Prologue

Seiya...

"Seiya!"
Her voice echoed through the serene sanctuary, a burst of life in the stillness.

"Seiya!"
She called again, more insistent this time. He turned his head, his eyes finally meeting hers, and he smiled—a smile that he hoped would be enough to hide what lingered beneath. It didn't reach his eyes, though. He knew it, and he wondered if she did too. But he couldn't disappoint her—not when she looked so radiant, so untroubled.

There she was, bathed in the golden hue of late afternoon light, her silhouette framed by the tall grass. Her long red hair fluttered like wildfire in the breeze as she twirled, reaching out in pursuit of a butterfly that danced just out of her grasp. Her laughter rang out, a melody so sweet it seemed to breathe life into the stillness.

He studied her. How could he not? She was beautiful. Almost otherworldly. Those deep ebony eyes held a thousand secrets, and he wanted so desperately to decipher each one. Her perfect nose seemed sculpted by an artist's hand, and her red, delicate lips curved into a smile that was too pure, too joyful. A smile that belonged in a world untouched by pain.

She was perfect. And yet...

Seiya's chest tightened as the uneasiness crept in again—uninvited and unrelenting. Something about her, about all of this, didn't sit right. It had been a month since they began dating, and by now he should've grown used to her quirks, her energy, her world. Yet every time they were together, something in him refused to settle.

She grabbed his hand suddenly, her warmth jolting him back to the present.

"Come on!" she urged, tugging him forward. "I found more butterflies over here!"

Seiya let her lead him, her excitement infectious enough to earn a quiet chuckle from him. He couldn't deny the joy she brought into these moments, her laughter ringing like chimes carried by the wind. Here she was, spinning in the middle of the sanctuary, arms outstretched as butterflies flitted around her like stars caught in daylight. She was dancing—not like anyone was watching, but as if the world itself was urging her on. Her smile widened, and her voice rose in giggles as though she had discovered a joy no one else could touch.

She seemed normal... didn't she?

And yet the unease never left him. It lingered in the pit of his stomach, whispering doubts he couldn't name. Like a shadow just at the edge of his vision, gone the moment he tried to focus on it.

Why did he feel this way?

Is it just me? he wondered, swallowing the thought as quickly as it came. Maybe it was. Maybe it was all in his head—his overthinking, his own insecurities playing tricks on him.

He watched her again, twirling, laughing, alive. Everything about her screamed perfection. And yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong—not with her, but about her. Something he couldn't see, something he couldn't name.

And that frightened him more than he wanted to admit.