The second mini piano lesson was, to be kind, an endearing disaster. Seina's fingers seemed to have a will of their own, pressing the wrong keys and creating dissonant sounds that made Thalya hunch her shoulders in restrained laughter.
"It's not 'The Bear's Forest,' it's 'Für Elise,'" Thalya corrected, trying to maintain a serious teacher's posture while her eyes betrayed her amusement.
"To me, it sounds like a bear with a toothache," Seina muttered, focused, her tongue pressed against the corner of her mouth.
It was in that moment of clumsy concentration that the sound came.
A familiar, insistent tapping against the windowpane.
Thalya stopped laughing immediately, her face lighting up with instant recognition. "It's her again."
Seina lifted her eyes from the keyboard, musical frustration instantly replaced by curiosity. She watched as Thalya stood and opened the window with the reverence of someone welcoming an honored guest. The white owl landed on her outstretched forearm, its round black eyes scanning the room.
"Hey, cutie," Thalya whispered, her voice carrying a sweetness reserved only for moments like that. She picked up a piece of raw chicken from a small bowl by the window. "Hungry, aren't you?"
The bird pecked delicately at the food, allowing Thalya to stroke its white feathers. Then Thalya turned, meeting Seina's gaze—she had been watching everything with almost childlike fascination.
"Want to try?" Thalya offered softly.
Seina froze. "I… I don't want to scare her."
"You won't. She trusts. Come on."
Seina stepped closer, her movements cautious against the silent carpet. Thalya took another piece of chicken and placed it in Seina's open palm.
"Just keep your hand still. She knows what to do."
Seina's heart pounded. She extended her trembling hand. The owl tilted its head, studying the new offering, then pecked gently at the food. A sigh of relief and awe slipped from Seina's lips. Encouraged, she lifted her other hand and, with a courage she didn't know she possessed, gently brushed her fingers against the bird's chest.
The feathers were unbelievably soft—like solidified clouds. The owl didn't move, accepting the touch.
And then it happened.
A smile. Not the small, shy one Thalya was used to seeing. This was wide and genuine, stretching across Seina's face and revealing a perfect row of teeth. Her brown eyes narrowed, almost closing, in a squeeze of pure, undeniable happiness. The lines of worry and exhaustion that seemed carved into her features simply vanished, erased by that instant of unfiltered joy.
Thalya stilled.
The world around her blurred. Sound faded. All that existed was that image: the pale owl, Seina's warm hand stroking it tenderly, and that smile. That smile, like a sunrise after an endless winter. It was the most beautiful and devastating thing she had ever seen. The girl who carried the weight of two lives on her shoulders, in that instant, carried nothing at all. She was only light. A sharp ache of something so deep it almost hurt bloomed in Thalya's chest, stealing her breath.
Thalya stepped closer and ran her hand gently through Seina's loose hair, the strands silky and smooth—so different from the tangled mess they had been when they first met.
As if sensing the intensity of the moment, the owl spread its wings silently and disappeared into the night.
Seina, still flushed and with a trace of that smile lingering on her lips, looked at Thalya. "She's… incredible."
Thalya had to swallow before she could speak, her voice slightly hoarse. "Only with you, apparently."
The air in the room felt light, filled with a sweetness that was almost tangible.
"I think it's time to sleep," Thalya said at last, her tone gentle. She didn't want the night to end, but she knew it was the perfect closing note.
Seina, her body relaxed by happiness, nodded.
"Yeah, I'm already tired."
They went through their nighttime routines in peaceful silence. When Seina emerged from the bathroom in her pajamas, the bed was already made, but Thalya stood beside the closet, staring at it thoughtfully.
"Everything okay?" Seina asked, drying her face with a towel.
Thalya turned quickly, as if caught off guard. "Yeah. Just… thinking." Her gaze shifted from the cozy bed to Seina, and a new kind of determination—mixed with a hint of nervousness—lit her eyes. It was an expression Seina couldn't quite decipher.
"Well then… good night, Thalya."
"Good night, Seina," Thalya replied, her gaze still restless.
As Seina settled into the soft bed, feeling exhaustion and the lingering warmth of happiness weigh down her eyelids, the last thing she saw was Thalya still standing there, looking at the closet that held the air mattress—like someone quietly forming a plan.