Y/n stood at the edge of the reef, feet half-submerged in the shallow tide, staring out at the horizon where the sky met the water in a blur of pale blue and gold.

Behind them, the village hummed with life. Children laughed, splashing in the shallows. A few of the older hunters were mending nets near the marui pods, their voices low and easy.

No one looked at Y/n. No one ever did anymore. Not directly. Just sideways glances, quick and pitying, like a wound no one wanted to reopen.

The waves lapped at Y/n’s ankles. A distant ikran cried out over the water.