The invitation came in the form of a crumpled city map.
Sora dropped it onto Leo's desk just as class ended, her eyes shining with mischief.
"Wanna ditch the dorms for a day?" she asked.
Leo looked at the map. It was of the Old Quarter, a quieter district at the edge of town, filled with cobbled streets, antique shops, and forgotten corners that hadn't yet been touched by chain cafes or modern architecture.
He raised an eyebrow. "Are we allowed to?"
She grinned. "It's not illegal if we don't get caught."
---
Saturday morning came with clear skies and a light breeze. Sora wore a loose tan jacket over her usual hoodie, and Leo showed up five minutes early, awkwardly checking his phone as he waited near the train station.
"You're early," she said, appearing beside him.
"You're late," he countered automatically.
They grinned at each other.
The train ride was short but filled with the kind of comfortable silence that only old friends share.
Sora stared out the window. "I used to live here before we moved. You probably don't remember."
"I kind of do," Leo said. "There was a big clock tower... and a bakery that smelled like cinnamon."
Her eyes sparkled. "Still there. We're going."
---
The Old Quarter greeted them like a slow heartbeat.
Shops opened lazily, children played with marbles in alleyways, and a street musician plucked a sad tune from a weathered guitar.
Leo breathed in. "It hasn't changed."
"Some things don't," Sora said. "That's why I like coming back."
Their first stop was the clock tower.
Still tall, still slightly leaning, still chiming two minutes late.
They stood under it in silence.
"I used to pretend it was a lighthouse," Sora said. "That if I ever got lost, it would lead me home."
Leo smiled faintly. "Did it?"
She looked at him. "Eventually."
---
They explored.
A dusty bookstore run by a sleepy old man.
An alley filled with murals of cats in samurai armor.
A garden behind a fence labeled "Do Not Enter," which they, of course, entered.
Sora sat on the bench there, head tilted toward the sky.
"Do you ever wonder what kind of people we would've become if we never left this place?"
Leo sat beside her. "All the time."
She turned to him. "I remember you cried when we moved."
He blinked. "No, I didn't."
"Did too. You hid behind a cardboard box and sniffled like a puppy."
Leo groaned. "Sora—"
"It was cute."
He covered his face. "Why are you like this."
She leaned back, eyes half-lidded. "Because someone has to keep you grounded."
---
They found the bakery next.
Same old woman at the counter. Same smell of cinnamon and flour and stories.
She remembered them.
"Oh, you two were always inseparable. You stole cookies when you thought I wasn't looking."
Sora beamed. "We didn't think. We knew you saw. You let us."
The old woman chuckled. "Only because you looked like twin kittens."
They left with a small bag of warm bread and two cups of spiced milk.
As they walked along the river, Sora grew quiet.
Then she said, "You were my first friend."
Leo turned.
"And for a long time," she continued, "I thought you'd be my only one."
He didn't know what to say.
So she added, "Now that I'm here again... I don't want to miss the chance to see what kind of people we can still become."
Leo stopped walking.
The river glinted beside them, gold and blue and moving forward.
He looked at her.
And said, "Neither do I."
---
They got back before curfew.
Kai was waiting by the dorm stairs, arms crossed.
He squinted at Leo.
"You smell like cinnamon and nostalgia."
Leo blinked. "...What?"
Kai smirked. "You went somewhere with her, didn't you?"
Leo didn't answer.
Kai clapped his shoulder. "Bro, I hope you know what you're doing. Because everyone else? They're watching now."
He walked off whistling.
Leo stood under the stars.
And wondered if he was really ready for what came next.