10 October 2170 – 6:30 p.m.

The evening streets glowed with ribbons of light woven through the walkways, guiding people toward the park.

Takara walked beside Zenobia, humming softly as she went.

Zenobia trailed a step behind, hands clasped before her, eyes catching every shimmer of the bioluminescent lamps that bloomed brighter as night deepened.

“Every time I come here, I forget how pretty it is,” Takara said with a smile, brushing her hair back as they turned the corner.

“It feels… peaceful,” Zenobia murmured. “Like nothing bad could ever happen here.”

Ahead, the park’s gates arched high — lattices of crystalline vines glowing soft blue and gold. Families and friends filed through, laughter and joy carrying on the warm air.

At the gate, uniformed attendants greeted passersbys with polished smiles. One of them brightened when his gaze found Takara. He hurried forward, bowing slightly.

“Ah, Ms. Koizumi! A sunny welcome! An honor to have you here this evening. Please, enjoy the Sun Circles.”

She smiled politely. “Thank you. But really, no need for the formalities. I’m here to enjoy the evening like everyone else.”

“Of course, of course.” His eyes shifted to Zenobia, softening. “And how heart-warming, to see even citizens of other nations participating. Please enjoy yourself as well, miss.”

She froze. Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her gaze dropped to the ground.

Takara caught it instantly. Her smile thinned; her voice turned gentle.

“Ah—actually, she’s Sunese. Mixed heritage, not Freyan indigenous like me.”

The worker paled. “My deepest apologies — no offense intended. You look very lovely, truly. It was only surprising, that’s all.”

Takara waved it off, her tone gracious yet firm. “Don’t worry. Honest mistake. We’ll be on our way — thank you.”

They stepped through the gates. The bioluminescent grass brightened underfoot, casting their shadows long. She glanced at Zenobia, whose shoulders were still tight.

“…No one ever recognizes me as Sunese first,” she whispered.

Takara’s expression softened. “Don’t dwell on it. You belong, Zenobia. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Zenobia’s chest eased. The words lingered, fragile but warm. For the first time that evening, she lifted her chin and let the sunset’s glow touch her eyes.

Ahead, a familiar voice called out.

“Oi! You’re late.”

Mirai lounged lazily on the grass, while Saiya sat opposite, arms crossed over an untouched picnic spread. Issan adjusted his glasses with precise calm. Takara smiled — her place already waiting within the circle.

The warmth of the Sun Circles enveloped them.

They sat together as the last light faded over the sea, forming a relaxed ring on the luminous grass.

Around them, countless other groups shared laughter and food under drifting lanterns shaped like suns.

“Why do you always sit like that, Mirai?” Saiya asked, her voice sharp but curious. “Sit normally — it’s tradition.”

“This is normal,” he grinned. “I’m innovating the tradition. You’ll thank me in a few years when everyone copies it.”

“Or maybe if you respected the ritual, we wouldn’t still be tenth,” she shot back.

“Ah, here we go. Leave it to you to tie posture to rankings,” he muttered, chuckling.

“I think he looks comfortable,” Takara said through a laugh. “That’s the point — sharing openly, not sitting stiff.”

Zenobia smiled faintly. “He does look kind of peaceful like that…”

“See?” Mirai beamed. “Validated.”

Saiya’s glare softened just slightly.

Mirai turned toward Takara. “You’re quiet. What’s on your mind?”

“Just… thinking,” she said. “This might be my last year with Sephoric.”

The circle stilled.

“I’ll probably have no choice but to take over Koizumi Corp after graduation,” she continued, steady but wistful. “But I’ll play with you one last year. That’s enough for me.”

Issan nodded thoughtfully, eyes softly closing. “I’ll be parting ways too — pursuing academia means little time for competition unfortunately.”

“Down two, huh?” Mirai sighed. “Right after hitting rank ten. Brutal.”

“Great,” Saiya dead-panned. “Stuck with the idiot.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Mirai grinned. “Square Phoenix already has my desk reserved.”

“You too, Zenobia?” Saiya asked, her voice unusually small.

“Aww, she’ll miss us,” Takara teased.

“I won’t!”

“Adorable.”

“Shut up — I’m talking to Zenobia!”

Zenobia hesitated.“I… want to move away from my parents. Maybe south — to Seluna, or maybe even the United North.”

“Please do,” Takara said gently. “What’s stopping you?”

“They control my income,” Zenobia admitted. “The tournament money goes straight to them. If that stopped… I’d be in trouble. So I’m waiting for the right time.”

Silence. Then Issan, perfectly mistimed:

“Did you know in the Second Age of Selunathis, sneezing was considered divine approval? Imagine allergy season.”

They all turned to him.

“Rright,” Saiya’s sigh oozed sarcasm. “Moving on. What’s in the United North? Sunese don’t typically move abroad.”

“Freedom,” Zenobia whispered. “And it’s the last place they’d look.”

“Then take care,” Takara said softly. “We’ll be with you, wherever you go. I’ll always keep in contact.”

Zenobia managed a small, tearful smile.

“Thank you.”

The group fell quiet again as the sun slipped below the horizon.

“Only a few months left together,” Mirai said at last. “Let’s make ’em count. It’s been an honor.”

He glanced at Saiya, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Even if certain people still think I’m an idiot, I’ll still keep in touch.”

“Likewise,” Issan said simply.

“You’re an idiot,” Saiya murmured, “but not the worst co-leader.”

“High praise,” Mirai grinned.

“Don’t push it.”

Takara’s laugh was soft watching the exchange. “How are you both not related?” Her voice lighter now. She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts before continuing.

“We’ve created something special,” she said. “No matter how far we go, this bond won’t break. Sephoric changed me — it gave me peace.”

For a moment, they all watched the lanterns drift into the night sky, their reflections dancing across the sea — bright, fragile, Fleeting.