Chapter 71: She's Crystal.

Dua skipped into the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune, radiating good vibes. She spotted Steven leaning against the cabinet in his nightwear, nursing a steaming cup of coffee.

“Seeing you’re still in your pajamas, I guess I woke up early today!” Dua grinned, her eyes sparkling with playfulness.

Steven glanced at his wristwatch, raising an eyebrow. “No, you didn’t. I’m just feeling a little lazy today.”

Dua tilted her head, skepticism etched on her face. “You wear a wristwatch to sleep?”

“Nope. I put it on the moment I wake up,” he replied with a smirk, and she nodded in feigned understanding.

“So, what are you cooking today?” she asked, leaning against the center table, inquisitive.

“Still deciding… You got any ideas?” he responded.

Dua assumed a mock-serious thinking pose. “How about a breakfast skillet?”

He raised an eyebrow, skepticism painted across his face.

"It’s a hearty mix of scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, potatoes, and cheese,” she explained.

“I know what it is. But do you want to make breakfast or lunch? You know how long that takes.” He said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you out,” she assured him with a grin.

“No, thanks. I’d rather not have someone chopping her fingers into the meal,” he replied, and she shot him a glare.

“I won’t!” she protested, crossing her arms defiantly.

“You don't have classes today?” he queried, changing the subject.

“I do, but they start at noon,” she replied, striding toward the store room to gather the ingredients.

“Uh, I need a little help here!” she called out, her voice echoing in the kitchen.

Steven scoffed and made his way to assist her. “There’s a basket and a trolley here,” he pointed, a smirk on his face. “Put them to good use.”

Dua rolled her eyes and chose the basket. After meticulously filling it with ingredients, she faced him. “You have hands, right? Put them to good use,” she smirked, sauntering out of the store room.

"Hey!" Steven shouted at her, but she paid him no mind. Scoffing, he carried the basket back to the kitchen. He almost slammed it onto the center table, but then remembered the delicate eggs inside. Instead, he placed the basket down gently, his frustration simmering just below the surface.

"Good boy," Dua retorted with a sarcastic smile, and Steven rolled his eyes in response.

Dua dipped her hand into the pocket of her mini gown and pulled out a hairpin, expertly using it to secure her hair in place for cooking. As she did, Steven's gaze was drawn to the ancient hairpin, a sense of recognition washing over him.

"This hairpin..." he began, curiosity evident in his voice.

"Yeah, it's mine. My father gave it to me," she interjected, a wistful tone creeping into her words.

"How did he get it?" Steven asked, his interest piqued.

"From his mother, who inherited it from hers. The hairpin is a family heirloom, meant to pass down to the first daughters of each generation. My grandmother didn’t have a daughter, so she passed it to my father. Before he passed away, he gave it to me when I was just nine," Dua shared, her voice laced with nostalgia.

"May I?" Steven gestured, asking for permission to examine the hairpin more closely.

"Sure," Dua permitted.

Taking the hairpin from Dua's hair, Steven inspected its design meticulously. Just below the intricate embellishments, he noticed the initials 'S.L.' engraved into it. A chill ran down his spine as memories flickered in his mind.

"My dad said it belonged to one of my ancestors," Dua continued, "but I can’t remember her name. It was given to her by a lover she couldn’t stay with." Her words hung in the air, and Steven felt a sudden tightness in his chest.

"What is puzzling to me," she said, glancing thoughtfully at the hairpin, "is why would a man give a hairpin like this? Is this a hairpin or a weapon?"

As those words left her lips, memories surged through Steven's mind, transporting him back to a pivotal moment in his past.

Flashbacks.

Once, while strolling through the sun-dappled forest with Crystal, laughter intertwined with their words. Steven dipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved a hairpin that glinted under the soft light. “I was at the market a few days ago and saw this,” he said, handing the hairpin to Crystal.

Her face lit up with a genuine smile as she accepted the gift. “Thank you!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight. But that joy turned to playful mischief when she added, “Is this a hairpin or a weapon?”

“It’s a hairpin,” Steven replied, a frown creasing his forehead.

She chuckled, then suddenly swung the hairpin toward him, gently pressing the edge against the vulnerable skin of his neck. “But it sure feels like a weapon!”

With a swift motion, he took the hairpin back from her grasp, placing it delicately in her hair. Crystal winced slightly at the movement, and concern flickered across Steven's face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I am,” she replied, though her voice had a hint of tension. “I just avoid touching that section of my hair.” She instinctively rubbed the spot, her expression clouding momentarily. “I fell when I was a child.”

Flashbacks End.

Steven returned to the present and handed the hairpin back to Dua, trying to banish the echoes of Crystal’s memory. “Here, it’s a hairpin,” he said, forcing a light-hearted tone.

“But it’s handy like a weapon,” Dua retorted, mimicking Crystal’s earlier bravado as she swung the hairpin at him, resting the edge against his neck once more.

As he noticed her playful demeanor was strikingly similar to Crystal’s, an idea sparked in his mind. Could it be? He hesitated for a moment before gently taking the hairpin from Dua and placing it into a section of her hair.

Her reaction was immediate—she winced, just as Crystal had done, a flicker of pain crossing her features. “I don’t put anything in that part of my hair,” she complained softly, her hands instinctively rubbing the painful spot. “I don’t know what happened, but I just know it hurts there.”

A sickening realization washed over Steven, and his eyes widened in disbelief. “She’s Crystal,” he muttered to himself.