I was sitting peacefully at one end of a sturdy, old wooden bench. On the other end, he sat — just beside me.
I tried really hard to light the fire, but maybe it was shy around me. Or maybe... it just didn't like me.
Because despite all my effort, it kept playing hide and seek — still hiding quietly among the stones.
The wind was rushing past us, wild and strong.
Even the raindrops swayed with it, like a train swaying on its tracks — and when the train sways, everyone inside sways too.
There was weariness on my face. Maybe because my efforts had failed... and I had no choice but to accept that.
"I kept my face still and slowly turned my eyes toward him."
But I couldn't understand what emotion rested on his face.
Just then, I felt his eyes fall on me… and then—
Before I could say anything, filled with silent surprise, he extended his hand toward me.
And in a soft, calm, detached voice, he said:
"Can I know your name now? I did save your life…"
I froze.
I stared at him blankly — I honestly didn't know what he meant.
I had expected him to tell me a way to leave this place or offer some suggestion.
But this?
Without thinking much, I said,
"So you saved my life... just to know my name?"
He looked at me, his eyes wide in disbelief — and then, he burst out laughing.
"What?"
Now I was surprised.
"So you thought... if I wasn't curious about your name, I would've just let you fall?
Or worse, maybe in that genius mind of yours, you think I would've pushed you myself, even if you had survived?
You're unbelievable."
He shook his head, and with a faint smile said,
"I didn't save you to know your name.
I saved you because… I'm a good man."
When he said that last part, there was a strange silly pride on his face — a kind of false dignity and silent arrogance.
And his eyes… they looked at me differently. Not like before. Like a stranger would — calm, unreadable.
(He asked my name — fine. But then why say "after all, I saved your life"? Anyone would feel weird, right? Silly person…)
I looked at him, my gaze tilted slightly, and asked in a sharper tone,
"Why do you even want to know my name?"
He replied,
"Why shouldn't I?
I've met you twice.
Once, I saved you from falling.
And then you broke me — not once, but three times.
Without even hating me properly.
Because of you, I got soaked in the rain.
You like sitting in trees.
You pluck fruits from gardens instead of flowers.
And from someone like me — someone so genuinely nice — you didn't even... forget love, not even once smiled at me while talking.
And let's not pretend — you already know my name, don't you?
So why can't I know yours?
Do you have a weird name or is it just a secret?"
I blinked slowly.
"Well… yeah, that was a bit dramatic. But... some of that is actually true.
I just don't want to admit it.
And yeah, I do know his name.
But it's not like he told me.
I kind of… figured it out? I think?
I don't even remember properly."
I looked at him with a soft, distant expression and said,
"My name is Freya Isaac."
He listened to it calmly, almost emotionally — like he'd been waiting for that moment.
(Though if that's true… it would be so cringe.)
Then suddenly, he looked up at me and said,
"Isaac Newton's daughter, Freya Isaac?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"People like you — the moment they hear the name Isaac — immediately assume a relation to Newton.
But let me tell you something. Isaac Newton was an only child.
He never got married, never had a relationship, and definitely had no kids." I said.
He looked at me with a blank face, then added —
"I'm genuinely surprised. I didn't know that about Newton.
But then again…
Someone who invented things that still scare children and mess with adults' brains —
who would've wanted to marry him back then?"
(Now he's saying weird things about Isaac Newton?
I'm not going to listen to this nonsense.
I love him.)
Isaac Newton didn't get married because he was a genius.
A visionary.
Incredibly wise.
His mind didn't work like ordinary people's.
He didn't like talking much.
He was cold, indifferent, mysterious — not like other humans.
He never found someone like himself… get it?
So don't say anything bad about him.
Sean looked at me — as if he'd just seen a new side of me —
then his lips curved slightly, and he said,
"So… you can fight for a man who died 400 years ago…
but can't even talk properly to the guy standing right in front of you?
You are unbelievable."
His words slipped gently into my ears, slow and unhurried—
but the way they were crafted… it was strange.
Even in that soft pace, they hit my brain like a spark.
For a moment, I almost laughed out of his silliness.
But there was something about the nature of his words—
something dual, like light's character, always two-faced.
And maybe that's why, instead of calming down,
I felt even more restless.
There was nothing clearly visible on his face,
but I could recognize it through his eyes—
the same eyes that had remained still and emotionless until now,
now carried a trace of quiet frustration I could sense.
Before I could say anything,
his words had already slipped into my ears—
and the color within those words… felt faint.
"The rain and wind... both have stopped."
I looked at him.
He was facing outward as he said those words.
Perhaps the rain had already stopped a little while ago,
but maybe my focus had wandered somewhere else—
so much so, that the silence of the rain I'd been waiting for with such attention…
I hadn't even noticed it when it arrived.
Even the wind had quieted down now,
and instead of feeling eerie,
it had begun to feel soothing.
"Yes… I should go home now,"
I said those words to myself—
but perhaps… they reached his ears too.
I thought maybe he'd say something to me,
but to my complete surprise,
without a single word,
he slung his guitar over his shoulder and started walking away.
Still, I kept thinking—maybe now he'll say something.
But without even glancing once in my direction,
he just continued forward.
"He is weird."
I wasn't about to stand there like a fool, staring at him like some crazy person.
So I grabbed my bag,
and very deliberately dusted it off a little more forcefully—
just so he could get ahead.
Then, I too began walking… slowly.
"He was walking so slowly… like an ant."
(if you don't want to say anything to me
Then why don't you just walk fast already!)
I randomly started dusting off my dress,
fixing my hair—
And that's when I heard his voice:
"If the universe wishes… we'll meet again,
Isaac Newton's relative."
Trying to match his sharp tone, I said—
"I don't want the universe to wish that...
because I have no desire to meet you again."
Sean had already walked some distance,
but I still heard his voice echo back—
"That… hurts.
But if the universe wills it—
then your wish won't matter. Bye!"
I wanted to say something more to him…
but by then, he had gone far—
too far to hear anything I could've said.
I gave up the act of pretending to dust things off,
slung my bag over my shoulder,
and began walking as well.
The wind had turned pleasant now.
The ground was still damp from the rain.
My clothes had dried a little,
and my hair—though still slightly wet—
had turned cold.
I, too, stepped down the stairs and began walking toward home.
The bouquet of flowers that had been given to me by that old woman—
I had carefully tucked it away inside my bag.
I didn't see Sean Wood anywhere.
The city's glitter didn't seem much affected by the falling rain—
but I had been.
Because I'd stayed out without informing anyone for so long,
and I had no idea how much scolding awaited me once I got home.
Slowly, I left behind the noise and crowd—
and entered a small alleyway draped with red flowers.
I stopped in front of a modest, slightly charming wooden house.
The door… seemed like it wanted to open,
but the one meant to open it wasn't ready to yet.
Still—
I took a deep breath,
knocked gently,
entered the code—
and the door opened.
I quietly, tiptoed my way into the house—
but it was pointless.
Because the sound of my footsteps had already reached my sister.
And there she was…
standing right in front of me.