The girl stood frozen after Eadlyn released her hand, her breathing still shallow from the scare. Her features were delicate—soft brown hair, pale skin, and eyes that shimmered between recognition and disbelief.
"You okay?" Eadlyn asked, adjusting his scraped arm casually, though the sting pulsed beneath the surface.
She nodded, but her gaze lingered on him—too long, too intently.
Then she whispered, almost breathless,
"…Eddy?"
The name hit him like a distant bell he'd forgotten he once loved.
No one called him that anymore.
Only one person ever had.
He blinked. "Nino…?"
Her entire expression lit up. Relief, joy, nostalgia—all at once. She stepped closer, almost grabbing his shirt. "I knew it! I knew it was you. Eddy, it is you!"
Eadlyn's breath hitched—not from her closeness, but from the rush of memories he hadn't touched in years. Childhood summers in the UK. His parents meeting colleagues. Playdates in labs and gardens. A tiny girl who followed him everywhere, calling him "Eddy" like he was her entire world.
Now she stood in front of him again—older, prettier, but unmistakably the same.
They began walking slowly, as if afraid to break the moment.
"You disappeared," Nino said softly. "Your family moved without warning. When I heard rumors you came to Japan, I didn't believe it."
"Yeah," Eadlyn replied. "A lot happened. But… it's really you."
Nino smiled, her fingers brushing his arm lightly—not flirtatious, just familiar. "You grew tall. I remember you being small and cute."
"I'll ignore the 'small' part."
She giggled.
A Bond Not Born for Romance—But Something Else
As they walked, Nino stuck close to him, occasionally clinging to his sleeve. Her warmth was nostalgic in a way he didn't expect.
He reflected quietly:
Some childhood bonds don't become romance. And they don't need to. They become reference points—teaching you how connection works, how comfort feels, how relationships are built.
Most people mistake childhood ties for destined love. But sometimes they exist to shape the way you understand people, not the way you date them.
Nino looked up at him. "Were you scared back there?"
"Only for you," he answered honestly.
Her cheeks reddened slightly, though her voice stayed playful. "Still the cool senpai, huh?"
"Don't call me senpai. We're the same age now, aren't we?"
"Actually…" She pouted. "I'm a year younger. Class 1C."
Eadlyn blinked. "How? When did you catch up?"
She flipped her hair proudly. "Skipped a grade when I transferred. Genius-level charm, you know?"
He snorted. "Charm counts as a skill now?"
"It does if I say so."
A Dangerous Glint
At one point, Nino asked casually, "So… who were you with on that trip? You mentioned a group?"
Eadlyn told her about Rin, Manami, and Ken—the waterfall, the games, the stargazing.
The moment he mentioned "two girls," something sharp flickered in her gaze. Not jealousy—something more instinctive, territorial, protective. It vanished in seconds, replaced by her usual softness, but Eadlyn caught it.
Whatever she felt toward him wasn't simple nostalgia.
Neighbors Once Again
When they finally reached the street where she lived, Nino's eyes widened.
"You're staying in this area?"
"Yeah. My grandparents' place."
She pointed two blocks away. "I live right there. We're neighbors again."
He exhaled a stunned laugh. "Small world."
"Or big fate," she corrected, smiling mischievously.
They exchanged contacts, though she acted like it wasn't necessary—like she had no intention of letting him disappear again.
"See you soon, Eddy," she said, waving as she stepped into her yard.
The childhood nickname lingered in the air long after she left.
The Hidden Observer
As Eadlyn turned toward home, unaware of anything except his thoughts, a curtain shifted from a nearby window.
A sharp, amused voice murmured,
"Interesting."
The Student Council President—Sayaka's best friend—had been watching.
Her eyes narrowed, lips curving into a teasing smile.
"So that's the boy Sayaka's been spending time with."
The game, it seemed, had just gained a new player.