|she/her||24y/o| |cat|

Call of Duty

✯ Mini Ghost

Dandadan

✯ Kitsune Who Ended the Game

Haikyuu!!

✯ Game, Set, Love Match

Wind Breaker

✯ Sweet as a Lollipop

Stranger Things

✯ My Drunk Princess

✯ What Could've Been… Or will be?

✯ Love for Two (part 2)

Genshin Impact

✯ Unlucky Luck

✯ Cushion Husband

✯ 5 Stages of Love

✯ Until You Remember Me

✯ Fox Ears

Original Work

You bit your lip as you subconsciously palmed your still non-existent bump. The anticipation, anxiety, and the weight of your pregnancy, everything grew more and more overwhelming. The more emotional part of your brain couldn’t help but overthink. What if you weren’t cut out to be a mother? What if something, anything, went wrong? Panic simmered in the pit of your stomach, quiet and ready. Yet, the warmth radiating from the love of your life felt grounding and comforting.

“Hey, look at me,” Steve said as he kneeled before you. It seemed as though he physically sensed your unease and swooped in to save the day as he always did. Your eyes locked and you nearly melted with how much love and adoration Steve gazed upon you. “We’re about to see our child for the first time. Aren’t you happy?”

You were happy. Extremely so. A soft smile made its way onto your face at the memory when you broke the news to Steve. 

That day, in the confines of your bathroom, your heart pounded in your ears. You stared at the pregnancy test in your trembling hands, unsure whether to believe it or not. You? A mother? Of course, you’d been trying for a baby; however, seeing two pink lines made things feel… real. 

When Steve returned from work, you ran into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably, overwhelmed at the surge of emotions. Happiness, fear, anxiety, anticipation, all mixed in a whirlwind that you unleashed on your poor, panicking husband. And when Steve finally noticed the pregnancy test in your hands… safe to say, your emotional lover gladly joined you in weeping.

You looked at Steve. His hand on your knee, thumb drawing small, soothing circles. His lips were chapped from how often he bit them, yet his eyes were filled with nothing but love and adoration. It anchored you. Knowing that such a man was by your side in such an important moment calmed your nerves significantly. You took a deep breath and smiled. You palmed his hand on your knee and squeezed it lightly.

“Let’s meet our baby.”

As if on cue, the door of the OBGYN your cousin recommended opened with a slight creak. A woman, probably in her forties, popped out, a file in hand, and eyes big and analyzing. ‘Linda Williams’ was written on the badge pinned to her chest. She looked around the room before calling out, “Mrs. Harrington?” 

“Let’s go,” Steve put a chaste kiss on your forehead and stood up. He offered you his hand like a true gentleman, and you two followed the doctor into the room.

The door closed with a gentle thud. Immediately, you noticed a navy blue examination couch and a big screen hanging next to it. The walls were covered in various pictures of pregnancy stages, posters filled with lists of vitamins and exercise recommendations, and portraits of adorable newborns that made your heart soar in anticipation.

“Please sit here,” the woman commanded, gesturing toward the examination couch. “Is it your first baby?”

“It is,” you breathed out shakily, almost as if saying it out loud made things more real. Steve stood beside you, a hand on your shoulder to keep you grounded.

“You’re probably excited,” her eyes softened. She looked at you with the look of a mother and smiled. “I have a son too.”

“How old is he?” The question was more out of politeness, yet you were grateful for the small talk. Now the room didn’t seem that scary.

“He just turned 11 last month,” Linda chuckled. The lightheaded conversation almost distracted you from the sound of rubber gloves. “He’s a little rascal, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

Your hand unknowingly went to your stomach, and you glanced at your husband. The feelings that gradually blossomed in your chest were similar, and you could already see how much Steve already loved your unborn child.

“Alright, Mrs. Harrington, I have your test results right here,” the woman’s voice was calm and calculating yet again as she flipped through your file. “Everything looks good, so I’ll prescribe you just the standard vitamins.”

“Will I need a lot?” You asked, slightly concerned. Steve quickly held your hand. 

“Oh, absolutely,” the doctor exclaimed with a sigh. Linda plopped onto the round chair before the ultrasound screen. “As the baby grows, it takes all the nutrients from the mother. So to sustain both your and your baby’s health, you need plenty of supplements.”

“Sounds expensive…” You whispered, doubt slowly creeping into your brain. 

“Hey, hey, hey, none of that,” Steve quickly grabbed your attention. His hand dropped to squeeze your palm reassuringly as he bent down to look you in the eye. “Money is not for you to worry about. We’ll buy everything we need, okay? Your health is the number one priority.”

“He’s right,” Linda chimed in. “The baby will develop poorly if you don’t take care of your own health, so it’s very important.”

You pursed your lips into a thin line. However, the look of sheer determination on your husband’s face put you at ease, even if just slightly.

“Alright, shall we take a peek in the oven?” Linda grinned and grabbed the bottle of gel. “Lie down and lift your shirt.”

You complied. Your fingers dug into the edges of your t-shirt, fisting it to quell your nerves. The woman popped the bottle cap open and squeezed a big blob on your skin. The coldness made you flinch and shudder. She grabbed the transducer and began methodically gliding the instrument over your stomach.

“So?” Steve asked impatiently. He stood behind the doctor, arms crossed over his chest, and fingers tapping nonstop against his forearm.

“Patience, Dad,” Linda reprimanded him rather quickly. She moved the transducer across your abdomen, eyes glued to the black and white screen.

And then… the woman melted into a wide grin.

“There’s your little bun.”

Your head whipped toward the screen so fast, you could almost feel something pop. Eyes wide like those of a doe as you stared at the obscure image. You didn’t even know what you were searching for, yet you kept scanning every pixel for any indication of your child.

Linda traced a spot with her finger, circling it for you to focus on. “Look here. This is your baby.”

“He’s so… small,” Steve breathed out. His clenched fist over his erratically beating heart as he grinned dreamily. “Unbelievable…”

Your breath hitched. Tears came to her eyes at the sight. It was weird. Just a screen of white noise with a black crooked circle in the middle. And there, at the bottom of this circle, was a grey spot. It looked the size of a date, small and wobbly. But you could see it as clear as the afternoon sky. It was there. Real and everything. Your child.

*~*~*

First came the morning sickness. It happened around the 7th week when suddenly the smell of chinese takeout forced the contents of your stomach to spill out.

It was so sudden, too. Your husband was on his way home, so you decided to order from your favorite restaurant. You ordered all your favorites, then sat on the couch, waiting with excitement for a delicious dinner. The food arrived rather quickly. You grabbed the bags, paid the delivery boy, and began unpacking the chicken in garlic sauce. You barely even opened the box, and the next thing you knew, you sprinted into the bathroom, then held onto the toilet as if your life depended on it.

The sounds you released sounded tortured, and the smell of processed food clung to your clothes instantly. Your throat felt tight and raw. Your breath ragged as you kept spitting the remnants of the vomit.

Once the toilet was flushed, you settled on the floor, your back against the cold tiles. The nasty taste of bile irritated you, yet you couldn’t find any strength to get up and brush your teeth. So you sat on the tiled floor, breathing heavily, while your palm softly caressed your stomach. “Whyyy? Why the chinese out of everything?” You groaned out loud.

Then, you heard the front door open.

“I’m home!” Steve called out from the corridor. “Mmm, I smell chinese food.”

You were about to push yourself off the floor when you suddenly realized—the whole apartment now reeked off chinese food. Your only shield was the bathroom door that you slammed closed in your haste. If it were to open, you knew you were bound for another round of barfing.

“Honey? Where are you?”

“In the bathroom!” You replied as you finally rose to your feet. Then you grabbed the toothbrush to get rid of the disgusting taste in your mouth. “Could you put away the food and air out the rooms, please? Oh, and don’t open the door unless you do!”

“What? Why?” Steve’s voice sounded much closer this time. He already stood outside, ready to barge in, in case you were in any kind of danger.

“It’s the smell. It makes me nauseous,” you offered a quick reply before showing the toothbrush in your mouth. The taste of mint soothed your taste buds.

“Oh? But you love chine– Ohhh…” Steve drawled, finally connecting the dots. “Okay, love, uhh… gimme a few minutes. I uhmm I’ll give it to our neighbors and then get us… pizza?”

“Sounds great. Love you!” You mumbled and swished the foam around into every stubborn corner.

Oh, how grateful you were to have such a thoughtful partner.

Then came the fatigue.

It started around the same time as the morning sickness. Your energy was constantly drained, even after a full night’s sleep. No matter where you were, if you sat or lay down, a few minutes in, you’d start snoozing.

Having lunch at work, the chatter would lull you to sleep, as you leaned your head against the cool table. Thankfully, your coworker found you before your boss did and shook you awake frantically.

Snuggling with Steve turned into a sure way of putting you to sleep momentarily. The warmth and security radiating from your husband, paired with raging hormones, worked too well at pulling you into the dreamland. If before you could stay awake for hours, talking about anything that came to mind, now, the moment your head touched Steve’s chest, you were gone to the world. If you weren’t pregnant, you’d think you had developed some form of narcolepsy.

Ginger tea became your best friend. Every morning, your husband dutifully brewed a fresh jar of tea with slices of actual ginger cut up in it. It was his idea in the first place, one you had no idea where he even got from. Not like it mattered much, not when it helped keep the fatigue and nausea at bay.

It didn’t take long for you to get used to the idea of a child. By the end of the first trimester, you had already begun thinking of names. 

“How about… Melissa? Or Ella?” Your husband inquired as you two lay in bed, and only the gentle yellow bed light illuminated the room. Steve snuggled to your side, his arm serving as your pillow, while his other hand softly caressed your stomach under your nightgown.

“Ella? You’re that sure it’s a girl?” You chuckled and squeezed Steve’s hand on your stomach.

“I’m sure,” he replied with the utmost confidence as he nuzzled into your cheek. “She’s gonna be beautiful like you, kind like you, smart like you.”

“Will she have anything of yours at all?” You giggled and leaned up to kiss his nose.

“Of course,” Steve uttered as though stating the obvious fact. He wiggled his head as much as the position allowed him to, as a poor attempt at tossing his hair. “My gorgeous mane.”

The performative tone elicited a laugh out of you. One that flowed freely and bounced off the walls. You snuggled closer to your husband and sighed contentedly. Your heart felt full in such a tender moment. “With a dad like you, I know she or he will grow, without a doubt, into an incredible person.”

And then, you were hit with mood swings. It wasn’t a gradual descent like you hoped it would be, but a sudden drop headfirst into madness.

Anything, small or big, was enough to tick you off. And not even you knew in what direction your hormones would take you. One moment, you were simply doing the grocery shopping, the next, you were bawling because the store had run out of your favorite chocolate bars. The store clerk, a young teenage boy who probably picked up the job to earn money for college, panicked so hard that he started crying with you.

Or when some lady at McDonald’s accidentally spilled her soda on you, you unleashed the power of a thousand suns, berating the woman until Steve pulled you out of the store. And then you redirected your anger at your husband while he drove you two home. The utter embarrassment that washed over you once you calmed down was enough to make you cry again.

You had no idea how Steve could power through all your hysteria, but you were eternally grateful for him.

When you first noticed the growing baby bump, you nearly fainted from the surge of emotions. 

It was an ordinary Saturday morning. You had invited your immediate family and friends to a restaurant to finally announce your pregnancy. You kept it a secret for weeks, wanting to savour the feeling as much as possible. It was fairly easy to hide it, too. Gaining weight? Just bloated. Feeling nauseous? Probably ate something bad. Low energy? Didn’t get enough sleep.

But right as you were about to enter the second trimester, you decided to finally let your friends and family in on a secret.

It took you a while to settle on a dress. You kept digging through the various choices you had purchased over the years. Though in the end, you had chosen your favorite, the one you wore to your and Steve’s first date. You pulled off your t-shirt that was actually the one you had graciously stolen from your husband, and put on the bra. A sigh fell from your lips at the thought of your breasts going up the size, thus forcing you to buy new bras. Your pants were next to join the abovementioned piece of garment on the chair. You swayed to the soft tune coming from the radio. However, as you walked past the full-height mirror, you froze.

It didn’t quite register in your mind what exactly you were looking at. Your body, though maybe a bit plumper, looked roughly the same. You gazed upon your reflection, eyes grazing over your figure.

Then you saw it.

It was small, almost unnoticeable—the soft roundness to your abdomen.

You caressed your stomach almost reverently. Your fingers trembled, breath hitched as you continuously grazed the skin.

Your… Your baby. The little life you and Steve created. 

A sob broke out of your chest as you ran out of the room and straight to the bathroom. You pulled the door open a bit too hastily, startling your husband so hard that he nearly snapped his favorite comb in half. Steve immediately caught on the loud sobs and your red face. Cold panic overtook him as he rushed to your side.

“What is it?! Are you okay?! Is it the baby?!”

You couldn’t speak. Your tongue felt as though it was tangled. At this point, you couldn’t tell whether you were weeping or laughing anymore. Instead, you grabbed his hand and pressed it gently to your abdomen. You guided Steve’s palm across your lower stomach, urging him to feel the baby bump for the first time.

“Whoa…” Steve sighed in wonder. His hand now freely wandered against your exposed skin. He could feel your growing child, and his heart almost exploded. “She’s growing.”

“Our baby, Steve,” you pressed your forehead to his shoulder, still sniffling occasionally.

Safe to say, you were late for dinner that day.

Things had calmed down by week 14, more or less. While some food and scents could still make you nauseous, the morning sickness ceased significantly, something you were eternally grateful for. Your sleep schedule evened out, and you felt more energized, ready to topple the world. Still, another symptom had caught up to you almost instantly. 

The infamous pregnancy cravings.

Poor Steve. Those two words crossed your mind every time you sent your husband a message with either a plea or a demand to bring whatever odd options your pregnant self could think of. It ranged from pickles and mayo to tuna with strawberry jam. It was weird, you didn’t even like tuna. Yet, you craved it so much that you lost sleep.

You lied in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling and the way the moonlight illuminated every little dip and bump. The arrow on the wall clock pointed at 1 p.m. Steve had long passed out beside you, but you were awake. Painfully awake. Your stomach growled in protest, and any time you closed your eyes, you saw tuna. The image was so vivid, you could almost taste it.

You tossed and turned, working overtime to repel the thought of the stupid fish and get some sleep, but nothing worked. You tried thinking of a happy place. Your mind wandered to the beach, the sound of waves, and the gritty feeling of warm sand slipping through your fingers. However, there, in the salty water, you saw tuna. An entire school of it, swimming about and teasing you with the shiny scales and inviting smell of its canned meat.

Your eyes snapped open, right as you were about to drool on your pillow. Your stomach growled louder. 

This was ridiculous. Of course, you expected such a turn of events sometime throughout the pregnancy; yet, not even in your wildest dreams could you have imagined the intensity of it. 

A groan of frustration fell from your lips before you could stop it, summoning your knight from the depths of slumber. 

“Honey?” Steve rasped as he pulled you closer, his palm settling on your bump almost instinctively. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” Your reply was positive, but the tone of your voice suggested that you were on the verge of tears. “It’s stupid.”

“Hmmmm, somehow I don’t believe you,” he said and nuzzled your forehead. “Wanna try again?”

You fell silent, debating whether or not you should concern your husband with such trivial matters. He had work in the morning. Now, with the baby in the way, Steve worked twice as hard. He needed sleep more than ever.

“Just say it,” Steve urged before you could spiral. His voice was firm but gentle, in the way that melted all your barriers.

“I want tuna.”

“Tuna,” Steve drawled as though unsure whether he heard you right.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m so hungry,” you almost whined and buried your face into his chest. You swallowed back a sob that threatened to escape at your predicament. “I want it so badly I can almost taste it.”

Steve hummed, contemplating. His sleepy mind rushed to search for a solution, as always. Always the first to think and fix. After minutes of silence, you saw Steve get out of bed and start pulling on his clothes.

“Wait, where are you going?” You asked, slightly panicked at such a turn of events.

“To the store,” your man replied as though stating the obvious. He tugged on his plain white t-shirt and grabbed the flannel that hung on the back of the chair. “The supermarket a few blocks away is open 24/7. I’m sure they have tuna.”

“Steve, it’s 1 in the morning,” you whined and sat up. Guilt bloomed in your chest that you forced your husband out of bed, and now out of the house. “You have a shift in 7 hours, get back in bed.”

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” Steve leaned in to kiss your forehead and smiled reassuringly.

And then, he left. You remained in bed, waiting (im)patiently for your husband’s return. You sat in bed, the blanket draped haphazardly over your legs. The methodical ticking of the clock slowly but surely began driving you crazy as time went on. Minutes passed, and by minute 30, you began writhing restlessly as your mind conjured up various scenarios where your husband got injured. 

What if Steve got into a car accident and was now on the way to the hospital?

Or worse, he got kidnapped by the mafia?

Your eyes teared up, ready to break down, when the door opened with a soft click.

You gasped, and your ears perked up in anticipation of seeing your beloved. You could hear him rattling the dishes in the kitchen, and then, after such an incredibly long wait, Steve walked back into the room, a tray in hand with tuna presented like a 5-star dish. 

The tears were back at the sight in front of you. You were overcome with emotions as Steve sat on the edge of the bed and placed the tray on your lap.

“One serving of tuna for the most gorgeous lady,” Steve grinned, clearly proud of his accomplishment. He leaned in to wipe your tears away and kissed your lips with the utmost softness.

“I love you so much,” you whined and sobbed.

At last, you finally had your fill of the annoying fish, with Steve sitting by your side and gently brushing loose hair away from your face.

When you found out the sex, Steve was over the moon.

The OBGYN office had long stopped being intimidating; now, instead, it felt more comforting and familiar. You sat on the examination couch, hands clasped together over your belly.

Steve paced all over the office in anticipation. The sound of his footsteps eventually annoyed the doctor, and Linda had to tell him off with a frown and a grin. 

“So? Who is it?” Steve asked impatiently, staring at the screen as though he knew how to read it.

“Be. Patient,” Linda chuckled as she glided the transducer across our skin. “Do you have a preference?”

“Well,” you started with a smile. “It’d be great if it were a girl, but regardless, we want them to be healthy.”

“You’re doing great so far,” Linda patted your shoulder reassuringly. Then, she smiled widely and moved the screen towards you. “It’s a girl.”

As time went on, your bump grew increasingly bigger with each week. By month 7, you went on maternity leave. However, this led you to feel extremely and utterly bored as you sat at home without a single idea of things to do. So, you decided to focus on the nursery.

The knock on the front door made you perk up. You dropped the book you were reading and somehow managed to pull yourself off the sofa.

“Hey there!” Robin and your best friend, Susan, greeted you with an excited wave.

“Hi!” You went to hug both girls, mindful of the growing bump.

“So, ready to go?” Susan rubbed your belly with a dreamy sigh. 

“Yeah, let’s go!”

Robin and Susan agreed to accompany you to do some shopping for the nursery. Susan drove you to the local shopping mall. Excitement surged through you at all the different ideas you had for the nursery.

You moved slowly through the nursery store, one hand resting on your belly. You paused at tiny rows of folded onesies, soft blankets, and painted cribs, laughing as your friends argued which colors would suit the baby best. Robin and Susan lifted plush toys and compared designs, holding them up to you for approval. You contemplated between a peach-colored elephant and a panda. Both plushies looked awfully cute, so, obviously, you chose both.

The soft bickering continued, while you listened, smiling, and sharing quiet hopes about the months ahead. You lingered longest in the crib section, running your fingers along smooth wooden rails and gently testing how easily each one adjusted. Your friends debated safety features and finishes, reading labels out loud while you imagined quiet nights and early mornings beside it, your expression thoughtful and tender.

Between thoughtful moments and bursts of laughter, the shopping trip felt less like an errand and more like a celebration, filled with warmth, friendship, and the growing anticipation of new life.

Your daughter was already a week overdue, and though the doctors reassured you that this was perfectly normal, especially for a first pregnancy, their calm words did little to ease your restlessness. You felt heavy, swollen, and stretched to your limits. Part of you wanted to argue, to insist that something had to change, but the exhaustion settled deeper than your frustration, leaving you too drained to do more than sigh and endure.

Your hips throbbed with a dull, unrelenting ache, and your back pulsed with constant pain that never quite faded, even when you tried to rest. Heartburn haunted every meal, and every glass of water was a risk of another slow, uncomfortable trip to the bathroom. Your daughter rarely stopped kicking. Hard and relentless. She writhed and smashed into your bladder at any given moment. Your body felt like it no longer belonged to you. It was as though you turned into nothing but an incubator for your future daughter.

Today, of all days, was extra rough on you. Yet another trip to the doctor proved to be unsuccessful when Linda told you that your child had next to no intentions of coming out. ‘It might take a few days, maybe a week,’ she said with an empathetic nod. You wanted to cheer yourself up with your favorite pastry on the way home. Unfortunately, some lady, a tall and sickly-skinny woman behind you in the line, decided that she had the right to scold you in front of everyone for eating unhealthy foods in your condition. She berated you for a solid 5 minutes as you stood there, holding a bag full of goodies, too stunned to reply.

Safe to say, the encounter put you in a foul mood for hours.

When you finally returned, you devoured the pastries one after the other, purely out of spite. And now, you sat on the bed, stomach so full of baked goods and a baby that your abdomen cramped, tears rolling down your face at the sheer exhaustion that washed over you. Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you stroked your belly, desperately urging your child to finally come out of you.

When Steve came home from work, he panicked, as always. Seeing you in such a distressed state sent him spiraling. He dropped his work bag and rushed to your side. His palms were warm and soft as he cupped your face with the utmost tenderness, kneeling in front of you.

“Sweetheart, talk to me,” he whispered gently.

You hiccupped, trying to even out your breathing. “I— I’m just— So tired…” You mumbled at last. But Steve heard you perfectly. His eyes softened at your state, and he wished for nothing more than to be able to shoulder at least some of your burdens. “Everything hurts… And I just feel so— big, and bloated, and disgusting…”

“Hey, shh, please, don’t cry.” Steve sat down beside you, wrapping his arms around your frame so you could freely cry on his shoulder. He gently stroked your hair, one hand rubbed soothing circles on your lower back, while the other caressed your belly. His touch was soft, as though hoping to calm down your daughter and convey to her that her father was there. “Look, I can’t even imagine how you feel right now,” he pulled away slightly to look you in the eye. His thumb went to wipe your tears away softly. “But let me tell you, you are doing an absolute killer job. Our princess is incredibly lucky to have you as her mom.”

“I’m just so tired…” You mumbled, too exhausted to move or even think.

“Then how about this,” Steve stood up abruptly as your eyes followed his every move. “I’ll draw you a relaxing bath, and while you soak up, I’ll make dinner. And when you’re rested and fed, I’ll give you a nice massage. How does that sound?”

You bit your lip, deep in thought. The idea taunted you, teasing you with a good time you forgot you needed. “That’d be great.”

The gentle steam looked inviting, as though the heat beckoned you to dip and relax your screaming muscles. Steve, the ever-loving husband, helped you out of your clothes, then slowly, he lowered you into the warm water as it enveloped you fully. Another spasm resonated in your stomach, but relief was so great that you nearly moaned in joy. The water tension lifted the baby off your spine, finally allowing you to breathe with a full chest. 

“Good?” Steve chuckled. He leaned on the bathtub, brushing the loose hair off your face.

“So good,” you sighed and stared at your husband. The look on his face showed nothing but pure love and adoration that made your heartbeat accelerate. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Steve whispered. He leaned down to capture your lips in a soft and tender kiss. His hand dipped into warm water to caress your swollen belly. His “Now, you just relax. I’ll bring in the radio so you can listen to music. I’ll leave the door open just in case.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, already feeling the warm water easing the ache that had kept you up most nights.

When Steve returned with the radio, he placed one final kiss on your cheek and retreated to the kitchen. Through your sleepy haze, you could hear the clunking of pans, as well as the soft sizzling that had your stomach cramping in hunger again. You shifted slightly, rubbing your belly with a tired smile. With a soft sigh, you muttered to yourself, ‘I can’t wait for you to join us.’

You weren’t sure exactly how long you spent soaking in the bathtub. Long enough for the water to lose its warmth, for a chill to creep in, and finally coax you out. Your belly kept protesting, tightening and cramping again and again at the beckoning smell of dinner wafting from the kitchen through the open door. You groaned at the uncomfortable feeling and called for your husband to help you up.

Steve was there in an instant. His movements were unhurried and careful, strong hands steady as they secured their grip on you. As you rose, a sharp tug deep in your abdomen made you cringe and let out a low groan. He wrapped a towel over you, the soft material provided just enough comfort to forget the pain.

However, as you were about to step out of the bathtub, something hot trickled down your thighs. It couldn’t be bathwater, you realized, as the sensation felt different, unmistakable, coming from inside you. The gentle, rhythmic sound of dripping had Steve pausing, his brow furrowing. Both of you looked down.

“Honey…” he said quietly, awe and disbelief in his voice, “I think your water just broke…”

It had been a month since you joined the forest rangers. Your days were filled mostly with patrols, helping out wandering adventurers, writing reports on any mundane or strange occurrence in the forest, and patrolling again. Things were long and tedious, but you enjoyed it. There was a certain charm to the ability to play the hero every once in a while.

Your excellent marks at the Akademiya promised you a life full of research and working with the most brilliant minds at a fancy lab filled with knowledge and mysteries. However, to everyone’s shock and surprise, you had chosen an entirely different path, which you came to realize soon was the best decision of your life. Being a prisoner of your own accomplishments felt suffocating. Every perfect mark was the manifestation of your stress and unhappiness. So, instead of fretting over other people’s opinions, you chose to walk down your path with head raised high and lungs full of air.

Today was the last day of your training, as well as the entrance exam to showcase your knowledge. You knew Tighnari to be a stern and serious mentor, prioritizing professionalism in your line of work above anything else. Despite the huge crush you harboured for your boss, you respected him as a person first and foremost. You were aware that the exam designed specifically by him would test your knowledge as well as force you to mentally contemplate your entire existence. However, you couldn’t help the elated feeling buzzing in your chest, your heart pounding in anxious anticipation to finally become a full-time, full-fledged forest watcher. 

One last question, and the quill was back on the table. You picked up the stack of papers with shaky hands and stood up. Your steps were slow and cautious. You couldn’t help glazing over your perfectly formulated answers over and over again as you approached Tighnari, who sat at the table, reading over the reports the whole time.

“Ah, you’re done,” the man smiled, and you had to bite your lip so as not to burst into bashful giggles. Thankfully, the nerves of anticipation were greater than the flattering in your heart. Tighnari gracefully accepted the exam sheets and began reading. 

You stood there, fumbling with your fingers to quell the nauseating anxiety in your heart. You quietly observed the way Tighnari flipped one page after another. You were nearing the point of bursting when something else caught your attention. 

Your eyes traveled higher and locked on the gentle sway of Tighnari’s fox ears.

Instantly, the stress and worry that was about to consume you calmed down, now a gentle flow within your mind. You watched the ears as they twitched and scrunched, following suit with Tighnari’s emotions. Your breath hitched, hands balling into fists to restrain the urge to touch them. You imagined the soft and fluffy texture of his ears. Would they feel the same as the actual fox’s ears? Or would they have a different fur structure and such?

The first time you met Tighnari, you nearly made the mistake of patting his head out of instinct. Growing up wanting a pet, you couldn’t help sharing your affection with every critter you encountered. Unfortunately, your brain was too slow to comprehend that animal ears could also appear on a non-consenting person. Your hand retrieved that day, not wanting to appear like a criminal, but still, the yearning to feel the softness of the fox’s ears never ceased.

The way Tighnari’s ear wiggled along with the movements of his head beckoned you like a forbidden candy for a kid. It felt as though you were being hypnotised. And maybe, you were, in a way unknown to you, a mere human with a deep love for animals.

However, before you could dive further into your fascination with the fluffy ears, Tighnari’s voice pulled you out of your trance.

“Congratulations,” his voice was soft and cheerful. A sweet smile graced his features as he set the exam sheets aside. Tighnari stood up and rounded the corner to stand before you as though you were equal. Though you were equal now, weren’t you? “A perfect score. From this day onward, you’re officially a forest watcher.”

Your heart nearly stopped. Your knees buckled, yet you managed to remain on your feet.

“Thank you!” You cried out over and over again, happy to finally reach the goal you worked hard for over a month.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Tighnari chuckled, your happy attitude travelling to him, too. “Thank the effort you’ve put into your work. I expect great deeds from you, fellow forest watcher.”

Your heart swelled with pride and joy. So much that you couldn’t contain a little dance. Your giggles echoed off the walls as you twirled around yourself, celebrating your little victory.

“Now, for all your hard work, I offer you one wish. Anything you want.”

The phrase made your movements halt. You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as your brain whirled to focus. You stared at your boss like a deer caught in the headlights, for such an unexpected offer caught you off guard for sure. 

Did you hear him right? Tighnari was willing to make you any offer? It was an opportunity of a lifetime!

But you didn’t even know what you wanted to ask for. Or what you could ask for. There were so many possibilities to choose from! Was there a limit or any boundaries? 

You could ask to be his partner, at least for a day. To be able to assist such a respectful individual, to treat him like an equal, sounded surreal and oh so tempting.

You could ask to write the research paper together. Having your name alongside his would add a great sense of accomplishment to your bucket list.

Or you could save the offer until you could come up with something better instead of raking your mind for anything on the spot–

“Can I touch your ears?”

The second the words leave your mouth, you nearly burst into flames. Neither of you moved, shocked to the core like never before. Your eyes widened, and you could see Tighnari doing the same as he pondered your unusual request. 

Why? Why? Why, out of all things you could’ve said, did it just have to be asking permission to touch his ears? Of course, it was one of your dreams. It was something you imagined as you lay alone in the darkness, arms wrapped around your spare pillow, and picturing Tighnari’s fluffy head instead of satin sheets. Still, outright asking that out of the blue sent you into a frenzy.

That was it. Your happiness was short-lived, for now you had to switch nations, because you had no idea how you could ever face your mentor after a stunt like that. The shame and embarrassment would become your chamber, and after you settled in your new place, you’d never bring yourself to encounter any human being. You would become a nomad, simply concealing yourself in your abode and sending your dog for provisions.

“I…” Tighnari’s voice pulled you out of your spiralling, and you crumbled into an apologetic mess. 

“I am so sorry,” you cried out, your face still burning in embarrassment as you flailed your arms in denial. “Please forget I said anything. I know it was extremely unprofessional of me, so-”

“I don’t see why not.”

Those five simple words cause your brain to short-circuit. The fog of overthinking dissipated, and at last, you took a good look at the man. You studied his face for a couple of seconds, and that was when you finally noticed—Tighnari’s ample cheeks shone bright pink, his eyes, usually clear and sharp, glistened with shy uncertainty as he gazed at the floor, all to avoid looking directly at you, his fingers fumbled with a lone, lime-colored strand of his hair to ease the tension in his body.

What was going on?!

Did perhaps… Tighnari like you back?

No, no, no, he couldn’t. Right?

However, at that moment, you saw Tighnari in a new light. The veil of favoritism lifted, and suddenly, you noticed the man who caught you in his arms with no hesitation whenever you were too scared to descend a tree at the early stages of your training. You saw the man who helped you study late at night and even went through the trouble of creating personalised flashcards for you. You saw Tighnari not as your mentor and boss, someone you thought was teaching and helping you out of the sense of obligation and responsibility, but rather as someone whose gaze lingered just a second longer than it should have, who, when you fell into a river, treated your wounds with such tenderness, his touch soft as though handling a piece of fine artwork.

You thought for Tighnari you were nothing special, just another one of his students. In your eyes, the head of the forest rangers never played favorites. But now that you’ve thought about it, Tighnari never held hands with other rangers as they left on patrol.

The revelation hit you like a tidal wave, sweeping you off your feet, and you had to plant your hand on the table for support. What an unexpected turn of events. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, carefully, unsure of how to approach the subject after taming your inner turmoil. You inched closer, now standing within an arm’s reach.

“It’s your wish, isn’t it?” You could see the usually refined and composed fighter fumble over his words, bashfully hiding his face behind the curtain of his bangs. The angle offered you his ears, too.

You nodded, feeling suddenly nervous in such an intimate moment. Your hand rose slowly, building the suspense before finally your fingers caressed the rim of his earlobe. 

Tighnari shuddered at the feel but didn’t pull away. Instead, it seemed as though he chased the feeling, ears twitching in anticipation. He sighed audibly, almost basking in the sensation.

You bit your lip. The unbelievable softness stunned you as your palm gently brushed over the entire ear. His fur felt different than that of a regular fox. It felt softer, as though made of finest silk. The slight shivering caused by your touch made you grin like an idiot.

Minutes passed, and you continued softly rubbing the juncture of his ears. Tighnari closed his eyes and succumbed to the little activity he suspected would occur a bit more often. His arms slowly circled your waist and pulled you snuggly against his body. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck till you felt his hot breath tickle the sensitive skin.

“I could get used to this,” Tighnari sighed, and you continued rubbing his ears.

At first, it stung. No one would want to hear such cruel words from their loved ones. However, as time went on, Kazuha managed to find wisdom in it, a key to his freedom.

So, the little boy disappeared for the day – leaving at dawn and only returning past midnight if he felt like it.

Nevertheless, despite his wandering nature, Kazuha had only one place he always returned to. That one place he longed to stay forever. One where he stored his heart – in your hands.

You’d known each other since you were little. Your first encounter was the memory Kazuha held dear to his heart. That day he sat under the tree by the walls of his clan, still hesitant to break the rules and admonition of the elders.

You practically jumped at him when you lost balance hiding in the bushes. Your tiny body landed next to him with a loud plop. The motion stirred the air around, catching Kazuha’s attention.

The boy whipped his head toward you. His amber eyes had no trouble capturing your image. Your hair was disheveled. Your attire was covered in leaves and dust, you had probably spent a while in the hideout. Embarrassed blush warmed your cheeks.

“Hi…” you squeaked, suddenly bashful under his intence gaze.

“Hi,” Kazuha replied softly and smiled.

That day marked the moment of sudden friendship that stretched over the years.

As time flew by, you grew closer. Learning the habits and desires of one another felt like an adventure on itself. You were kind and tender in a way that completed Kazuha’s nomad personality.

You shared similar interests in literature, and Kazuha even dedicated a notebook for you filled with haiku all about you and your daily activities.

You loved nature as well. Though, more living part. Kazuha often accompanied you on your self-appointed mission to feed stray cats and dogs. One day a tall, blond guy joined you as well, and Kazuha would be a liar if he said the sight of you laughing and petting the critters didn’t pull on the tight strings you tied around his heart.

The samurai had always known he loved you more than a friend. Or rather the realization dawned on him fairly early during your teen years. You understood him like no one else. You were the only person he could sit in silence with and still feel calm and at ease. The way you roleplayed—albeit very poorly and caricaturely—your favorite lines from the freshly read book in front of him. Your determination to help your neighbors any time their son was too busy to harvest the crops. The way your eyes sparkled whenever you gazed upon him. Your adorable blush you could never stop as his haiku turned you more and more flustered. The melodic tune of your laughter pleased his ears. And the erratic sounds of your heartbeat was his favorite sound of all. Kazuha saw it all. He cherished those moments and displayed them like treasure.

Kazuha was your safe space. Growing up so intimately to nature, his perception skills skyrocketed—you blamed it on his secret samurai training that he never shared with you, only plastering a cheeky smile and a phrase ‘I’ll protect you’. You never caught on how, but the boy always knew when your heart was heavy. As if the wind itself carried the news before you could.

When one of the stray cats died after supposedly swallowing poison ivy, you were devastated. That day you barricaded yourself in your room and weeped. However, it didn’t last too long as you felt a soft breeze kiss your tear-stained face. And with it, you felt familiar arms capture you in its safe embrace. Kazuha rubbed your back and hummed the song of the night as you sobbed into his chest. And soon, you fell asleep by his side, nuzzling in the tender scent of leaves and sun.

Even your visions both appeared at the same time. Back then, you strolled through the Inazuman streets. The annual spring festival was nearing, attracting many people for the unusual event. You held Kazuha’s hand so as not to lose each other—and also to indulge in your romantic fantasies of being close to your crush. Suddenly, your palms felt warmer. The heat intensified, but it wasn’t burning, rather soft and comforting like a gentle kiss of the sun.

When you let go, you noticed a pyro vision in your palm, while Kazuha held an anemo vision. Symbolic or not, but that moment only cemented your love and devotion for your friend. If Celestia herself alluded to your connection, who were you to reject it?

Tsukiyama Shihei appeared before you two perhaps a bit too suddenly. A young samurai, with a heart of gold and hair to match. He wielded an electro vision and a smile as he dropped on your porch, hungry and thirsty.

You let him in, gave him water, and offered a bowl of stew. If only you knew what that encounter would bring. Shihei, the boy who stole Kazuha from you and took him adventuring around the entirety of Inazuma.

You couldn’t join them, you couldn’t abandon your duties after all. However, knowing Kazuha and his wandering nature, you insisted while silently wiping away the tears in the dead of night when no one looked at you.

Your heart cracked at the edges, but you let him go, hiding your heartbreak in the sleeve of your kimono.

Kazuha departed early in the morning on the day of late spring. He hugged you and held you so tenderly as though you were made of glass. His fingers threaded your hair like he craved to engrave the feel of it in his memory. He kissed your lips like a promise, a silent vow to return to you.

And then… he was gone, leaving only with the scent of leaves and sun as a reminder of him.

Inazuma turned out to be bigger than Kazuha expected.

He and Shihei roamed the forgotten islands that weren’t even on the map. The smell of the sea and the rocking of the boat became his new lullaby. He saw places he only read about, and the thought of someday bringing you with him only added to the flattering of his heart.

Still, the thought of you never left his mind. Your image was a constant mirage, giggling and grinning at him. Were you doing okay? Were you sleeping well? Did you miss him as much as he missed you?

His travel bag was full of souvenirs. Everything Kazuha knew you’d like – from the purple seashell to a book of hard-pressed exotic flowers that took him much longer to preserve than he anticipated.

Kazuha longed to come to you, to feel the warmth of your body against his fingertips, and your scents merging together in a fragrance of romance.

His knuckles brushed his lips occasionally, lightly and gently, as though he was afraid to erase the feel of your first kiss.

However, fate had weird ways to play out.

The day the Vision Hunt Decree was enforced was the worst day of his life. It didn’t seem too serious at first, almost like something to scare citizens with divine punishment.

But when the streets overflowed with soldiers who grabbed everyone with a vision in sight, Kazuha acknowledged the scale of the issue.

Screams and pleas filmed his ears. People rushed to flee, but the enforcement was stronger, faster.

Kazuha’s mind immediately wandered to you as he silently prayed in a hectic panic for you to be okay. You could hide until he reached you. He would protect you. He always had.

Kazuha was ready to head home, but… where had Shihei gone?

For the first time in years, calm and collected samurai felt terrified. His heart pounded violently against his ribcage. Blood pumped in his ears till the background noise was nothing but a mere ringing.

When someone informed him of Shihei’s intentions, his body moved even before his brain had the time to comprehend the situation.

“He left to challenge the Shogun against the decree…”

The words echoed in his mind, seeping into his bones like venom. He weaved through the crowd with only one goal in mind – to reach his friend before it was too late.

The flash of thunder, Musou no Hitotachi, nearly blinded him. The image of his friend’s execution would be forever engraved into his memory, burning painfully like a curse.

Kazuha ran as fast as he could. The dying electro vision felt heavy in his grip. Still, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop his feet from running. He couldn’t quell the panic that threatened to consume him like a tidal wave.

He couldn’t stop until he reached you.

The image of you ending up like Shihei haunted him. He helplessly tried to get rid of the sight conjured up by his mind. You, laying lifelessly, your eyes blank, staring into the abyss before your body disintegrated into a million pieces. His fingers clutched the dead vision tighter.

No.

It wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

Kazuha simply had to reach you in time and then you both would flee, run away together, except it wouldn’t exactly be a romantic breakthrough like in a romance novel. You’d always wanted to visit Fontaine or Liyue but never had the opportunity. This was your chance, even if under such dire circumstances.

The sight of your house caused relief wash over the boy. He saw the familiar fence he helped your dad build. Your mom’s flower pots stood aligned with the stoop.

And then, he saw you, sitting on the porch steps as you gazed into the sky. Your favorite kimono hugged your forms just as elegantly as the day he last saw you. The maple print you picked specifically because it reminded you of Kazuha—your Kazuha— made him crack a smile just a bit. You looked so calm and peaceful, unaware of the horrors happening on the other side of the nation.

Kazuha released a shuddering breath. The tension in his muscles eased slightly as soon as his amber eyes landed on you, safe and unharmed. He returned just in time.

The call of your name was loud and urgent. Not a single minute could be wasted.

You turned your head to the source of the sound. Surprise took over your features. Your mouth fell agape, eyes wide at the sight of the samurai. And before you even thought of questioning him, Kazuha engulfed you in a tight hug.

The contact instantly eased some of his worries, calming the nerves that had kept him dancing on the edge. Your hair tickled his cheek, yet he could care less, eager to stay in your embrace and hold you forever.

However…

Kazuha barely had time to whisk you away when you pulled away, brows furrowed and head tilted in obvious confusion.

“Excuse me, who are you?”

Your words shocked him to the core, zapped him from within like a bolt of thunder. Now, it was Kazuha’s turn to stare at you dumbfounded. His arms fell to his side as though losing the strength he needed so much.

His eyes flit over your face in search of any hint that you were just pranking him. He was desperate and anxious. He had to know it was just a joke. You couldn’t have forgotten him in just a couple months, right?

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of what this person wanted from you. Had you ever met him before? Or maybe you resembled someone close to him?

“I think you got the wrong person,” you bowed your head in an apology. Your eyes softened just slightly upon seeing the heartbreak seep into his features.

“…what?” Kazuha whispered, voice quivering with bubbling nerves. Your words felt real. Too real.

The vision shell fell to the ground as Kazuha cupped your face with both hands, thumbs caressing the soft skin. His chest tightened as he locked eyes with you, searching for the answers that would either calm the storm or break him fully.

“It’s me, Kazuha. Don’t you remember me?” His voice was soft like a morning breeze, yet the grief was evident in every letter he pronounced.

You shook your head but didn’t pull away. Your lower lip trembled, and you had to cage it between your teeth. Your eyes brimmed with tears you couldn’t hold back, yet the reason for your sadness was beyond comprehension. It seemed as though you as well were hurt by what you were about to say. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know anyone by that name.”

That simple response was the final nail in the coffin. You weren’t joking. You, his best friend, the love of his life, and the most precious person in the world had truly forgotten him.

Kazuha let go of your face. His arms dropped helplessly, hands trembling violently. He couldn’t believe it. No. It was just a nightmare. And soon he’d wake up on a rocking boat, sailing with Shihei to yet another island. It had to be it, right?

But then Kazuha noticed something.

His amber eyes traveled a bit lower to your neck. It took him a couple of seconds to process, but once the realization set in, his blood ran cold.

Your vision. The token of your love and connection that you wore proudly around your neck… it was gone.

It all made sense now. This new piece of information washed away the feeling of despair and longing, and for the first time Kazuha took a proper look at you – your weak stature, your face undreadable, and your eyes lost the fire that once fueled you, now appearing meek and empty.

Kazuha couldn’t help a single tear falling down his cheek. It… Things shouldn’t have turned out like this. He was supposed to protect you. He promised it the day he wielded his first sword. What kind of a samurai… no… a friend was he if he couldn’t save either of his friends?

The turmoil was more than apparent on his face as he felt something soft touch his face. Kazuha looked at you. You were close, a handkerchief in hand that you used to wipe away his tears.

“Please, don’t cry,” you said softly like that day when you accidentally fell from a tree and Kazuha wasn’t quick enough to catch you. The blame he put on himself back then was too great that he couldn’t contain his emotions.

The simple action, the soft touch with the care and tenderness only you could provide ignited a tiny flicker of hope in his heart. At that moment, through the darkness and fog, Kazuha managed to see you. The real you, not the empty shell of promises you had become.

Kazuha sucked in a breath. He… he could still fix this. It wasn’t too late. You were still there. You still loved him, even if the memories of him fell victim to oblivion. He still had the chance to save you.

The dead vision was back in his hand. The sleeve of his kimono soaked in the remaining tears.

“I… I guess you’re right…” Kazuha pushed, feeling his limbs going numb within seconds. He plastered a polite smile to hide the whirlwind of emotions surging through him. “I have mistaken you for my dear friend, I apologize.”

You nodded, calm and understanding. You watched Kazuha about to leave, but before he could, he turned to look at you one last time.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise,” a new promise. A fresh vow to mend what once had been broken. His voice was soft, yet he spoke with determination.

And then he left.

You never noticed tears roll down your cheeks again. Or perhaps you didn’t care enough to wipe them. All you yearned to do was run after the samurai and hug him tightly. But you couldn’t. How could you? He was a stranger in your eyes. Still, why did your heart bleed watching his figure disappear into the horizon?

*~*~*

A year had passed in a blur of events. Suddenly, Kazuha was swept into the storm he could only submit to. Running away from home felt like a burden. Homesickness often hit him harder than the nausea caused by the rocking boat. However he couldn’t return. He was a wanted man.

There wasn’t a day when Kazuha hadn’t thought of you. Every night before falling asleep he pictured your face before the whole mess unfolded. In his vision, you looked so happy and carefree.

Kazuha often imagined the life the two of you would have if he never left. He would ask you out properly and treat you like the princess you were. You’d laugh freely as you enjoyed your favorite ice-cream while Kazuha gazed at you with fondness and love.

Love…

Who knew that such complex emotion carried destruction and grief?

Over time, the ache in his heart subsided but never left. It merely shrunk into the ball of sorrow that he professionally hid behind a practiced smile.

His new crewmates he met on the crux fleet eased his worries slightly. They were fun, hardworking, and easy-going. Their boisterous laughter and boyish personalities had the power to draw a laughter out of him that flowed into a grin. Still, the wound was too deep to enjoy these moments to the fullest.

Nevertheless, Kazuha would be forever grateful for Beidou for taking him in and giving him shelter when he needed it. And also Thoma, who sent letters to Liyue port at the start of each month where he poured every concern regarding your condition. He dutifully stayed behind in Inazuma and secretly snuck out of the Kamisato estate every once in a while to check up on you.

You remained the same – eyes blank, movements slow, and your smile gone. You looked like you’d lost the meaning of life, reserving to simply wandering around, feeding the strays and watering plants more due to a muscle memory rather than the goodness of your heart.

The moment Kazuha met the famous traveler, Aether, he was certain that the war they all fought had the chance to come to an end. Raiden Shogun could be stopped once and for all.

When Aether and his companion, Paimon descended to the port in Ritou, Kazuha handed him a letter. He informed the boy that the letter was for you, pouring through the ink every promise and regret in hopes that you still waited.

And you did. Subconsciously, even without a single clear life goal in mind, you waited for him. Even if you couldn’t remember who that ‘him’ was, every day you sat at the porch stairs, draped in a maple leaf-styled kimono. You didn’t know who you waited for, yet the puzzles in your brain fell into the blurry image of the samurai that visited you all those months ago.

When you read the letter, your heart cried. You didn’t know the sender, nor the purpose of this text, but you still weeped into the night, stuck in the confines of your bedroom.

Kazuha stood by the entrance of the Tenshukaku. His fingers tingled from deflecting Musou no Hitotachi, breathing labored from the surge of emotions rushing through his veins until an annoying ringing filled his ears.

The silence was eerie, and the anticipation unnerved the every patient man. Was Aether alive and well, having to face the electro archon by himself? They could all but wait and see.

Suddenly, a loud rumbled echoed through the air. The clattering sound carried out in all directions, reaching the unsuspecting ears. What?

Kazuha turned his head to face the source of the sound when he saw it – dozens of visions shone as they traveled through the sky like shooting stars. That was when it dawned on him. The Statue of Omnipresent God, one that had every confiscated vision incrusted in its surface, the symbol of pain and shogun’s tyrany, finally fell. It could only mean one thing—Aether had won. The war was over.

Kazuha felt as though a bucket of icy water was poured over him the more he pondered the moment.

Your vision most likely returned to you.

Rushing past the once terrifying yet glorious statue, Kazuha noticed a singular pyro vision stuck in the stone at the foot of the construction. Something familiar was about that particular vision. It felt warmer, shone brighter, and tugged at the strings of his heart as though beckoning him closer. So, he pried it free, holding the vision like a tresure.

You still sat at the porch steps, nearly falling asleep with your head leaning against the wooden pillar. However, sleep at last abandoned you the moment your eyes landed on the familiar samurai.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. You yearned to run into his embrace, but you couldn’t. He was still a stranger. But why did it feel like you’d known each other for years?

Kazuha approached you, and you stood up from the stairs. Your fingers gripped the material of your kimono as nerves threatened to take over. You didn’t know what to expect, but seeing this man for the first time in a year, you finally felt peace.

Kazuha took a deep breath before offering you the vision with shaky hands. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Doubt painted over your face when you looked at the pyro vision. Was it yours? You did recall owning a vision before it was taken away. But why did he offer it to you?

Still, your instincts told you to trust him. Even if your brain refused to, your heart screamed at you to listen. And you did, taking the vision into your hands with a polite smile.

Kazuha waited anxiously. A small party of him was terrified that simply returning the vision to its rightful owner wouldn’t fix the problem. ‘Please, come back to me…’ Kazuha chanted in his mind, pouring all his emotions into the plea. Yet, as he watched clarity return to your eyes, he could feel as though a mountain weight lifted off his shoulders.

You held the vision in your palm, and suddenly your body flushed as burning sensation traveled from your fingertips and spread all over your skin. Your breath hitched when the world abruptly exploded in colors. The memories that didn’t seem yours surged through your mind in a flash.

You saw yourself, happy and content with the life you’d built with your family and friends. Your love for animals and your conviction to sustain their well-being as though they were your children. You saw Kazuha, your best friend in the whole world. Right… Kazuha… How could you forget?

“Kazuha…?” You whispered, as if you barely believed it yourself. You looked up at him, your gaze clear and bright. Tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes, your lip wobbled before you threw your arms around the boy you grew to love dearly.

Kazuha held you, arms wrapped around your midsection, his hands gripping your kimono as though he was afraid you’d disapear again, sip through his fingers like lose sand.

Your quiet sobs filled his ears, and Kazuha couldn’t help but shed a few tears as well. However, his heart soared. After all the horrors and suffering, you were finally together, and the world be damned if Kazuha ever let you go.

You pulled away just enough to stare at his face. You studied his face, taking notes of his pale skin and the dark circles around his eyes. And then you leaned in, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss. Tears streamed down your face, but neither of you cared enough to notice. You craved his touch just as much as Kazuha longed to bask in your warmth.

You pulled away, foreheads touching, breathing uneven. You smiled so hard your cheeks ached. “Welcome home,” you whispered, overwhelmed with emotions and longing.

“I’m not going anywhere, not without you,” Kazuha replied with another promise, one he’d give anything to keep.

The cry caused them both to freeze on the spot. The voice sounded urgent, desperate even. Kinich raised an eyebrow, listening, observing. 

“You! In a green bandana! Please help!” The voice called out again, louder this time. Now, it was clear that the call was for him, and his muscles tensed. Judging by the obvious plea in the mystery voice, something dangerous lurked out there that had to be eliminated. 

However, when he rushed further down the road, frantically searching for the source of distress, he didn’t expect to find… you, sitting on the ground under a tree, covered in leaves and dust from head to toe. Your clothes were ripped at the edges, and your hair was disheveled, probably from the millions of times you ran your fingers through it in frustration.

You gazed up at him sheepishly, as though a child caught in a naughty act. An awkward smile rested on your lips as you greeted him with a wave of your hand.

“Oh, thanks, Barbatos!” You breathed out in relief, your back straining painfully after hours of sitting.

‘An outsider, huh?’ Kinich thought to himself, his fingers capturing his chin, deep in thought. Still, he couldn’t help feeling dumbfounded. Where was the danger?

“Hi,” you pushed in between nervous giggles, the more he stared at you, expectantly. “I need your help, please. I was traveling when a group of bandits attacked me all of a sudden. I ran to escape them, but landed poorly, and now my foot has been stuck for… 2 hours? I’m not sure… Help me!”

It took Kinich a good minute to process the meaning of your endless rambling. Then his marbled eyes traveled lower to your foot that he had just now noticed was tangled in the tree roots. His head tilted weirdly. He struggled to comprehend how exactly one would find oneself in such a situation, but every person was different, he supposed.

“Loser!” Ajaw screamed as he materialized beside his head. He had a teasing grin on his pixelated face, clearly enjoying your suffering. “Getting yourself stuck like this? Just how clumsy humans can be-!”

“Monster!” You squeaked in panic. Your breath hitched, and your heartbeat quickened at the prospect of being cornered by a potentially hostile creature. You raised your hand, and a powerful gust of wind charged forward like a blast, sending Ajaw flying away until his pixelated form disappeared behind the hills and mountains. His screams echoed into nothingness as he disappeared into the starry sky.

At first, Kinich barely realized what had happened—only feeling the cold stream graze his cheek and ruffle his hair—but the pleasant absence of his companion’s annoying nagging was a heaven’s blessing. Then, the realization hit, and he noticed a gentle glow of an anemo vision pinned to your belt. Now your weird fall made even less sense.

“Phew, that was a close one,” you sighed, pride swelling in your chest as you eliminated the danger. Your face melted slightly in a tired but soft smile. Kinich didn’t feel like correcting your little misconception, deciding to enjoy the solitude while it lasted. “Will you help me out, please?”

He pondered your request. On one hand, Kinich wasn’t exactly known for helping strangers, at least not for a suited price. However, on the other hand, you seemed distressed and desperate enough to trust the first person you encountered to see you in such a vulnerable state. You looked thirsty, seeing the paleness of your face, your exposed legs—covered in cuts and bruises—trembled, perhaps due to the numbness, and your eyes, exhausted and blank, stared up at him with a silent plea.

Alright, he might make an exception this once.

Kinich fished out his obsidian dagger that he bought years ago with his first commission payment, and approached you in two big strides. He ignored your grateful squeal, instead focusing on setting your foot free. The blade moved diligently, slicing the roots like soft butter. All throughout, you never stopped rambling praises and thanks in his ear. If your voice were just a tad bit more unpleasant, Kinich would have taped your lips shut a long time ago.

Finally, your foot was free. Blood instantly rushed down your leg as you stood up, slightly wobbly and shaky. Whether it was the sudden numbness that zapped up your leg, or the endless gratefulness that overrode your senses, you fell right into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck as though he was your anchor. 

“Thank you!” You mumbled over and over again into his neck; somewhere along the lines, you uttered your name as well. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Kinich,” he replied, muscles stiff and rigid. His hand rose to awkwardly pat you on the back.

“Kinich,” you breathed out with a sense of relief. You pulled back and grinned. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

The man nodded in acknowledgment. He let go of you cautiously before turning on his heels and resuming his walk home.

“Wait-!” You called out before grabbing your backpack off the ground and rushing after him on shaky legs. The limp made it difficult to walk, but you persisted as you struggled to fall into step with your new friend. After all, no one would want to spend the night out in the open with dragons and bandits roaming the streets. “Is there an inn where I could spend the night?”

Stage Two: Bonding

Unfortunately, the only inn available for tourists was closed for reconstruction. Kinich felt a smidge of pity at your defeated face as you gazed into the wilderness. However, before you could ponder the possibilities of finding a cozy cave, the guy you just met waved you over with great reluctance.

“One night,” he told you, his piercing eyes eyeing you up and down as though to say, ‘Don’t get too comfortable’

You didn’t have to be told twice. Though you did have to resist the urge to throw yourself at him once again. Perhaps once you had gotten to know each other first.

You snuggled in a worn-out blanket Kinich provided, on his bed, while Kinich himself was situated on the floor. You felt bad for it, of course, but the exhaustion weighing down on your shoulders was stronger than your kindness. So, you plopped down on the rough cushions, passing out almost immediately. 

That night, you slept peacefully, unaware of curious marble eyes peering at you from the darkness.

When Kinich woke up the next morning, you were nowhere to be found. Looking around, the only thing that reminded him of your presence was the neatly made bed and organized bedside drawer. Was it a token of gratitude from your part? Perhaps.

He wondered for a moment how exactly you snuck out without him, a professional saurian hunter, noticing. Especially with his schedule starting at the crack of dawn. Yet, he thought nothing of it.

You were weird, in his opinion. Not in a bad way, just… different. In such a short period, you had managed to create an impression of an adventurous and curious person. Now, Kinich had plenty of experience dealing with lively, hyperactive people—Mualani being the prime example of his never-ending headache. However, you were different. More tender.

Well, too late to ponder now. You had left already without leaving so much as a message. Not like he cared much.

“Kinich! Open the door, you bastard!” Ajaw’s furious voice broke the peaceful silence, slicing through like a sharp blade.

Kinich let out a sigh before striding to the entrance door. Instantly, he was hit with a wave of pixelated fury and complaints as Ajaw rambled nonstop about his ‘seemingly eternal struggles to find a way home because that lunatic (you) sent him flying into the stratosphere.’

“Yeah, yeah, come on, we’ve got work to do,” Kinich responded with a shrug, brain automatically filtering out his companion’s pestering.

Kinich left his little shack, ready to hunt for some commissions for the day, when he saw you, sitting on the edge of the ravine. You held a cup with some hot liquid, for he could see the steam even from a distance, your feet dangled excitedly as though you were waiting for something, anticipating. What were you waiting for at such an ungodly hour when even the sun hadn’t even risen yet?

“It’s that weirdo! That’s it! The great K’uhul Ajaw will show her what happens when you mess with me!” Ajaw was about to charge in your direction, but was roughly stopped by a pull on his tail. “Kinich! You asshole!” 

However, curiosity got the best of him, so Kinich decided to join you. He released the grappling hook, and it stuck to the side of the rock wall with practiced ease. His body was immediately pulled forward, allowing him to reach the top in one swift move. 

You shrieked, ready to fight off the enemy or run for your life yet again. You jumped from your seat, but when your eyes landed on a familiar figure, you released a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, Kinich,” you smiled.

“Hi,” he said with a short wave of his hand.

“You! How dare you treat the Almighty Dragonlord like a toy?? I shall burn you with my rage-”

“The monster is back!” You cried out in a panic and raised your hand to blow away the pixelated creature yet again; however, your movements halted at Kinich’s firm voice.

“Wait,” Kinich said with his hand raised to gesture to you to slow down. As much as he enjoyed the precious silence without Ajaw’s nagging, he figured that one trip to the space for the dragon was enough. For now. “He’s my saurian companion, Ajaw.”

You blinked at him, then at the yellow-green floating pixels beside him. The adrenaline in your system dissipated, and you burst out laughing.

“He looks funny,” your ruthless comment echoed through your giggles, piercing Ajaw’s ears.

“What?!” Ajaw flew towards you, getting in your face with his tiny paws. He flailed and cursed at you, yet he never truly harmed you. Only annoyed you. “How dare you insult the Great K’uhul Ajaw in such a crude way?!”

You grinned at the creature. Your hand raised to pat his head, and he halted. You were surprised to feel the soft texture of his… fur? Skin? Pixels?? You weren’t sure what to make of this dragon, but still, you continued petting him. “Sorry, Ajaw. How about I buy you a treat?”

“Hmm, I suppose I can forgive you, human,” Ajaw, the arrogant and prideful saurian, almost purred at the sensation, a few pixels on his cheeks turning pink.

“Thank you, Ajaw,” you smiled, your hand never ceasing the petting motion.

Kinich stood there, face black as ever, yet inside, he was stunned. Ajaw, the annoying dragon who only listens to the Pyro Archon, folded under your touch? Unheard of. He was intrigued.

“Why are you up so early?” You suddenly asked, switching your attention to the man before you.

“I’ve got work to do,” Kinich responded curtly. He approached you with cautious steps until he stood just a shy distance away from you. “What are you doing here?”

“I doubt you’d find my answer interesting,” you peered up at him, your smile tainted with a hint of sorrow.

Kinich noticed. His level of perception was never to be underestimated. He never said anything, instead softly lowering himself next to you.

So there you two (three) were – sitting in silence, yet it didn’t feel suffocating or awkward. The tension in your shoulders dissipated as you stole occasional glances his way.

Then…

The sun began peeking out. Its rays danced across the sky, coloring nature a gorgeous orange hue. It seemed as though every tree and every leaf turned gold at the mere touch of the sunlight.

You gasped, holding your breath, the cup of tea long forgotten as you set it aside. Your eyes were fixed on the sunrise, one of the things that could bring pure and unfiltered joy into your heart.

“Nature is beautiful,” you commented, still enthralled with the view. “I love watching the sunset. I think it’s the most captivating sight nature could provide. Which is why I like to wake up early in the morning just to catch a glimpse of it.”

Kinich turned his head to look at you. At that moment, in the quiet and soft bubble around you, he finally fully looked at you, and it got him thinking. Now, Kinich was a pragmatic person with realistic views. He tended to assess things with a clear head and cold calculations. Yet, listening to you, he couldn’t help but hum in agreement. While he never found anything particularly pretty about sunset, he still found some truth in your words. 

Alright, you weren’t that odd.

Stage Three: Denial

For the next week, you trailed after Kinich like a lost puppy. No. Scratch that. Like a newly hatched chick that had imprinted on the wrong person and now considered them its mother. 

One night at his house turned into two. Then three. And now, several days had passed while you familiarized yourself with the jarring environment of Natlan.

Surprisingly, you fit in instantly, immersing yourself in a new culture. Often you spent your time in the libraries, devouring one book after another. Whenever you weren’t reading, you’d stroll up the hill to see ‘where the wind would take you.’ It seemed as though you always belonged to Natlan.

And for an unknown to Kinich reason, you had always dragged him along.

“I have to try all the local delicacies! What are your recommendations? You know what? Just come with me!”

“I saw this one place in the guidebook. Where is it? Or maybe it’ll be easier if you took me there yourself.”

“You’re a saurian hunter? That sounds dangerous! Take me with you next time?”

Kinich didn’t exactly care whether you were present or not. One hyperactive person more or less didn’t matter to him. He allowed you to spy from the bushes while he pursued a tepetlisaurus. The commission said that the poor creature was sick, clouding its mind, thus forcing the poor guy to crush and attack anyone and anything it encountered. 

You observed with quiet awe the way Kinich moved through the air, the grappling hook becoming his weapon. His impressive speed and agility left you speechless, and you couldn’t help but sing him praises on your way back.

Over time, Kinich had grown used to your constant presence. You often assisted him during his work, lifting heavy objects or knocking the enemies down the hill. You were no fighter, yet you tried. As you once said to him, “I live for fun and adventure”.

Mualani took a particular liking to you when you inevitably met her. She banged on Kinich’s door first thing in the morning, but only when no one answered did she notice two figures sitting at the top of the ravine, admiring the scenery.

The grin she wore when she jumped at you two from behind was indescribable. Arms locked behind her back, swaying as though preparing for a ritual, Mualani kept glancing at you as though she knew something you didn’t.

After that day, Kinich had two extroverts trailing after him.

However, one was acting particularly… peculiar.

Mualani made it her mission to play the cupid for the two of you. She’d drop (not really) subtle hints about Kinich’s single, sad, lonely, loveless, grey, empty, dejected, miserable love life. She’d release a heavy, exaggerated sigh, maybe shed a single tear for a better performance as well.

Kinich brushed it off like another one of Mualani’s witted antics, but why were you constantly blushing and never denying it? Maybe… No, you wouldn’t fall for a guy like him in a span of two months, right?

Right???

Stage Four: Desire

It all came to fruition on the day of the Natlan Grand Games.

The minute you caught wind of this event, you spared no time submitting your name, which you proudly told Kinich about.

The man cocked an eyebrow at you. Usually, only warriors signed up for this event. Still, he shrugged. After all, unlike the Pilgrimage of the Return of the Sacred Flame, outsiders weren’t forbidden to participate. It was a day to have fun and unwind.

Still, Kinich couldn’t help the slight tinge of worry blossoming in his chest. Foreigners and regular citizens were allowed to sign up, yes, but it never meant that they usually did. Over the years, this event had turned into solely for fighters. Meaning, you, an ordinary adventurer, would have to face seasoned warriors and soldiers, including Kinich, too. Were you gonna be okay?

Kinich’s concerns got crushed on the day of the games. The first competition was The Grand Race through Natlan.

It was a tradition for the contestants to arrive at the Stadium of the Sacred Flame by racing each other. It was a good way of determining their order, too.

All contestants waited patiently at the start line. You stood beside Kinich, warming up your muscles and joints.

“Once the race starts, we’re rivals,” Kinich commented casually as he rotated his arms. His voice sounded as monotonous as ever, yet you still noted the slightest hint of flurry. Almost as though he tried to say, ‘I’m worried about you.’

“I think I’ve told you before,” you glanced his way, rendering him speechless. Your eyes blazed with an ardoring glint that shone even brighter under the rising sun. “I’m here to have fun. And I’ll win you.”

Before Kinich could ponder your words more carefully, the assistant fired the smoke cannon. Green smoke rushed up into the sky, signaling the start of the race.

All the contestants took off. You winked one last time before you rushed after the others. 

No rules, no restrictions, except for eliminating other contestants.

Mualani, last year’s game winner, broke through first. She mounted her sharky board and waved everyone goodbye. Chasca rode her gun like a cowboy. Varesa caught up to the two of them effortlessly before charging past and forward till only purple shocks of electricity were visible. Kachina wasn’t as fast, yet her drill car, one she adorably refers to as Turbo Twirly, proved to be agile enough to take the little girl up the mountain. Ororon was right there with Kachina, yet what he lacked in tools he compensated for with his masculine build and iktomisaur blood. Other vision holders fumbled at the start, yet were swift enough to at least stay within a good distance.

And among this whole mess of screams and adrenaline was you. You didn’t have a weapon or any means of transportation. You were a regular human, one prone to falling and exhaustion. Kinich thought that you, without any athletic background, would fall behind. But you managed to surprise him.

Your figure soared through the sky, akin to a bird. The vision on your belt glowed like a star in the night as you commanded the wind to carry you with a wave of your hand. You laughed with a full chest as though it was the greatest moment of your life. 

At that moment, Kinich felt his heartbeat accelerate. The look on your face wasn’t the one of horror and anxiety that he anticipated. You looked so… happy and free, like nothing at that moment ever mattered. You moved through the obstacles as if you were the wind spirit itself.

With bated breath, Kinich watched you weave through the mess of trees. 

When you jumped off the mountain ledge, he barely restrained himself from following and rescuing you.

All throughout, you laughed, fueled by competitive tension and adrenaline. Never before had you looked more gorgeous than at that moment.

The sight of the stadium brought a new edge to your movements. You accelerated. Sprinting as though running for your life. In a sense, you were. The thrill, the adventure, it was the sole purpose of your existence.

To no one’s surprise, Varesa was the first at the finish line, though perhaps overdid it slightly when she nearly crashed into the wall. She managed to slow down her movements at the crucial moment, yet couldn’t prevent falling face down at the impact.

Mualani came second, striding into the stadium with a little dance and a peace sign. Chaska landed perfectly, fixing her hair as though she had just gone for a stroll.

Screams and cheers erupted as the crowd anticipated with bated breath, guessing who would cross the line next. The noise only grew louder when they saw… you, practically throwing yourself onto the stage. Your body tumbled down, rolling around itself a few times before coming to a full stop.

You lay on your back, chest heaving intensely as you gasped for air. Your face burned with heat as sweat dripped down your forehead. Still, the expression on your face displayed nothing but utter joy. Melodic laughter flowed out of your mouth, eyes sparkling with an excitement and thrill you hadn’t felt in years.

Mualani released a shrill before she jumped toward you. “You were incredible!” The girl squealed excitedly as her body broke into another dance improvisation. 

Chasca grinned and nodded along in acknowledgment while Varesa was busy devouring a triple sandwich she pulled from Archon knows where.

When Kinich joined you in the stadium a minute later, you leaped to your feet before wrapping your arms around his neck. You smiled brightly, feeling your accelerated heartbeats sync.

“Kinich, I did it!” Your voice was loud, infused with the power of personal victory. And against your better judgment, or perhaps intentionally, your lips pressed a firm kiss on the boy’s cheek.

Kinich stood there, stunned and confused. He could practically feel the burn of expectations wafting off his friends. But why did his heart beat faster, and his mind short-circuit, sending unfamiliar jitters down his limbs? He didn’t know, yet his hand raised to awkwardly pat your back as his face turned a bright shade of red.

“Congrats,” his voice was a mere whisper. It sounded hushed and intimate, something meant only for you to hear. And you did.

Stage Five: Love

The following 5 months, you spent getting accustomed to Natlan’s culture. You enjoyed exploring the terrain, learning about the peculiar environment of the Nation of War. You studied the customs with the dedication of a scholar, eager to know everything there was to their culture.

Children and saurians at the Scions of Canopy loved you and your stories. It was a norm to gather before the stage in a tight circle and listen to the tales of your adventures. The chief even offered you a position as a teacher, which you politely declined and continued your storytelling.

Kinich was always there, either by your side or quietly observing from the shadows. He grew used to your presence. Moreover, he yearned for it, unbeknownst to himself. At some point, it became natural to share the commissions with you, and a simple celebratory dinner afterward morphed into a sacred tradition, one he felt unworthy to break.

His friends accepted you a long time ago with open arms and loud cheering… akhem… Mualani… akhem. You became a constant in their lives, bright and cheerful. You became natlanese.

Which was why the news of your departure rattled the air like thunder.

You were much quieter than usual that day, zoning out and mumbling under your breath. Kinich didn’t think much of it at first, thinking that perhaps you had a bad day. The commission you accepted wasn’t the easiest one, so perhaps you were overthinking your performance. It didn’t matter, though. Some delicious food, and your mood would improve significantly. 

Then, as you walked home, you dropped the news.

“I’m departing for Mondstadt tomorrow morning.”

Your words made Kinich come to a complete halt. He stood there, bathing in the moonlight as his mind rushed to process the meaning of your declaration. Even Ajaw fell silent, slowly descending to earth like a deflating balloon.

“Oh,” was all Kinich could say. His gaze dropped to the ground, fists clenched, and chest tight. His expression remained blank and reserved as ever, yet inside he felt a surge of emotions wash over him like a tsunami and knock him off his feet. Still, he didn’t show it. He couldn’t.

“I will be back,” you hastily added, hoping to lighten the mood even just slightly. However, just as quickly, your face fell into a poorly masked sorrow. “Just… not sure when…”

“That’s cool,” some would say that Kinich’s response was harsh and cold, like he didn’t care, or even wished for your departure. However, after spending months glued to his side, you knew better.

You could see the corners of his lips twitch, or the way his shoulders tensed with something heavy and burdening. Kinich was never good at showing grand emotions. He was a simple guy with his mind set on his goals and taking steps toward them. Yet, at that moment, you saw the cracks breaking through the tough exterior. Your heart clenched, craving nothing but to say it was just a joke, but you couldn’t.

You wanted to leave quietly, without drama and tears. However, when you got ambushed at the entrance of Natlan, you knew your wishes weren’t met. 

Kachina ran at you before wrapping her small arms around your waist. Her sky-blue eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her lower lip wobbled as she pinched it between her teeth. She mumbled something incoherent while nuzzling her face into your stomach. “Please don’t go…”

You nearly cried yourself, blinking multiple times to force the tears away. You threaded your free hand through Kachina’s hair in soothing motions, hoping it would help calm down the little girl. “I have to… My family is waiting for me. I’ve been away long enough, I can’t just leave them in the dark.”

“Why you never said anything? We could’ve at least thrown you a goodbye party!” Mualani complained loud and clear as she flailed her arms.

“Selfish peasant! Abandoning the Almighty Dragonlord like that? Have you got no shame?” Ajaw popped at your side and floated around you, berating you nonstop. You giggled at his dramatism.

“We just wanted to wish you a safe journey,” Kinich said as he promptly joined the group. Your pulse quickened upon seeing him, and your heart dropped to your stomach at the realization that you wouldn’t see him for a very long while… if ever at all.

Kinich appeared the same, yet the dark circles under his eyes told you that he barely got a wink of sleep last night.

“Can I talk to you alone before you go?” Kinich asked, glancing at Mualani and Kachina, silently asking for some privacy. He shot Ajaw a glare as though saying that the same applied to him.

Mualani, ever the empath, caught up on it immediately and ushered her friend as well as the pixelated saurian away. At last, she threw one last glance your way. Her eyes softened, full of concern and hope.

“I got something for you,” Kinich said once the others were out of earshot. His voice was tender, anxious, almost like something bigger was hiding beneath the low timbre.

You watched him pull something small out of his pocket. The item wasn’t one you could recognize right away, but once you took a proper look at what exactly Kinich held out for you, your heart nearly stopped. Your eyes grew impossibly wide, breath hitched, threatening to explode your lungs from the inside out. You had read about it. One of the oldest traditions that nowadays was more of an option rather than an obligation. It was a token of determination and desire, for it was crafted with feathers and scales from all six saurians that resided in Natlan, carefully woven together into one piece.

A courtship bracelet.

“Kinich… I…” You were at a loss for words. Such an abrupt gesture wasn’t something you expected from your aloof and reserved friend. Perhaps you were unsure of his feelings toward you, or never took him for the romantic type.

So, as a proper response, you thought of nothing but to lean in and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, arms wrapping around his neck just to feel him closer. His palms gripped your waist, pulling you into his body as though he didn’t want to let you go. Although it wasn’t far from the truth.

Your chest tightened with overwhelming emotions that you could no longer contain. Tears slowly trickled down your face until you could taste that salty flavour on your tongue. You didn’t care, nor did Kinich. You craved only one thing – to engrave the sensation of this kiss into your memory, have it burn in your mind like a beacon of hope.

At last, you pulled away, breathless, cheeks wet and burning. You accepted the bracelet and slipped it on your wrist as though it were holy. The size fit just perfectly, making you smile to yourself.

“I’ll treasure it, I promise,” you uttered, wiping away your tears on the hem of your t-shirt. 

And just like that, you were gone, slipped through his fingers like loose sand. You appeared in his life unexpectedly. You wove yourself into the routine Kinich had built over the years, and then left, leaving an empty hole, one he wasn’t sure would ever close.

Natlan fell back into its usual way of things. Kinich resumed his regular job of completing commission after commission. He tried to go back to the way things were, but still, every day without fail, he started out his day by watching the sunrise with a cup of tea.

How did you manage to engrave yourself in every aspect of his life?

No matter where Kinich went, he could picture your silhouette crouching by the bushes, or your giggles any time a friendly saurian got a little too curious and tried to steal his share of cuddles.

Even your scent lingered on his pillow for a while. At night, he sometimes pictured your face, your soft touch, and, of course, the heat of your lips on his. The memories made his chest tighten.

Yet, deep inside his heart, Kinich harboured just a tiny flicker of hope that one day you’d come back.

3 years had passed since your departure. Kinich found his rhythm and stuck with it. Slowly, but eventually, the ache in his heart eased into a dull buzz. Occasionally, his mind would drift to thoughts of you. Were you okay? How were things back home? Did you make it safely? He could only wait and see.

The day seemed to stretch impossibly long. The job of tracking down a group of poachers took longer than he’d like. By the time he finished, the sun had already set, offering its throne to the night. 

Kinich walked home, rolling his eyes at the never-ending complaints of his saurian companion, when…

“HELP!” The cry for help alerted his senses. His marbled eyes flicked to the source of the voice. It came somewhere from the forest, clear enough to know the person was close.

Kinich moved swiftly. Ignoring a sense of deja vu, he weaved through the trees, frantically searching for the danger. However, he was greeted by nothing but silence. The boy was about to leave when a body suddenly slammed into his back.

Eyes widening in shock, his instincts screamed at him to shake off the weight of the enemy. But then, he caught a glimpse of a familiar bracelet on the person’s wrist. And then, his senses got invaded by a scent. Your scent.

Kinich finally looked back, only to see your face, grinning at him the same way you did 2 years ago. You didn’t change much – slightly slimmer, your hair grew a few inches, yet the same adventurous twinkle in your eyes only seemed to blaze brighter.

“Did you miss me?” You asked in a teasing voice, arms still wrapped around his neck. You giggled at his stunned expression, mentally marking your surprise mission a success.

“Good gosh, the peasant is back! You sure took your sweet time!” An array of angry red pixels twirled around you as Ajaw cried profanities at you, yet you could locate the hint of longing in his voice. That fact made you giggle, and you reached your hand to pat his head the way you used to.

“Long time no see, Ajaw,” you grinned at him, and the saurian melted.

Meanwhile, Kinich just stared at you. His pupils were blown, eyes widened ever so slightly. Time froze in the moment, the longer he looked upon you like at a mesmerizing illusion. Though Kinich recovered rather quickly as he captured you into his embrace almost instantly. “Welcome back,” he whispered reverently into your ear, his grip tightened, as though afraid that it was nothing but a dream.

“Sorry I took so long,” you gladly returned the hug, nuzzling impossibly closer. Your heart soared, feeling complete again. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Kinich pulled away to look at you in confusion. He tilted his head as though asking for clarification. To which your grin widened, and he saw your eyes sparkle. Did you mean what he thought you meant?

You glanced at the clock on the wall. Steve was about to come home any minute, and you could barely wait. So, you shufted your focus back on checking the preparation level to concince yourself that nothing was amiss. The date night was going to be perfect. It had to be.

All because that day was the first anniversary of your marriage.

Looking over the table, candles lit, overflowing with Steve’s and your favorite food, and a bottle of wine waiting to be opened, you reminisced about the day you met.

You were simply bored out of your mind. It was the middle of the summer break. You lazed around in the living room when you decided to at least rent a movie, otherwise the mundanity would drive you crazy. The moment you entered the video store, you met Steve. You instantly noted how good-looking he was – charming eyes, hair styled in a mullet, and a dumb grin that he quickly morphed into a smirk.

That day Steve approached you with an aura of confidence and a sweet smile. He offered his personal movie recommendations along with cringe pick-up lines that, for some reason, you found funny and adorable. And yes, the movie he picked out was good.

If only you knew where your boredom would land you 5 years later. Back then you couldn’t even imagine that several dates later, right after graduation, you’d marry a man who’s first words to you were, ‘Are you the sun? Cause you blinded me.’

The click of the door knocked you back into reality, and you rushed into the living room to greet your beloved husband. Your grin widened, eyes watering slightly when you saw Steve standing in the doorway, holding a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers. He, too, was smiling, eyes twinkling the second they landed on you.

“Happy anniversary, my darling wife,” Steve drawled the word ‘wife’ as if it was something sacred; something meant to be treasured like diamond.

Elated, you rushed into his embrace, your heart pounding violently in your ribcage. Steve huffed when you colided, but the man was quick enough to move the bouquet away from the trajectory of your deadly hugs. Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, while his free one settled on the small of your back. You peppered his face in dozens of short kisses, making him burst with a heartfelt laughter.

“Happy anniversary, my handsome husband,” you giggled, yet couldn’t help the bashful heat creeping up your face. “Will my dearest show me the courtasy to accompany me for a lovely dinner?”

“Mind if I do,” Steve murmured before he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

You sighed into the kiss, eyes closing in a quiet delight. You felt the warmth of his palm tracing patterns from your back, traveling upwards until it cupped your face. His thumb absentmindedly caressed your soft cheek as his teeth gently nibbled on your lower lip.

“Patience,” you said breathlessly when the will to pull away finally found you. You rubbed your nose on his like a cat and smiled. “Come on before food runs cold.”

Hours later, dinner had been devoured, the wine bottle half empty. Soft tunes played through the radio as you and Steve slow-danced in the living room under the dim lights. Your head was tucked in the crook of his neck while he tenderly caressed your lower back.

The atmosphere was soft, and you couldn’t help but melt.

“Steve?” You called out gently but refused to untangle yourself from his warmth.

Your husband hummed in acknowledgement, too relaxed for a proper answer.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about us a lot recently,” you said quickly.

“Yeah? What exactly have you been thinking of?” Steve brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear before his lips descended to press into your forehead.

“What if…” you bit your lip so as not to burst into a giggling mess. Suddenly, you felt like a teen again that couldn’t find words to confess to her crush. Slowly, you pulled away to gaze into Steve’s dazzling eyes, your palms clutching the material of his shirt. “What if our family expanded by one?” You bit your lip, bubbling with both excitement and anxiety.

Steve blinked at you. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning. His hold on you tightened, one of his hands traveled from your waist to palm your cheek. His eyes began watering, with a hopeful glint igniting within. Then, he grinned, releasing a shuddering breath.

“Oh gosh, my love, are you pregnant???”

Only now did you realize how your words sounded. Your mouth dropped slightly in confusion, and you laughed. It wasn’t cruel or mocking, rather a way of your body to finally release the tension you’d been suppressing for the last few days. You ignored the confused look on your husband’s face and proceeded to cup his cheeks, a day-old stubble poking your soft skin.

“Wait, wait, no, I mean, not yet, at least,” you quickly uttered, threading your fingers through his silky hair. You gazed up at him, eyes full of love and adoration. “What I’m saying is… You’ve always talked about having a big family, that it’s your dream.”

You could pinpoint the moment the light of hope sparked once again in him, and it made you smile wider.

“And lately,” you continued, holding your husband close to ground yourself in the moment. All because once you said the magic words, there would be no turning back. However, that was exactly what had gotten you exhilarated in the first place. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us and how absolutely happy you make me.”

“I love you,” Steve whispered as though afraid to burst the precious bubble you created.

“I love you too,” you responded, voice hushed to match his. You promptly stole a quick peck before you stared right into his soul. Taking a deep breath, you finally said, “I’m ready, Steve. I want to give you the family you dream of.”

The time seemed to stop as the rest of the world froze in the moment. The only sound was the soft tune coming from the radio.

You held your breath in anticipation of your husband’s answer for a fairly sudden confession. Steve had told you about his dream to have a big family when your relationship turned serious. The day you got married, you made a promise to fulfill his dream one day.

Never once had you missed the longing look on your husband’s face any time you passed by a kindergarten. The care and fondness he put in every touch as he held your cousin’s newborn. You saw it all.

Yet, Steve never pressured you. He was patient and loving in everything he’d ever done for you. So, you thought to yourself, Steve Harrington would make an incredible father.

You felt wetness coat the pads of your fingers. You couldn’t help but cry along with your husband. The way he looked at you said his answer better than he ever could with words.

“My love…” Steve whispered against your lips, foreheads pressing together. “Are you serious?”

“I am,” you nodded and smiled, your thumb grazing his cheeks to wipe away the hot tears. “I want us to finally become parents. Would you like that?” It was a stupid question, really. And the way Steve grabbed your waist, lifted you above the ground, and twirled with you in his arms proved it.

“Would I like that? Of course I fucking would!” Steve laughed, tears still brimming in his eyes. However, he wasted not a single moment before maneuvering your body to hold you bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom.

You giggled at his eagerness as Steve impatiently lowered you on the sheets. His lips found home on yours as he hovered over you, the sight caused your thighs to twitch. He kissed your cheek, then your nose, your forehead, your neck, anywhere he could reach, really. One of his arms supported his weight, while the other was busy unlacing your dress.

Steve kissed you again, slow and sensual, yearning to pour his love and emotions, convey his anticipation and gratitude. He pulled away, breathless and flushed. His forehead pressed against you in a familiar motion, and you were on the verge of bursting at the intimacy of the moment. “Let’s put a baby into you.”

*~*~*

You paced around the living room. You were a twitching and nervous mass as you glanced at the kitchen timer. Time stretched painfully slow, and you hated it. It had only been 2 minutes.

You grabbed the empty box of pregnancy tests from the counter, rereading the instructions as though it would change anything. Spoiler, it didn’t. The timer still ticked at a torturous pace, driving you insane.

A groan fell off your lips, and you began pacing again. Almost two months had passed since you and Steve began trying for a baby. You thought it would be easy, but, truthfully speaking, it was your fault for getting your hopes too high, for, apparently, conceiving wasn’t as easy.

4 negative tests a month ago only made your anxiety grow. Those singular lines haunted you every day to the point that you questioned your own body's ability to grow another human being. Suddenly, you stopped, heart dropping to your stomach. What if you couldn’t have kids? Would Steve leave you for a woman who could? Of course, Steve would never do anything like that, but it still made your heart clench in worry.

At the end of the day, adoption was always an option. Mentally, you began listing every adoption center you knew, which was none. But it was okay, you could always look it up in the newspaper or a directory.

It upset you that you wouldn’t experience the feeling of growing your own kid, but you and Steve would love that child anyway.

Would you take a boy or a girl? You had always pictured Steve raising a babygirl. You imagined the way he’d patiently teach her how to read or allow her to braid his hair. However, regardless of the gender, you knew that Steve would give his damn best to be a great dad. You just knew that.

What if…

Suddenly, the annoying ringing of the timer broke through the fog of overthinking. You gasped before rushing to the bathroom where you left the pregnancy tests. Your heart beat so fast, you could practically hear your own heartbeat. Sweat gathered in the creases of your palms, and you dragged them down your t-shirt. Gosh, you were so nervous.

The bathroom door slammed open with a bit more force than you planned, bouncing off the wall with a nasty bang, but you could care less at the moment. Your goal laid there, facing down, on the edge of the pristine sink, and suddenly, your body locked.

4 sticks taunted you, calling out for you like sirens. Your steps were slow, hands shaking as though you approached a bomb. Maybe, at this point, it was the bomb. You weren’t sure.

“Pull yourself together…” you mumbled under your breath, taking leisure breaths to calm down your racing heart. “We’ll just… try again.”

With that, you approached the sink in one big stride and grabbed all 4 sticks not wanting to drag this out even more than you already had. Your eyes closed, and then… you turned over the tests facing you.

You didn’t want to look. What if they were negative again? That would break your heart. Perhaps you should’ve waited for Steve to come home from his shift. Maybe you still can-

Traitorously, your eyelid fluttered open ever so slightly, peeking at the image hiding in plain sight. At first, the image was blury because you squeezed your eyes too harshly. You blinked to wipe away the fog. Then…

Your heart nearly stopped. Your mouth hung open. You didn’t even notice tears streaming down your face as you stared at the double lines on all 4 tests. A sob broke free and you squealed in joy. The feeling was so overwhelming you felt dizzy.

Diluc had just returned from his nightly duty. The infiltration and the fight with the Abyss Order took much longer than he had initially planned. His muscles ached, and all he wanted was to return to the comfort of his home. Truth be told, when saying ‘home’, Diluc wasn’t talking about his mansion. Not at all.

Ever since the death of his beloved father, Dawn Winery, a piece of historical heritage, had been nothing but an empty shell of walls and stairs. That was until you, his lovely wife, strode into his life and brought light to the darkest corners of his heart. 

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he thought of you, your gentle voice, the way you called his name as though he was your anchor, your contagious laughter that had the power to break through his defences, your precious blush when your friends teased you for being absolutely devoted to him, and your hands that always held him so tenderly like he was the most cherished man ever lived. 

Diluc was a busy man. Managing the manufacture of what most considered the nation’s treasure was no easy feat, despite what one might think. Additionally, he often disappeared into the night to protect his homeland in his own way.

Which was why Diluc missed you terribly. 

When was the last time you both went to sleep together? Or when did you last spend the evening doing nothing but relaxing, tangled in each other’s arms? Had it been a week? Two weeks?

The man felt like a horrible husband, unable to even make time to fully devote himself to you, the love of his life, to tend to your needs and love you the way you truly deserved. 

As he opened the front door, Diluc made a promise to himself to make more time for you. Even if it meant staying up late to finish the paperwork, it was worth it. You were worth it.

His steps were quiet. Any squeak or noise could rouse Adelinde from her slumber. Despite the obvious gap in the statuses, Adelinde never shied away from telling Diluc off when necessary, and there was yet to be the moment when she was ever short on reprimanding vocabulary. 

Still, Diluc yearned to reach you as fast as possible. His heart pounded in his chest like that time before your first date. The memory stayed fresh in his mind as though it had happened yesterday. That day, when you shyly approached the man at the Angel’s Share and stuttered your confession, was the turning point of his entire life.

His fingers curled around the door handle, and then he pushed the door open. A soft click resonated throughout the quiet atmosphere, and for a split second, Diluc bit his lip, worried that the sound might rouse you awake. His body stilled as he shot a quick glance your way. 

You still slept peacefully, tangled in the satin sheets. Your chest heaved as soft snores fell from your lips.

Diluc’s smile grew the more he stared at your form. You wore his nightshirt that practically swallowed your figure. But it smelled like him and shared just a sliver of warmth that you usually received plenty in the shape of your husband. 

A bittersweet pang resonated in his chest at the mere thought of you staying up late, waiting for Diluc, but failing.

Diluc must absolutely dedicate at least a week to you. Perhaps, he could ask you on a date. Or better, swoop you off your feet and take you traveling, like he did on your honeymoon.

Diluc approached the bed, the moonlight pooling into the room through the big windows. He shrugged his coat along the way, throwing it carelessly onto the chair by his desk. There was one goal in his mind – to reach you and wrap you up in his embrace. 

However, when Diluc made his way to the bed, he finally noticed a foreign figure, lying right beside you, hiding just underneath the sheets. Your arms were swung over them, even in your slumber, pressing them closer to your chest like your lover.

Anger and confusion bubbled in his chest. Diluc stared at you and the unknown form snuggling with his wife. The man had to bite his lip so as not to burst into flames, both figuratively and literally. He tried to control his emotions, yet there was almost smoke coming out of his nose. His fists clenched at his sides before he tugged the gloves off his hands a bit too roughly. 

But aside from everything, Diluc couldn’t understand why you would take another man into his bed? Was he too late? Had you already moved on? Gave up both on himself and your marriage?

No.

Diluc couldn’t nose-dive to conclusions.

He had to ask for your reasonings first.

This time, Diluc didn’t bother with trying to suppress the noise that emitted from his boots. He stomped over to the bed, already cracking his knuckles to prepare to punch whoever cuddled you. After all, it was his duty to dote and love you. He grabbed the sheets, fingers tight till the tips of them turned white. Then… he yanked.

The rustling of the material bounced off the walls like thunder. The motion was quick and efficient, made to uncover the truth. To unveil the deceiving projection of his mind or the cruel reality.

Diluc had already raised his fist into the air when he saw… his face, staring back at him.

Now, the man fully succumbed to confusion. The fury dissipated just as quickly as he hovered over the bed. His brain worked overtime to piece together any logical explanation. But he never found an answer as to what exactly stared at him from your embrace. 

“Diluc?” Your soft and groggy voice pulled him out of his trance, and Diluc at last turned his head to look at you.

You were most likely woken up by the rough and abrupt removal of the sheets, chill air instantly nipping at your exposed skin. You rubbed your tired eyes and squinted at the man through the fog that still clouded your vision.

Only then did Diluc notice that his arm was still raised, ready to punch the intruder. He coughed into his fist, arm lowering as he descended to sit on the edge of the bed.

“My love,” Diluc called out softly before pointing at the odd image of him in your arms. “What is that?”

“Oh?” You asked, confused, head slightly raising to even out the image in your eyes. Then, you glanced down and suddenly everything made sense. “Ohh, this is a ‘body pillow’ that my friend got me. She put a commission to embroider your image on a pillow so that I could cuddle it any time.”

Relief instantly flooded Diluc’s system. He released a shuddering breath, thanking the deities that the truth was much simpler than what he had conjured up in his head.

“I know, it’s not you, but it helps me sleep when you’re away,” you continued. Your voice was laced with sadness, making Diluc’s guilt only grow and bash uncomfortably in his ribcage.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Diluc whispered as he carefully pried the body pillow from your hold, settling it on the chair—facing away from the bed, just in case—before replacing it with his own body. His arms immediately wrapped around your form, while he placed a few tender kisses along your forehead. He smiled at the way you easily melted into his chest. “I’ve been neglecting my most important duty as a husband as of late. What do you say we go out tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” You asked with an obvious teasing lilt to your voice. Your fingers slowly threaded through his fiery locks and gently massaged his scalp.

“I sure am,” once again, Diluc pecked your forehead. Then your nose. Then, finally, his lips landed on your own, capturing them in a soft and sensual kiss. 

His hand palmed your cheek, craning your face for easy access until finally it was time to pull away. You exhaled and grinned at him, his palm still on your cheek. “Well, I suppose I have no other choice but to agree.”

Diluc chuckled. Your witty remarks would be the death of him someday. His arms tightened, pressing you snuggly into his chest. He breathed in the flowery scent of your shampoo. His breathing slowed. He was finally home.

“Let’s sleep, my love,” Diluc whispered into your hair, yet his hold remained secure.

You saw a loner rock by the road and kicked it with every ounce of your strength, pouring out your frustration. The soles of your boots grazed the gravel surface, and the rock was sent flying far away. You hoped it would hit a hilichurl or a boar to have some sort of entertainment on your way, but no. Instead, the rock landed on a dandelion flower. Dozens of dandelion seeds detached from the stem before the wind carried them high up the sky.

You sighed again. It felt like Celestia herself was mocking you at this point.

The thing was… you were lucky. Extremely, ridiculously so. Ever since you were little, nothing in your plans could ever go wrong as everything was handed to you on a golden platter.

Whenever you stepped outside into the pouring rain to feel the waterdroplets glaze your skin, the clouds would clear immediately, leaving you dry, literally as well as figuratively.

Any time you were low on mora, you had zero troubles making a deal on your handmade scarves and sweaters. Adventurers would offer hefty sums of money for such ‘one of a kind intricacy’.

Your luck stretched to the point that even if you jumped off a high cliff, you would land on an anemo slime, keeping you perfectly safe and sound until you’d slid back onto the solid ground with a grunt and an eyeroll.

Adventuring was something that you dreamed of ever since you accidentally stumbled into an Adventure Guild back in your homecountry. You heard plenty of stories from different people, absorbing their anecdotes with every fiber of your being. So you made it your mission to become an adventurer too, to see the wonders of the world with your own two eyes.

When you turned 17, you left home with nothing but a map and a journal to document everything you encountered. Things were fine at first… you traveled from Fontaine to Sumeru, a place where you managed to keep your skin free of any scratches. Then, you headed to Liyue where not even ruin guards could bother you, for they were always broken. You were grateful for that, but over time, the rush of excitement faded into a gentle buzz, and realized just how utterly tedious things were.

You never once had to solve a single puzzle, for all the mechanisms you found to be broken, glitched in a way that left the main door open for anyone to march inside. Of course, all the treasures remained inside, untouched.

You craved a challenge. You yearned for a thrill of having to evade the danger or solving the mysteries the world had to offer. Yet, your wishes never came true, and at this point you were contemplating simply returning home without a single exciting story to tell.

You arrived in Mondstadt before sunset. The magnitude of colors painting the sky only added to your melancholy. The warm colors were supposed to calm one’s mind, yet for you it was a reminder of your boring life.

Still, you harboured a tiny flicker of hope that perhaps the City of Freedom would lift the curse placed on you by the Gods.

You approached the city in lazy steps, exhausted from the long and tedious journey. The guards nodded your way in acknowledgement, and you noted their friendly yet practiced smiles meant to disarm anyone crossing the borders.

Walking through the giant archway, you found yourself facing the bustling streets. Tall, massive buildings lined up in an intricate structure, though it was easy to get lost in there.

To your left, there was a blacksmith, a big and burly man who made forging seem like a child’s play.

To your right you saw a young girl by the flower stall. She called out to people, urging them to buy the beauty she put her soul into.

It was lively. The setting was simple, yet filled with so much life and passion, you wished to be engulfed in it.

Your eyes landed on Katheryne. You weren’t even surprised to see her in Barbatos’s nation too. It felt nice to have at least one familiar face.

Then, you headed further into town, eyes gliding over every surface, hoping to engrave the sight into your memories.

Soon, you reached a fountain. It wasn’t as massive as in Fontaine, yet pretty enough to captivate your attention. You fished out a gold coin out of your pouch before tossing it into the water. You clapped your hands and closed your eyes to make a wish. ‘Please, may the unluck find me’ you thought to yourself, a soft, defeated smile on your face

You stepped into the inn, a gentle ring of the little bell above the door traveled through the air. Looking around, you noticed a clean and vast space, filled with wooden tables and chairs. The lanterns on the walls only added to the domestic atmosphere. Dozens of people occupied the space, drinking and laughing, simply enjoying the gift of life.

A young woman sat at the reception desk with a book in her hands. Her nose would scrunch occasionally as she traveled further into its content.

“Hello,” you said with a smile. “I need a room for the night.”

The woman, startled by the suddenness of your voice, looked up at you, wide-eyed and panicked. Yet, the fright quickly fell off her face, instead replaced by a look of sorrow. “Welcome! I am so sorry, but we’re out of rooms due to the upcoming festival.”

Your eyes lit up, much to the confusion of the lady. You remained cautious yet couldn’t help but wonder… Could it be… your luck had finally ceased?

However, you spoke too soon, as you came to realize.

Right as you were about to leave the place at once, a man—probably in his forties—clearly inebriated, bellowed at the top of his lungs. His voice was deafening, laced with venom and fury at something no one could pinpoint.

All eyes turned to him in obvious fear. The man grabbed the edges of the table before roughly tipping it over. Cups and plates crashed with a loud clunk, food and drinks scattered everywhere, including other guests.

People began hurriedly leaving the inn, afraid of accidentally becoming the target of an enraged man. Luckily, the knights arrived quickly, tackling the hooligan before dragging him outside, while he yelled unintelligible profanities.

You watched the scene unfold, face flat and unreadable. No one had said anything, yet you already knew what was coming.

“G-good news,” the receptionist said, stuttering through her clenched teeth. “One room just became vacant. Would you like to take it?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, again. If it was still morning, you would storm out of the building in anger. You flashed the woman a tired look and nodded.

You visited the Adventures Guild in the morning, thinking that you could at least mark your name in the manuscripts before your departure back to your homecountry.

You grinned lazily at Katheryne. You’ve always wondered how she managed to rise at the crack of dawn to serve adventurers papers. However, you never persisted. People had their own reasons.

You grabbed the commission request she handed you and nodded.

“Gather the healing herbs? Too easy,” you muttered under your nose and tucked the paper into your pouch. You grumbled at the prospect of yet another uneventful day. However, before you could leave, you heard a voice.

“Eh?? No commissions available?”

“I apologize, but the last one we recieved has just been taken,” Katheryne said, a tinge of pity dripping off her words.

“Oh… I see… No worries, I should’ve expected it…”

You turned around to the source of the voice. There, by the receptionist desk, you saw a young boy your age. His pure white hair swayed in the wind, only kept in place by rusty goggles on the top of his head. His pale skin was decorated in scars. Maybe he earned them in a battle? Yet, the most captivating feature were his eyes. The emerald green hues shone brightly in the sunlight. His features feigned sadness, still his eyes remained warm like the morning sun. A pink tinge colored your cheeks when you realized you were staring at him.

Before the boy could leave, you called out for him, waving your hand to get his attention.

“Hey, wait up!” You cried out, jogging up to him. “I took the last commission. We can go together if you’d like.”

The white-haired boy looked at you, stunned, before turning his head left and right as though to make sure you were talking to him.

Thinking that perhaps you came off too boldly, you cleared your throat. Your name flowed softly, rolling off your tongue like a serenade. “What’s your name?”

“Bennett…” he mumbled, and only then did you notice a soft blush creeping up his face. Good. You weren’t alone in this. Bennett coughed into his fist, and in a matter of seconds, he turned cheerful. “I’m Bennett! Nice to meet you!”

“Hi, Bennett,” you smiled warmly, his aura was too bright not to. “So… Do you want to go and complete this commission together?”

“Oh!” He said, eyes gleaming with excitement. But just as quickly, his face fell, adorned with a sorrowful smile. “I’d love that, but I don’t think it’s a good idea…”

“Why not?” You inquired, a frown on your face.

“You see… I’m very unlucky, so I might jinx you or cause you misfortune if we go together,” Bennett replied with his eyes on the ground. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, almost awkwardly. “So, you take it! You were first after all. I can always wait for another commission.”

You deflated, feeling rejected, yet your respected his decision. Your lips curled into a pout, and you were about to stride off on your lonely, perfect adventure. However, you didn’t leave far when his words finally registered in your brain. You pivoted on the balls of your heels as fast as you could, catching up to Bennett yet again.

“Wait, what did you say??”

“I… I have bad luck, so you’d be better off without me- WHOA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Bennett cried out in a panic when you suddenly grabbed his wrist and jogged toward the city gate.

You moved swiftly, almost impatiently. A sour pout morphed into a crazy grin. Your eyes were blown-wide as though with fright, yet nothing but excitement painted your features.

Only when you rushed out of Mondstadt did Bennett finally manage to free his wrist and pull away from you. He yanked his hand like he had touched a flame.

He was panicking internally. What if his bad luck rubbed off on you? He would hate for anything bad to happen to you because of him.

He wanted to tell you off and run away like a frightened hare. Though, with how brightly you smiled at him, giggling softly under your breath, the boy couldn’t help but feel enthralled.

“We must go on an adventure together!” You beamed at him, forsaken hope blooming inside your chest.

A deep blush rose to his cheeks as he gazed upon your eyes. All his resolve to turn you down crumbled, and Bennett found himself offering a shy nod. “If you insist.”

“I insist,” you replied with a smile.

It was weird. Bennett noticed it even before you two reached the location mentioned in the commission. It wasn’t a pretty stranger walking alongside him that bothered him. No. Rather the fact that his bad luck suddenly… stopped?

For starters, a pretty stranger walked alongside him. His eyes would occasionally dart your way, stealing glances of your beaming face. What had made you so joyful?

Second, he hadn’t tripped A SINGLE TIME throughout the pathway. Not once had he fallen into a puddle. He never even tumbled down the hill and fell into the river.

When you began gathering herbs, not once had you encountered a whopperflower.

It was so weird.

Could it be… you?

Bennett turned to look at you again only to find you pouting, a deep frown prominent on your face. You sat on the grass, herbs on your lap as you sorted them out into small sheaves.

Guilt seeped into his bones. He didn’t know that the cause of your low mood was your ongoing luck. Instead, he blamed himself for not being a better company.

An idea bloomed in his mind on how to lift your spirit.

Throwing one last glance your way, Bennett took off further into the woods. “I’ll be back soon!” The boy yelled out in response to your call.

His steps were certain. Driven by the unknown force and an undeniable urge to bring a smile to your face.

There was something about you. As though you were a magnet that pulled him to you. Your voice. Your smile. It felt as if his soul begged to stay close to you. Like you were his charm.

Eventually, Bennett found what he was looking for. Amidst the trees and bushes, there he saw a field of cecilia flowers. He smiled, simply imagining the look on your face when he’d give the small bouquet. He could only hope you’d like them.

Elated, Bennett walked up to the field. However, when he grabbed the flower stem, a pyro whopperflower jumped at him, knocking the boy off his feet.

Bennett grunted. Of course. His bad luck was sure to tail him everywhere. Who was he to dare think that it abandoned him for good?

He manifested his sword, ready to take on the monster. It was fine. It wasn’t the first time he fought those creatures that were the source of his scars. He could do it.

“Bennett?!” You called out. Your feet carried you faster than you could think when you heard a loud, banging sound akin to an explosion.

You weaved through the woods to make sure your new friend was okay. Panting heavily as you ran, you finally found the flock of white hair. Relief washed over you instantly.

“Good thing you’re oka-”

“Run!” Bennett yelled out. He swiftly sheathed his sword, for fighting the monster with you nearby was dangerous. Coupled with his bad luck it was detrimental.

Bennett’s body moved faster than his brain could comprehend. He reached out for you, grabbing your hand. Now, the roles were reversed to your initial encounter as you both rushed through the forest far far away from the whopperflower.

You looked back only to see the monster chase you. It… it was new to you. You expected a tree branch to fall on the creature or a cryo slime to accidentaly land on it, thus crushing the whopperflower with its massive body. But no. It kept chasing after you two while spewing fire balls.

A weird sensation pooled in your chest.

This was what you were looking for – excitement, adrenaline rush that made one’s blood pump wildly in their veins. Finally, your wishes were met. You found the challenge and adventure you craved.

Your fingers laced with Bennett’s as you ran down hill. For the first time since the start of your journey you felt alive. At last, your incredible luck wasn’t in the way. All thanks to the unlucky boy whom you currently clung to.

Then… a rock.

With a loud yelp, both of you suddenly tumbled down the hill, rolling against the grass and gravel. It ripped the delicate fabric of your clothes, as well as left multiple scratches on your virgin skin.

It hurt. The dirt caused a nasty sting in the fresh wounds. Your arms and legs looked red, as though wild cats mistook your limbs for a scratching post.

Bennett was the first one to jump to his feet, guilt and panic dominated his features. “A-are you okay?! Gosh, I’m so sorry! It was all my fault… Let’s get you to the healer now, and-” his endless rambling was rudely interrupted by your heartfelt laughter. The sound so melodical as the wind carried it further into the world.

You giggled as you examined yourself, feeling elated; feeling like a human. You could get used to this feeling. Suddenly, the hopes you had already killed with your two hands revived right before your eyes, manifesting into the image of Bennett.

The unexpected movement startled the boy when you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He felt utterly dumbfounded. Bennett already came to a depressing conclusion that after an experience like this you were sure to leave him for good just like the rest of his teammates.

Yet, you did nothing of sort. Your behavior confused him, and he was contemplating on who was the weird one out of you two.

His own arms came to awkwardly pat your back, frown etched into his eyebrows.

Then, you pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. Your face was close. Very close. Your lips flew to leave a chaste but firm kiss on his cheek before you grinned up at him. “So, partner, where are we going next?”

Bennett flushed a deep red. His hands twitched against your back. The rational part of his brain screamed at him that it was a horrible idea. That eventually, his bad luck would chase you away from him. However, when you smiled so sweetly at him, so expectantly, Bennett couldn’t help but bashfully nod, flashing a toothy grin of his own.

The way your hands gently roamed his skin, exploring all the spots that made him moan in pleasure. Your bodies fit snuggly like missing puzzle pieces. Oh, how they moved in sync, tongues tangled in a sinful dance.

A small blush made its way onto Steve’s face. His hand rose to scratch the itchy spot on his chest, yet his eyes were still trained on the ceiling. His heart pounded nervously in his chest, a familiar feeling blooming inside him.

Could you be… the one?

Ever since Nancy Wheeler broke his heart back in high school days, Steve thought that no woman could ever repair it. No casual fling worked, so he threw himself into work, finding himself. 

Then, Steve met you. The memory was still fresh, engraved in his mind as though it had happened yesterday. You showed up at his workplace, looking bright and radiant. Your voice was gentle and calm as you asked for a movie recommendation. He couldn’t tear his gaze off you.

In just a few weeks, he fell for you hard and hopelessly. Despite his inner fear and insecurities, he asked you out. And to his surprise, you said yes.

A couple of dates later, you had your first time, and it was incredible.

Steve stretched his hand to feel for your body on the other side of the bed. However, when his palm landed outwards, you were gone, the cold sheets forcing him out of his magical fantasy.

He whipped his head to the side as though to confirm with his eyes that yes, you had already left. His heart skipped a beat, clenching painfully at the negative thoughts that threatened to invade his mind. Abruptly, Steve sat up on the bed, the soft sheet pooling at his waist. His eyes scanned the room—his painfully grey and sterile room—confirming his fear. Your purse and clothes were gone.

Once again, Steve was alone in the big penthouse. Suddenly, his brain was fuzzy, fighting to remain positive, but the flood had opened, and every insecurity came pouring out.

“You’re good for nothing,” his mother once said to him.

Was it true, though?

Steve slowly began to believe it.

Now, the day was ruined, tainted by you leaving him after a passionate night.

Still, it was alright. Even though it hurt terribly to be used like this, perhaps you had your reasons. And even if he hated it, he could understand it.

Eventually, Steve rose from the bed with a sigh. He snatched his sweatpants out of his drawer, not even bothering with boxers. The growling in his stomach prompted him to come down into the kitchen for breakfast. Although what exactly was he gonna eat? Nothing was ever homey in his parents’ house.

His bare feet padded against the staircase as he descended to the first floor. His fingers brushed through his mane in frustration, trying his best not to tear up.

It sucked. At this point, it felt as though the man longing for love was never meant to find it, and he hated it.

Perhaps, his call was being the babysitter to his little circle of teenage friends, looking out for them, watching them grow into young adults. Still, Steve was desperate for love and family. Apparently, not now or ever.

When Steve stepped down, he finally realized something. A very pleasant smell wafted out of the kitchen. Something savory. Pancakes? 

He took another cautious step and heard the sizzling of the pan. 

Another step. Suddenly, relief washed over him, and he released a shuddering breath. Your sweet voice—one he never dared to hope to hear again—humming absentmindedly some tune to the radio reached his ears.

Then, Steve peeked inside. His lips immediately melted into a happy grin when he saw you. Your body swayed from side to side to the rhythm of the music. You stood barefoot against the counter, cutting strawberries into slices. Where did you get the strawberries? And… were you wearing his shirt with nothing but panties underneath?

Suddenly, Steve felt a warm and fuzzy feeling replace the melancholy in his heart. You were here. In his kitchen, making breakfast. Your presence created such a homey atmosphere, he couldn’t help but melt inside.

Steve stepped into the kitchen and was about to hug you from behind when you promptly turned around.

You thought Steve was still asleep and would be by the time you’d bring in breakfast in bed. So seeing him, tall, topless, grinning like an idiot, scared the soul out of you. 

Piercing scream tore through your chest, eyes wide and maniacal. Your fingers instinctively tightened around the knife handle, getting ready to swing at the intruder. 

Steve, obviously, scared shitless, jumped backwards, hands thrown into the air. “It’s me!”

“Steve?” You breathed out a sigh of relief, placing a hand on your chest to calm down your racing heart. You put the knife back on the cutting board. “Fucking hell, what is wrong with you, Harrington? I almost stabbed you!”

“S-sorry?” Steve uttered, yet his face graced a dopey smile. Your face looked just as gorgeous. Then his eyes fell on the plate filled with pancakes. “Uhh… Where did you get the ingredients?” He asked, recalling his empty fridge.

“Oh!” You chirped adorably and turned around to finish cutting the strawberries. “I took a trip to the nearest store, your kitchen was painfully empty.”

Steve chuckled, mentally agreeing with you. 

“So I bought flour, yeast, milk, eggs, and also some strawberries for decoration,” you continued rambling, completely unaware that Steve had just fallen for you even harder. “Also, I threw my dress into the washing machine, I accidentally spilled some milk, and I didn’t want to walk around smelling like cottage cheese.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Steve said, still grinning.

Eventually, Steve approached you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You fit in his embrace like a glove, your body warmth warming him up, and your scent enveloping him snuggly.

“Patience, handsome,” you giggled, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “I still haven’t finished.”

“I am patient,” Steve mumbled into your hair, inhaling the fragrance of your shampoo.

“Yeah?” You asked, your tone teasing and playful. You turned to face him, your arms sneaking around his neck. Slowly, you tiptoed to softly nip at his lower lip. “Are you patient enough for this?”

Steve grinned down at you, feeling his heart beat faster. You weren’t aware of his inner turmoil, staring up at him obliviously. Nevertheless, he felt happy. For the first time, it felt as though his dreams of having a big and joyous family didn’t seem like an illusion.

The party was wild. The CD played the summer hits as music blasted through the loudspeakers. The only source of light came from the smoke machine that drowned the room in a smoky, colorful madness. Some people danced on the makeshift dance floor, drinks in hand, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic, while others occupied the couch with their full attention on the board game laid out on the coffee table.

It wasn’t supposed to be a party. At least you never expected it to be when your friend Robin dragged you out of your house that evening to celebrate your birthday. Nothing big or too fancy, as she put it. However, her definition of ‘nothing too fancy’ was renting a tiny but cozy cottage house, not too far away from Hawkins. She invited all your friends who greeted you with your favorite flowers, helium balloons in a heart shape, and party horns that nearly busted your eardrums.

To say you melted would be an understatement.

Slowly but surely, the music started, the games were out, and the ‘small and non-fancy’ party began accelerating.

You stumbled into the kitchen, holding an empty cup that you quickly filled up with punch. Eleven and Max sat at the table with cups of grape juice and buzzed each other’s ears off. A dopey grin formed on your lips, cue the consumed alcohol. You waved at them as you approached them in a few quick strides.

“What’s new, girls?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink.

“Eleven saw some odd fashion magazine, and we’re trying to determine whether the outfits are ridiculous or atrocious,” Max replied with a chuckle. She pushed the above-mentioned magazine toward you, and there it was – the most absurd abomination of fabrics and accessories you had ever seen. You weren’t sure if such a thing was allowed to be called ‘clothes’.

You laughed, louder than you intended. The alcohol in your system crumbled every limit. Raw and unfiltered sound flowed out of your mouth, so genuine it was contagious, making two other girls burst out laughing too. The drink in your hand almost made its grand escape before a soft hand wrapped around your wrist, balancing you.

You slowly turned only to see your boyfriend, Steve. Gentle light danced on his face as he smiled softly at you. You grinned in response, leaning into his embrace. You nuzzled into his neck as you inhaled his familiar scent. A sense of home washed over you instantly.

“Whatcha girls laughing about?” He asked curiously as his arm went to wrap around your shoulder, thumb drawing small patterns on the exposed skin.

“Look at that,” you giggled and held up the magazine closer to his face. “Just how high a person must be to come up with something like this?”

“Are you sure it’s wearable? Looks to me like a fever dream,” Steve snorted and kissed your hair.

“Ew, jeez, get a room,” Max drawled, while Eleven made faux vomiting sounds—tongue rolling out, one palm over her eyes while the other rested on her neck. You shook your head, but honestly, their reactions made you want to snuggle your boyfriend even closer, crawl under his skin, and fuse into one powerful being. “So corny,” Max added as she rolled her eyes.

The celebration continued in this manner, with people having fun in the best way they could think of. Gradually, more and more people began dozing off, even while standing. Eddie sprawled on the couch, snoring loudly while Dustin and Robin tried to settle him more compactly to make more space for others. Mike, Will, and Lucas leaned tiredly against the wall, watching the whole ordeal unfold. Max and Eleven excused themselves to occupy one of the spare rooms, instantly claiming it to be a ‘girls only abode’.

Finally, Steve led the very much inebriated you towards the main bedroom. He had one of his arms wrapped around your waist, and the other hand held yours firmly. You babbled about the recent gossip about your annoying coworkers, though, perhaps mixed with a bit too much fiction to sound realistic. Still, he nodded along, smiling to himself.

The bedroom finally swung open, and Steve sat you down on the soft covers. He kissed your forehead when you peered up at him curiously, and then grabbed his bag to pull out the makeup remover he had grabbed previously from your nightstand.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, princess,” Steve murmured to prevent the headache.

He soaked the cotton pad in liquid before he pressed it against your skin. He dragged the pad over your eyes, making you giggle at the sensation.

A warm feeling bloomed in your chest at the doting behavior of your man. Despite his fondness for alcohol, he stayed perfectly sober so that you could have a good time. And now, he took his time to pamper and care for you.

His left hand held your cheek, guiding your face in all directions to get rid of every bit of foundation. And once he was done, Steve kissed your nose with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ before pulling away.

“You’re like a mother,” you commented as your body shook with the power of your giggles.

“So, should I start calling you baby?” Steve quirked an eyebrow and chuckled when you cringed, your nose scrunching adorably like that of a bunny. Then, his hands gripped your blouse, tugging it upwards. “Alright, baby, let’s get you changed.”

“Wow, Harrington, trying to get me naked?” You wiggled your eyebrows as you sat on the bed, clad in nothing but a black bra and a skirt.

“Baby,” Steve breathed out. He leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet and tender kiss, one hand coming to grip your exposed waist. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you chased the sensation of his plush lips. You sighed contentedly. However, before things could escalate, Steve pulled away just enough for you to feel his hot breath still grazing your cheeks. “As much as I’d love to ravage this perfect body of yours, I want you to be conscious and sober for it.”

“Boo,” you drawled with a pout. You were about to complain when your vision began spinning, and you fell backwards, bouncing lightly against the soft mattress. “Okay, fine. Sleep it is…”

“You didn’t have a choice in the first place, princess,” Steve snorted, hands on his hips, truly like a mother. “Now, come here, you minx, let’s get you comfortable.”

You allowed Steve to unclasp your bra and tug down your skirt, leaving you nearly bare and exposed. Even in your intoxicated state, you were amazed by the steel resolve of your boyfriend. His deep love and respect were palpable in every caress against your naked skin. Despite your breasts being on display, his eyes never left your face as he planted yet another sweet kiss on your lips.

And just as you raised your arms to wrap them around his neck, Steve pulled away, tugging you with him. You yelped, at first, at the sudden movement, and then at the darkness that was caused by your pajama t-shirt.

“All done. Now, scooch over,” Steve said. He quickly changed into his spare clothes and climbed onto the bed.

“Yessir,” you slurred, suddenly feeling sleepy. You rolled closer to the wall, allowing Steve to crawl under the covers and wrap you in his secure embrace.

Familiar warmth engulfed you, and you sighed. You buried your face into his neck, breathing in his scent.

“You smell like home…” You mumbled, already dozing off at a record speed.

“Really? I’m glad,” Steve whispered back, kissing the top of your head. His fingers gently threaded your hair, lulling you to sleep. “Happy birthday, again. I love you.”

Your eyes are blurry, barely able to catch the shape of the forest around you. Your lungs tighten with each move as you try to avoid inhaling the nasty smoke. Flames tickle your skin, and it would definitely burn you, leaving an array of nasty scars had it not been for a protective layer you cast upon yourself and your party. Your ears are filled with the sounds of a fierce fight in the dead of the night. Your muscles scream for a break after a continuous battle against the firebreathing salamander you never even agreed on. This is too much for a mere human like you.

In front of you is your teammate – orc Garon. He towers over you at a solid 7 feet. His giant form is a shield between the other smaller lizards and you. The steel poleaxe in his hands swings faster than your eyes can follow, but you cannot rest.

Your hands are raised, and your form is glowing as mana flows out of your body to follow your command – to protect your teammates. 

In the midst of chaos, you hear Leo, your leader, scream your name. Your eyes travel to his form—his sword raised in a protective stance as he pants hard—and you notice a bleeding gash on his shoulder. Your hands tremble, but you raise them anyway to heal a fresh cut. Soft green light emits from the tips of your fingers and travels all the way to Leo, and within a few seconds, the wound closes, leaving behind only a shredded piece of armor.

You’re shaking. Is it exhaustion after fighting for so long? Frustration at the sheer strength of the enemy? Or fury at your teammates who decided to bite off more than they could chew? You don’t know at this point.

However, on the other hand, you understand the reason behind it. All other adventures above the required level were scattered throughout on their respective missions. All but your party. And if the salamander isn’t defeated, it will simply burn all farms and crops, singlehandedly causing famish upon the entire city.

Still, as your knees buckle underneath you, you can’t help but internally curse your friends for dragging you out here.

“Cat! Heal!” Hareene, the elf, calls out for you. Her eyes are still trained on the salamander as she charges at its vitals with the sharp of her spear.

You ignore the nickname, focusing on your task of healing her burnt side until the skin looks as dainty as possible for an elf.

You breathe deeply to calm down your racing heart. The fiery scenery swims in your eyes. You try to blink away the black spots, but it only makes it worse. When you hear Garon call your name, you’re ready to fall dead from exhaustion.

“Just hold on a bit longer,” his own voice is breathless and rigid, yet the determination and a quiet promise of a reprise give you just a sliver of strength to stand firm.

‘Just a bit more…’ you think—hope—anxiously to yourself.

“Caaat!!!” You hear Saeka’s, the fairy mage, almost weeping voice somewhere above your head. You look up and see the flap of her sparkling wings carry her through the sky. She waves at you until you notice her bleeding ankle—an attack she barely managed to dodge. Reluctantly, you heal it too.

A tired sigh leaves your lips. Your mana is depleting much faster than you anticipated, especially having to sustain the fire-protecting barrier on 5 people, and the monster is way too stubborn to die. You don’t know just how much longer of this fight you can handle.

But then…

You hear it first. A pained cry of the salamander, loud enough to be heard all the way back in the city. The sound is so excruciating, that one might question the humanity of your actions.

Then, you see it. Peeking from behind Garon, you stare at Leo’s sword digging into the monster’s chest. Hareen managed to nail one of its paws to the ground with her spear. Meanwhile, Saeka continuously conjures ice spikes, dropping them all over the salamander’s spine.

‘This is it,’ you think.

‘Finally, it’s over,’ you pray.

Gathering the last bit of your might, you direct your mana to your teammates. Despite your muscles breaking, on the brink of consciousness, you concentrate on pronouncing—hopefully—the last spell in your head. Soon, a soft glow embraces their figures once again, and suddenly their strength is immaculate.

With a fierce cry, Leo drives the sword all the way through the scaled body and up to the head, finally killing the creature. Sparks fly from its fire glands before gradually diffusing into smoke.  Then, the salamander falls to the ground with a thunderous thud. At the same time, Saeka uses her magic to summon water, at last, putting out the fire.

You stare at its body for a short moment, heart pounding wildly in your chest, before releasing a shuddering breath. There’s a loud ringing in your ear. The stress of the situation finally begins wearing off, and your legs give out underneath you.

You plop down onto the grass, eyes closing while groaning as your muscles cry of relief. It has been a while since the last time a battle wore you down this much. You feel utterly spent and exhausted.

“Don’t relax just yet, Cat,” Saeka murmurs in your ear in that honey-sweet voice of hers. You force your eyes to open, and you find her crouched beside you, her long hair tickling the side of your face, and her wings down, resembling a cape. “We still gotta report the completed quest.”

“What’s gotten you so tired anyway, it’s not like we took much damage,” Hareene remarks when she and Leo join the rest of the team, he carries the salamander’s head as well. Her tone sounds annoyed. However, it could be because of the new set of armor she purchased for a big sum of money that was now in rather pitiful condition. “That cheapskate promised a high quality…”

You ignore her comment, too tired to argue with her.

“I guess I’m not gonna tell you I told you so,” Leo rolled his eyes which inevitably traveled to his own broken armor. He sighed in defeat but quickly recovered when another command fell from his lips. “Alright, warriors, let’s return!”

You want to protest, silently begging for another 5 minutes or days of rest. But the thought of a hot bath and a soft bed makes you almost whine. Thus, you push yourself off the ground with a grunt. Your whole body is in pain that you contemplate retirement. However, seeing your friends tired but unscathed, you can’t help but feel relieved and proud. They survived thanks to you.

Every step is painful. Your brain is still fuzzy, fighting desperately for a break, but you push back, hoping to at least reach the city before you allow yourself to fall into slumber. But then, you feel the world shift when you’re lifted into the air by something. Or better say, someone.

Garon hoists you up gently like you’re a delicate flower. He maneuvers you until you lie like a princess in his hold. The warmth of his green skin makes you tingle as a blush creeps up your face. Whether it was his natural temperature or the result of the fight, you aren’t sure, but you’re not complaining either when you finally relax into his embrace.

Garon might not be the most talkative person in the world, but the message in his gestures is perfectly clear.

“Nawwww, look at you two lovebirds~” Saeka teases while she hovers above the both of you.

“Shut up,” Garon’s voice is calm and nonchalant, but you swear you felt his fingers twitch and his skin heating up even more at the implication. You yourself can’t help but blush harder.

“Cat and Garon are sitting on a tree!” Saeka begins singing, swirling in the air. “K-I-S-S-S-S-S-S-I-N-G!”

“I think there’s one too many s’s,” Hareena chuckles despite the confused frown.

“Not if they’re doing it for a long time~” Saeka teases and proceeds to sprinkle you and Garon with fairy dust from her wings.

“Hey, stop that!” Garon growls, pressing you closer to his chest protectively. The action seems almost involuntary, but you notice.

“Ha! Make me!”

Distantly, you hear Saeka cast a spell again. You don’t have time to react—not like you could do much from your current position—when the world spins again, worsening your headache. You feel cold water coat your legs, then the realization dawns on you. Saeka just shot you with a water ball, and Garon was quick enough to turn around, allowing the water to land on his back.

“You menace-!” Garon is about to draw his poleaxe when your whimper of discomfort draws his attention and he resumes the steady pace.

“Lovebirds~”

“Quit fighting there!” Leo’s authoritative bark instantly seized any war that could’ve followed. He jerks his head forward, gesturing at something. “We’re here.”

The city couldn’t be more alive, despite the dead of night. Perhaps they have been startled awake by the deafening roar of the slayed monster. Streets overflow with people—still in their nightwear with a simple cape over it to cover up—who have strolled outside to see for themselves the reason for the commotion. 

Then their eyes land on you and your team – the traces of a fight are prominent on you. You gradually make your way from the main gates, heading toward the Adventures Guild. You can feel the tension rising with every step as the citizens carefully assess you. They’re looking for an appropriate reaction, you’re sure of it.

Then, Leo raises the head of the salamander to showcase that he and his team are the ones who defeated the monster that had been terrorizing the city. Gasps and whispers reach your ears before they morph into raging cries of victory.

Garon walks with you a bit further at the back. You feel a little awkward, weaving through the crowd. You hear people congratulating you, or rather the trio in front of you.

“You are our heroes!”

“Thank you, brave warriors!”

“May the gods bless you for what you’ve done!”

“Thank you for saving us!”

“Are those two also with them?”

Your heart sinks. Your lips purse into a thin line the more you listen to the conversations.

“Is that an orc? What’s an orc doing here?”

“Who in their right mind would invite an orc to their party?”

“Who is that girl he’s carrying?”

“I heard that’s a stray they took in out of pity.”

“No wonder she’s so beat up, the heroes had to protect her as well.”

You avert your eyes away from the crowd. The whispers, murmurs, and rumors are quiet, but you’re able to make them out very well. Their words sting, but they are not that far from the truth. You’re not a fighter; you never have been. Physically you’re weak, and the healing powers are all you’ve got. They are a gift from a deity, and it has always been enough for you. However, the longer your adventure goes on, the worse the self-doubt settles. 

‘Am I dragging them down?’ You think to yourself, fighting the tears that are threatening to fall.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Garon suddenly whispers into your ear. His usually gruff voice is soft and velvety but never lacking the resolve that he always carries. You look up only to find him staring straight into your soul. His eyes sparkle in the moonlight as they bore into yours as though silently pleading with you to believe him. “They can think whatever they want about you. Your opinion of yourself is the one that matters.”

You can’t help the blush creeping up your face. You bury your nose into his neck, inhaling the scent of musk and burnt wood. But despite the embarrassment, you ponder his words carefully. But as you think, more questions pop into your mind.

“But…” you start, hesitantly at first, but seeing his gentle face, waiting for you to continue, you find your voice. “Doesn’t it bother you though? We do just as much work, but they get all the glory?”

“Glory and fame don’t interest me,” Garon replies casually. “Besides, humans never truly liked orcs,” he adds coldly. He might’ve sounded nonchalant, but you felt the way his fingers clenched. “So, no matter how many achievements I accomplish, they’ll always see me as a monster, so I just ignore them.”

Your heart aches for him, but at the same time, you feel just a tad bit closer to him. The thought makes you smile, and quite bold when you raise your hand to cup his cheek. The movement is so tender, that Garon stops in his tracks to look at you once again. Suddenly, the victory, the people, and their nasty comments are but a blur.

“I don’t see you as a monster,” you softly murmur in his ear, and you swear you feel him shiver.

However, the intimate moment is ruthlessly interrupted by Saeka, who begins dusting you with sparkles off her wings again, making both you and Garon sigh in annoyance.

“Cuuuuuute~!” The fairy squeals, kicking her feet in the air, and the crowd laughs. You bury your face into Garon’s neck again to hide from prying eyes. “Come on, lovebirds, we got a room at the inn down the road. It has a hot spring!”

*~*~*

You groan groggily when you feel someone shake you awake. Your eyes are closed, but you don’t have to guess who exactly is the impatient one to rouse you at the crack of dawn. You shoo off Saeka’s hands and turn away from her, hoping to catch every last bit of sleep you can. You’re still tired after the fight last night.

“Caaaaat,” Saeka drawls as she climbs to lie on top of you, plopping down with all her weight. You huff and try to pry her off you; despite her dainty build, she’s not as light as people tend to believe. “Come ooon, we got a new mission!”

At that, your eyelids fly open. Your head slowly turns to stare at the girl on top of you. Your eyebrows join together in a frown as the meaning of her words finally sinks in. Suddenly, you’re wide awake and protesting, wiggling out from underneath the blanket. You jump onto the wooden floor and back away till your back hits the wall. “What?” You ask, just to make sure you didn’t mishear her.

“What?” Saeka sits up at the foot of your bed and tilts her head to the side, innocently. “Leo picked up another mission this morning. We’re heading out soon! So you better get ready.”

‘No, I did hear it right…’ you think to yourself, eyes going wide in a panic. “But we just completed a commission yesterday!” You exclaimed, tiredly rubbing your face.

“Well, Leo thought that we could use extra money,” Hareen said as she walked into the room, Leo and Garon strolling behind her.

“Besides, it’s a good practice. After all, the salamander yesterday was a bit challenging, so we have to get stronger,” Leo added with a shrug.

“I just don’t get what you’re complaining about, your job is the easiest,” Hareen crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. Her glare was cold, challenging. You wince at her words. 

“Yeah, Cat, I think it’ll be good for you, too,” Leo says with a smile, but his words are nothing short of discouraging.

“Maybe, before we make any decision, we should ask her what she thinks about it,” Garon’s voice is rough and seizing like he’s holding back his anger, which he totally is.

“Oh, come on,” Saeka whines as she jumps off the bed to stand by your side. Her wings nudge your shoulder, teasingly. “She’ll agree, right? She’s Cat! Cats are flexible!”

There it was again. Your nickname. Her snicker makes your stomach churn. The stigma that makes you want to crawl under a bridge like a true cat. Saeka’s words pop into your head, ‘Scaredy cat… Fast and agile, but weak and not as useful compared to other animals, but cats are adorable!’  Ever since she dropped that line, you’ve been nothing but Cat – unable to even fight.

So, as you stand in the room, all eyes turned at you, expectantly, pressing. Your breath hitches. Your teeth cage your lower lip, grazing over the soft flesh over and over again. The weight of the request pushes you down, and you’re not sure you have it in you to refuse. Your eyes trail over your friends’ faces, unsure and slightly panicked. Your mana still hasn’t fully recovered, so going against another monster so soon is a risk. At the same time, though, you think that maybe things will be fine, and your party won’t need your skills at all. They are experienced warriors, after all.

After what felt like an eternity, you let out a defeated sigh and nod, praying that the monster would be kind enough to let you all go with nothing but a scratch.

However, as you stare at the giant serpent, partially sticking out of the water, you feel your legs give out, and you fall flat on your butt. The wet rocks scratch the skin on the back of your thighs, but your mind barely registers the pain. All your attention is on your friends, fighting and losing what was supposed to be an easy job.

“The commission says that in the cave by the mountains lives a horde of goblins. We have to either chase them away or kill them,” Leo read out the request banner as they entered the cave.

“Goblins? That’s an easy one. You could’ve stayed at the inn, Cat,” Hareene mused, and you rolled your eyes at her. Yet, you couldn’t rid yourself of that gnawing feeling that something seemed off. Your intuition screamed at you to turn around and leave, before it was too late.

“The cave is deep, might even be a labyrinth at some point. Watch out, everyone.”

Goblins are niche monsters. They’re dumb and reckless. They lack any sort of intelligence whatsoever, with their only thought and driving force being sustenance and chaos. Goblins are only strong in numbers, but even a regular citizen can deal with them if they’re dedicated enough. It was supposed to be quick and easy.

When did it even go wrong? When you strayed too deep into the cave, stepping somewhere you shouldn’t have? Or when the commissioner failed to mention the ginormous serpent residing in underground waters that you successfully disturbed? One second, you were admiring the still waters, the second one, a blue-scaled monster burst above the surface. It doesn’t matter anymore.

Tears well up in your eyes, and your body locks in fear, refusing so much as to even blink. You can’t breathe or think properly. All you know is panic and your brain screaming at you to get the hell out of there. You want to. You desperately want to run for your life, but, realistically, how far would you even make it on shaking legs?

You see Leo and Hareen, fighting with all their might, but their efforts don’t even land a scratch on the monster. Saeka tries to conjure up a fire blast, but you notice the way her hands tremble in terror. Her eyes are wide, and her dress is torn and dirty after taking a powerful hit from the monster’s tail that smashed her into the cave wall. You are screwed.

The serpent releases a roar. The sound is so abhorrent and loud, you’re forced to close your ears to not go deaf. It lunges forward, aiming to catch Leo in its wide jaws. Its fangs—dripping with poison—sparkle, even in the dim lights of the cave. Hareene, thanks to her quick reflexes, redirects the attack by throwing her spear into the serpent’s eye. But the creature is faster. It manages to evade the sharp object, and the spear ricochets off the wall and falls into the waters. You are so screwed.

“RUN!!!” You hear Leo’s desperate voice. You see him charging toward the exit, dragging Hareene by her wrist. You want to follow the command, you really do, but your body still refuses to listen.

“Cat! Hurry!” Saeka cries out to you as she lurges past you after your leaders.

Finally, you feel blood rushing through your veins. You scramble to your feet like a toddler who still learns how to walk. You have no idea where you’re going, but anywhere will be safer than here. Your feet are numb, and you’re scared you’ll fall again. But then you make the mistake of looking back. You see the serpent’s eyes—red and shiny like rubies—lock on your form. Its cold stare makes your movements halt. And as you stand there, you think to yourself, ‘I can’t…’ suddenly realizing that this is how you’ll meet your end.

The serpent rushes to close the distance, the sharp fangs are seconds away from piercing you when Garon jumps at the monster with a roar of his own. You see him trying to tackle it, his poleaxe manages to graze its tongue, and, as the serpent cries of pain, wiggling and thrashing, it gives Garon enough time to hoist you up and break for the exit.

The ground shakes at the creature’s anger. Its deafening scream is the only thing you hear besides the thumping of your heart. You squeeze your eyes shut when the debris starts falling. Your hands fist Garon’s shirt, crying and praying to come back to safety. Just then, stalactites begin falling as well, and to your horror, the floor shatters under its weight, taking you both with it into the abyss.

When you open your eyes again, you’re outside, lying underneath a tree. The sun had long descended, ridding you of the comforting warmth you longed for. Your muscles hurt as you move, and your brain is foggy, but you will it to reconstruct the chain of events. The cave… The commission… Goblins…. The serpent… Suddenly, Garon’s face flashes before your eyes, and you sit up abruptly only to groan in pain when a pounding headache makes your eyes black out.

“Whoa, careful,” Garon’s voice is soft and quiet. He abandons the task of skinning a rabbit and approaches you in quick strides. His hand is warm when it palms your cheek. “Relax, you’re safe.”

“Where are we? What happened? Where are the others?” You ask, still disoriented, but alleviated to see your friend alive and safe.

“Not sure. I never caught up to them when the floor crashed. We fell into a river, and it spewed us here,” he explains calmly, and you sigh in exhaustion. 

You ponder his words and feel a stinging pain in your chest. Tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, both out of relief and regret. Your gaze drops to your lap, and you begin sobbing. “I never should’ve agreed to this!” You cry as a feeling of guilt overtakes your senses.

Garon looks at you in disbelief. Are you seriously blaming yourself for something, not even Leo, a former soldier, could’ve predicted?

“Hey, none of that. It’s no one’s fault, okay?” Garon says urgently. His hands cup your face to ensure you look him straight in the eyes.

“But…”

“No buts,” he interrupts you, a frown prominent on his battle-hardened face. “It could’ve happened to anybody, but you’re alive, and that’s the main thing.”

His words make your heart soft. Your lip wobbles before another array of sobs break out from your chest.

The sight of you crying tears him from the inside, and he doesn’t even think twice before capturing you in his embrace. His muscular arms wrap around your frame, pulling you closer until there’s not an inch of space between you. His large palm softly caresses your lower back, hoping that the motion will soothe you.

Your tears only intensify, feeling so many different emotions clash inside you. For minutes, or hours, you weep non-stop until you’re no longer able to, and your loud wails are reduced to quiet hiccups. Garon holds you firmly the whole time, gently cooing in your ear. His voice, his warmth, and his scent seem to work wonders in grounding you as you descend the mountain of your emotional breakdown.

“I boiled some water if you’d like to freshen up while I prepare us food,” Garon murmured. Only then did you notice a campfire, softly crackling in the background; it’s most likely the reason as to why your clothes are mostly dry. You stare weakly at the dancing flames before you nod.

You fight to suppress a whine when Garon pulls away from you. Luckily, he doesn’t stray too far, just far enough to grab a piece of cloth that he actually crafter out of his torn-up t-shirt. It wasn’t visible in the dim flickering light of the campfire, but you just now notice that he’s shirtless. He placed a pot—one that he made out of the piece of chestplate he found—of hot water and a tiny log for a stool by the river, making up a camp shower.

He beckons you, handing you the cloth, and suddenly you feel bashful. It was the first time being in his company alone. Tears washed away most of your worries, making space for more ordinary contemplation. One of which is being one-on-one with your crush. You look at the hot water, your face heats up at the mere thought of having to undress in his presence.

“Thank you…” You murmur shyly. You sit on the smoothly carved log before turning to face the orc once again. “Uhmm… A little privacy, please?”

Garon never even realized he was ogling, his eyes tracing your soft features while he could. He clears his throat to wave off the embarrassment and walks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, take your time. I’m gonna make dinner.”

You nod and tug your shirt off in one swift motion.

After you washed off most of the dirt and algae, you felt like a human again. A deep sigh falls off your lips as you sit on the grass, the smell of roasted rabbit is filling your nostrils. The rumbling in your stomach angrily reminds you that you haven’t had any proper meal ever since leaving the inn this morning. You silently observe the way Garon slowly turns the meat until it’s crispy.

The taste is worse than you anticipated. It’s expected, though, given your lack of any proper seasonings or vegetables, but it’s enough to satiate your hunger. 

 “Do you think they got out safe?” You ask as you toss a stick Garon used to prepare the meat into the fire.

“I’d say yes,” Garon replies casually. However, you feel like his tone is void of any sympathy for your friends. “They’re capable warriors, they can handle themselves.”

“So what do we do now?” 

“My suggestion would be to head to another city, relocate completely, and see from there,” he says, chewing on the last piece.

“Are we not going to search for them?” You question with your eyebrow raised. You assumed that reuniting with your party mates would be a priority.

Garon snorts, but the sound lacks any trace of amusement. “Is that what you want?”

“Well, they could be hurt, stranded somewhere just like us, and-” you start rambling but are quickly interrupted by your comrade.

“I’m not asking what they need,” the firmness of his tone makes you pause. The weight of his words is not completely foreign to you, but abnormal enough to really stop and listen. “What I’m asking you is if you really want to come back to them after everything they dragged you through?”

The realization hits like ice-cold water. You recall every Hareene’s snide comment, the way she would diminish you, and your inability to fight unlike all of them. Saeka’s sickeningly sweet voice calling you that degrading nickname she felt so proud for coming up with rings in your ears like a curse. You remember Leo, the leader, the wisest of them all, who would dismiss your every concern and suggestion. No matter how infuriating you felt, you learned to push down those feelings for the sake of your friends. But, realistically, are they your friends?

‘No…’

You shake your head, stating your answer. You don’t want to go back to how things were. You are fed up with constant danger, and being in the company of people who wouldn’t bat an eye before dragging you down. There might be some truth to it, but a ‘thank you’ would be appreciated. 

Your eyes lock, and for a moment neither of you says anything, just contemplating the moment of sudden closeness. You see the corners of Garon’s lips tug upwards in a proud grin. You see something in his eyes you’ve seen multiple times – adoration.

You’re the first to break eye contact, growing shy again under the intensity of his gaze. But the way he looked at you, you can’t help but wonder if there might be something more than he lets on.

“We should head to sleep. We need rest,” he said after a while.

Sleeping on the cold ground may have not been ideal, but you have little room when you… actually have little room, tangled together like matching pieces with Garon. Your face is on his chest, so close you hear his steady heartbeat. One of his heavy arms is wrapped around your waist, while the other rests on your back, caging you in a protective embrace.

You don’t even know how that happened, for you two fell asleep a respectful distance away from each other. Was it your wishful thinking, or your unconsciousness trying to get closer to the natural source of comfort and warmth? Or perhaps Garon, even in his sleep, wanted to keep you safe and sound? You can only wonder.

You twist your head to see his face. You drink in his features, rough and scarred. His eyebrows are relaxed, the first time you witness it. 

It has been almost a year since you’ve met. You remember it as clearly as though it happened yesterday – Garon, exhausted and injured, sitting by the tree, similar to the one that is your abode right now. You approached him in quick strides, ignoring the scowl of disdain and clear disapproval on his part. You healed his wounds and patched his clothes to the best of your abilities while offering the kindest smile he’d ever seen. That moment solidified your bond. Garon, previously feared for his skills and hated for his upbringing, became your shield, your silent protector. A smile stretches on your lips at the nostalgia.

“You’re staring,” Garon mumbles with his eyes still closed. You don’t even question how he knew, you just accept it.

“Just admiring you,” you whisper, afraid that if you speak louder, you’ll ruin the precious moment between you.

You don’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the newfound freedom or the absence of one annoying fairy teasing you constantly. You feel a surge of longing and confidence, and you lean closer, pressing your lips to his.

Garon stiff beside you, clearly never expecting such a move from you, but the initiative is welcome. Your heart flatters when his palm that once lay on your waist cradles your face to deepen the kiss. It’s a bit awkward working around the tusks, but his lips are soft and warm. You practically melt, wishing you could simply merge bodies together in one piece.

A barely audible whine leaves your lips when he pulls away, but his hand still holds your cheek tenderly.

“What was that about?” He asks quietly, hopeful. His breath is hot against your red lips.

“Just…” you start, bashful, your confidence is long gone, and you grow shy once again. You squirm lightly in his hold, but it just causes you to tangle more. “Just wanted to kiss you, that’s all.”

Garon hums in acknowledgment. His eyes linger on your face, searching for any trace, any little hint of hesitation or regret. However, all he sees is the shine of certainty, and the steady warmth of your gaze, brimming with affection. Relief flickers across his features, gentle and real. He leans in again, slowly, giving you the chance to pull away. You don’t, though, instead closing the distance yet again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you almost feel like crying at the softness of the moment.

You skip along the road, humming a random song you once heard at some pub. Your mood is alleviated after the fond morning you shared with Garon. You replay the scene of your kiss in your head over and over again. Your heart sings with affection and love that the events of the previous day are nothing but a dull memory.

Garon walks beside you, his lips are pursed in embarrassment. Can orcs blush? You’re not sure, but if they can, he’s doing it now, considering that the green of his face is a few shades darker. It’s oddly endearing, this rare crack in his usually impenetrable demeanor.

There’s a quiet between you, not awkward, but new—tentative. It felt surprisingly freeing, not to have to rely on one selfish demand after another. You find yourself basking in this new dynamic – finally, an adventure where you don’t have to risk your life for a few golden coins.

“SOMEBODY, HELP!!!”

You curse under your breath, less out of annoyance, more out of fear. The flashbacks of the serpent, its red, murderous eyes staring into your soul resurface. Cold sweat forms on your forehead. Your body freezes, not knowing what to do.

Luckily, Garon acts quicker than you. 

Instantly, he bares his weapon and rushes to the source of the voice. His form disappears behind the bushes, and the rustling of the leaves breaks you out of your trance.

‘Someone must be hurt there…’ You think frantically, landing a solid slap on your cheek to gather your thoughts together. Eventually, you rush after the orc. You weave through the woods until you see a carriage, thrown over on its side. Next to it sits a woman, whose shout you heard before. She holds a crying little boy, shielding him with her body against the giant wolves.

Garon stands between the woman with her son and a pack of wolves. Their eyes look crazed as they growl furiously at him. But even wolves know better than to charge erratically at an orc armed with a poleaxe, so they circle them, waiting for a chance to spree.

At that moment, your reflexes kick in. You raise your hand, casting a dexterity spell on your companion. Then, with one swift motion, Garon swings the poleaxe, grazing some of the wolves. Crimson liquid stains their fur and they release a blood-curdling howl before they sprint away. Your spell wafts off, but you immediately cast another one over the woman with her child to treat their wounds.

“Miss, are you okay?” You hurriedly approach to check in with them. You assess the damage, and luckily, thanks to you, they got away with barely a scratch and some torn clothes.

“T…thank you…” The woman mumbles, her voice still trembling with fear and adrenaline. Her hands instantly roam across her son’s body to ensure he is safe, but when she sees clean skin instead of an open wound, she breaks down in tears, hugging her little boy while peppering his face with kisses. “Thank you… Thank you, heroes!”

You look at them for a moment. Your thoughts twirl like a swarm of wild beasts. You hear both of them cry, bawling their eyes out in relief, and you can’t help but feel this tingling sensation blossoming in your chest. It makes you feel warm and content, almost… like you’re happy. 

You turn to look at Garon, and he’s wearing the same expression as yourself – confused but proud.

It’s a weird feeling. You have saved people enough times before, but no one even once ever looked at you like this. You? Heroes? No one has ever called you that. An unknown backup? A someone to pity? Definitely. But a hero? No, that’s first. 

For a moment, you feel—you believe—that you can become a hero as well.

*~*~*

About three months have passed ever since you parted with your party. And to speak quite honestly, you’ve never been happier. You’ve been traveling alongside Garon, just the two of you in perfect harmony. The road stretches long, but with him beside you, it never feels lonely.

Slowly, but surely, you build your reputation across lands as a healer with a holy touch and an undefeatable orc warrior. People begin whispering of your duo in marketplaces and taverns, not as a ballast to an infamous party of adventurers, but as something more genuine – a symbol of hope and power not to be tampered with.

Even now as you stroll through the streets of the city you arrived no long ago, you can’t help a dopey grin when you hear the rumors about you. You pick out the vegetables for dinner when it reaches your ears.

“Is that the healer people talk about?” One man asks the other as he glances backward to look at you.

“I heard she fixed Jonah’s broken collarbone,” he answers, while sipping his morning tea, voice laced with wonder and pride over knowing such private information.

“Do you think she can restore my eyesight too?”

“Man, you’re practically blind, nothing can help that,” his friend snickers. “But go ahead, you can ask her.”

You smile to yourself, preparing for a conversation and possible healing session. You don’t mind, of course, as long as you’re able to bring hope and smiles to people’s faces. However, what you catch, makes your blood run cold. Instead of two gentlemen, you hear her.

“Caaaaat!” Saeka’s honeyed voice rings in your ears, unlocking the memories you’ve tried to push down for the past 3 months. You don’t even have time to properly face her, when her arms wrap around your shoulders from behind, squeezing tightly in a suffocating embrace. “I’ve finally found you?”

“S…saeka?” You stutter through gritted teeth when you finally come to your senses.

“It’s me! Where have you been?? We thought you and Garon died to that serpent!” She whined tearily, hugging you tighter. You’re about to wiggle out of her trap when she spreads her wings and soars into the sky with you in her hold. “Come with me!” Your basket is dropped on the ground, the vegetables scattering around haphazardly. Your screams are the last thing people hear as Saeka flies away, taking with you.

One moment you cry your voice out, the next moment you’re in a tent, your face flushed, and your hair disheveled. But the sight of Leo, pale and weak, lying on a pile of blankets and rolls of bandages sloppily wrapped around his shirtless body. The wound is deep, judging by the fresh blood staining the material.

“Cat?” Hareene sounds surprised when she sees you entering the tent, but her shock quickly morphs into indifference. She gestures to Leo, waving her hand. “Hurry up and heal him.”

You stand there, unmoving. Your brain short-circuits at the sudden turn of events. Your former partymates stare at you expectantly. Once again, you feel like a broken and timid little helper, while others take advantage of you. You’re not sure what would be the best course of action, after all, in your eyes, you never meant to meet them. Yet, here you are.

“Come on, cat, hurry, we’re afraid he doesn’t have much time!” Saeka pleads with you. Her voice is trembling, on the verge of tears.

“How did this even happen?” You question as you approach the bedding.

“Well, after we split, Leo wanted to find other jobs to, you know, get stronger,” the fairy starts. “But he may have gotten a bit reckless, and rhino stabbed him in the stomach.”

“We’ve been searching for you ever since, and then heard rumors about a healer who travels with an orc,” Hareene adds. Her arms were crossed over her chest, giving away her anxiety.

“Pleaseeee!” Saeka drawls, her hands clasped together, begging and crying.

Again, you’re confused. Your body locks in a familiar feeling of terror. But there are a few things you know for sure – you don’t want to help them; you don’t want to join back; constant stress and danger, all depending on you was too much for you, and you dread the possibility of it happening again. 

So you do one logical thing.

You heal Leo. Your hand glows as the energy flows into his body. You carefully weave around the wound, working to close it and force the body to start the restoring process. You see his face redden, and his pulse stabilizing, signaling his recovery. Then, in just a few minutes, he opens his eyes.

“Leo!” Hareene and Saeka wail in unison as they rush to their leader’s side to smother him with tears of relief and affection.

You stare at the pile, your face is drawn with indifference. Offering a curt nod—although you’re not sure any of them is in their right state of mind to pay you any attention—you exit the tent and begin strolling back to the city. Garon is probably worried sick about your absence.

“Cat, wait!” You hear Saeka’s voice call out for you as she catches up to you. Nothing but confusion is written on her face. “Where are you going???”

“Uhm, heading back?” You say the phrase like a question, unsure of the answer she was expecting. 

“But… We have to get going, we have a job waiting to be completed, and-”

“Saeka,” you say firmly, interrupting her. Frankly, you’re not surprised in the slightest at her dismissal. But finally, for the first time during your whole journey, you know what you want. You’ve found your voice and you’re about to fight your way out with it. “I think you misunderstood something. I healed Leo, but I’m not coming with you.”

“What…?” The sorrow in her voice is almost enough to make you backtrack. Almost.

“Garon and I are traveling by ourselves now, and I enjoy it the way it is,” you reply with a fond smile. “So, thank you, for the invitation, but I’m gonna have to decline,” you bowed politely, hoping she would understand, but luck was not on your side.

“What?! No! You can’t!” Saeka practically screams in your face, growing desperate with each second. “Look, I’m sorry we weren’t giving you enough credit, we’ll get better! But I mean, you’re cat! You’re our cat! We travel together! It’s our journey! ”

“Not anymore, Saeka. Goodbye,” you turn around and begin walking away. You can still hear the fairy’s cries and pleas, but you stand firm on your decision. It feels amazing to finally be able to voice your opinion, to fight for what you want. This feeling is elevating. Just one more thing left, you think before turning around to face Saeka once again. “Saeka.”

“Yes?” She looks at you with a look of hope that maybe you changed your mind.

You simply smile at her, before you say, “I’ve always hated that nickname.”

You don’t look back. You ignore the look of utter shock and betrayal as you resume your walking. Your heart pounds in your ribcage with all the adrenaline, but you’ve never felt better. A weight you hadn’t realized you were still carrying lifts with every stride you take away from them.

When you arrive back in the city and find the stall of food you never had the chance to shop at, you see Garon, going from one person to another, frantically asking people if they’ve seen you. Your heart flatters and a warm sensation settles in your stomach. You call out for him with a smile, and, as expected, the orc immediately rushes to your side, swoops you up, and twirls you in a dizzying dance, before his lips find yours in a longing kiss. You giggle into his mouth, feeling as though you’re going to burst any second from happiness.

“Where have you been? I was so worried,” Garon asks once he steadies you back down on your feet.

“Saeka found me,” you say truthfully as you begin walking to the inn you’re currently staying at.

“What? And what happened?”

A frown is etched onto his face as you retell the exact play of events. But when you beam at him, he smiles, lacing your fingers together. The more he listens to your story, the more his body stiffens. He doesn’t like the fact that you’ve been found, but he can’t help but notice the way your steps feel lighter, your voice louder, and your eyes brighter. And as you finish your tale, Garon feels nothing but pride. He presses his lips to your forehead, and you melt at the touch, thinking that everything will be okay from now on.