Mira tells herself it’s practical. Adrian likes things organized, and she understands that about him. Still, it stays with her as they head back. The clothes he bought, the expenses he covered so fast, the way he discussed the next two weeks like a simple schedule to manage. She feels a real need to hold on to something that is hers. Stopping at the dorm makes sense. She can pick up her things, bring her own money, and keep the arrangement balanced in her own mind.

  But as Mira and Adrian step out of the elevator, Mira feels the trauma of being caught by the crowd is nothing compared to the living ghost standing before her.

  A very familiar figure stands directly in front of Mira’s room. She has a short silver ponytail and piercing green eyes that fix on them with sharp intensity. She is exactly as tall as Mira and, appearing more like a sister just a year or two Mira’s senior, and most unsettling of all, she is wearing Mira’s own suit.

  "Clara Larkspur... why are you here?" Mira’s strength deserts her so suddenly she almost needs the support of the wall to keep herself standing, her palm pressing hard against the cold surface.

  Clara’s lips pull back into a confident grin. She ignores Mira’s distress, her attention pivoting entirely toward the man at Mira's side.

  "Yo, Adrian! Long time no see," Clara says, her tone bright and dangerously casual. She sweeps her eyes over him, taking in his height and stature. "You have grown up a lot. How tall and handsome. So, are you dating now? Selfish daughter—you didn't tell me a thing. I had to piece it together from your scandals and social media rumors. How mean!"

  "Mom! That is the kind of thing you talk about in a hallway!" Mira's voice cracks, her face heating up with a mix of shame and frustration.

  Clara lets out a sharp, mocking laugh before commanding. "Now, go inside your room. I need to talk to this man first."

  Mira feels like the world is collapsing around her. Her mother traveled halfway across the planet, leaving her precious lab behind, and the first thing she does is completely ignore her own daughter to demand an audience with Adrian.

  Mira hauls the heavy luggage into her room. Judging by the size and weight of the bags, she wonders with growing dread just how long Clara intends to stay.

  She stands in the silence of the soundproof room, leaning at the shut door. Not a single sound carries through from the hallway. Left in the void, she can only wonder what they are discussing on the other side.

  ?

  Adrian watches Clara, genuinely surprised. He only met her once, nearly ten years ago for less than ten minutes, yet here she is, moving with such natural ease, claiming his chair as her own. She gestures for him to sit down, acting as if the room belongs to her.

  Their eyes meet. Clara looks like Mira in her second personality, with the confident, wild aura of a genuine mad scientist—someone who is never scared and never tells a lie.

  "Don't scan me with your clinical eyes," Clara says. "You didn't treat my daughter as a lab rat experiment, did you?"

  "I didn't," Adrian finally answers. "But I’ll admit, it looks that way."

  Even though the situation is still a secret, Clara looks like she already knows exactly what happened. "How is my daughter?" she asks. "She’s cute and scary at the same time, isn't she?"

  "Was this why you spoke to me about the Celestial Bloom all those years ago?" He looks her in the eye, totally ignores her question. "Mira was diagnosed with hypersensitivity, close to hyperactivity, with hallucinations, strange voices, strange dreams. She’s sensitive to everything, with an abnormal healing bone that no medicine can touch. You know our gene myth. You pushed your daughter to meet me when she was nine, and you encouraged her to go to Vermillion just to test your theory, didn’t you?"

  Clara laughs out loud. "As sharp as the rumors say. So you already drew your own conclusions from the beginning?"

  She grows serious, her eyes locking onto his. "Mira’s situation is real. As for the myth—it’s just a myth. I was just trying my luck, or anyone’s luck, really. If modern treatment couldn't cure her, I had to see if anything else could help, even if it was just folklore. The rest was fate. You’re the one who found her; you came to Marivena on your own. At the time, I was off in the mountains with my fungi research and had no idea what was happening."

  She leans in, her expression changing to genuine curiosity. "But I’m still dying to know—what happened back then? What changed her so completely? After she came back, she was different. More focused, calmer. She spent all her time studying and aimed for the most prestigious university in the world entirely on her own. I didn't push her. So... does that answer your questions?"

  "What do you know about the Celestial Bloom?" Adrian asks.

  Clara looks genuinely caught off guard. "Oh? You found it? What was it like in person? What are the actual effects? Did it really make Mira shrink away?"

  "Don't play games," Adrian says. "You knew exactly what happened the second you heard about the incident at the Vermillion Mushroom Center. You're just here for the meeting in the afternoon, aren't you?"

  Clara grins. "Wow, caught again. Fine, let’s get straight to the point, then."

  She leans in, her eyes narrowing. "Tell me: what is Mira to you, and how do you plan to fix her? Depending on your answer, I might just give you what you're looking for."

  "She’s the most important person in my life," Adrian says. He clenches his fists, not even bothering to hide his worry anymore. "If this continues, she’ll turn into a real fairy—with real fairy powers—and it’s going to consume her. I’m afraid there will come a point where she won't be able to turn back into a human again."

  Clara looks at him. "So," she says softly, "what do you already know?"

  "Her bioelectric signature syncs with mine," Adrian answers, looking Clara in the eye. "It helps her return to normal if we stay close enough for a long period, but only when she’s in a state of deep relaxation. The problem is, she can’t relax around me when she's awake. And I have no idea how much further she will evolve or how the Celestial Bloom will change her."

  He has kept this secret for so long, unable to tell anyone else and unwilling to worry Mira.

  Clara asks, "You’re scared too, aren’t you?"

  Adrian says, hesitating. "The only solution I can think of right now is to use my miRNA to help her system regulate to prevent the transformation. My genes are designed to dampen the volatility of hers. If I infuse a synthesized version of my 'stabilizer' traits into her system, it may act as a biological anchor. My cells may chemically force hers to stay calm, reduce the adrenaline surge in her brain and therefore help her to hold her shape."

  He says, his voice losing its warmth as he enters a purely analytical state. "The transformation itself won't kill her, but if the gene rewiring goes wrong, the damage is irreversible. There is no room for error. Currently, we have to prioritize the safety of the therapy over speed."

  Clara exhales, patting his knee to comfort him. "Listen, Adrian. I know you're obsessed with research and modern medicine. But if Mira is truly turning into a fairy, remember that your family has been a bridge between two worlds for generations. They didn't have gene editing, miRNA or CRISPR a thousand years ago, yet they found a way."

  She lets her hand fall away, then smiles, though it’s a cold, knowing look. "You should know by now—Mira is sensitive. Those of us who carry the fairy gene are sensitive to everything, especially emotion. She needs a guardian—to protect her from a world that’s too much for a fairy. It requires a love where both sides are willing to sacrifice their blood and their lives without fear or calculation.”

  Only then does her voice lose its playfulness, smoothing out into a cool, crystal-clear warning. “But I must warn you this. A fairy does not only receive what surrounds her. Prolonged closeness reshapes both sides. If you poison her with toxic intentions or treat her like a specimen, it will destroy her—and it will destroy you, too. Don't let your curiosity ruin something this beautiful.”

  “And why are you telling me this?” Adrian asks.

  She pauses, clasping her hands together in her lap. "Adrian, listen. Fairy isn’t just about shrinking or bioelectric resonance with nature. With a dormant gene, we already age differently. We look younger than other people our age. But an adult fairy can live for a thousand, maybe two thousand years. They heal fast. Their cells regenerate like plants. And that’s only the part modern people are obsessed with.”

  "Aren't you afraid I’ll conduct research on Mira?”

  “Hardly. If you hadn’t gone to Marivena to take responsibility for the research you once wrote—and to get those kids out of that lab, Mira included—I wouldn’t have had to come here.”

  Her expression hardens when she continues. “Someone is still doing the research. They are digging up for Mira’s medical records. Who do you think that is? Someone from your Vale? Or someone else who knows the secret?"

  Adrian’s eyes darken with calculation. He looks past her, staring into the middle distance. The question forces him to re-examine the cold facts he has wrestled with for a long time. The research he conducted at the Vale a decade ago was meant to be a buried secret. He wiped the system personally, yet someone unearthed it. They must have known the files existed to go looking for them in the first place. He doesn't exclude the possibility that Lucian and Selene are involved, but they both never want him touching anything related to fairies and destroyed all the materials themselves.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Today meeting itself is also questionable. Although the surge of in one night is rare, it should have been handled within academic research in Vermillion, yet Lucian suddenly demands a meeting of national and international biological researchers. What is his motivation?

  He takes a long moment, weighing his suspicions against the lack of concrete evidence.

  "Unfortunately, I can't answer your question."

  "So," Clara asks, "what's your plan now?"

  "In the upcoming weeks, we need a device to modulate her emotions and inhibit extreme reactions via strong stimuli, transmitting a signal to me whenever she is at risk."

  "And?"

  "She will stay at my place during that time."

  Clara laughs. "Are you asking for my permission now?"

  "No," Adrian answers calmly. "I'm just informing you."

  “What is your concern?” she asks.

  His expression gives him away before he speaks. He lowers his voice slightly.

  “If only I have her childhood medical record, I can understand how her system was shaped before the fairy gene ever activated. A dormant gene still leaves a trace. It influences how sensitive the brain becomes, how quickly the body reacts, and how closely emotions connect to physical changes. Those patterns tell me how close her system has always lived to a limit. Without that history, I only see how she is now. I don’t want to build something that works only when conditions are stable.”

  Clara looks him in the eye, a small, daring smile playing on her lips. "So, if I somehow managed to have the data and give them to you... would you even be able to understand and use them wisely?"

  He blinks slowly, his eyes reflecting a deep, analytical stillness.

  “Can you remember everything after reading them only once?" Clara asks.

  "Yes," Adrian says, his focus narrowing.

  "In detail? Even the complicated formulations?"

  He nods.

  Clara pulls a small, matte-black tungsten cylinder from her bag.

  A single-use biometric vault.

  She flips open her laptop and plugs the device into the side port. She keeps her thumb pressed firmly against the scanner on the cylinder’s casing, her pulse authorizing the stream.

  "Watch," she says. "One pass. Then it’s gone."

  The screen ignites. Adrian tracks the information as the data cascades past. He watches the stream Clara’s modern research, and Mira’s medical records. Finally, the screen fills with ancient symbols in a strange, flowing language that pulses like living light.

  A sharp sound echoes from the device. A tiny wisp of acrid smoke rises from the port as the internal chips short-circuit. The laptop screen goes black. The hardware is now a useless piece of melted metal, and the data has vanished from the physical world forever.

  Clara looks at Adrian with curious eyes, clearly enjoying the display of his ability to absorb such a vast amount of information in such a short time. "Do you need help with anything else?

  “Is there anything I can do to make her feel more comfortable?” Adrian asks genuinely.

  Clara’s smile turns clearly entertained. “Like what?”

  He feels the tease and continues anyway. “Does she prefer warm food or cold snacks when she’s tired? How does she react to background noise like appliances or traffic? Does she favor sneakers, flats, sandals, or something else indoors? What towel brand does she usually use at home? If I need to choose something for the house, what kind of scent would be safest?”

  Clara laughs out loud and holds up a hand. “Adrian—slow down. You really turn this stay into an experiment.”

  Her tone softens as she continues. “There are a few things you should know. She hates lab chemical smells the most. After that, strong artificial perfumes. And… traveling by airplane is the worst! ”

  Then, she adds lightly, “You don’t have to plan everything. A little surprise makes things lighter. You can talk things through with Mira directly. That’s what she enjoys.”

  Finally she stands up and reaches out to pat his shoulder. "I entrust my daughter to you then. See you later."

  With that, she leaves the room.

  ?

  When Clara opens the door, Mira already steps forward and wraps her arms around her, pressing her face into Clara’s shoulder. The tears come all at once, before she can stop them. Her breath breaks, and she starts to cry, as if she has been holding it back for far too long.

  Clara pats Mira’s back softly.

  “It’s alright,” Clara says. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

  The sound of her mother’s voice makes Mira cry harder. Clara holds her until the sobbing slows. She pulls back just enough to wipe Mira’s cheeks with her thumbs.

  “Are you scared?” Clara asks.

  Mira nods.

  “Was it hurt?”

  Mira shakes her head. “Just a little dizzy.”

  Clara watches her closely. “How was he?”

  Mira looks at her mother. “Mom, what did you talk to him about? And why did you come here all of a sudden?”

  “Honestly, you look a lot better now that you’re talking about him.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Mom. I was scared to death. What do you know about the Celestial Bloom?”

  Clara shakes her head.

  “No more than what Adrian already explained to you.”

  She continues evenly, “The Celestial Bloom is a story that has stayed within our family. It has always been treated as an inheritance carried through the maternal line, from mother to daughter.”

  She looks at Mira.

  “That’s also the reason why I became a mycologist.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me anything?” Mira asks.

  Clara looks at her. “So what did you expect from the story? To start searching for it, just like I did?”

  “It would at least give me some warning,” Mira says, pouting.

  Clara says. “Like, don’t get close to any Vale. Don’t touch any mushroom. Basically stop existing?”

  Clara sees that Mira doesn’t understand any of it. Every answer circles the question instead of meeting it. She watches the frustration build in her daughter's chest.

  “Then will I turn into an actual fairy?” Mira asks. “How are we supposed to fix this?”

  Clara answers too easily. “Oh. I thought Adrian had already figured that out.”

  “And,” Clara continues, “why can’t you relax around him when you’re awake?”

  “Mom,” Mira says, flustered. “Seriously. Is that the only way?”

  “Don’t you love him?” Clara doesn’t hesitate.

  Clara sees the word hit Mira like a physical blow. Heat rushes to her face so fast it’s embarrassing. She doesn’t even have time to think before her reaction gives her away.

  Clara watches her for half a second, then nods. “So that’s a yes. That explains why your rhythm syncs so well,” she continues, completely unfazed. “So what’s the problem?”

  The question seems to hit Mira all at once. She clearly didn’t expect her mom’s reasoning would sound exactly like his.

  “When we’re just friends, it feels normal. Easy. Kind of fun,” she says, her voice uncertain. “Talking, walking around, working together. That part makes sense. But when he gets closer, something feels off. I don’t know why.”

  “Closer how.” Clara asks. “did you two kiss yet. Hand holding. That kind of closer?”

  “Mom! Nothing like that. Just… closer.”

  Mira hesitates, then looks up. “Is something wrong with me?”

  Clara smiles. “That’s completely normal for a first love,” she says. “Everything suddenly feels bigger. You start worrying about doing things right. You start worrying about closeness itself.”

  She goes on, “And Adrian would feel intense to anyone. He looks at people like he’s studying the world. That can be a lot.”

  Then she asks, gently, “So tell me—how is he when he’s with you?”

  Mira thinks about it, turning the feeling over in her head.

  “He usually lets me take the lead,” she says. “He follows whatever topic I bring up, even the silly ones.”

  Her mouth curves slightly, then the smile fades. “After I started shrinking, everything changed. He switched into his lab mode. He talks to me like a research subject. Heart rate, reactions, numbers, patterns.”

  She sighs. “Instead of a normal relationship, it feels like a research mission. Like I’m always under his microscope…That’s the feeling.”

  Clara looks at her for a moment. “And you understand he’s doing this for your safety,” she says. “This is the only way he knows how to protect you right now.”

  Mira lets out a breath. “Yeah. I get that. But somehow I need exposure therapy just to stay close to the guy I like without shrinking. Tell me how that’s normal.”

  “He really worries about you,” Clara says. “You two are speaking different languages right now, and that takes time. Just like any normal couple.”

  She smiles softly. “Give him the chance to learn you too. Tell him what you like, what you dislike, what helps you feel comfortable, what you hate the most. Adrian will listen.”

  “But wouldn’t it be easier,” Mira says after a moment, “to love someone in the same field? Similar personality. Similar way of thinking. You’d understand each other faster.”

  “Your father and I are in completely different fields.”

  She continues. “The point isn’t similarity. If you were in the same field, you might just end up as colleagues. Or friends.”

  She looks at Mira. “Your boyfriend, on the other hand, happens to be good at almost everything. And he still supports your work even though you’re in different majors. That’s a good thing.”

  Mira’s face heats up before she can stop it.

  “What—no,” she says too fast. “He’s not— I mean, we’re not there.”

  Clara reaches over and pinches Mira’s cheek.

  “Are you seriously such a trap girl?” she says. “You hang out with him, go on dates, laugh together, act cute, ask him to do everything for you, and you still won’t call him your boyfriend?”

  “Mom!” Mira protests.

  “Enough small talk,” Clara says, checking her watch. “I have a meeting at two. I’ll leave campus at four and go straight to the airport.”

  “You’re leaving that soon? I thought you’d stay longer.”

  Clara glances at the suitcase by the wall. “Oh, that. Your dad and I planned a short trip after this. It’s been a while.”

  “What? You’re going on a trip while your daughter might be in danger?”

  Clara answers easily. “You’re doing fine, Mira. If fairy abilities show up,” Clara continues, “it could actually be fun. Making flowers bloom. Flying around. Playing with fairy dust.”

  She smiles, clearly entertained by the idea. “I would have loved that at your age.”

  With final, deep hug, Clara closes the door behind her, smoothing out her suit. The realization feels surreal. Mira is staying in the very same room Clara occupied thirty years ago. Adrian is positioned in the exact spot where Lucian once stayed.

  This setup is too deliberate to be a random coincidence. Clara is certain this is the work of dark magic. Someone at the university has a hidden agenda and intentionally recreated the past. She wonders who is behind this and what they are trying to achieve.

  Clara leaves the dorm with that thought in mind. She has to admit, the Vale men have a certain charm. Their cool, detached brilliance always draws people in, but Clara can sense a warmth and kindness in Adrian that Lucian doesn’t have.

  Lucian was a year younger than her and they shared the same project group, but he never showed her even a hint of respect. He was far too heartless, never giving a second thought to anyone he considered beneath him. If the connection between a Fairy and a Stabilizer is truly a matter of fate, then perhaps it simply skipped her generation.