Shane moved the car into a lively compound of old, terracotta buildings. Crowds of people were seated in open terraces under bright yellow canopies. Wind whistled through palm trees that had fairy lights entwined around their trunks. Sizeable screens stood in the open spaces, waiting for dusk to fall to come alive.

After a long minute of circling, he found a vacant parking slot and reverse parked into it.

"Shane, maybe we should head straight to Rind's place. What if it gets too dark when I get back?" Evanna asked, pulling off her seatbelt. "My mom might kill me."

He paused with his hand on the door. "I'll drive fast."

"Oh, even faster than before?" She rolled her eyes. "Like, okay—if we crash and die on the spot, it wouldn't be so bad, but what if we end up in a coma?"

He shook his head and got out. She pouted and followed suit.

Shane had insisted that they grab a proper meal before going after Rind and had picked out the place since it was tucked away from the dismal traffic jams.

Heat rolled over her the instant she stepped out, along with a salty tang that suggested the sea.

"There's a beach nearby?" she exclaimed when he sauntered up to her.

"You like the beach?"

"Yeah! I hardly ever get to go..." she faltered when he came to a stop right in front of her.

She blinked up at him. Wait, he's so tall. I mean, I'm too bloody short. I'd have to stand on my tippy toes just to—the heck are you thinking, Ev!

Her breath hitched when he leaned towards her, hand reaching up to her face. She clamped her eyes shut. What's he doing!

His fingertips brushed her cheek like the gossamer touch of feather-light ferns, which stirred up a rabble of butterflies inside. She felt his hand remove something from her hair. She emitted an audible exhale and opened her eyes in time to see him flicking away a pine needle.

Her cheeks kindled red-hot. "Where was I? Oh, yeah, I don't mean go now. Obviously. To the beach, I mean. Maybe another day—next time I pass by these parts or whatever."

"Choppy seas here—and rip currents. It's also congested and far from clean." Shane cocked his head and surveyed her with his ghost smile. "I can take you to a nice beach further away. Nothing in sight but calm seas, white sands and forest..."

Evanna cleared her throat and aimed her gaze at the crowded terrace in her line of sight. "You...used to go to beaches a lot?"

He motioned for her to follow him and led the way out of the car park. "I lived near one before moving to Komoreby."

"Oh." She fell into step with his relaxed gait. "Your family moved so you can go to Kom High?"

"No, my dad had other reasons."

"I live with my mom and Aunt Jan," she offered, hoping to hear more, though his impassive mask that was now in place gave her no clue of his thoughts.

"Your parents are separated?"

"No, my dad passed away in a car crash."

He shot her a look, forehead creasing into a frown. "I'm sorry."

"I was only two—I don't remember him." She twirled a lock of hair as she ambled along. "So, you live with your dad? What about your mom?"

He took a good moment to reply, which came out in a low voice, "I don't feel like talking about it right now..."

Evanna muttered, "Oh, I didn't mean to be nosy."

"You're not—it's just me."

What does that mean?  Seagulls squawked overhead, and she lifted her head to see their white forms riding the thermals against the blue sky.

"Evanna."

She started. "What?"

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Evanna walked on in resolute silence.

He sighed and said softly, "Fair enough."

An array of smells greeted her when they arrived at the outdoor food court. It was packed with throngs of people under the sweltering sun, some puffing out plumes of scented smoke from shisha. A few stray dogs prowled around in search of scraps, and she hoped one would come her way. The soundscape was composed of sizzling food, clanking pots and loud conversation. Small restaurants and food stalls hemmed in the space, most of which showcased buffets of piping hot food. Their prominent graphics and chalkboards announced their offerings, most of which featured fish and marine animals.

Shane led her to a vacant wooden table that was affixed to the paved floor. She plopped down on the clunky bench under a yellow canopy.

He stood by the table, hands in pockets. "So, what do you feel like having?"

"What are you going to have?" she asked.

"There's a decent burger place here. I can get you a—"

"Oh, no, thanks."

"Rice?"

"Yeah, but," she said, eyes sweeping over the area, "I'm not hungry. I'll just have bananas on the way. Go get some food, Shane."

Evanna sensed him watch her while she took a drink from her water bottle. Then he walked off.

He was soon back with two glasses of lime juice, glistening with condensation. He seated himself across the table and propped his elbows on the table.

"Thanks!" She grabbed the chilly glass. "You're done ordering already?"

"Yep." His languid hand rose to the level of his face, idle fingers twiddling with his thumb ring. "How are you feeling?"

She blinked and met his gaze. The fathomless pools of his eyes pierced her in all their intensity, and her heart overreacted on cue. The canopy's yellow bleed brought out the bronze undertones in his skin while the warm breeze animated his mop of hair. The kaleidoscope of colors and sounds around them seemed to fade into the distance.

Cheeks ablaze again, she wrenched her eyes away from him. "I'm okay."

He uttered some words in response—so low, they sounded unintelligible. Or is he speaking some other language? 

Evanna gave her head an imperceptible shake and proceeded to drain the glass of juice. "Shane?"

"Mm?"

"I've been thinking a lot—in light of recent events." She began unraveling the tangles in her long tresses, which burnt a bright coppery red under the flood of yellow. "I haven't exactly shared this with anyone."

He leaned forward.

She shot him an anxious look. "You probably don't wanna hear this right now."

"No, no, I want to..."

She perked up and double-crossed her legs. "Okay, imagine that you're living in medieval times, and someone tells you that you can go to the moon. What would you say?"

"Sounds cool, and I'd like to know how?"

"No, you'd call them crazy! What I'm trying to say is—what we think is impossible now can very well be possible."

"Go on." He took a drink from his glass.

"What if..." She paused, her eyes shining. "Our reality is a simulation!"

He watched her, lips twitching. "Hm."

"I mean, it has been speculated that it could very well be! A universe could be a simulation—like a video game. The game mechanics are the laws and forces of nature."

"Fascinating as this is—"

"Shane! Let me finish!"

"Okay, I'm listening."

"See? You're behaving just like the medieval dude! You're thinking I'm a conspiracy freak or it's impossible!"

"I didn't say that," he said, his attention unwavering. "I'm all ears."

Mollified, she regarded him with narrowed eyes. "If you were a medieval dude confronted with the idea of going to the moon, you said you'd like to know how."

"Yep."

"So here's how you can create a simulation of this scale." Extracting a pen from her backpack, she grabbed a tissue from the holder in front and started scribbling. "I dunno if you're familiar with this, but..."

Evanna drew a number line marked from zero to three, with doodles at each number. Then she held it up for him to see.

"Cute," he whispered.

She scowled at him. "Focus! This is super cool stuff—I mean, the content, not my doodles."

"I'm focusing..."

She jabbed a finger at the line. "This is the Kardashev scale showing technological progress on a scale of zero to three—based on how much energy is used. A type one civilization would be using all of the solar energy that falls on their planet. So, you can guess where we stand on this."

He scrutinized the tissue. "Below one?"

"Yeah, our human civilization would be right about there." Her finger hovered on a spot between zero and one on the graph. "So much of the sun's energy that falls on Earth goes to waste, and we still rely heavily on primitive stuff like fossil fuels, so we're not even a type one yet."

She placed the tissue on the table and continued, "If we can harness the solar power hitting Earth at any given moment, which is the equivalent of two thousand nuclear bombs, we can meet all our energy needs! How mind-boggling is that? Now imagine using all of it. That's what a type one civilization does. Even crazier—a type two would harness the energy of their whole star. And a type three....that of an entire galaxy!"

Shane raised his eyebrows.

"We can graduate to type two by building a Dyson sphere around the sun—or more accurately, a Dyson swarm. That's no easy feat given that the sun is so big, a million Earths could fit into it—and we might have to disassemble Mercury for material to build it."

"Mm." His fingers made a light drumming motion on the table. "Like a Death Star? But millions of times bigger?"

"Yeah, but that's a weapon—sorta like a Nicoll-Dyson beam."

"Okay, I need to brush up on my space engineering."

A laugh burst out of her. "Anyways, civilizations can do this and harness the power of entire stars for colonization efforts or space habitats or whatever they have in mind, or...they can choose to use all of that energy to power a humongous computer."

"I see."

"Yeah. A Matrioshka brain. A Class B stellar engine so powerful it can...run insane simulations!"

She took a lungful of hot air and paused for dramatic effect. Shane just listened, brow furrowed.

"I mean, look at us," Evanna went on. "We spend so much of our lives playing video games. And often set in a bygone era."

"Like Arcana?" His lips inched into a smile. "You play it?"

"Yes! Like Arcana!" She grinned. "You play it?"

"We played a lot last year. Now it's CoN. Though Junho and Max still do."

"Oh." She rested her chin on her palm, suddenly distracted by the idea of Shane playing her favorite game.

He took a swig from his glass. "So, simulations like video games."

"Yep." She straightened up. "They may be running multiple simulations that are so epic, they could very well be like parallel universes. Think different servers in an MMORPG. So, we could be in one of these simulations. We even have big limitations in place—just like in a game."

"Limitations?"

"I mean, like, the very inconvenient speed limit that's constraining us—the speed of light. Nothing can go faster than that—or even at that speed, unless you're massless like a photon. And other star systems are so far away that it takes years and years for light to reach them! At our current fastest speed, it'd take us, like, seventy-thousand years to reach Proxima Centauri, the nearest star! We're so isolated! It's sorta like an open world video game that has a massive ocean or whatever that prevents you from wandering off too far."

Shane sat still, hands now steepled in front of his face. "You've put a lot of thought into this."

"I have." She leaned forward excitedly. "So what'd happen if you push the simulation to its limits? Or do something crazy? Like, you accelerate beams of protons to an insane 99% the speed of light and smash them together in gigantic collisions."

He watched her, his face inscrutable. "Particle colliders?"

"Yep. What if you make the simulation glitch?"

"Hm."

"You've seen how games glitch, right? Doing stuff that defies game logic. Characters stuck between walls, suspended in mid-air, crashing..."

"So, you're saying what you did to stop that pot in mid-air at Olympus was...glitching?" His frown reappeared. "In a simulation created by an advanced civilization? Or...us in the future?"

Evanna blinked, startled by the connection he had made. "I didn't stop the pot! I'm just telling you one of my theories on...stuff."

"Right."

Her mind raced, wondering what was going on in his brain. Then her stomach growled. Thankfully, the hubbub around them drowned it out. Her wariness reasserted its control over her head. Let's not get carried away now, Ev. What if he thinks you're actually crazy. And he's too smart to think this is just idle speculation!

She folded her arms over her chest. "I think I've said enough."

A heavy sigh emanated from him.

Then he got up and disappeared into the crowd, the order receipt peeking out from his hand. Evanna propped up her face and watched him go.

She was impressed by how fast he hit the nail on the head. The idea of Shane knowing her secret was both scary and exciting, but most of all, she was surprised at the relief she felt. Just sharing her wild theory with him brought with it a sense of peace, which now swirled inside like a gentle breeze.

Shane returned and placed two plates of food on the table—one covered in wrapping in the telltale shape of a burger and another that was steaming brown rice with a colorful assortment of side dishes. He sat down and nudged the plate of rice to her.

She stared at it. A rich, spicy aroma permeated the air, which made her stomach emit a plaintive wail of longing.

Evanna tilted up her head and beamed a glowing smile his way. "Thank you!"

Shane faltered in the process of unwrapping his meal. "You're welcome."

Her smile dimmed ever so slightly as she zeroed in on the suspicious, brown gravy on one side, which prompted her to lift the fork and give it an experimental jab. "What's this?"

"TVP."

"Oh..."

A subconscious compulsion made her inspect the meaty chunks as if she expected it to be something else. Smile reverting to its previous brightness, she dug into her food. The hot, flavor-laden spoonful ignited her taste buds.

He observed her with a smile. "You won't tell me anything more today?"

Mouth full, she shook her head.

He sighed.

"Mm, this is so good!" she finally managed to mumble. "The curried jackfruit is super delish! And the potatoes and the beetroot curry and the kangkung—okay, I can't decide. Wait, did you know I don't eat meat?"

"It's not hard to guess you're vegetarian."

"I'm vegan."

"Oh," he said softly, fixing her with his attentive gaze that offered no glimpse into the soul within.

She swallowed the piece of potato she was chewing. What does "oh" mean?

"How do you know if someone's a vegan?" He smirked. "They'll tell you."

She blinked, her spoon halfway up to her mouth—and scowled at him. "Oh, so original, Shane. Very funny!"

He chuckled.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Are you gonna tell me about lions or cavemen or canine teeth or what's gonna happen on a desert island now?

"Lions eat meat, Evanna," he said in a serious tone, though his lips betrayed an infuriating twitch.

"Are you a bloody wild animal? Why are you wearing clothes?"

"But we have canine teeth."

"Hippos have the biggest canines in the world, and they eat plants!"

"Plants have feelings. Have you thought about that?"

She gawped at him in incredulity and jabbed her fork into a fat wedge of potato, which was sautéed to golden perfection. Oh, of course! How can I forget plant rights?

"You're top of the class in bio, but you don't know plants have no brains? They're not sentient! This potato isn't the same as—that dog over there!" She waved her fork at a dog who was licking a paw by a distant table. "There's a reason we'd happily visit a fruit harvest, but not a—"

The rest of her words came out in an annoyed rant, far from the calm eloquence she wanted herself to adopt.

He barked out a laugh, which didn't abate her annoyance at all—then his gaze softened. "I'm just messing with you. It's hard to resist when...Let's just eat."

Evanna huffed and shoveled a spoonful of rice into her mouth. Oh, for heaven's sakes, Ev. Can you not get triggered? She watched a seagull pecking at some left-overs on a nearby table.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked.

"What?"

"Once you get to this person's house?"

"Um, I have some important questions to ask him."

"What questions?" He took a bite from his burger, which her eyes carefully avoided.

It's probably factory-farmed as well. Her heart ached, though she mustered up a smile when she caught his eye. Now, Ev, don't say a word. He'd hate you forever.

"Evanna?"

"Huh?" She shook her head. "It's secret. Thank you for helping me with this whole thing. I appreciate today—and you're feeding me this super yummy food."

"You've fed me too."

"That's just—it's because of me that we're doing this right now. When you could be doing whatever it is you do on public holidays."

"Just watch something, read a book or play a game—other than homework."

"Mhmm. And maybe hang out with the others?"

"Hm."

She prodded a chunk of young jackfruit, coated in spice-laden curry. "And go on secret dates with Alcina?"

She cringed inwardly the second the words tumbled out. You've done it now, Ev. Why can't you keep your mouth shut!

Confusion flitted across his face. "What?"

"I thought you were dating her—aren't you?" She accidentally mushed the jackfruit she was toying with and its insides splayed into a sinewy mass on her plate. Wait, he can't be actually dating her—or he'd feel awkward about this trip.

His expression was indecipherable, and his lips succumbed to the smile that tugged at them. "No."

"Of course. Not like you can talk about it. You might be worried I might go blab. And I'm just being nosy, I guess. You probably get asked this a lot anyways—"

"Evanna—" He barked out a laugh. "She's not even my type."

"Alcina's, like, perfect and smart, but she's not your type?" She held her breath. She's awful too, but you probably don't know that! 

"Are you shipping me with her?"

"No, of course not! Why would I?" A laugh bubbled up. "I ship you and Ash."

He coughed. "What?"

"I meant in a bromantic way!"

"Mm, someone's watching yaoi," he drawled in a low voice.

"Oh, shuddup—no, I don't! And this isn't something I've come up with. Some of your fangirls totally ship you and Ash, and in a romantic way too. I hear this stuff now and then." Evanna giggled. Thanks to Mari-chan.

He shook his head and facepalmed.

Holy cowsies! He's not into Alcina? The spiciness intensified the heat she was experiencing. She grabbed the water bottle and took a swig.

"Evanna, this burger isn't bad at all," he said, bunching up the wrapper. "I can get you one to try later—"

She spit out the water. It drenched the front of her tee.

Shane raised his eyebrows and muttered, "GG."

"It'll dry." She flapped the damp material and blew on it. Maybe it's a fishcake in there, and he doesn't consider it—

"It's actually—"

"I do not wanna try it."

His lips quirked up at the corners. "Okay."

Time slipped by, and the chaotic soundscape swallowed them again.

"Done?" Shane asked, observing her empty plate. "There's somewhere we absolutely have to go now."

"Huh? Where?"

"Not far—it won't take time."

Shane was soon leading her out of the compound and down a thoroughfare teeming with people and street vendors. It was almost like an extension of the bustling food court they just left. Smells intermingled into an olfactory sea that washed over her. They wove through the crowds, Evanna trotting after Shane's tall form.

"Shane?" she called out.

The noise was too loud. Shane gave no indication he heard her as he sauntered past a cart of rambutans, his hands buried in his pockets.

Evanna didn't give herself time to reconsider her course of action. She darted forward, clutched his arm and fell into step by his side.

For a split second, he stiffened—then he looked down at her, his lips easing into a smile. "Are you trying to strangle my arm?"

"Hmph." She relaxed her grip while her cheeks turned the color of the rambutans.

Then her wandering gaze fell on a street vendor selling fried dough sticks, which sizzled in vats of oil. Her nose tingled with the piquant smell of frying food. They walked past another vendor roasting nuts—and yet another selling dhal vadais.

They were passing by a cart with fish ball skewers when she informed him wryly, "Those are animals too, by the way."

"Beans aren't animals, Evanna," he said without missing a beat.

She blinked up at him.

"If you actually looked—you'd have seen it was a bean burger."

Her jaw fell open. "What!"

He chuckled. "Is that surprising?"

"No, I mean, you just wanted to try it?" she chirped over the din, and then words tumbled out of her mouth in quick succession, "or you're doing the whole flexitarian thing? Which is cool! I mean, you'd save a ton of greenhouse gas emissions and water and energy. And bring down deforestation. Plus, like, really help, 'cause only four percent of mammals on Earth are wild now, the rest being us humans and farm animals we breed, which is insane. Anyways, like, you don't eat meat one day a week?"

He laughed. "I don't eat meat seven days a week."

"Huh? That means what, you—"

"It means I eat it on the eighth day of the week."

They came to an abrupt halt at a busy cart. A middle-aged woman was whipping up what appeared to be a colorful soup at blinding speed, while a glass case displayed even more colorful glutinous cakes.

Evanna watched in a daze as Shane conducted the transaction with a smile. "Two bowls. Boleh?"

The lady returned the smile and went to work. With practiced ease, she ladled shaved ice into a sizeable bowl, followed by red adzuki beans and neon green strings of rice-flour jelly—finally sloshed with a copious helping of creamy milk. The spectacle was complete when she poured in palm sugar syrup that diffused in a splash of caramel brown.

"Coconut milk," Shane told Evanna, who stood rooted to the spot.

"Yes, homemade coconut milk," the woman said, eyes crinkling as she filled up the next bowl. "Freshest in town, lah."

Seconds later, she thrust the bowls into their hands before turning to her next customer.

Shane ushered her to the side of the cart and nodded at the cakes. "The kuih's delicious too. You can try it next—if there's any space left after that cendol."

She stared at the dessert in her hands.

Then she slowly raised the spoon and inserted it into her mouth. Cool sweetness swilled over her tongue, like a frozen heaven dissipating the remnants of her hot, aromatic lunch. Her giddy mind emitted a dopamine blast of rainbows as vibrant as the food before her.

She looked up at Shane, who watched her with his ghost smile.

A long minute elapsed.

He suddenly looked alarmed. "Evanna? Are you going to cry?"

"No!"

"Please don't."

She swiped at her eyes with one hand and fanned herself. "It's just the heat!"