The morning greeted Cerza softly, as the sun rose lazily from behind the majestic Onikami mountains, casting a golden hue that danced upon the wooden rooftops and glistened on the dew-drenched trees. The air was rich with the comforting aroma of green tea mingling with the delicate scent of freshly bloomed sakura flowers. Inside the small traditional inn room, an intimate silence enveloped two souls, creating an atmosphere that felt almost sacred.
Rinoa slowly opened her eyes, the warm morning light filtering through the delicate gaps in the washi paper window, creating gentle, shifting patterns that played upon the walls. As she turned over, her heart raced, and she instantly felt the warmth creeping into her cheeks.
Beside her lay Fitran, still lost in peaceful slumber, his face serene and unburdened, tousled hair softly splayed against the immaculate white pillow. The proximity between them felt electric, stirring memories that ignited a blush across Rinoa's skin. It was all too easy to recall the moment that sent her emotions into turmoil—and with that thought, her body heated up like a boiling cauldron.
The kiss.
As the recollection washed over her, Rinoa felt a fierce flush spreading, reaching the tips of her ears. Hesitantly, she covered her face with both hands, her body squirming slightly beneath the inviting warmth of the soft blanket, murmuring softly, "Aaaaahhh... why was I the one to kiss first...! And he even returned it quietly...! That... wasn't a dream, right?"
She glanced at Fitran once more, her heart racing like a drum in her chest. Despite the early hour, the man radiated an aura of calm, a hint of a smile playing on his lips even in slumber, exuding a soothing peace that enveloped the room. Rinoa gently pinched her own cheek, testing the limits of her waking reality, ensuring that this wasn't just a fleeting dream. Her skin felt warm to the touch, her cheeks blushing like perfectly grilled dango, sweet and vibrant. Silence wrapped around her like a fragile cocoon, with only the echo of her own heartbeat punctuating the stillness, altering the air temperature around her and creating a palpable tension that hung in the atmosphere.
As Rinoa's gaze lingered on Fitran's face, an awkward yet exhilarating sensation washed over her, intermingled with the glow of the brightening morning light that filtered softly through the curtains. Each tiny movement from Fitran—his gentle breaths or the subtle smile that flickered momentarily on his lips—etched that moment into her memory, making it unforgettable. "I just... kissed a paladin who can turn reality upside down. This is insane. Insane," she thought as she rolled over, her eyes drifting to the dark, gloomy ceiling momentarily before returning to Fitran, her gaze shimmering with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. "And more insane... I don't regret it."
Suddenly, Fitran's eyelids fluttered open. He blinked slowly, dramatically, as if awakening from a deep, reverent slumber. The soft morning light streaming through the curtains painted gentle shadows across his face, enhancing his features in the tranquil ambiance. When his eyes met Rinoa's, he regarded her with a look that radiated comfort and familiarity.
Rinoa froze in place, her heart now pounding fiercely in her chest, the sound resonating in her ears like a war drum, seemingly replacing the tense silence that cocooned them. "G-Good morning," she stammered, her voice nearly swallowed by the charged atmosphere that enveloped their shared space.
Fitran looked at her with half-open eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips that seemed to lighten the heavy air between them. "Good morning, Rinoa," he said softly, his voice wrapping around her like a warm blanket. He then closed his eyes again, a peaceful smile still lingering, and murmured in a tone barely above a whisper, as if sharing a private joke, "Sweet dreams, huh? About dango... and something sweet."
Rinoa held her breath for a moment, the weight of the silence pressing down on her. Suddenly, she turned away, burying her face in a pillow, her heart racing. "ARGHH! HE REMEMBERS!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled by the soft fabric.
From behind the pillow came her voice, trembling with embarrassment, "Why are you only romantic when you're asleep!?"
Fitran chuckled softly, a warm, teasing lilt to his tone, "If I were too romantic when I wake up, you might forget how to use your magic from nerves."
"Such a cunning paladin..." Rinoa muttered quietly, yet her lips betrayed her annoyance, curving into a small, involuntary smile that she couldn't suppress. It was as if the morning sunlight had seeped into her heart, pushing away the darkness of her embarrassment. The day began with a blush creeping up her cheeks, the warmth of her skin glowing under the delightfully soft rays, inviting an oddly... very human happiness to fill the space between them.
The usually serene morning atmosphere in Cerza took on a hint of awkwardness. In the inn's quaint dining area, Fitran and Rinoa sat facing each other, separated only by a small wooden table lovingly adorned with bowls filled with steaming miso, fluffy rice, vibrant pickles, and a fragrant cup of green tea, its steam curling into the soft morning air. Yet, it wasn't the inviting aroma or the gentle sound of water trickling from the garden outside that held their attention; instead, it was the palpable silence that enveloped them, cocooned in the warm glow of sunlight pouring through the window like liquid gold.
Fitran's gaze fixated on his bowl, his eyes scanning its surface as if he were deciphering an ancient mantra etched into its depths. Meanwhile, Rinoa busied herself with the rhythmic stirring of her rice, though there was no purpose in her action. A faint blush colored her cheeks, illuminated by the soft morning light, which seemed to wrap around her like an embracing hug. The wooden spoon cradled in Fitran's hand had refused to move for an eternity, growing heavier with each tick of the clock, as if it bore the tremendous weight of their unspoken thoughts. Outside, a crow cawed sharply, its raucous call echoing through the stillness, as if it were mocking the awkwardness that clung to them like a thick fog.
Finally, Fitran dared to break the silence. "Rinoa…" His voice trembled slightly, akin to a small stream that, after being blocked by a heavy stone, began to flow once more.
Rinoa immediately straightened up, her eyes sparkling with a mix of eagerness and curiosity. "Yes!?" she exclaimed, her voice slightly too loud, drawing the attention of an elderly woman at the adjacent table, who glanced over with a look of intrigue. Her heart raced, a tumult of embarrassment and hope swirling within her.
Fitran took a moment to pause, grappling with the weight of unspoken feelings that hung heavily around them. It felt as if he were sifting through his thoughts, choosing his words with meticulous care. "...This pickled radish... is salty, right?" he asked, his tone deliberately light as though he were trying to shatter the heavy atmosphere that enveloped them.
Rinoa shot him a piercing glare for a fleeting moment before her expression softened. She looked down, stifling a laugh, her teeth grazing her lower lip. "Fitran… your tone is so serious… I thought you were going to talk about... about…" Her voice trailed off as her delicate fingers danced over the grains of rice, a rosy hue creeping across her cheeks under the gentle morning light. The moment felt simple yet profoundly intimate, a bridge forged in shared vulnerability.
Fitran offered a faint smile, one that bore the weight of weariness yet sought to convey a sense of relaxation. "If I mention that topic, will you still be able to eat?" he teased lightly.
"…No," Rinoa whispered softly, a blush warming her cheeks, but within her, a sense of lightness began to bloom, like the first rays of sunshine breaking through the morning haze. The gentle sunlight draped over them, washing away the remnants of awkwardness.
"That's why," Fitran said, finally taking a bite of rice. The soft clink of his spoon against the bowl resonated, filling the air with a harmonious warmth that curiously enveloped Rinoa.
Rinoa gazed warmly at the man across from her, offering a faint smile, though an undercurrent of unease still lingered between them. Yet, the initial awkwardness began to dissipate in the presence of Fitran, like the first rays of sun breaking through a cold dawn. Even as they chatted about something as mundane as pickled radish, his gentle voice added an unexpected richness to their exchange.
A moment later, the rhythmic sound of wooden spoon against bowl became the heartbeat of their connection—soft yet resonating amidst the heavy silence. Each chew brought forth memories of the night before, their minds dancing back to the warmth of shared intimacy: the delicate brush of fingertips, the tender whispers that stirred something deep within, and an unmistakable warmth that still seemed to linger in the air like an afterthought.
Stealing a glance at Fitran, Rinoa felt her heart quicken. His hair lay in a slightly tousled disarray, a testament to a night of restless thoughts, creating an intimate chaos about him. Yet, despite this sleepiness that clung to him, he radiated a calmness that felt like a soothing balm. He was unmistakably Fitran, his tranquil presence gently calming the restlessness that swirled within Rinoa.
"I had a restless night," Rinoa mumbled softly, her chopsticks poking unceremoniously at the tofu on her plate, her fingers trembling ever so slightly with a hint of unease. "There was a big monster beside me."
Fitran raised an eyebrow, genuine curiosity lighting up his features like morning sun breaking through the clouds. "A monster? Is he… tall and silent, with piercing eyes that seem to glow in the dark, and delights in setting his enemies aflame? But most importantly, he's incredibly handsome."
Rinoa pretended to consider this, her spirit buzzing playfully as their gazes locked for a fleeting moment. "Yes, and he snores like an ancient dragon," she replied, a teasing glint in her eyes.
Fitran paused mid-chew, his expression shifting to one of startled disbelief. "…Snores? I don't snore," he protested, his laughter emerging with an air of confident charm, infusing the atmosphere with warmth.
"You do snore," Rinoa insisted with a lighthearted laugh, the sound flowing like a gentle stream, bubbling over with joy. "But don't worry, it's an adorable snore."
"Adorable snoring? Is that an insult or a compliment in your book?" he queried, his tone softening, tinted with a hint of playful suspicion, as if he were eager to unravel the emotions intertwined in Rinoa's words.
"A compliment… for the monster," Rinoa replied with feigned seriousness, her smile suddenly lighting up the moment like a sunrise breaking through a heavy fog, transforming an awkward tension into a profound connection, bridging the gap that silence had once created between them.
Fitran glanced at her for a moment, his warm smile contrasting with the tension that flickered in his shoulders. "Then this monster must be careful, for sometimes even monsters can fall in love with lost travelers wandering in their forests." His voice trembled slightly, thick with a deeper resonance that suggested his words carried a weight beyond mere jest.
Rinoa fell silent, her small fingers curling around the warm cup of tea, the soothing heat radiating against her cold palm. For a fleeting moment, the smile that had brightened her face faded, replaced by a wistful gaze that delved into the depths of her cup, as if seeking answers within its swirling amber liquid. The air thickened with silence, punctuated only by the synchronized rhythm of their heartbeats, each pulse creating an atmosphere rich with a blend of hope and uncertainty.
"If the wanderer... wants to stay in the forest, may I?" she whispered, her voice a gentle breeze that drifted softly through the leafy canopy overhead. Her gaze, shimmering with unmistakable longing, spoke of a desire that reached beyond mere words, yearning for something deeper.
Fitran regarded her in silence, his eyes glimmering like stars caught in the dappled light streaming through the bamboo window, casting delicate patterns across Rinoa's still-blushing face. Then, with a softness that left no room for doubt, he replied, "This forest has been waiting for you... even before you knew the way in." His voice, warm and inviting, enveloped the moment, gently dissolving the lingering tension that had once pooled between them.
For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked, creating an electric connection that shattered the lingering awkwardness. Gone were the barriers that kept them apart; instead, two souls stood united, courageously acknowledging that the previous night had been more than mere happenstance—it had marked the inception of something profound, a silent promise that transcended language itself. In the embrace of a comfortable silence, warmth enveloped them, intensifying as if the very forest around them held its breath, enshrining this sacred moment and weaving an enchanting tale between their intertwined destinies.
The morning sun streamed through the bamboo window slats, casting playful rays that danced upon the walls of the weathered pine-wood inn, infusing the small space where they sat with a golden warmth. Rinoa's cheeks remained slightly flushed, not from embarrassment, but from the quickening pulse of anticipation for the words Fitran had yet to utter. A soft laugh threatened to escape her lips as she marveled at her own vulnerability—how could a sorceress seasoned in facing void creatures and wielding forbidden magic feel so enraptured by a single romantic sentence?
Fitran set down his teacup with deliberate care, leaning back in his chair, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling which resonated with unspoken echoes. He fought against the awkward tension that lingered like a fog, creating a fragile bridge across the heavy silence. "Once, I believed that feelings like this were mere distractions from our mission, muddling logic and blinding judgment," he confessed, a wavering shadow of regret flitting across his features.
Rinoa bit her lower lip, nervously twirling the edge of her teacup with fingers that quivered slightly. Amid the swell of emotion filling her chest, she watched Fitran intently, hope glimmering within her as she felt the air thickening between them, pregnant with possibilities. "And now?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper, tinged with an almost fearful hope.
"Now…" Fitran turned to meet her gaze, his red eyes shimmering like shards of fallen stars in the morning light, and in that moment, the warmth between them surged. "I've come to realize that perhaps the only reason I've clung to my own path for so long… is to find you again. Even if you forget, even if we begin from places of different longing… it seems the universe continually nudges me closer to you."
Rinoa felt a stirring along her spine, the realization dawning that Fitran's very presence transformed the once-awkward atmosphere into something vibrant and alive. She bit her lower lip, tears shimmering in the corners of her eyes—not of sadness, but of an overwhelming fullness, a feeling eager to break free from the confines of her heart. "If I never remember everything again," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with unspoken hope, "would you still choose me?"
"I don't need your memories to love you," Fitran replied without pause, his voice calm yet imbued with a gentle resonance that touched the heart, like the soothing notes of a lullaby. "All I need is this moment… and you in it."
The silence enveloped them, sweet and thick, as if their hearts were beating in unison under the delicate veil of a shared intimacy. No longer awkward or hesitant, it felt as though every unsaid word had been expressed in the warmth that wrapped around them, leaving only a feeling of serene togetherness. Amidst the steam rising from the tea, swirling like ethereal wisps of memory, the calming herbal aroma filled the air, while the soft sunlight streamed through the window, casting a gentle glow over their forms. In this rare oasis of peace, the two sorcerers savored the tranquility that stood in stark contrast to their world of bloodshed and magical intrigue.
Then—perhaps the universe was teasing them, eager to break the bubble of their moment—a soft, unexpected rumble erupted from Rinoa's stomach, the sound playfully shattering the heavy silence that had wrapped around them like a thick blanket.
"...I'm hungry again," she murmured softly, her eyes sparkling with stifled laughter, their brightness creating a cheerful light that illuminated her face, making it glow like a sunlit morning.
Fitran chuckled, his laughter warm like the caress of the morning sun on a cool day. "Alright, adventurer. Let's go find breakfast round two."
Rinoa beamed broadly, her smile radiating warmth that seemed to chase away any lingering clouds of doubt. "But if the place is far, you have to carry me, okay?"
"...You're a high-class sorceress," Fitran replied, his gaze dancing between challenging and tender, like a playful wind stirring the leaves in a quiet forest.
"And you… are the boyfriend of a high-class sorceress. You must be ready to work extra," Rinoa teased, her playful tone ringing like a chime in the gentle breeze.
Fitran let out a sigh, a blend of exhilaration and fatigue hanging in the crisp morning air. Yet, his lips curled into a smile, unable to resist the warmth that surged between them, lifting his spirits. When had life blossomed into such vibrant hues, each fleeting second pulling them closer together beneath the canopy of a brilliant sky?
As they stepped out of the quaint inn, sunlight danced upon the cobblestone path of Cerza, strewn with colorful flower petals that whispered of spring's embrace—two souls entwined in a comfortable silence that required no words, savoring the tender morning that brimmed with the promise of hope and love.