It was a misty day when Cassi finally gave me a clean bill of health. The air was cool and damp, softening the world around us in a silvery hush. I could tell he was excited; he peeled his purple fruit with an almost childlike glee, popping sections into his mouth one after the other. Every time our eyes met, he blushed slightly, like he was holding back laughter or a secret.
Once he had finished his fruit—waiting politely for me to finish mine—he practically bounced with energy.
"I have a surprise for you!" he blurted, unable to hold it in any longer.
A strange tug hit my heart, part warm and part wary.
Cassi jumped up from the table, startling the birds, and motioned toward the door. "Come on!"
"Careful coming down the ladder," he said, and when I looked down, I saw him already standing at the bottom, arms slightly lifted in readiness—like he was preparing to catch me if I slipped.
The ladder wiggled underfoot, but I gripped the sides tightly and managed my descent. I climbed down two rungs, then dropped the rest of the way into the sand. My legs throbbed from the jolt, but I landed.
Cassi gave me a quick once-over, then his smile widened. "You're a natural at rope climbing."
"Tails and I had our share of scaling bookshelves," I said, brushing myself off.
He raised an eyebrow. His curiosity was palpable.
"My little sister and I used to sneak into Father's study to read," I added with a shrug, recalling quiet evenings in front of the fire. But then the darker memories came flooding in, and I bit down on the rest of the story.
Cassi seemed to sense it. He stood very still, like he didn't want to break the moment by speaking too soon.
"It's the past now," I said softly.
He nodded, and just like that, the grin returned. "Do you want to see your surprise?"
"You didn't have to do anything special…" I scratched the back of my neck. "You've already done so much."
"Close your eyes," he said more gently this time.
I did as told, and felt his hand come up over my face, shielding my already closed eyes as he led me forward. His palm was warm and steady. I couldn't help it—a small giggle escaped.
"I don't want you peeking before we get there," he whispered close to my ear.
He stopped us after a few more steps. "Okay. Open them."
I blinked into the gray light and found a neat little pile of hand-crafted objects: a simple but sharp stone knife, a bit of woven netting, a carved wooden bowl, and what looked like a sling for carrying supplies.
"All the stuff from your boat was wrecked," Cassi said, practically bouncing with anticipation. "So I made you new ones."
A pressure built behind my eyes.
Father never cared about birthdays. Or gifts. Tails had been the only one who ever made things for me—and even then, we had to be careful. Everything she gave me I hid beneath my bed.
Now here were gifts again. From someone who cared.
"How long did this take you?" I whispered.
Cassi sat beside me, his grin spreading even further. "Not long. Not with the birds helping." He paused, then added in a softer voice, "We're alone together, remember?"
I held the stone knife in my hands, heart too full to speak. The tears came before I could stop them.
"Vie?" Cassi's voice was sharp with concern. "Vie, what's wrong?"
I threw my arms around his neck, startling him. He froze for a beat, then wrapped his arms around me too. His hands—rough and steady—ran along my back in slow strokes.
"Thank you," I whispered.
When we pulled back, I wiped at my face furiously. He didn't say anything—just looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.
"I want to show you how I gather food today," he said.
But something tugged at the back of my mind. "Cassi, how many days have I been here?"
He tilted his head. "Maybe ten."
Ten days. Ten days gone—and I hadn't done a single scrap of the work I was meant to.
"Why?" he asked, watching me closely.
"I'm supposed to be studying the jungle," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. "That's why I came. I have so much work to do."
I expected a gentle chuckle, maybe a teasing remark. But he just… froze.
"Cassi, I'm a student," I said carefully. "I thought you'd guessed that."
He nodded slowly, but his stillness made something cold start to grow in my chest.
"I need to start my research," I added. "Will you help me?"
For a moment, nothing. Then he snapped back into motion—too fast, too cheerful. His smile stretched wide, almost too wide.
"Of course you are!" he said brightly. "The boat, the books… it all makes sense now! Come on—I want to show you how I fish."
I opened my mouth to say something else but stopped. Something deeper stirred. A quiet warning.
"Alone together?" he offered his hand again.
"Alone together," I echoed. But it rang hollow now. Something had shifted. I could see it in his eyes.
I glanced back at the pile of gifts—so thoughtfully made—and felt a sigh escape me.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Cassi added, as if remembering something casual. "I had one of my birds take your letter for you."
"To send to Tails?" I asked, blinking. "But… where?"
"They have their ways," he said with a shrug. Then, in a lighter voice: "Fishing's better in the morning."
He tugged my hand.
And I followed—but something inside me stayed back with the letter and the gifts and that hollow little echo of alone together.