?

"Do you know where his grave is?" you ask. “I know.” You stand up shakily. “Take me there now.” Mephisto runs over and supports you as your legs nearly give out. “I’ll take you, I’ll take you.”

“Wait.” You suddenly stop before you reach the door. “Is there anything strange about his grave?”

Mesphisto's expression freezes, seemingly puzzled as to why you would ask such a question. Sylus' grave does indeed have something strange about it, but you couldn't have seen it before.

“It is a little strange,” he answers truthfully. Your hand on his arm tightens as you hear the words. Your voice comes out strained. “How is it strange?” “His grave has many rune patterns carved on it, and there are six seals around the grave.”

You close your eyes. Sure enough.

Another piercing ringing courses through your nerves.

Your first bought of tinnitus occurred two years ago, on an autumn evening shortly after you left Azure Mountain.

That day, you visited a very famous fortune-teller. After telling the her about Sylus' situation, the the old lady asks you, "Since you've found me, you must have heard of ancient folklore and the sacrifices of witchcraft common in the mountains?" You nod.

She sighs, fingers sifting through the box of dark sand before she continues, “What you're describing is similar. Your friend seems to be... an unfortunate child. Since birth, he belongs between worlds, but unable to survive in either of them... His cursed energy feeds the spirits of everything around him, but he cannot survive on mortal sustenance alone; only the blood of sacrifices can nourish him. As for why he can't leave the mountain... let me give you a simple analogy: your friend is a god of wealth, and the mountain is the his shrine. Of course the inhabitants on the mountain won't let him go." “Is there any way to convince them so that he is able to leave the mountain?” you ask. The old woman shakes her head. “The environment shapes the people. They've kept him there for far too long, there's no way they'll change their minds now. But in reality, even if he leaves the mountain, they'll still prosper. What truly holds him back isn't his destiny, but his heart.” She sighs, "Your friend might be trapped on that mountain with a soul-locking array. Even in death, he'll be unable to pass on, forever feeding their greed. If that's the case, the only way to release him is to break the array."

So, back then, you had lied to Sylus. You would endure it, even if it meant your own death, fearing it would really be what the fortune-teller had said; that he would be trapped on that mountain until his death and after.

Now that it has been proven true.... You would give him his freedom.

33. It's three in the afternoon when you arrive at Azure Mountain. The climate up here is much colder than Linkon city, but you're oblivious to the change in temperature, your face expressionless.

Mephisto leads you to Sylus' grave.

Looking at the runes on the grave and the six eerie seals, you feel a chill. You clench your fists, saying nothing, but snatch the small drill you brought from your house. Holding it steady with both hands, you press the on button without hesitation.

The drill bit roars against the dirt before hitting something hard.

The cement crumbles and peels away, revealing a hollow chamber. Inside, there's no coffin, only a simple iron urn containing ashes. You take out the urn, hugging it to your chest, and quickly walk out of the cemetery.

You refuse to let Sylus stay there for even a second longer.

Following behind you, Mephisto, who has been silent the whole time, calls out to you. "Y/N." You stop. "Where are you going to take Sylus?" You don't answer, only saying, "the driver is still waiting on the road. Go back to Linkon city and pretend you never came here today."

With that, you continue walking.

"Sister Y/N!" Mephisto calls out. This time, you stop abruptly and turn around to stare at him, gaze hollow. "He was very weak then. He didn't know how much longer he had, so..." Mephisto chokes on his words. "So... he came to find you."

Your pupils dilate.

"When... when did he come to find me?" you ask. "Last year. When I called to you meet me at the dessert shop by the river. Sylus was on the bridge."

You've never been a crybaby, and you weren't intending to cry today. But at this moment, tears well up in your eyes uncontrollably.

You don't remember if you saw anyone on the bridge that day, but you do recall hearing someone had jumped into the river from the bridge on the news that night. Later, you heard that the man's father spent an enormous sum of money searching the river for days before finally recovering the body at where the river met the sea. People online discussed that the deceased family must have loved him very much, otherwise who would spend so much money to bring their child home?

Clearly, they didn't love him at all.

Because of his birth, which he had no choice in, they deprived him of his freedom, and locked him alone deep in the mountains for centuries. If they had loved him even a little, they wouldn't have refused to let him go even after he died.

Tears stream down your face uncontrollably, but you didn't cry for long.

Taking a few deep breaths, you wipe away your tears and look up at Mephisto, saying, "Mephisto, thank you for telling me everything." Mephisto is crying even harder than you, unable to form a full sentence between his hiccups. You force a wry smile onto your face, "come on, what kind of guy are you, crying like this?" He didn't want to cry either, but he couldn't help himself. "Don't cry, please. You should go back," you say softly. "I have to go as well." "Sister Y/N..." Mephisto's voice is hoarse, almost inaudible. "Go back and study hard, smile more, and spread your wings." Mephisto sobs uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. "Do you hear me?" Mephisto really couldn't talk anymore, he only nods. "I'll be leaving then." You smile at him one last time, then turn around and leave.

Mephisto doesn't follow. He stands there, his body gradually slumping as if all his strength had left him.

He knows what you're going to do.

34. The deep winter sky had always seemed gray, especially in the mountains, shrouded in a misty white fog, like an inescapable dream.

Carrying Sylus' ashes, you arrive at the place where you first met him.

Reaching the corner, your steps unconsciously slow down. Looking at the cliff, in a daze, you seem to see Sylus standing there. But the figure vanishes quickly, as if he had turned into the wind, and gone to the distant sea.

You blink once, slowly, then continue walking forward.

Stopping at the edge of the cliff, your gaze falls on the sea, as if recalling some stories about the ocean. After a long pause, you speak. "Sylus, I know you like coming here because of this sea. If you wait for me, I can take you there."

His choice to jump into the river was mostly likely in hopes that the river would carry him away, into the sea.

"I already saved up money for a boat. I'm just waiting for a snowy day to sail to the deepest part of the sea, and we'll jump in together." You smile. "That way, no one can find us, and no one can trap you anymore." "Unfortunately..."

Your voice drops, and your smile fades.

"You didn't wait for me." You lower your eyes, quietly gazing at the urn in your arms. "This time, you broke your promise first."

A gust of wind blows by.

35. The wind on the cliff usually blows head-on, but this gust comes from the mountain path, heading towards the sea.

You pause. Before the wind subsides, you open the urn, scooping up some ashes with one hand, and release it into the wind.

Watching them drift into the air, you smile. You can almost see... the wind of freedom piercing through his soul.

As if by some divine intervention, the wind only stops after all of Sylus' ashes have disappeared into the atmosphere. Watching the last of the ashes float away, you smile and whisper: "Sylus Qin, you are free".

He is finally free.

Now it's your turn.

"Sylus, have you ever heard the saying: the highest purpose of life is to die in freedom and love?" You gaze towards the sea, a smile playing on your lips. "You can die in freedom, and I'll die in love."

Grandma said that love can be an event, an object, or even a person. For you, he was love.

Grandma also said that suicide would send her to hell, so…

"Sylus, I'm coming to hell to join you." After saying this, you suddenly feel a chill on your nose. Thinking it's rain, you look up at the sky, and freeze.

Snowflakes fall heavily from the sky. It's snowing.

Everything seems like it was perfectly choreographed for this moment. You had been waiting for a never-ending snowfall.

A bird flies in from the swirling snow and perches on a tree on the cliff edge. You look down, your clear pupils reflecting the bird's image. "Sylus, you said I'm a bird, but did you know? The cliff is a bird's nest." You slowly walk towards the edge of the cliff.

Just then, a long gust of wind rises, like a kiss, gently brushing your face. It's a chilling gust, yet you feel warmth. It makes you think.

Sylus, is it you coming to take me away?

On the first day you met him, from your first sight, you felt that he was like the wind. Now, he truly has become the wind.

You smile, close your eyes, and open your arms to embrace it. Then. You leap.

The snow continues to fall, slowly floating to the bottom of the cliff. The wind finally dies down, but the snowstorm never stops. From then on, the snow falls endlessly.

He rests in the wind. You are buried by snow. Your god is forever free.

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