The waves lapped gently against the sides of the boat as land slowly came into view. A small crescent-shaped island, green and wild, sat nestled between two jutting cliffs. Palm trees leaned into the wind like they were listening to the sea, and gulls circled lazily overhead.
"That's it," Nami said, eyes scanning the shoreline. "Uninhabited, usually. I use it sometimes to lay low."
Kairos stretched his arms above his head and grinned. "Vacation island, huh? Should've brought a hammock."
"You're the one who fell out of the sky with nothing but wet socks."
"Touché," he said, wiggling his toes.
As the boat bumped against the shore, Nami jumped off first, dragging one of the heavier sacks onto the sand. Kairos followed, shaking water out of his boots.
The island smelled like sun-warmed salt and wildflowers. It was quiet, save for the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a distant bird.
"We'll stay here a day or two. Rest. Resupply. Then I make for the next island."
Kairos gave a mock salute. "Captain's orders. Got it."
Nami rolled her eyes but didn't hide the small smile tugging at her lips.
---
They set up a small camp near a cluster of trees. Nothing fancy—just a tarp strung between branches and a fire pit that Kairos assembled with surprising speed. Nami handled sorting supplies while he lit the flames with practiced ease.
As the fire crackled and evening fell, the air grew cooler. The stars began to peek out again, and the hush of night settled around them like a blanket.
"So," Nami said, poking the fire with a stick, "what's your story, sky man?"
Kairos leaned back on his hands, eyes on the stars. "My story? Dangerous question. Could lead to excessive charm and irresistible storytelling."
"I'm already regretting asking."
He chuckled. "Well, I already told you about the compass and the whole world-hopping bit. But you want more, huh?"
Nami looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I want to know who I'm sharing fire with."
Kairos grew thoughtful. The flames danced in his eyes.
"I've seen a world where people rode on wind currents like birds, with wings made of crystal and thread. Another where the ocean floated in the sky, and ships sailed through clouds instead of water. There was this planet where the trees glowed when you laughed. I stayed there for a week, just telling jokes."
Nami's brows lifted. "You're serious."
He nodded. "Every place has something worth remembering. Even the scary ones."
"Scary ones?"
"One world was stuck in twilight. No sun, no moon, just this eerie glow. People whispered like they were afraid the night would hear them. That place... yeah, I didn't stay long."
She was quiet for a moment. "Do you ever go back? To any of them?"
Kairos shook his head slowly. "Nope. Once the compass pulls me, that's it. New place. New people."
"Sounds lonely."
He gave a half-smile. "Sometimes. But I like helping. And there's always someone who needs a little light."
Nami's gaze softened. She opened her mouth to ask something else, then hesitated.
"What about your own world? Where you're from? Family? Friends?"
For a moment, just a moment, something flickered across Kairos' face. Pain. Real, raw, and unhidden. Then it was gone, replaced by his usual easy smile.
"My parents died when I was young. Mugging gone wrong. I used to think if I'd been a little older, stronger, maybe... I dunno."
Nami didn't say anything. Her fingers curled tighter around the stick in her hand.
"It's fine," he said quickly, tone lighter. "Now I get to roam the multiverse without anyone back home worrying if I've vanished into a lava world or something. Total freedom."
She didn't laugh at that. But she didn't look away either.
"You're kind," she said quietly.
Kairos blinked. "Me? Nah, I'm just good-looking and available."
She scoffed, but a hint of pink touched her cheeks, barely visible in the firelight.
"Thanks, though," he added.
"For what?"
"For noticing. Not everyone does."
The fire popped between them.
After a moment, he launched into another story—one about a world where kids could shape clouds into creatures, and how he accidentally made a cloud-lizard that wouldn't stop following him. Nami laughed then, a real one. Full and unguarded.
And in that small camp on a quiet island, it felt like something shifted.
Not a dramatic change.
Just the beginning of trust.