Van.

This morning, he leaned casually against the wooden post near the crosswalk. But now, in mid-January, he saw Charlie's daughter.

Bella Swan exited her truck, looking quite tired. Her breath curled around her like smoke as she glanced toward the silver Volvo, hesitating.

So did he.

Edward Cullen stood beside the vehicle, arms folded and still as stone, watching her.

Edward noticed him. He was tense, as if expecting something. Maybe the problem is me... or something else.

Then Madara heard it. He slowly turned toward the sound just enough to see the van screeching in the lot.

It was already too late, unfortunately.

The vehicle skidded across the slick pavement, tires spinning helplessly as the boy inside—Tyler—lost control. Madara immediately calculated the angle of impact.

The girl, Bella Swan, would be crushed.

He could save her anytime if he wanted to, but it wasn't his day to shine. Why would he? Someone else would do it after him.

Because someone else obviously moved first.

Edward Cullen.

At a speed no civilian should be capable of, the boy crossed the lot and slammed lightly into Bella just in time—not to knock her inside, but to shield her.

One hand braced against the side of the van, he stopped it dead. The steel crumpled around his palm as time seemed to freeze.

Bella stared up at him, blinking multiple times, stunned. The van moved slightly from the impact, but Edward didn't even look winded.

Madara remained where he was, standing calmly and watching the situation.

The crowd around them erupted into movement—civilians rushing forward, their voices raised in alarm. But Bella noticed his presence from afar her eyes met his for a brief second.

There was a flicker of confusion there.

Why was he just standing?

Why wasn't he helping?

She knew she was saved, but usually, even strangers would be shocked, worried, and curious. They would react and come to her, reassuring her mentally that she survived.

Bella's confusion deepened as her vision blurred and she became dizzy, then darkness.

She fainted, obviously.

An ambulance took her to the hospital while Edward stood still, watching from afar. By exposing himself—who he was—she wouldn't be certain what exactly.

But superhuman strength? She had a VIP seat at this event. She would try to dig. She would be more curious. And that was inevitable, as Madara—John—stood beside him.

"You know what you did, don't you?"

Edward kept looking at the ambulance, hundreds of meters away—too far for ordinary eyes—but as if he was watching inside it. He replied,

"Yes... John. I didn't know what to do. Save her? Which means exposing myself. Or let her die. But I'm asking—why did I do it? Why would I risk my identity for someone like her? Just because she... has a certain resistance? Like you? Did I save her for blood? Or just curiosity? Why?"

"Curiosity can be dangerous, Edward. But it's also what makes us more than what others expect."

Edward finally tore his gaze from the ambulance and turned to face John fully. His expression was complicated.

"She's different. She makes me feel things." Edward replied,

"Feelings are dangerous. They can cloud judgment and make you vulnerable sometimes—or always."

"I know. But with her, it's not just curiosity or duty. It's something deeper, something I've never experienced before. And why am I talking about this with you? Why do you care? Weren't you just a stranger to us? A threat? Not long ago?"

"Threats don't always stay threats. Sometimes they become necessary allies."

Edward wanted to respond to that but bit back his words, then left. Madara watched him leave, then disappear unnoticed.

Later, they were at the hospital, John unexpectedly included.

It wasn't warm or anything—just cold, as usual—but him coming himself was a big step.

From the hallway, as Madara entered the hospital, he met Charlie at the same time.

"John?" The voice was calm but with hidden worry.

Charlie Swan stepped into view, his broad shoulders wrapped in uniform, obviously in a hurry after hearing the news about his daughter.

"I... did not expect to see you here," Charlie said lowly—not angry, just a little surprised. He smiled lightly, as when he needed to. John was again here for him—not in the warmest way, but he was here and listening.

"Charlie," John nodded curtly, walking calmly as usual.

Charlie raised his hand for a handshake. Madara just raised an eyebrow, still hanging.

"John... I meant handshake."

"I know. But why?"

"Just because. Do it."

Madara clasped his hand, and they shared a brief, firm handshake, Madara limiting himself to the ordinary strength of an adult.

"How's she doing?" Charlie asked quietly.

"I don't know. I just arrived, like you. Let's find out, shall we?" Madara said, and Charlie nodded.

They walked slowly down the corridor together, approaching the room where Bella was resting.

Inside was Carlisle Cullen, making sure of her memories of the incident with Edward. He was examining her charts, his face gentle but attentive. He noticed both of them and nodded politely, giving a glance to John—curious why he was there, but aware that Charlie and John had some history.

"John, Charlie," he offered a polite nod. "Thank you for coming."

Charlie raised an eyebrow that Carlisle knew John but did not comment on it. He had more important things to worry about.

"How is she? I want to see her myself."

Carlisle stepped aside, expecting the question, gesturing toward the bed where Bella lay. She was pale, eyes closed, chest rising and falling steadily with the rhythm of the breathing machine.

"She's stable," Carlisle said, his voice measured. "No internal injuries, no fractures. Just some bruising and a concussion. The doctors are, of course, optimistic, myself included."

Charlie nodded, watching Bella's peaceful face, while Madara remained quiet as usual.

"Her resilience is remarkable," Carlisle continued. "She's young, strong for her age—mentally. But it's inevitable that her mentality has limits at her age."

Charlie's eyes didn't leave his daughter.

"I want to do everything I can to protect her. She's all I've got."

Madara, neutral as usual, commented, "Not bad for her age. But I've seen better." (Nara)

"Don't be harsh, John," Charlie gave a tired smile. "She's still lucky to have people looking out for her, but I can't always be there for her... as always," he said quietly at the end.

Madara folded his arms as they stepped back into the hallway.

"I know this world is... not that ordinary," Charlie said, locking eyes with John.

"But Bella needs more than just medicine right now. She needs someone who can watch her back—someone who understands dangers she might not even see."

Madara's face was unreadable as he listened to Charlie's words.

"I want to ask you a favor. Something that's not easy for me. I know you may refuse... but think about it, as my friend."

Madara did not correct him this time—just listened as Charlie took a breath.

"Will you walk her to school when she's ready? Make sure she's safe out there? I'm asking because I trust you... or send that boy at least. I know he's not ordinary either—Bella said so at dinner."

Madara nodded curtly.

"I will take care of it," he said calmly.

"Thank you," Charlie said. "It means more than you know."

They lingered a moment, then Charlie's gaze shifted toward the darkening sky outside.

"Forks isn't always the safest place," Charlie said quietly, "especially not now."

Back inside Bella's room, Carlisle checked her vitals again.

"Her heart rate is steady," he murmured, adjusting the sensors. "The concussion symptoms should fade soon, but she'll be vulnerable for a short period of time."

Charlie just nodded, his mind preoccupied.

Carlisle glanced up at Madara and said, "You understand more than most, John. Be patient." Then he left to continue working on other patients, while Charlie stayed and Madara left.