The sun was glaring hot that day.

Zeke shaded his eyes with a hand as he craned his neck, feeling the sweat starting to trickle down his temple. Drabbles of conversation and outside noise mixed into the air, a humming excitement and enthusiasm rippling across the players on the field as both teams got into position. Rows of audience sat around them on the bleachers, and he could hear a few chants of cheering from two different sides.

He often played in games like these, feeling hot under the sun, subjected under the cheers and yells of the audience, but for some reason, that day he felt.. off.

Suddenly, the sun was a bit too hot. Suddenly, the crowd was a bit too loud. And suddenly, his uniform felt a bit too tight. Everything felt off, odd.. uncomfortable.

"Looking nervous, Yeager," a teammate remarked, playfully slapping Zeke on the back. "Someone didn't get a good sleep, looks like."

Zeke shrugged his hand off and forced a nonchalant look. "Says the guy with sleep still in his eyes."

His teammate paused for a bit, then wiped his eyes with a hand, trying to get the sleep off. Zeke chuckled and teared his eyes away from him.

Zeke Yeager halfheartedly scanned the crowd. Calls of his name echoed some parts here and there, and if he were to take a guess, they were probably from school. He didn't think too much of it, until his eyes landed on her.

Isanna always attended his games. Even though there were times he had to pester her into coming and she'd just roll his eyes and pretend as if she were dragged, Zeke knew she wouldn't miss his game for the world. Yet, seeing her there and then after he tried to make a move on her the other day was still a bit unexpected.

She was sitting on the second row so she was fairly close to the field, leaning forward in a languid slouch as she rested her elbow on her knee. Her eyes were glued at him. And then when he caught her staring, he saw her flinch and avert her eyes, suddenly finding another area of the field interesting.

A warm, fuzzy feeling spread in Zeke's chest. He knew he already apologized, but he had to make sure to apologize to her again after the game. Maybe, he'd even take her out to her favorite café down the block. It never failed to lift Isanna's mood whenever she took a bite out of their cheesecake.

He was called out of his thoughts when their coach called the rest of the team to gather round. After a few more words and reminders, they went to position. Their team was batting for the first-half of the first inning, and Zeke is usually their cleanup hitter so he waited at the back in their dugout.

And then, the discomfort returned.

Zeke's vision blurred for just a moment, and he had to blink away the distortion and squint to try to strain his vision clearer.

He saw the pitcher of the other team walk up to the pitcher's mound while their batter took his spot beside the home plate. Zeke watched their batter heft the bat in his grip, taking an alerted stance. The pitcher positioned himself, eyes strained on the batter, then towards his teammate catcher. Then he slowly did a pitching form and launched the ball at breakneck speed.

PING!

Their batter managed to hit the ball, sending it flying towards the left field. He immediately dropped the bat and sprinted towards the first base. The opposing team's left fielder couldn't retrieve the ball in time so their leadoff hitter managed to dash straight through all bases and managed a home run. Zeke's coach nodded in approval.

My head's killing me..

Zeke thought with an inward grumble as he held his temple, head feeling a bit too heavy to be satisfied at their good opening.

Their second hitter took his position beside the home base. This time, he stopped at the first base and they couldn't make a home run. Their third hitter followed, and then it was Zeke's turn.

The moment Zeke stepped out of their dugout, he swore the heat from the sun only got hotter.

But he pushed through anyway, willing himself to step forward and reach the home plate. Whatever it is he was feeling, maybe he can endure at least after the end of the first inning. He took the bat and weighed it in his grip before taking a stance.

He made brief eye contact with the pitcher before the latter pitched the ball. With his head still pounding, Zeke swung.

He waited for that usual impact to hit the bat, sending that all-too familiar thump and shake throughout his arm and down to his body. But the impact never came.

It took a few seconds to register that he missed. Strike one.

He failed—

And then, for just a brief moment, something else flashed in his eyes—

—younger him, huffing and panting as he ran across a field, left behind by his peers. He'd always been the slowest of the bunch, a bit on the weak side, too, physical coordination always a bit lacking.

He blinked, and the image disappeared. He was still on the field, but it wasn't the same kind of field he just saw.

At that moment, Zeke knew he definitely wasn't in his best condition. He rarely ever strikes. His precision and technique were topnotch in their team, and judging by the shifting of his teammates by the dugout, they knew too.

Zeke lightly shook his head, eyebrows lightly twitching, hoping to get the distraction out. He inhaled deeply, before releasing, calming himself down before he took his stance once more.

The pitcher looked at him once more—Zeke recognized him. He played against his team some time before, but he was never really that interested enough to get his name.

Concentrate, he told himself, eyes glued on the pitcher's hand that held the ball. Zeke tightened his grasp on the handle of the bat.

The pitcher threw the ball once more, with the same velocity. Zeke swung.

This time, he hit it, sending it far away from the playing field like a shooting star.

Zeke barely registered the enthusiastic screams from the crowd stands as he dropped the bat and bolted straight towards the first base, the rest of his baserunners advancing to the next. By the time Zeke reached home base, he was too tired to even acknowledge the pats on the back.

"I'm fine," he assured the coach after he asked about his gameplay focus. He tried to sound upbeat with his usual grin. "You know coach, if I were perfect all the time our games would be boring. A mistake is fun once in a while."

The rest of his teammates rolled their eyes, some groaning. Leave it to Zeke Yeager to expertly weave around their concerns and wave it away, completely dismissive.

The first-half ended, so the teams switched positions. Zeke was assigned as center field this time.

As he waited for the rest of the players to get to their position, he rested both hands on his hips, body weighing down heavily like a ton of bricks were on his shoulder. He lifted a hand and wiped his neck, startled by how much he was sweating.

What the fuck was happening to him?

Zeke glanced at the bleachers on instinct, as if his body knew just a small glimpse of her could calm him down maybe. He looked right where he remembered Isanna was, and saw her staring straight at him.

Instead of averting her gaze like the last time, she focused on him, face evidently worried. Her eyes were enough of a question.

You okay?

Zeke held her eye contact.

I'm fine.

Then he looked away, breathing evenly. Having Isanna worry over him like this, although it felt nice, wasn't good.

The game continued.

Zeke watched their pitcher slowly go into a pitching position, before he chucked the ball towards the batter. A loud ping! echoed across the field and the ball flew high up, straight towards the area of the center field where Zeke was stationed.

Judging by the speed and trajectory, it was a perfect angle for Zeke to catch. He ran towards the back, eyes still strained on the soaring ball and his hands ready to catch it. Zeke was more of a pitcher, but he was quite a good catcher too, so he wasn't all doubtful that he was going to catch it.

And just when the ball fell nearer and nearer, Zeke raised his hands—his feet still shuffling, waiting for the ball to land on his outstretched grasp, when—

The sun hit his eyes a bit too glaring at that moment.

"Zeke."

"Mr. Ksaver!"

And soaring between them from one pair of hands to another, was a baseball.

When Zeke came to, his head was hurting like never before. The baseball that had been inches from his grasp fell to the grass as Zeke failed to catch it, but at that point the ache in his head, the suffocation in his chest, the cold shivers down his body—all were far too overwhelming to ignore.

He faintly realized staggering on his feet, barely realized the way his vision spiraled as he fell to the ground, the grass cushioning his landing, barely heard the concerned calls of his teammates ringing in his ears.

"Zeke!"

The last thing he caught before his consciousness left him was a blurry figure bolting towards him from the bleachers, sprinting nearer and nearer, the face of the person briefly focusing to show her face full with worry as she reached for him.

Maybe Zeke reached back; he wasn't sure.

⎺

When he came to, he found himself in the infirmary. Eyes blearily fluttered open, gaze meeting the ceiling.

Zeke blinked a few more times, mind still distorted. He often had naps where he'd be feeling a bit lost upon waking up, but this time was no ordinary nap. He slowly lifted his torso and sat up, holding back a grunt when he realized the ache in his head was still there.

"Zeke!"

A relieved voice came. Zeke knew that voice—he always will. He'd probably recognize that voice even in his sleep.

His eyes slid to the side and saw Isanna jump from her seat, leaning on the infirmary bed to check him. She grabbed him by the shoulder, eyes shooting in worry.

"Are you okay?" she asked, scanning his face. "You just—you were pale and fainted out of nowhere—"

She was visibly frantic, that much Zeke could tell.

"—the nurse said there wasn't anything wrong with you so it's weird but—"

Isanna paused. She stared at Zeke a bit longer, silently, and he was about to ask what was wrong when she pressed a gentle palm against his cheek and wiped something wet.

Wet?

Zeke blinked, only realizing.

Oh.

That vision he had.

Except it wasn't a vision. It was a flashback.

A past he had once forgotten. A past left behind in the realms of time, in another reality, another lifetime.

And then suddenly, everything just made sense at that exact moment.

Why he never felt anything whenever he watched his parents argue and yell at each other. Why he never felt truly safe and heard, why he always felt as if he was continuously chasing something that was running away from him, why he always felt the need to be perfect—everything fell into place once his past resurfaced.

Zeke flinched when his head throbbed once more. Grabbing his head, he hung his face, a groan leaving him.

Marley. Titans. Paradis. The war.

And then came the other, more vulnerable thoughts.

Mr. Ksaver, his family, his father—

He could feel it right at that exact moment: his chest constricting, almost suffocating. No, he thought. He shouldn't be feeling this now. He shouldn't be. That was all in the past, he was different now, and he was no longer—

A gentle hand rested on his head, and the destructive thoughts paused.

Zeke never raised his head, not even when Isanna pulled him into a hug, her hand on the back of his head as she pushed him onto her own shoulder. She never said a word, but Zeke didn't need her to. Instinctively, his hands found her back, wrapping tightly around her, and he held onto her like she was his lifeline.

Come the following days, Isanna never asked nor pried about the reason behind his tears that day, and Zeke was grateful for it. He didn't know how to break it up to her, that he was now living an entire lifetime's burdens and memories on his shoulder, and how it was kind of pathetic of him to cling on to her for his sanity, but he still does it anyway, if only for the respite her presence gave him.

Zeke didn't think his memories would change anything between them—not until two years later, anyway.

───

2 years later...

"This is the third day Zeke's been absent this week. Could you check on him later after class ends?"

Isanna didn't have much of a choice—she was planning on dropping by his home anyway.

She nodded and affirmed her homeroom adviser's request before she excused herself and stepped out of the faculty's office.

For their last year in high school, Zeke and Isanna were classmates once more, so the latter had been awfully aware of the vacant seat by the front near the window for a while now.

Today was the third successive day this week that Zeke hadn't come to school. The week before, he'd missed two days, and the week before that, he missed another two days. She'd noticed Zeke's absent-mindedness started at the beginning of the school year, but when Isanna asked him about it, he shrugged it off and teasingly remarked how it was a rarity for her to express such concern over him and asked whether she had finally fallen for him, along with that snarky grin he always wore.

Naturally, Isanna punched his shoulder and never brought light to the topic again.

Now however, Isanna was fairly certain something was going on with him. Zeke was an overachiever, model student—no matter how much he liked to goof around, his spot as the top of their year never moved for as long as she could remember. Despite his lax disposition, he wasn't fond of skipping classes, but lately, his performance wasn't so.. great. And the added absences weren't helping at all, so she wondered what had happened recently that—

No, it wasn't recent, she thought somberly as she paused, standing in the empty hallway. She glanced to the side and peered out the window, watching the school courtyard littering with students.

If she were to pinpoint the exact moment Zeke started to change, it had been a while ago.

Isanna started noticing there was something else in Zeke's eyes from time to time, like he was looking at a faraway place with a distant glaze in his expression. Sometimes he'd go uncharacteristically quiet and doze off like someone just placed the burden of the entire world on his shoulders, and although his sarcastic remarks and snarky grins and smirks still popped up on occasion, it didn't carry the same level as the previous years did.

The idea that her best friend was possibly starting to change and distance himself from her brought an anxious twist to her stomach.

I mean, it's normal to feel this way, she thought, trying to validate it. They were best friends. Always had, always been. It was hard to imagine life without the other, not when Zeke was always a present figure in her life for as long as she could remember.

But why?

For some reason, it felt.. vaguely familiar; this uncomfortable feeling, as if it wasn't the first time someone had done it to her.

Isanna shook her head and continued walking back to class.

⎺

A knock echoed against the door.

Isanna stood, hand tightly gripping the strap of her shoulder bag as she stood and waited in front of Zeke Yeager's house.

It was a bit strange, she thought. They'd been best friends for years, but she almost never stepped foot in his place. It was always Zeke himself crashing into hers, so Isanna never had the opportunity to visit him that often.

She craned her neck and stared at the structure.

It looked a bit.. gloomy. Some of the potted plants by the garden had wilted, and there were overgrown weeds that needed to be uprooted or trimmed scattered around. Even the windows of the house were shut tight, and for a moment, Isanna briefly considered the possibility of there being no one at home.

Until she heard footsteps from the opposite side of the door, and she perked up.

Creaking open, the door was pulled open from the inside, and Isanna blinked as she regarded Zeke, who looked like he hadn't slept at all for the last three days she hadn't seen him.

Zeke himself looked a bit taken aback at her presence, before he put on what he thought was a cheeky smile for her, but Isanna swore he looked tired.

"Someone's missing me, I assume?" he started, leaning against his door frame with arms crossed. "Is three days all it takes, sweetheart?"

With a straight face, Isanna squeezed between Zeke and the open door without a word, inviting herself in.

As soon as she stepped inside, Isanna wrinkled her nose at the state of the living room. Everything looked dull, not a shred of life hanging at any inch at all. Dust seemed to be collecting at the fireplace, the sofas and coffee table looked like no one had been using them for a long, long while, and because the windows were shut, there was little light despite the late afternoon rays just outside.

"If this is about school, I already know," Zeke said, catching her attention as he walked past her and headed straight for the kitchen. Isanna followed after him.

Unlike the living room, the kitchen looked more used, which was a bit better, Isanna supposed. She watched Zeke pace over towards the kitchen island and the cupboard above the sink, pulling out a mug before turning to the fridge nearby for a glass pitcher of water. He poured into the mug before setting it down on the counter that separated the both of them. He pushed it over towards her in the silence.

Isanna ignored the mug, her eyes glued on Zeke instead.

"You haven't been to school," she said, pointing out the obvious.

Zeke pressed his lips tighter into a thin line, nodding and half heartedly chuckling. He leaned against the sink.

"Yes, Isa. I just told you I'm aware." He was keeping a light tone, obviously trying to disarm the trickling tension that had somehow collected in the air above them. "Don't miss me too much, though, I'll be back tomorrow. Just haven't been feeling good lately—I think I caught a cold."

Isanna's face never showed a twitch nor any change in expression.

"You've been dipping more frequently since a few weeks ago. Even the months before that, you've been.. distant."

He laughed through his nose, shaking his head as he looked away in faint dramatics. "Dear me, had I known you'd miss me this much I would have been more—"

"What happened?"

Her abrupt question cut through the conversation, interrupting Zeke. Isanna didn't care for it though—he was painfully obviously trying to maneuver his way out of an interrogation. She was familiar with his tactics; dismissive humor and sarcasm blended together to form a façade, give the impression that he wasn't as affected nor as vulnerable as people thought.

So, when for a brief moment, something else flashed in Zeke's eyes, Isanna wasn't surprised at all.

He stood across her, still separated from the counter and him still leaning against the sink, and although his arms were crossed and he tried to look relaxed, Isanna could see the tension in his stance.

".. Isa—"

"I've had enough of you running away," she interjected, hand gripping the strap of her bag tighter than before, her brows knitting. "You're always like this. You cling to me yet you keep me at an arm's length as if you're afraid of something—like you're afraid of—"

She gestured vaguely with a hand, looking so lost.

"Vulnerability, I guess? I don't know," Isanna paused, taking in a deep breath before she looked at him in the eye again. "I came here because I was worried, not just because the teacher told me to since you're missing school, you idiot." She stopped, letting her hand fall back to her side in resignation.

"So tell me what happened, Zeke. Something clearly did, and whatever it is, running away won't solve anything."

At the end of her rambling, the silence returned. Zeke looked a lot more distressed, but Isanna figured that was better than him bottling things and letting it all explode on himself.

He averted his eyes, staring at the faded tiles below, before he sighed.

"My parents are getting divorced."

Isanna fell into silence after that. She's always known about Zeke's family circumstances, even though he tried to chalk it off as nothing of importance.

He chuckled hollowly, cutting Isanna's thoughts.

"Funny."

Isanna blinked. "What?"

"It's funny," Zeke repeated, eyes still trailing on the floor. "I.. always knew they didn't have the best relationship out there. I knew it since I was a kid, and yet—" he stopped himself, probably to even his voice.

"Yet it still hits me. Why me? Why do I always end up in this—" he waved a vague gesture— "situation. I thought this time would be different."

Memories of his past life trickled in like a waterfall; never-ending, overflowing, and cold. All Zeke ever truly wanted was to be a normal son with a normal family. Everyone else seemed to be blessed so easily by that, so why not him? Why was it that his greatest wishes were so easily granted to others but him? Is that too much to ask?

"I thought if I were just a bit.. better. Maybe if I were just a bit more of a perfect son, maybe I could have changed something."

He wasn't sure if he was talking about his past or his present. His two lives felt too entangled with each other to separate them at this point. Granted his parents back then had a more tolerable relationship than in this life, but one thing didn't change, and it's that they never truly saw him as their son.

"Zeke," Isanna gently called. She wanted to circle around the counter so that she could be closer to him, but something was stopping her. "Your parents' decisions were never because you're lacking. Their decisions are theirs, and their relationship is theirs to fix; never your responsibility and never your fault. Stop beating yourself—"

"No," he interrupted forcefully with an exasperated sigh, and Isanna had to blink back her surprise.

"No," Zeke repeated, face contorting to a grimace, and for a split second he forgot that his past life was something Isanna wasn't privy to. His eyes flashed a different hue.

"You don't get it. It was all because I was too incompetent to gain their approval, too weak to change anything—"

"Zeke, that's not—"

"You don't understand, Isa—and you never will!" The moment Zeke's voice started to raise, Isanna involuntarily took a step back, startled that Zeke actually yelled at her.

Chest constricting, she blinked, and then, just for a moment, she was suddenly no longer in Zeke's kitchen.

The walls shifted, and she was transported to a different space, a different room—it looked like an office. The smell of old wood. The kitchen counter transformed into a wide working desk. The blond across her was sitting behind it, face so calm while she was on the other side, screaming about something, but the blond no longer looked like Zeke and—

The vision stopped, and when Isanna blinked once more, she was back at the kitchen. If it was even possible, her heart felt heavier.

"You can say all that bullshit because you don't know how it feels. You know nothing, you were just adopted and don't even know your own parents—"

Isanna flinched, and that's when Zeke stopped.

A heavy silence settled.

As if a switch had turned and clicked, Zeke watched, horrified at himself, as Isanna seemed to shrink back.

His blood ran cold, his heart sank. "Isa, I'm—"

She didn't stay a second longer than that. Isanna spun around and stalked out of the kitchen through the doorway, back into the living room.

Stunned, it took Zeke seconds to realize what just happened, what was happening. And when he did, he quickly lurched across the room, scrambling after Isanna, his words still burning hot in his tongue.

Isanna was already halfway across the living room from the door when Zeke reached for her wrist and stopped her.

"Isa, wait—" Zeke started, stumbling on his words, "please, I'm sorry I—"

Isanna whirled around to face him again, and in a moment of impulse—a loud slap echoed in the dull living room.

Both equally shocked, Zeke slowly touched his cheek, his head turning back to face her. He didn't even bother to process the stinging, he just wanted to say something, anything, but the moment his eyes caught her trembling gaze, all Zeke wanted was for the ground to swallow him whole.

Isanna wordlessly yanked her wrist from him and stalked away, out the front door without a backward glance.

⎺

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The wall clock seemed to be moving agonizingly slow.

Isanna stared at it for who-knows-how long, fingers absentmindedly twirling her pencil around. Her cheek lazily rested on her palm.

Some moments later, the school bell rang, signaling the end of class.

Scraping of chairs screeched through the room and friends and classmates exchanged chirpy conversations. Isanna had her share of conversations with some of her friends, before she eventually walked out into the hallway, down the stairs and into the courtyard, and then through the school gate.

Like a monotonous robot, Isanna walked down her usual route, eyes plastered forward, a grip on her shoulder bag.

She only stopped walking when a baseball rolled by her feet, catching her attention. She slid her gaze and caught the sight of children looking at her sheepishly and realized she was already near the bridge by the riverbank. Bending down, she picked up the baseball and gave it to the young boy who had come over to retrieve the ball. He apologized, gave a quick bow of his head as thanks, then turned and dashed back to his friends.

With a pensive gaze, Isanna stared at the circle of friends longer than she should.

It's been a week since she's last seen Zeke. He never showed up to school after that day, even though he'd told her he will before.. before the rest of their conversation happened. Isanna never had the heart to visit him after either, Zeke's cutting words still fresh in her memory.

What a pain..

She had visited him because she wanted to cheer him up and help him with whatever was bothering him, but in the end, it just made everything worse.

She gazed over the riverbank, watching all the children play together, some couples sitting on the grass and basking in the tranquility, and some having a picnic.

After a moment of contemplation, Isanna realized she deserved a break from her thoughts and reconnect with nature. She stalked over to a more secluded part of the riverbank and dropped her school bag, before she sat down facing the river, crossing her legs beneath her.

She never had the chance to mull over that strange vision, either. It was off-putting. Why did it suddenly pop up during her conversation with Zeke?

A dull ache in her head had her resting a palm on her temple, slightly hissing.

What was it about anyway?

She was in that foreign office, yelling. And then there was another blond sitting behind that working desk, looking at her calmly like she was nothing but a buzzing fly. He was so calm, as if her screaming didn't affect him at all. As if he was just.. letting her scream, venting it all out.

Then the blond said something, and Isanna remembered how she stopped yelling. Then came the familiar, hollow ache in her chest. Something he said had hurt her.

Am I going insane?

What else would it mean, seeing hallucinations?

Now, she wasn't sure if the reason why she was so upset for the past week was because of what Zeke said, or if it was because of that strange, unknown blond with the distorted face.

With a frustrated groan, Isanna fell back, arms stretched over the grass to her sides as she gazed at the afternoon skies that were slowly shifting into hues of golden and orange.

Maybe a nap with nature wouldn't feel so bad, she decided as she closed her eyes and tried to shoo away all the upsetting thoughts.

Soon, Isanna drifted to sleep, but she later realized even sleep wasn't enough to escape the thoughts plaguing her.

She couldn't believe him.

How could he sit there, looking so unfazed even though her own heart was already breaking?

She refused to believe this was the same man she grew up with. Refused to believe that the man who used to look at her with gentle eyes now wore a gaze so stiff and cold, devoid of warmth. Perhaps, this was his high position and responsibility finally catching up to him.

And in a moment of desperation, her emotions surged and her lips parted,

"Since when did you become such a heartless asshole?!"

The silence trickled in. After a long, drawn-out eye contact, he finally averted his gaze. But what Isanna wasn't aware of was that it wasn't because he couldn't be bothered to look at her.

It was that he could no longer handle the weight of the pain in her eyes, and the fact that it was him deliberately causing it.

And with a careful, even voice, he finally said, "You are dismissed."

She tried to call his name, but as the syllables left her tongue they sounded garbled in her own ears.

"I said, you are dismissed."

Isanna was woken up by a pair of hands that were shaking her.

Her eyes flew open in a startle, but before she could even shoo away the sleep in her mind, the person was already rambling, as if the words were leaving him before his thoughts could match the pace.

"—looking everywhere for you! Why didn't you answer my calls?!"

Isanna blinked, only realizing then that the afternoon skies were no longer that of an afternoon's but that of evening. And then she realized that what should have been a brief nap turned into hours of sleep—and she had a feeling that dream was the cause of it.

The next thing she realized was the identity of the person holding on to her, hands gripping her arms so tightly she was sure he'd leave a bruise.

"Zeke—"

"Your parents called me, said that you still haven't gone home and they couldn't contact you. Why the fuck are you sleeping in a place like this?!"

Isanna's mind was still having a hard time catching up, but her lips were parting and closing, trying to find the words. Right now, instead of feeling bad for worrying him, all she could honestly think of was the dream, and that foreign blond.

"It was just a nap, I swear—"

"Goddamn it, Isanna—" Zeke exhaled, hanging his head briefly before he lifted his face and looked at her face again— "do you understand how dangerous this was? I thought something happened to you—"

"—But I'm fine—"

"But I'm not!" he snapped, and then Isanna went quiet.

Zeke squeezed his eyes shut, heaved a heavy sigh before he took in a deep breath, and that was when Isanna realized he was sweating. She could imagine him running around the neighborhood looking for her.

"I... I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Zeke opened his eyes and looked at her once more.

"'s long as you're alright," he muttered under his breath, and Isanna barely caught it.

She watched as Zeke took out his phone and dialed a number, placing it beside his ear after. While he waited for the other end to pick up, Isanna turned beside her and reached for her bag—thankfully, her valuables were still with her. She took out her phone and tried to turn it on, only to realize the battery had run out.

No wonder she couldn't be contacted. Even if she was asleep, she would have noticed the ringtone and vibration.

"—yes, I found her. She's with me, we're at the riverbank near the bridge." Zeke's voice made Isanna turn to him again. He was still crouching beside her, a hand on her arm while the other held his phone. "No, she's alright. She fell asleep. Yes. Yes. No problem, Mrs. Herrmann. I'll take care of her. Yes."

He handed the phone to her. Isanna brought it to her ear, slightly dreading the earful she was bound to receive. And an earful she did.

After listening to her mom ramble about how much she worried them (at least she didn't take five minutes), she said her well-deserved apology spiel and ended the call.

Isanna returned the phone and Zeke pocketed it before he stood up, taking her bag for her and held his hand for her to take.

"I can walk back home by myself."

"I know," Zeke said without looking at her. He grasped her hand tightly in his and started walking anyway. "But I'd rather know that you arrived home safe. Don't cause me any more trouble and just go along with it."

His rather detached behavior after his previous outburst was a sight to behold, but Isanna figured Zeke had enough stress to worry about. This was the first time in a long while she'd seen him without his usual casual disposition.

The walk back home was quiet. Not uncomfortable, but not entirely without tension, either. Last week's encounter was still fresh in their memory.

The stars twinkled high above them, the moonless night painting serene shades of dark midnight blue. A light blow of the cold evening breeze rushed through the neighborhood as their footsteps clacked against the cracked pavement.

"Isa—"

"Zeke—"

An awkward pause. Isanna caught the way Zeke briefly turned to the other side, clearing his throat, and she decided to continue her piece.

"Sorry," she started, trying to keep it as brief as possible. "About last week."

Zeke abruptly paused, his hand still holding hers, so Isanna had to stop too. They were at the sidewalk near a lone lamppost, their shadows casting over the pavement the only ones accompanying them in the desolated street.

Zeke stared at her, frowning, couldn't believe the words she just uttered.

"Why are you the one apologizing?"

"You already had a lot on your plate.. felt like I just made things worse by visiting you that day."

"That's not—" Zeke stopped himself, squeezed his eyes close and heaved in a deep sigh to calm himself. When he opened them and looked at her again, he felt even more regretful. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm supposed to be the one apologizing—don't steal my thunder like that."

"About the slap—"

"Should've hit me harder," he interrupted. He recalled the face she made that day and wanted to bang his head against the lamppost. "I deserved it. 'Sides.. you always use me as your punching bag. What's a little slap gonna do to me?"

Isanna caught his underlying lighthearted tone at the end of his statement and studied his face clearly, trying to decipher his mood right now. He still looked a bit regretful—the way his hand was slightly shaking as he held hers told her that much, but he was also trying to lighten up the mood.

"And.. what I said that day, I didn't mean it," Zeke finished, looking away for a bit before he turned back to her, squeezing her hand. "I'm sorry."

Isanna held his gaze for a bit longer.

"I know you didn't."

The longer Zeke stared at her, the more his chest ached. He may never have had a true family back then. He may never have had a normal life as a normal son, never had anything that offered him some semblance of a home, but in this life, he did.

And maybe, he thought, she was fate's apology for giving him the life he lived in the past.

"I would feel a lot better if you got mad at me, you know."

Isanna contemplated a bit, tilting her head.

"You did say you're used to being my punching bag."

"Well, it was more of a metaph—oof!"

An involuntary grunt left him as Isanna delivered a swift punch to his stomach, and he had to double over. Before he could even realize, she pulled him into a hug.

"It's a truce then," she muttered into his neck.

Zeke eventually recovered from her punch and wrapped his arms around her, snuggling his face into her shoulder. He hummed in reply.

"Not gonna lie, a reconciliation kiss would have been good, too."

Isanna abruptly pulled back, muttering something like 'cheeky brat' under her breath before she looked away. But before she did, Zeke did manage to catch the twitch in her lips, like a relieved smile.

"Is that a blush I see, Herrmann? Have you finally fallen for me?"

"'Finally'?" she repeated with a slight laugh, shaking her head. "You need to up your game if you want to sweep me off my feet, Yeager. I have high standards."

"Oh really? And who, pray tell, set those standards of yours?"

Isanna's smile was still plastered on her face, about to play along when she remembered the foreign blond in her vision.

Her smile faltered. The man in her dreams.

Before Zeke could even realize the change in her demeanor, she waved the topic away.

"Enough. Just because I forgave you doesn't mean you can flirt around with me. I expect a slice of cheesecake as an extra token of apology," she said, turning back to the direction of her house and started walking.

Zeke laughed through his nose and caught up with her.

As the two hiked through the empty streets of their neighborhood back to Isanna's house, exchanging their usual words of banter, Isanna didn't understand why there was a queasy prickle somewhere in her chest.

⎺

Hurried steps dashed down the road.

Isanna huffed and panted as the houses blurred in her periphery, maneuvering passers-by. Her school bag was cumbersome to lug around with but class had just ended and she didn't have time to stop by home.

When she arrived at Zeke's house, she knocked on the door so roughly it couldn't have been considered knocking anymore but more like banging.

"Zeke! Are—"

The door pulled open, and Zeke stood, eyes blinking and evidently slightly startled at the ruckus.

"Isa?"

Isanna wasted no time and entered through the threshold, closing the door behind her. This time, the windows were pulled open and the living room didn't look as dull as it did, although the furniture still looked as unused as ever. She turned to Zeke, taking him all in, and noticed that he looked.. normal?

"What's this about?" he started with a tilt of his head, a lone brow raised.

Isanna bit her lip.

"You didn't come to school, and I heard your parents finalized their divorce process, so I thought you were.. well.. not okay.."

Zeke blinked at her a few times, before a weary smile found its way to his lips, his eyes softening a bit. Seeing her dash straight to him after hearing the news warmed his heart a bit.

"Well, for your information, I'm doing fine—at least, as fine as a child of divorce should be." He shrugged his shoulders, more casually than Isanna thought he would be, before he gestured her over to the kitchen.

"You should've given me a call. Would have whipped up something for y—"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Zeke paused and looked at her again, seeing the concern in her eyes, and he chuckled.

"Believe it or not, I had plenty of time to prepare myself." It was a bit embarrassing how affected he'd been by his parents' situation, although Zeke knew his past played a huge part in his initial reaction.

"I'll be staying with my dad, it seems.. not that it changes anything, to be honest." He rarely ever saw his dad anyway.

"Besides, you said it yourself. Their decision is theirs alone."

Zeke decided losing himself over his own dysfunctional family just wasn't that worth it anymore. After all, he found something—someone, much more valuable than that. He waved the topic away. "I was just a bit tired to go to school today, but really, I'm doing better than I thought I would. But thanks, anyway."

Isanna still didn't look convinced; she hadn't even put down her bag yet, clutching the shoulder strap tightly in her grip, and her brows pulled into a worried frown as she scanned his face for any signs of deception.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I might seriously kiss you."

Isanna snapped out of her thoughts and sighed, frowning disapprovingly at him.

"You really have the energy to joke around at this time?"

"It's not a joke."

Zeke's honesty caught her off-guard, judging by the way her brows rose just a tad bit. Zeke himself knew he made it a habit to tease Isanna around by playfully flirting with her, but he also knew that, at least this time around, he seriously did want to follow through with his words.

Maybe because it's been a long time that he's been feeling this way and today was the limit of his patience, or maybe his current situation with his family was the tipping point, or maybe the sight of Isanna still breathing heavily after running straight to him, worried about him, was what triggered it—it could be a combination of all three, he wasn't sure.

But one thing Zeke Yeager did know, was that he loved her, probably a bit too much, to continue hiding it.

".. You're probably not thinking straight because of what's happening," Isanna sighed. "Zeke, I really don't appreciate—"

Isanna stopped right there, rigid, as Zeke leaned forward and silently rested his forehead on her shoulder. He breathed a heavy, shuddering sigh.

"I guess I had this coming," he muttered with a halfhearted chuckle, eyes half-lidded. "I fool around a lot that you take my honesty for a joke, right?"

Isanna blinked a few times, eyes slowly sliding over down to him. And then the foreign feeling returned.

Wrong.

"Maybe you won't believe me, but I'll say it anyway: I'm in love with you."

Isanna's breath hitched at the back of her throat.

Wrong.

Something was wrong, but she didn't know what. And she didn't understand—here was Zeke, her best friend for years, pouring his heart out to her and showing her genuine affection. It would be a lie to say that she never once felt butterflies in her stomach whenever he flirted around with her, and there had been a point during the past years where she contemplated how she viewed him, but ever since that day in his kitchen, where her eyes saw a different blond instead of him, her feelings were like a dark, murky blob of unidentified substance—impossible to decipher.

Zeke lifted his head from her shoulder, noting the distant look in her eyes.

"Zeke, I.." Isanna tried to look for her voice to come back. ".. I honestly don't know what to say."

It wasn't a lie.

Maybe.. maybe if she hadn't seen that stranger in her dreams, maybe she would have felt more positive about Zeke's confession.

Zeke was silent for a moment, before he took her hand in his, and held it between them.

"I don't want you to look at me as just your best friend anymore, but as a man who is willing to court you. And even if you don't.. see me like that, yet.."

He continued, "Then I hope you give me a chance to love you. And maybe.. maybe later, you can love me back, the way I do."

Had Isanna knew the choice she made that day would be the first chess piece to move in this board of chess called fate, she would have given him a different answer.