SCARS & PETALS

"You don't get it, Haruki. You never listen! I didn't come here for a lecture!"

"Brother, wait! I didn't mean—"

The road stretched out, quiet and endless. A faint light appeared in the distance, and the figure walked toward it. But with each step, the light seemed to move further away. Then, suddenly, the sound of screeching tires tore through the stillness.

"Brother!"

A deafening crash follows. Haruki jerks awake, gasping for air. 

He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the clock: 3:47 AM. Another sleepless night. His t-shirt clings to his skin, damp with sweat. He buries his face in his hands, muttering to himself. "Again huh?"

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and checked the time again, even though he already knew.

"Three hours until work," he muttered to himself, leaning forward. 

— Haruki was a cameraman. A tall and lean, standing at about 6 feet, with an athletic build shaped by years of training. His dark hair is usually tousled or tied back, and his sharp features give him a rugged, intense look. 

Working at Ecliptica Studios, the place was already buzzing when Haruki stepped in with his dark circles under his eyes. Yumi was the first to spot him from her desk, where she was loudly munching on a bag of chips at 9:00 in the morning.

"Whoa, look who decided to join the land of the living!" she called out, pointing at him dramatically with a chip. "Haruki 'The Vampire'. Let me guess: no sleep again, huh?"

Haruki gave her a tired smirk. "Morning, Yumi. And no, thanks for asking."

"Oh, you need to get that checked, dude," Ken piped up from the other side of the room. His chair creaked as he leaned back, balancing a pen on his upper lip. "I'm telling you, ASMR is the cure. I've been watching these videos where people whisper about peeling oranges. Works like a charm."

Yumi burst out laughing. "Orange peeling? Seriously, Ken? That's what you do in your free time?"

Haruki shook his head and walked past them toward his desk. "I'll stick to my methods, thanks."

"Which are?" Yumi called after him. "Letting your ceiling stare back at you all night?"

Haruki chuckled despite himself as he sat down, but his amusement was short-lived. The weariness of another sleepless night was catching up with him.

The door to the office banged open, and Ryan strolled in, juggling two takeaway coffee cups and wearing mismatched socks—again. His tie was slightly askew, his usual look of barely-contained chaos.

"Alright, team! Listen up!" Ryan announced, placing one of the coffees on Haruki's desk with a flourish. "Haruki, you look like death warmed over. This one's for you. Extra shot of espresso."

Haruki took the cup with a nod of thanks. "Appreciate it."

"What was it this time?" Ryan leaned against Haruki's desk, crossing his arms. "Nightmares? Haunted bedsheets? Or wait, did the aliens finally abduct you?"

"Still no aliens," Haruki said dryly.

"Shame. Would've made a great story for the company newsletter."

Ken snorted. "Boss, when's the last time we even had a newsletter?"

Ryan waved him off. "Details, Ken, details. Now, back to business." He reached into his bag with dramatic flair, pulled out a folder, and slapped it onto Haruki's desk with an audible thud. Papers spilled out like confetti, adding to the theatrics.

"Listen up, everyone!" Ryan's voice boomed, drawing the attention of the entire office. Even Yumi paused mid-chip, eyebrows raised.

"What's this about?" Haruki asked, eyeing the folder warily.

Ryan leaned in, practically buzzing with excitement. "It's finally happening, people. The opportunity of a lifetime. A big deal. No, the big deal."

Ken rolled his chair closer. "What kind of big deal are we talking about here?"

Ryan opened the folder with a flourish, revealing a sketch of a glowing flower. "This, my esteemed team, is the Lunar Bloom. Rare. Mysterious. Practically mythical. And our client wants us to be the ones to find it, document it, and immortalize it!"

"The Lunar Bloom?" Yumi asked, intrigued.

Ryan nodded enthusiastically. "That's right. It only blooms under very specific conditions, in a remote countryside location, and the details are still hazy. But," he added, holding up a finger, "our client is willing to pay a small fortune for this. We're talking big bucks, people. Enough to fund whatever ridiculous hobby you've been putting off. I'm looking at you, Ken, with your sudden interest in drone racing."

Ken shrugged. "Fair."

Yumi's eyes lit up. "Wait, so this isn't just another one of your overhyped assignments?"

"Overhyped?" Ryan looked genuinely offended before breaking into a grin. "This is the real deal, Yumi. No gimmicks. No fluff. Just the pure thrill of discovery—and, you know, ahem a payday that could make us all very happy."

The room buzzed with excitement. Even Haruki, who had been skeptical, found himself drawn in by Ryan's enthusiasm.

"Who's doing what?" Haruki asked, cutting through the chatter.

Ryan clapped his hands together. "Glad you asked, my man. Here's the plan. Yumi, you're on research. I need every legend, every whisper, every GPS coordinate that might give us a clue where to find this thing. Ken, logistics. Make sure Haruki has the gear he needs—cameras, lenses, backup batteries, survival kits, the works."

"And me?" Haruki asked.

Ryan's grin widened. "You're going on-site, obviously. You're the best we've got, Haruki. No one else can capture this flower the way you can. Plus, you know the countryside like the back of your hand. You're the linchpin of this operation."

Yumi raised her coffee cup. "To Haruki, our Lunar Bloom hunter!"

Ken clinked his mug against hers. "And to us, the geniuses behind the scenes."

Ryan joined in, lifting an empty folder as a makeshift toast. "To the whole team! Let's make history, people."

Haruki nodded, his expression a mix of determination and nostalgia. As the team dived into their tasks, he packed his gear, the weight of the mission settling on his shoulders. It wasn't just about the job anymore—it was about going back to where it all began, confronting his past, and maybe finding more than just a flower.