The hum of the Sumeru forest filled the air as you led Faruzan through the winding trails, her teal hair shimmering. She followed with quiet curiosity, her usual sharp demeanor softened by the weariness of relentless work.

Tonight, you had planned something different—something to lift her from the monotony of her routines, a moment to remind her of the beauty she so often overlooked. The path opened into a secluded glade, the trees parting to reveal a vast, starlit sky. Faruzan stopped in her tracks, her gaze drawn upward, wonder flickering in her eyes. A soft blanket spread across the grass awaited her, with a lantern casting a warm, golden glow nearby. “You planned all this?” she asked, her voice carrying rare, unguarded warmth.

Grinning, you gestured for her to sit. “I thought it was time to show you my world—astronomy.” Settling beside her, you pointed to the constellations above, tracing their shapes with your finger. “That’s Orion, the hunter. And over there, Lyra. Did you know Lyra was named after a mythical harp said to soothe even the fiercest hearts?”

Faruzan tilted her head, intrigued. “A harp for the stars? I suppose even celestial bodies need a melody.”

You smiled, sharing small facts, weaving stories about the stars and their ancient names. She listened intently, her weariness fading as the night unfolded. Occasionally, she’d interject with musings, her sharp mind connecting dots between the cosmos and her own studies. The stars, she remarked, seemed almost alive, each one a fragment of a story untold. The two of you had lay side by side, the forest fading into tranquil night. The soft rustling of leaves, the distant chirp of crickets, and the gentle glow of the lantern made the world feel still. Faruzan turned to you, her voice softer than usual.

“Thank you for this. I think I’d forgotten how vast the universe really is.” The stars above bore silent witness, and it reminded her that, moments like these made the universe feel infinitely smaller—and infinitely more meaningful.