Imia resigned herself to her fate. She couldn't be honest about what the biology class was all about. Imia's mind was single-mindedly focused on tomorrow. In gym class, Jack spoke to Imia again, and he wished him a great time in Seattle. Imia explained at length that she had canceled the trip because she had scruples about her truck.

"Will you go to the prom with Wright?" He asked with a sudden sinking face.

"No, I'm not going to the prom at all."

"So, what are you going to do?" He asked, seemingly too interested.

Imia's instinctive impulse roared to tell him not to meddle. Still, she wisely lied.

"Do the laundry, and then I'll have to review for the trigonometric test, or I'm going to hang up."

"Will Wright help you with the review?"

"Roger," Imia emphasized. "Won't come to help me review. He's going somewhere else this weekend. Imia was surprised to notice that the lie came more naturally than usual.

"Oh." He began to grow triumphant. "You know, you can go to the prom with us anyway - that's going to be pretty cool. We can dance with you. He assured.

The image of Mary's expression that came to mind made Imia's tone a little too sharp.

"I'm not going to the prom, Jack, understand?"

"Okay." He sulked again. "I'm just talking about it."

When the day's lessons finally came to an end, Imia walked towards the parking lot without enthusiasm. She really didn't want to walk home, but Imia couldn't see how Roger could get her truck back. But then, Imia began to believe that nothing was impossible for Roger. Then, Imia's instincts were confirmed - Imia's truck was staying where he had parked his Volvo this morning. Imia shook her head in disbelief, then opened the unlocked door to see that the keys were in the igniter.

A folded white piece of paper rests on Imia's seat. She sat inside, closed the door, and opened it. It was his elegant handwriting, with only two words.

"Peace."

The sound of the truck's desperate roar startled Imia. She laughed self-deprecatingly.

When she got home, the doorknob was locked and the latch was open, just as she had left this morning. Imia walked into the house and went straight into the laundry room. Again, everything looks the same as it had been when Imia had left them there. Imiah rummaged through the pile of clothes for her jeans, and when she found them, she checked the upper pockets. Empty. Maybe Imia had hung up her keys long ago, she thought, shaking her head.

Following the same instinctive instructions that prompted Imia to lie to Jack, Imia calls Mary and hypocritically wishes her good luck at the ball. When Mary also wishes Imia and Roger the best of luck for their day together, Imia tells her that the plan has been canceled. As a third-party bystander, her disappointment was a bit more than necessary. After that, Imia quickly said goodbye.

Chuck was a little absent-minded at dinner, not just worried about work, Imia guessed, maybe it was a football game, maybe he just really liked Italian food - it's hard to say what Chuck was worried about.

"You know, Daddy......" Imia began, interrupting his musings.

"What's wrong, Imia?"

"I think you're right about Seattle. I think I'll wait until Mary or someone else can go with me. ”

"Oh," he said in surprise. "Oh, okay. So, do you want me to stay at home? ”

"No, Dad, don't change your plans. I have thousands of things to do...... homework, laundry...... I had to go to the library and the grocery store. I had to go in and out all day...... Go ahead and have fun. ”

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, Dad. Also, the fridge has dangerously little fish – we only have two or three years of food left. ”

"You'll make it, Imia." He laughed.

"I can say the same to you." Imia said, laughing. Her laughter was abrupt, but Chuck didn't notice. Imia felt guilty for deceiving him, and was close to taking Roger's advice and telling him that he was going there. Just almost.

After dinner, Imiah folded her clothes and put them in the dryer. Unfortunately, this kind of work can only keep the hands busy. Her mind was still idle, and it went completely out of control. She was torn between two thoughts, one side her expectations so strong that they bordered on pain, and the other a latent fear eating away at her determination. She had to remind herself again and again that she had made her choice and that she had no intention of turning back.

Too often, Imia took Roger's note out of his pocket and read it, drawing on the two little words he had written. Roger wished Imia peace, and Imia told herself over and over again. You just have to believe in this, and in the end, this will prevail over all other thoughts. And what about Imia's other choice, to remove him from his life? It will be unbearable pain in my life. Moreover, from the time Imia came to Vidonia, he had become everything in Imiya's life.

But a small voice in Imia's heart was worried, wondering if it would be very traumatic...... If it doesn't end well.

When it was too late and it was bedtime, Imia was relieved. She knew she was too nervous to fall asleep, so she did something she had never done before. Imia deliberately took some cold medicine, even though she didn't need it - it would allow her to fall asleep and sleep well for eight hours.

Normally, Imia would not condone herself for such behavior, but tomorrow the situation is complicated enough, and there is no need for her to make herself groggy from lack of sleep on top of everything else.

While Imia waited for the drug to take effect, she wiped her clean-washed hair until it was flawlessly straight, and then restlessly prepared the clothes she would wear tomorrow. When all the preparations for tomorrow were done, Imia finally lay down on the bed.

Imia felt both excited and nervous. She couldn't stop tossing and turning. Imia got up and rummaged through the shoebox that was hard to hold the CD until she found a compilation of Chopin's Serenades. Imia let it play quietly, then lay down again, concentrating on relaxing some particular part of her body.

Somewhere in this practice, the cold medicine took effect, and Imiya happily fell into a stupor.

Imia woke up early, but thanks to her unprovoked medication, she slept all night. Although she was well rested, she immediately fell into the hot-headed frenzy of the previous night.

Imiah hurriedly put on her clothes, smoothing the collar around her neck, and fiddling with the tan sweater until it covered Imia's jeans steadily. Imia sneakily glanced out the window and saw that Chuck was gone. A thin layer of flocculent clouds obscured the sky. They don't look like they're going to last long.

Imia finished her breakfast without knowing anything, and then hurried to wash the dishes. Imia peeked out of the window again, but nothing changed. Imia had just finished brushing her teeth and was back downstairs when there was a quiet knock on the door, and her heart thumped like a bird in a cage made of her ribs.

Imia rushed to the door, having a little difficulty opening the simple latch, but Imia eventually pulled the door open and there he was. The moment Imia saw his face, all the excitement vanished and was replaced by calm. Imia breathed a sigh of relief - he was here, and yesterday's fears seemed ridiculous.

At first he didn't smile - his face was grim. But after he had examined Imia up and down, his expression brightened, and he smiled.

"Good morning." He chuckled.

"What's wrong?" Imia looked down, making sure she hadn't forgotten any important details, like shoes or pants.

"We're a good match." He laughed again. Imia realized that he was wearing a long light tan sweater with a white shirt underneath and blue jeans. Imia laughed with him, hiding a secret regret - why did he have to look like a fashion model and not himself?

As Imiya locked the door, he walked towards the truck. He waited at the passenger door, with an easy-to-read crucifixion on his face.

"We made an appointment." Imia smugly reminded him, climbed into the driver's seat, and reached out to open the door for him.

"Where?" Imia asked.

"Fasten your seatbelts - I'm starting to get nervous."

Imia glared at him fiercely, and then obeyed his order.

"Where?" Imia sighed and repeated.

"Take National Highway 101 to the north." He ordered.

When Imia felt like he was watching his face, it was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road. Imia had to drive more carefully than usual through the still-sleeping town.

"Are you going to drive the car out of Victoria before evening?"

"This car is old enough to be the grandfather of that car - respect it." Imia replied.

Contrary to his negative estimates, they quickly drove out of the town. Dense bushes and vine-covered trunks replaced lawns and houses.

"Turn right onto National Highway 110." Imiah was about to ask, and he pointed. Imia obeyed in silence.

"Now drive all the way to the end of the road."

Imiah could hear the smile in his voice, but Imia was afraid to drive off the road, just to prove that his fears were right, so he didn't dare to look over to make sure.

"What's there, at the end of the road?" Imia wondered.

"A path."

"Shall we walk along?" Thankfully, Imiah wore tennis shoes.

"Is that a problem?" He sounded like he had expected it.

"Nope." Imia tried to make the lie sound believable. But if he thinks the truck is too slow......

"Don't worry, that trail is only 8 kilometers long, or about the same, and we're not in a hurry."

8 km. Imia didn't answer so that he wouldn't hear his own broken voice out of fear. Eight kilometers of sinister tree roots and loose stone paths are plotting to sprain Imiya's ankle or scrap it in some other way. It would be a humiliating journey.

Imia pondered the impending tragedy, and they drove in silence for a while.

"What are you thinking?" After a long time, he asked impatiently.

Once again, Imia lied: "Just wondering where we're going?" ”

"That's where I like to go when the weather is nice." When he had finished speaking, they all looked out the window and looked at the thinner and thinner clouds.

"Chuck says it's going to be warm today."

"Did you tell Chuck what you're going to do?" He asked.

"Nope."

"But Mary thinks we'll go to Seattle together?" He seemed pleased with the thought.

"No, I told her you canceled and didn't come with me - that's a fact."

"No one knows you're with me?" Now, angry.

"It depends...... I thought you told Milani? ”

"That does help, Imia." He yelled.

Imiah pretended not to hear.

"Are you so desperate for Victoria that you want to kill yourself?" When Imia ignored him, he asked.

"You said it was going to get you in trouble...... If we are together openly. Imia reminded him.

"So you're worried it's going to get me in trouble - if you don't get home?" His tone was still angry, and sarcastic.

Imia nodded, continuing to look at the road ahead.

He muttered in a barely audible voice, so fast that Imia didn't even understand.

They were silent for the rest of the journey. Imia could feel the angry reproach still sweeping over him, but Imia couldn't think of anything to say.

Then, at the end of the road, it shrunk into a narrow path trodden by countless footprints, and a small wooden sign stood beside it. Imiah parked the car on the narrow shoulder of the road and stepped out, afraid that he was still angry with himself and that he could no longer use driving as an excuse not to look at him.

It was warm now, even warmer than the warmest day since Imia came to Vidonia, and it was almost muggy under the clouds. Imia took off her sweater and tied it around her waist, glad she was wearing a light-coloured sleeveless shirt - especially when the 8-kilometre trek awaited him.

Imia heard his door shut, and Imia looked over and saw that he was also taking off his sweater. He turned his back to Imia and faced the endless forest behind Imia's truck.

"This way." As he spoke, he looked over his shoulder at Imia, his eyes still annoyed. He began to walk towards the dark forest.

"What about this path?" Fear was palpable in Imia's tone, and Imiah hurried around the truck to catch up with him.

"I just said there was a path at the end of the road, not that we were going to take that path."

"No paths?" Imia asked, struggling.

"I'm not going to let you get lost." He turned around and gave a mocking smile, and Imia let out a gasp. His white shirt had no sleeves and was unbuttoned, so the smooth, snow-white skin stretched from his throat to his marble chest. His perfect muscles no longer want to hide under his clothes. He was so perfect that Imia felt a pang of despair. This makes no sense, such a god-like figure cannot belong to himself.

He looked at Imia, bewildered by the tormented look on his face.

"Do you want to go home?" He asked quietly, a pain different from that of Imia soaking his tone.

"Nope." Imia stepped forward until she was right next to him. Imia was anxious, not wanting to waste every second she could still be with him.

"What's going on?" He asked, his voice so gentle.

"I'm not a very good hiker." Imia replied sullenly. "You've got to be very patient."

"I can be patient—if I try." He smiled, catching Imia's gaze, trying to pull him out of that sudden, unexplained frustration.

Imiah tried to smile at him, but the smile was too fake. He scrutinized Imia's face.

"I'll take you home." He assured. Imia couldn't tell whether the pledge was unrestricted or meant to leave immediately. Imia knew, and he thought it was because he was afraid of making him nervous. And Imiya was happy about it again, and Imiya was the only one he couldn't read minds.

"If you want me to cross this 8 km before sunset, you'd better start leading the way now." Imia said sharply. He frowned at Imia, struggling to read Imia's tone and expression.

After a moment, he gave up and led the way into the forest.

The journey was not as difficult as Imia had feared. The road was almost very flat, and he tossed aside the damp ferns and dense mosses for Imia. When he takes a straight path through a fallen tree or boulder, he will help Imia by lifting her elbow and letting go of her while she is still conscious. His cold touch landed on Imia's skin, and it always made Imia's heart pound, and none of them missed. On two occasions, when this happened, Imia caught the look on his face, and Imia was sure he heard it.

Imia tried to keep her eyes looking away, trying not to pay attention to his perfection as much as possible, but Imia often peeked at him. Each time, his handsomeness fascinated Imia and brought a wave of sorrow.

Most of the time, they walk in silence. Occasionally, he would ask random questions, a question he hadn't asked during the past two days of interrogation. He asks about Imia's birthday, his elementary school teacher, and his childhood pet - and Imia has to admit that she gave up on the whole project after raising three fish in a row. He laughed louder, louder than Imia was used to—the echo of a silver bell echoed through the empty forest, echoing around them.

The hike took Imia almost the entire morning, but he never showed the slightest sign of impatience. The forest stretched out around them into an endless labyrinth of ancient trees, and Imia began to feel uneasy, fearing that they would never get out of it again. He walked leisurely and easily through the green labyrinth, without the slightest doubt about their direction.

A few hours later, the sunlight that seeped into the forest from the dome of the tree house began to change, changing from a gloomy yellow-green hue to a brighter emerald hue. The sky must have cleared, as he had said before. When they reached the forest, Imia felt a shiver of excitement for the first time - but soon became impatient.

"Are we there?" Imia scoffed, feigning a sinking face.

"Almost." Seeing Imia's change of mood, he laughed. "Do you see the light ahead?"

Imia stared at the thick shade of the trees. "Uh, should I have seen that?"

He laughed wickedly. "Maybe it's a little early for your eyes."

"It's time to get your eyesight checked." Imia murmured. His evil smile was even more pronounced.

But then, after another 90 meters, Imia did see a light in front of the woods, a bright yellow glow instead of green. Imiah quickened her pace, growing by one point with each step. Now he let Imia go ahead and silently follow Imia.

Imia walked to the edge of the light, stepped past the last ferns, and walked into the loveliest place she had ever seen.

The meadow was small, almost round, and full of wildflowers—purple, yellow, and soft white.

Imia could hear the cheerful singing of a rushing stream not far away. The sun was shining straight overhead, filling the clearing with a misty oily glow.

Imiya walked slowly, amazed, passing through the grass, swaying flowers, and warm, golden-dyed air. Halfway through Imia turned around and wanted to share it all with him, but he wasn't behind him, not where Imia thought he was. Imia spun in place, searching for him, when a sudden wave of fear struck him.

Eventually, Imiah found him, still standing in the thick shadow of the tree, looking at him with a cautious gaze at the edge of the depression. It was then that Imia remembered that the beauty of the meadow had been completely driven out of his mind—the mystery of Roger and the sun, which he had promised to explain to him today.

Imia took a step towards him, and Imia's eyes lit up with curiosity. His eyes were cautious and reluctant. Imia smiled encouragingly, beckoned to him, and was about to take another step towards him. He raised a hand in warning, and Imiah hesitated and retreated.

Roger seemed to take a deep breath, and then he walked out and walked out into the bright midday sun......