CHAPTER 36: NEW FRIENDS ON THE WAY

[Continuation —]

"Hello...?"

Sky turned sharply, blinking as his thoughts scrambled back from the depths of the river.

Standing a few feet away was Ball, her hands folded behind her back, the late-afternoon light brushing her face.

"Oh— hey," he said quickly, trying to hide the strain in his voice.

Ball stood there — tall, poised, with a sharp yet elegant presence. Her red hair shimmered faintly in the dying sun, and her eyes carried a kind of confidence that made you instinctively straighten your posture. She didn’t look familiar, not even faintly. Definitely not one of the people he’d talked to before.

"I’m sorry," she said quickly, noticing his startled look. "Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. You just... looked like someone who could use a word or two."

Sky blinked, a little disoriented. "I’m fine," he murmured. "Just... clearing my head."

She folded her arms lightly, studying him with a curious tilt of her head. "Clearing your head? In front of a river, alone? that don’t look like ’clearing your head to me’, it looks like you might jump right in anytime soon. And I might have call on principal Camila..."

That caught him off-guard. He let out a small breath of laughter despite himself. "Am not ready to die, I still have a lot on my wishlist, so you can save you strength..." he jabbed.

"Okay, at least you’re aware..." she said with a smirk. "...You’ve got a lot of emotion for someone who claims to be fine though."

He gave a faint chuckle, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Guess I’m a bad liar?"

"I’ve met worse, trust me" she replied casually. Then, after a small pause, "Mind if I sit?"

He hesitated for a second, then gestured toward the spot beside him. "Yeah, you can sit."

She settled down beside him, not too close, just enough to share the same silence. The sound of the river filled the air— gentle but steady, like an old song that refused to end. The temple bells in the distance chimed faintly as the breeze brushed through the trees.

After a long moment, she glanced sideways. "Rough day?"

Sky sighed, his voice low. "You could say that. Everything just feels... off."

She studied him briefly. "You’ve been carrying too much for way too long, I can tell..."

He shrugged, eyes still on the ground. "Maybe I have. I’m just trying to figure things out."

There was a quiet pause between them— only the faint sound of wind passing through the trees.

He looked at her more closely, and curious now. "Are you new? Haven’t seen you before."

"Well, I’ve been around for a while. The place is too big and they’re a lot of people so... it’s expected of you to say that." she said vaguely. Then added, almost playfully, "But I’ve already learned that people come here to think too much."

Sky exhaled slowly. "Yeah... guilty as charged."

They fell quiet again for a moment. The air between them was still but heavy with unspoken things. Finally, she tilted her head. "So? What’s got you this... wrecked?"

He didn’t answer right away. His thumb traced the edge of a pebble in his hand. "You ever been in a position where you love something so bad but it’s completely out of reach?"

She hummed, thoughtful. "You mean something, or... someone?" she asked with a wink.

He smiled faintly. "Someone."

"Ah," she said, pretending to understand. "That’s tougher. Especially when the ’someone’ probably doesn’t even realize what they mean to you."

He gave a low laugh. "Exactly. I thought maybe she did. Guess I was wrong."

"What happened?" she asked softly, her tone balancing sympathy and intrigue.

He sighed. "She said she can’t handle love right now. Said she’s got too much to deal with."

Ball leaned back slightly, letting her fingers graze the pavement. "So, the serious kind of girl."

"Yeah. Serious, strong and impossible to read," Sky replied, his eyes lost in the current of the river. "But when she smiles... it’s like the whole damn world pauses. And now she’s gone, and I can’t even be mad about it."

The girl nodded slowly, her gaze resting on him. "You must really like her."

"I did," he said quietly. "Maybe I still do."

"Then maybe it’s not the end," she said lightly. "Sometimes people push others away to protect themselves, not because they want to."

He turned to her. "You really think so?"

He turned to her. "You really think so?"

She gave a simple shrug. "Just an observation. People wear their thoughts louder than they realize."

He nodded slowly. "Maybe that’s just how life works... we all end up showing more than we want to."

She looked at him for a brief moment, then said calmly, "And that’s how you survive it, by paying attention..."

He studied her for a second. "You remind me of someone."

She arched a brow. "Well I hope that someone is nice and pretty?"

He gave a faint, tired smile. "Yeah... someone who used to speak their mind the same way."

Ball gave a small, satisfied nod. "Then I’ll take it.

For a brief while, neither spoke. The silence between them wasn’t awkward anymore— just calm, steady and almost healing. Sky just made a new unexpected friend.

Then she tilted her head and said casually, "So this girl... Valkyrie, right?"

Sky blinked, a little surprised. "Yeah. How’d you...?"

She smiled quickly, lying with ease. "I’m friends with her. Very. Close friends...Well, Sort of" She paused then continued.

"We’ve talked a few times. She’s nice, and quiet, and strong, and I’ve seen you two a few times together, but you haven’t seen me though..."

Sky relaxed a bit at that. "Then you probably understand why it’s hard to move on. She’s... something else."

Ball nodded with feigned empathy. "I get it. People like her— they draw others in without trying. It’s frustrating, isn’t it? How they can make you feel seen one minute, and invisible the next?"

He looked at her, half-amused. "You’re really good at this emotional dissection thing."

She grinned, but her eyes gleamed faintly in the dimming light. "Let’s just say... I’ve watched enough hearts break to know how the pieces fall."

Sky chuckled softly, though her words carried a strange weight he couldn’t quite place.

"You’ll be fine, Sky" she said after a pause, her tone unexpectedly warm. "Sometimes, losing someone isn’t the end. It’s just the world’s way of saying you’re not ready— not yet. When you are, everything will find its place again."

He nodded slowly, appreciating the sincerity in her voice. "Thanks. I didn’t realize I needed that."

Ball rose to her feet gracefully, dusting her skirt with her palm. "You did. Everyone does, once in a while."

Sky looked up at her, a small smile touching his lips. "Thanks, I owe you one."

"Don’t worry about it," she said with a small laugh. "Just... try not to mope around here too often. Someone might think you’re about to commit suicide, with the way you stare at that river."

He smirked faintly. "I can’t take my own life...Hello?, I still got things to live for, if not anything...my friends "

He laughed under his breath as she began to walk away.

When she was a few steps off, she turned back briefly. "You’ll figure it out, Sky. You seem like the kind who always does."

"Maybe," he said. "Thanks. Again."

She nodded with a gentle smile— one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "See you around."

Sky watched her walk down the path before it hit him that he didn’t ask of her name. Immediately he called from afar. "WHAT’S YOUR NAME?"

Ball screamed back in reply "JUST CALL ME YOUR MYSTERY FRIEND" her silhouette framed by the deep orange light of sunset. For a fleeting moment, she looked almost angelic— and yet, something about the calmness in her walk felt... wrong. Too smooth and practiced.

He didn’t think much of it, though. His heart was too heavy to notice the shadow curling at the edge of her steps.

As she disappeared into the trees, Sky sighed and leaned back on his hands, gazing at the river again. The water shimmered faintly, reflecting the sky’s fading hues.

"I guess I made a new friend," he whispered.

A soft breeze stirred the surface of the water— but in the distance, unseen to him, Ball’s faint smirk broke across her lips as she vanished into the deepening dusk, her thoughts far from innocent.