The festival felt distant now, like it belonged to another world. The air was thick with water, misting from every direction, the remnants of Thingyan still hanging in the atmosphere. The streets were chaotic, vibrant with color, laughter, and people dancing, but none of it mattered to the boys. Their minds were far from the festive celebration, weighed down by the words they'd just heard — and by what they still didn't know.
They stood in the middle of the street, shoulders stiff with the unease that had been building ever since the kid had mentioned the woman.
Ko Aung broke the silence first, his voice flat, but beneath the calmness, there was an edge of urgency. "So, this woman... she's the one. She knows something. Maybe she's the one we're looking for."
Min Zaw glanced around, his mind racing. The chaotic celebration seemed to mock him now. Could she really be the key? His stomach churned, and he wiped his hand across his forehead, trying to shake the feeling that they were all in way over their heads. "But why would she be watching like that, out of place in all this? It doesn't make sense. Why wasn't she part of the crowd?"
Kyaw Lin, who had been quieter, stood a little apart from the group, his eyes scanning the crowds that seemed endless. He shrugged, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Maybe she's just a bystander. But if she's been following us, we have to find her."
They spoke in fragmented sentences, each man thinking the same thing but unable to voice it fully. What if they were wrong? What if they were chasing shadows? But none of them voiced that doubt.
Then, suddenly, Ko Zay went still. His body tense, like an animal sensing danger. His gaze was fixed on something, or rather someone, across the street. He didn't speak, but the change in his posture was unmistakable.
Min Zaw noticed the shift and looked at him, his own instincts on edge. "What's wrong?"
Ko Zay's voice was barely a whisper, thick with a strange tension. "There's a woman. Standing by the corner. Watching us."
The words landed with a weight, and a cold shiver ran down their spines. The festival noise seemed to fade away for a moment, as they all turned, eyes darting in the direction Ko Zay had pointed.
Kyaw Lin narrowed his eyes, searching the street. He squinted, trying to make sense of the fleeting figure. There she was — standing alone in the corner of the street, almost hidden by a stall, blending into the shadows but unmistakable. Too still. Too quiet.
At first, it didn't register. She looked out of place, yes, but there were a million people in the streets. They had seen a thousand faces today.
Then it hit them — none of them recognized her.
Kyaw Lin furrowed his brow and looked around the others, his voice rough as if he had just woken up from a bad dream. "I don't remember her. Do you?"
Min Zaw's frown deepened. "No... she wasn't here earlier. I would've noticed." His voice was sharper now, his pulse quickening. The woman didn't belong here. It was as if she was watching them, like she knew they were looking for something and wasn't going to let them find it easily.
Ko Aung's face darkened. His lips pressed together in a tight line, and for a moment, he just stared at her, a knot forming in his chest. Something didn't sit right. His heart beat louder in his chest, drowning out the festival's noise. He could feel his instincts kicking in — a subtle, sharp pressure at the back of his mind.
Then, without saying anything else, the tension between them shifted. It wasn't a question of whether to act — it was a reflex, an understanding without words. They were going after her.
There was no plan, no thought-out strategy. They just moved. The connection was almost physical — a shared urgency, a desperation to find answers.
Ko Aung led the charge, shoulders tight with focus, but beneath his calm exterior, there was a storm raging. His body moved quickly, weaving between people, dodging water-throwing revelers without even thinking about it. But his eyes never left the corner where the woman stood. She hadn't moved, but he wasn't about to wait for her to slip away. Not again.
Kyaw Lin, always a step ahead in sensing danger, cut left, moving through a narrow alley between stalls, keeping an eye on both the street and the shadows. His jaw was clenched, his chest tight, and a bitter taste had formed in the back of his throat. This wasn't just about a woman; it was about something far more dangerous. They could all feel it.
Min Zaw took the right, running at a pace he didn't even realize he could maintain. He was hyperaware of every person, every movement around him, but his focus was singular: her. He tried to breathe, to calm his racing heart, but it was impossible. His mind kept spinning. What did she know?Why was she watching us?
Ko Zay stayed close behind Ko Aung, matching his pace. His eyes flicked around, scanning every face, trying to find her. She had to be somewhere nearby. His mind kept racing. Was she dangerous? Why did it feel like they were hunting a ghost?
They moved like shadows through the crowd, but the woman had vanished.
Ko Aung stopped abruptly, scanning the street. He felt like he was suffocating — there had to be a sign, a trace, something to tell him she was close. He turned in circles, but the crowded streets swallowed her presence.
Kyaw Lin turned back, his eyes flashing with frustration. "We lost her."
Min Zaw came up from behind, shaking his head, looking around in disbelief. "No. She was right here. I saw her."
The group stopped, their breaths coming in heavy bursts, the adrenaline still pumping through them.
Then, from the other side of the street, Ko Aung's eyes locked onto something. His heart skipped. There, in the shadows of a doorway, she was there again. The flicker of her dark clothes against the backdrop of the festival lights was impossible to miss. She hadn't moved, but now, she was definitely watching them. Waiting.
Ko Aung turned to the others, his voice low, his tone serious. "I saw her. She's still there."
Without another word, they split.
Kyaw Lin took the quickest route, cutting down an alleyway that seemed to disappear into the distance. His steps were purposeful, but there was a weight to them — each one bringing them closer to something they weren't sure they were ready for.
Min Zaw pushed through the crowds again, but this time his gaze never wavered from the shadows where she stood. It felt like a game, but not a playful one. They weren't chasing a phantom. They were chasing the truth.
Ko Zay, who had been quiet through most of this, finally spoke, his voice heavy with the strain of the chase. "We're not losing her again."
But by the time Ko Aung reached the alleyway, Kyaw Lin had disappeared around the corner. The shadows swallowed him whole. A few seconds later, Ko Zay was gone, too.
Min Zaw was left behind, standing at the entrance of the narrow street. His chest was tight, his mind spinning, and for a moment, it felt like the walls were closing in.
His heart raced as he tried to follow them, but something held him back. The festival was still alive with its noise, the crowd still ebbed and flowed, but his friends... they weren't there. They were gone, chasing shadows of their own.
For a split second, Min Zaw's mind flashed with a thought — What if he's the one left behind?
His throat tightened, and he couldn't shake the sensation that something was very wrong. The tension in the air was palpable, and he stood there, feeling more isolated than he had in days.
Then, reluctantly, he turned and made his way toward the shadows, his feet heavy with uncertainty. The chase wasn't over. Not yet.