#amarips

The scent of freshly baked bread wafts in the air as he walks through the flea market with Louter and Myunna.

Myunna perks up at the smell, already eager to drag them toward the source, but Klark barely registers it.

It wasn’t the smell of baked goods that catches him off guard. 

It was your laughter, your voice. 

His breath catches in his throat. His body stiffens before he even realizes why. Then he moves quickly, his head snapping toward the sound, the slight panic visible in his eyes as he looks for the source of that melodic laughter.

And then he sees you.

The owner of a humble baked goods stall, nestled between artisan vendors, smiling so brightly your eyes crinkle at the edges—just like hers.

His feet drags him before he can think.

One moment, he’s walking with Louter and Myunna. The next, he’s standing in front of your stall, frozen in place. You don’t look like Seren. Not at all. But something about you that reminds him of her.

The way you smile, the way laughter spills from your lips so effortlessly, the air around you. All of it reminds him of her.

It’s been months since Seren vanished like stardust in the wind, but standing here now—staring at you—it feels like no time has passed at all. Like she’s right here.

Watching. Smiling. Existing.

And then you turn to him.

“Hi! Would you like to try our baked goods?” you offer, your voice warm, lighthearted.

You don’t seem bothered by the way he’s looking at you like you’re a ghost.

Klark doesn’t respond. Can’t respond. His throat feels tight and his lungs unwilling to cooperate.

Myunna appears at Klark’s side, tugging at his sleeve with concern. “Klark?”

Still, he doesn’t move.

Your smile falters slightly, curiosity flickering in your eyes at his odd reaction. The silence grows heavier, stretching too long.

Sensing the shift, Louter clears his throat and steps forward, offering a polite, easy smile.

“Hello. Could we get three of these, please?” he asks, his voice cutting through the tension in the air.

You brighten again, nodding as you move to prepare their order.

When you finally hand over the pastries, Klark reaches for them absentmindedly. His fingers brush against yours, featherlight.

But in that instant, he swears he stops breathing.

After that first encounter, he finds himself returning to your stall.

It’s not intentional. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

He has no reason to be here but somehow, he always ends up in front of your display, hands in his pockets, staring at the selection with feigned interest.

Whatever he buys, he rarely eats. Instead, Louter and Myunna are the unwitting recipients of his purchases, their reactions a mix of confusion and delight whenever Klark brings them the treats.

And no matter how many times he visits your stall, he still doesn’t have the courage to speak beyond polite exchanges—"What would you like today?"—a question he never really knows how to answer.

But eventually, you notice him.

The quiet, brooding man who always buys something, despite never eating it himself. You start to greet him beyond the usual pleasantries, nudging past the rigid boundaries he sets. 

Small talk. Casual remarks. Meaningless little comments about anything and everything.

At first, he doesn’t know what to do with them.

Then, one day, you laugh. A sound so familiar, so achingly reminiscent of someone he lost, that it knocks the air from his lungs.

It terrifies him.

He tells himself it’s just nostalgia. That he’s simply looking for remnants of her in you, small fragments to fill the empty spaces left behind. Just enough to soothe the regret. Just enough to make the longing bearable. Just enough to satiate the feelings brewing inside.

And Klark finds himself wanting to know more.

He doesn’t notice it at first, but he starts bringing you asters. 

An unconscious habit, mirroring the way Seren used to leave them by his workstation, insisting they brightened up the room.

Maybe, in the back of his mind, some desperate, foolish part of him hopes you’ll recognize them as if you're Seren. That something will shift. That maybe, just maybe, you’ll remember.

But deep down, he knows that’s not possible.

Still he keeps trying. Keeps showing up. Keeps searching for her in you.

Louter notices. Of course he does. He sees not just the longing but also the desperation in Klark’s eyes. But he does nothing to intervene.

After all, the stars have already told him—one can only truly accept reality once they witness the absurdity of their own actions.

And so, Louter lets Klark be. 

The night air is crisp as you and Klark stroll through the peaceful town plaza. The streets glow under the warm lantern lights.

You talk about the stars. About the vastness of the sky. About the endless stretches of the Blue Continent—the world he has sworn to protect.

It’s nostalgic, if not bittersweet. The conversation flows so naturally, yet each word feels like stepping into the past. He’s had this exact conversation before with Seren. The way your voice lilts in curiosity, the way you gaze at the sky with wonder—it all reminds him of her.

And then you speak, your voice softer now, almost wistful.

"Do you ever wonder if we've met in another lifetime?"

Klark stops walking.

The moonlight spills over you, painting you in its glow, your skin luminous like starlight. And for a single, devastating moment, he sees Seren standing before him. Before she faded into dust.

His chest tightens. Then the tears come.

He doesn't even realize he's crying until the warmth streaks down his cheeks, his vision blurring.

And suddenly, everything crashes down at once.

He’s not over her. He never was. And you are not her.

No matter how much he projects Seren onto you, no matter how desperately he’s clung to the past, this isn’t right. This isn’t fair.

Because you are you.

And you—in your own way, in your own existence—are amazing.

Panic flashes across your face as you see Klark unravel before you, tears slipping soundlessly, lips trembling as if he’s moments away from breaking completely.

"Klark," you whisper, stepping forward carefully. "What's wrong?"

Your hand hovers between you, hesitant. He doesn’t move. His eyes squeeze shut as if trying to gather himself but he can’t.

And before he can say anything, you embrace him.

You hold him close, arms wrapping around his tense frame, as if reassuring him that he doesn’t have to carry this alone.

And that does it.

His walls, all carefully built, meticulously reinforced, all comes crumbling down.

The weight of it all, the grief, the longing, the guilt, it crashes over him in full force, and unlike before, he allows himself to feel it this time.

He knows he will never fully forget Seren. How could he? 

She left a mark too deep, too permanent to ever fade. 

She’s in the quiet mornings at the castle. In the silence of his workshop. In the asters in the garden.

And somehow, in you, too.

Klark sees you off.

He knew this day would come. You were never meant to stay.

You are a travelling merchant after all. And yet, it still stings.

But what he doesn’t expect is your parting words.

“I really enjoyed my time here,” you say, smiling at him. “Not just in the kingdom, but with you.”

His breath catches.

You don’t know what those words do to him. How they press into his chest, aching but warm.

But before he can respond, you continue, your gaze lifting to the endless stretch of sky above.

“Maybe we’ll meet again someday. Who knows?” You chuckle softly. “Because no matter how far we are from each other… we’re still bound. Connected. Living under the same sky.”

The same words. The same sentiment. But this time, they come from you.

And this time, it doesn’t break him.

It doesn’t send him spiraling into grief. It doesn’t make him feel like he’s chasing the shadow of something already lost.

Instead, it settles into him like the warmth of the sun.

He looks at you, standing there in the golden morning light, not like stardust slipping through his fingers.

And so, he lets the wind carry his words. His feelings.

“…Thank you,” Klark murmurs. Not for reminding him of Seren. But for being you.

For showing him that he doesn’t have to forget the past to move forward. That letting go isn’t the same as losing.

You give him one last smile before turning away, footsteps steady as you walk toward your next adventure.

Klark doesn’t call you back. He doesn’t stop you.

Some things aren’t meant to stay.

But as he watches you disappear into the horizon, he tilts his head back toward the sky you both share.

And for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t feel so empty.

amarips: hi anon! i wanna say that this is a good ending for klark despite it being bittersweet. it took me a while before i was able to work on this but i hope you like it! anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

despite my full time job in a marketing agency being barely tolerable, my remote jobs keep me afloat. im just trying to catch up to all of the fandoms im in, and there's a lot of things happening!

milgram has been killing me softly, there's fragmem, pararai, vsa, 18trip, bllk and all of the animanga im into, waiting for me to get started again!