SCARS & PETALS

"Hey, you!"

Haruki froze mid-step and glanced up. Tsukiko stood a few paces ahead, her sharp eyes narrowing at him. She was dressed in sturdy hiking gear, her hair tied into a no-nonsense ponytail, and she clutched a clipboard like it was a weapon.

"You're standing in the way of my quadrant survey," she said, her tone clipped.

"Your… what?" Haruki raised an eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed.

"My survey." She huffed, stepping closer. "This area is part of my research zone, and you're trampling over valuable data points."

Haruki stared at her blankly for a moment, then casually stepped aside. "There. Happy?"

Her lips thinned. "I don't think you understand how delicate this ecosystem is."

"Easy there, clipboard queen," Haruki drawled, pulling free. "I'm just taking pictures."

Their bickering was loud enough to send birds scattering from nearby trees. Eventually, Tsukiko sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Look," she said. "You clearly don't know what you're doing out here. The Lunar Bloom isn't just rare—it's fragile, and it only grows under very specific conditions."

"You think I came here not knowing that?" Haruki replied with a smirk.

"Well .. I- what i'm trying to say is" Her eyes wandering around while trying to answer. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to underestimate you or anything but… I'm just saying that you need proper data to find it." 

Haruki hadn't expected her to be the apologetic type. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You know," he began, his voice casual but with a hint of sincerity, "we could've searched for the flower together. It'd be more efficient anyway." He paused, then added "Plus, I have experience exploring the woods."

Tsukiko had merely raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to him with a coolness that he had come to expect.

"Exploring the woods with a stranger man?" she said dryly. Her tone was sharp but not hostile. "Appreciate the thought, but I prefer to work alone." Without waiting for a response, she brushed past him, her steps deliberate and unwavering.

Haruki stood there for a moment, watching her retreating figure. That was Tsukiko—independent, determined, and fiercely protective of her own path. 

He almost laughed but stopped himself. "Suit yourself," he muttered under his breath, adjusting the strap of his camera bag before heading off in a different direction.

Night had fallen by the time Tsukiko returned to her inn, her body aching and her spirits low. Despite hours of searching, she had found no sign of the flower or even a clue to its location. The frustration weighed heavy on her, but she refused to let it show.

After a quick, hot shower, she settled into the small comfort of her room. Steam rose from her cup of instant ramen as she flipped on the TV, hoping to distract herself from the day's disappointment.

The soft hum of the news anchor's voice filled the room, her words blending into the background—until a certain phrase cut through the haze of Tsukiko's thoughts.

"BREAKING NEWS: Tigers Spotted In The Woods, Hikers Warned."

Tsukiko froze, the chopsticks halfway to her mouth. Her eyes snapped to the screen, where grainy footage of the forest played. The anchor continued, her tone urgent.

"Local authorities have issued a warning after several tiger sightings were reported near the hiking trails. Travelers and researchers are advised to avoid the area until further notice."

Her heart thudded in her chest as the implications sank in. The woods she'd been exploring all day—the same woods Haruki had ventured into—were now a potential hunting ground for tigers.

"Great," she muttered under her breath, staring at the TV. 

The news had only heightened her uncertainty. It felt like a sign—a warning. 

But, as always, Tsukiko pushed forward. She had a mission to complete, and nothing would stop her from getting that flower. Not even a damn lion.

Tsukiko packed her bag early in the morning and quietly slipped out of her inn, determined to find the Lunar Bloom.

The forest was eerily quiet that morning. Only the rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot broke the silence. Tsukiko's breath came out in soft puffs as she made her way deeper into the woods, the path barely visible.

But then, there was a sound. A rustling, faint at first, but growing louder. Tsukiko's heart skipped a beat. She stopped, straining her ears. 

Her grip tightened on the strap of her bag as she stepped back, her mind racing with possibilities. She froze in place, ready to turn and run. The noise got closer, and her feet shifted instinctively.

Crunch!