Change The Times

“I just can’t believe how small everything looked! All the cars on the road, they looked like toys!”

Fali grinned at Mele’s bubbling excitement as he steered the car down the quiet country road. Their flight had been uneventful, but for Mele it was a revelation. Her energy filled the cabin; he found himself smiling despite trying to stay composed.

“You sound like a child at Christmas,” he said.

She giggled. “Can you blame me?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not really, no. But I’m surprised. Have you never flown before?”

She shrugged, her expression softening into thought.
“I have, but only in passenger jets. It’s nothing like being that close to the ground. Low and slow, y’know?”

He nodded, eyes still on the road.
“Yeah, I think I know what you mean. Funny thing is, I don’t think I’ve ever been on a commercial flight.”

Her head turned, surprise flickering in her eyes.
“Never? Not even once?”

He shook his head with a faint smile.
“Nope. The war happened, and long-distance civilian flights pretty much stopped. I only ever flew myself.”

Mele nodded slowly, reminded again how different their worlds were - hers filled with lights and stages, his with the hum of engines and chatter of guns masked by the whistling wind.
“Oh, true,” she murmured. “I forgot about that.”

Her smile returned, bright and fond.
“So, where to now?”

The indicator clicked as Fali turned the corner.
“The village, for food. Then home.”

She nodded, but her mind was far livelier than her calm reply. She knew they had to stay discreet, but surely a quiet stroll together wouldn’t hurt? Her thoughts spun through possibilities - cafés versus restaurants, crowds versus alleys, disguises versus casual blending in. She was still weighing the pros and cons when Fali’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Mele? …Mele?”

Her head snapped around, cheeks flushed.
“Sorry, yes?”

He looked a little embarrassed himself, his voice softer than usual.
“I was just wondering… if it’s quiet, would you like to walk through the village with me?”

Her eyes widened slightly.
“Both of us? But isn’t that risky?”

He nodded, eyes on the narrow street ahead.
“It is. Which is why it’d have to be quiet. Only if you want to, of course.”

A genuine smile spread across her face.
“Of course I want to. Fingers crossed, then?”

He smiled as the rooftops of the little village came into view beyond the trees.
“Yeah. Fingers crossed.”

“Goodness gracious, Mele. Do we really need that too?”

Fali stood behind the trolley, both hands gripping the handle as he watched Mele turn a bottle of rice oil over in her hands. She didn’t even glance back as she replied.

“Yeah. I want to cook some stuff.”

It wasn’t that he minded her enthusiasm - it was the growing mountain of groceries threatening to spill from the cart. He muttered under his breath,
“I look forward to it, but maybe you could pick something a little less expensive?”

She shook her head without hesitation.
“Nope. I’m paying, so I get to decide what we get.”

That made him straighten in surprise.
“You’re paying?”

“Of course,” she said lightly, as if the overflowing trolley wasn’t about to cost more than he made in a week. “I’m the rich one here, even if I don’t like to admit it.”

He frowned, taken aback.
“But you just-”

She turned, fixing him with a glare so sharp it cut him mid-sentence. Her eyes held his for just a moment too long - commanding, mischievous - before her expression softened into a teasing smile.

“You’re cute.”

And before he could respond, she pivoted on her heel and strode down the next aisle, leaving a very flustered Fali frozen in place, the trolley still halfway between two shelves.

“Look at them all!”

Mele pressed her face to the glass storefront, cupping her hands around her eyes to block the glare. Fali glanced up at the sign above them - a pet store. Through the window, a litter of golden puppies tumbled over one another in a pen, tails wagging, little yips echoing faintly through the glass.

Mele giggled softly every time one tripped or rolled onto its back. Fali found himself smiling.
“They’re pretty cute,” he said.

The words caught in his throat. Cute. When had he last used that word? He wasn’t sure.

He leaned closer to the glass, unburdened now that their shopping bags were left in the car. The puppies were all fluff and clumsy joy, probably just fed - full of chaotic energy. But then one turned and stared up at him, eyes big and brown, curious.

And suddenly, the world fell away.

The control stick was in his hand again, the throttle sliding back as Freyla dipped into a shallow dive. The streets below writhed with movement - people scattering as the airframe rattled around him, cannon smoke rolling past the canopy. His rounds tore into the ground, chewing through cars, walls, lives. He held the trigger too long.

Then, as he pulled up, something in the chaos froze him - two round brown eyes looking up through the smoke. A golden blur. A dog. Standing its ground even as the shells closed in. One of his own rounds, high-explosive, streaked toward it, trailing fire. He never saw the impact, but he didn’t need to. He’d seen enough to know.

A hand touched his shoulder.

“Fali?”

Mele’s voice, soft and careful. “Are you alright? You’ve got a scary look on your face. And your hands are shaking.”

He blinked, the world snapping back into place. The glass. The sunlight. The reflection of her worried face.

He glanced down - his hands really were trembling. Quickly, he stuffed them into his pockets, forcing a weak smile.
“I’m… alright.”

She didn’t believe it, he could tell, but she didn’t press. Her voice gentled.
“If you say so. Let’s keep going, shall we?”

The street around them was quiet, washed in afternoon light. He straightened and took a deep breath, the tension loosening in his chest.
“Yeah, let’s.”

She smiled and began walking again. Then, without a word, she slipped closer and looped her arm through his.

His breath hitched. The world seemed to pause. He could still feel the faint tremor in his hands, even buried in his pockets - until her arm pressed softly against his, steady and warm. She slid her hands into her own pockets, preventing their connection from coming apart.

Her shoulder brushed his with every step. His heartbeat thudded against his ribs, but the shaking eased. Warmth replaced it.