"People like us don't stay. We meet, we talk, and by morning, we're just another ghost on the road."
The fire burned low, casting long shadows against the stone ruins.
The night was quiet—too quiet.
Rei had spent years in places like this. Lonely roads, nameless outposts, temporary shelters. And yet, for the first time in a long time, he wasn't alone.
Ren sat across from him, her expression calm, unreadable, the firelight flickering in her amber eyes.
She wasn't what he expected.
But then again, he hadn't expected anything.
She wasn't delicate.
She was built like someone who had spent her life on the road—lean muscle, calloused hands, a quiet confidence in the way she carried herself.
Her hair was dark, pulled back in a loose braid, strands falling free where the wind had pulled them loose. Not elegant, not styled—practical.
Her cloak was worn, patched in places, the edges frayed from travel. Beneath it, she wore leather armor—reinforced but not bulky, built for movement rather than defense.
A sword rested beside her. Not pristine, not ornamental.
A fighter's weapon. One that had been used, sharpened, and used again.
She was neither holy nor damned.
Not a knight. Not an Exorcist. Not a Sinner.
Just... someone who had learned how to survive.
And that, more than anything, made Rei wary.
Because people like that?
They didn't fight for gods. They fought for themselves.
And they were always the hardest to predict.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
The fire crackled, sending embers drifting into the night sky.
Rei watched Ren. She watched him back.
Not with suspicion. Not with caution.
But with the quiet calculation of someone trying to decide if he was worth remembering.
She tilted her head slightly.
"You keep looking at me like I should be asking you something."
Rei exhaled, a slow, tired breath.
"Aren't you curious?"
"About what?"
"Who I am." He gestured vaguely to himself, his tattered coat, his broken armor, the dried blood staining his hands. "What I've done. What I am."
Ren shrugged.
"You said your name. That's enough for now."
Rei blinked.
She wasn't lying.
She wasn't testing him, wasn't trying to trap him in his own words.
She just... didn't care.
Or rather—she didn't need to care.
He wasn't a threat to her. Not now. Not like this.
And that was somehow the strangest part of all.
"You're different," he murmured.
Ren huffed out a soft laugh, shifting slightly to adjust her sword.
"You're not the first person to tell me that."
Rei studied her again.
She didn't move like someone who followed orders. Didn't speak like someone who belonged to any faction.
"So what are you, then?" he asked.
Ren leaned back against the stone wall, one knee bent, her fingers absently tapping against the hilt of her sword.
"I'm just passing through."
A vague answer.
A familiar answer.
The kind of answer someone gave when they had nowhere left to go.
The fire burned lower.
Rei should have left already.
That was how these things went.
Meet a stranger. Share a fire. Leave before morning.
No names. No connections. No reasons to remember each other.
But tonight, he didn't move.
Neither did Ren.
The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was steady.
And maybe that was the strangest part of all.
Because for the first time in years—
He wasn't running.