The moon hung whole and silver, washing the river in scales of light.
"This town at night… really is something," Aurel murmured, boots tapping the wide stone road. Mira walked quietly at his side in a deep red dress, waist-length white hair breathing perfume into the cool air.
When she glanced over, his black frames were gone; the tear mole at the corner of his eye showed clear.
There it is again—that quickening.
Mira pressed a palm to her chest.
"You okay? Feeling unwell?" he asked.
"I'm fine. Just… thinking," she said with a small, crooked smile.
"If it isn't a secret, tell me. Maybe I can help."
"It's about my little brother—Elfman," she lied gently, apologizing to him in her heart. "He and Macao's boy are friends… but they both like the same girl. Should the one who realized it later even try?"
"So the question is whether Elfman should chase her?" Aurel pinched his chin. "There's no seniority in love. If you like someone, you try. Otherwise you just collect regrets."
"And real comrades don't break over that. Look at Jet and Droy—they've liked Levy for years and still work fine together."
Mira blinked. "That's… true."
The knot in her chest loosened; her step grew lighter. "Thanks. I'll tell… Elfman."
"Hope he wins her," Aurel said, amused—Macao's kid had already stolen a first kiss, after all.
They reached Mira's two-story townhouse. A tall silhouette moved past the lit window—Elfman.
"Do you want to come in?" she asked, head tilted, voice soft.
"Another time. Good night, Mira-nee."
"Good night."
She watched him fade into the moonlit street before slipping inside.
— — —
["Protagonist? So What!" complete. Claim reward.]
["Hidden Affection!" complete. Claim reward.]
The pale blue prompts lined up in the air. Aurel exhaled. Finally.
"Claim all."
Knowledge bloomed behind his eyes—an empty field, a swallow in flight, a blade that split into three paths after it cut. No—like wind carving wind.
He steadied, studying his hands: long-fingered, smooth-palmed, not a swordsman's at all. Yet the foreign memory tugged them into shape; he shadowed a grip, and a razor hush rippled the night.
"Tsubame Gaeshi… not bad."
"Dora~?"
He turned. A red, palm-sized cat robot stood on his left shoulder—round bell, bright eyes, a tiny pouch stamped on his belly.
Aurel's mouth tipped up. "Evening, Little Dora."
"Dora-la!"
Little Dora hugged his cheek, nuzzling like an actual cat.
"Got anything in that pocket?" Aurel asked. "Or do I have to feed you coins first?"
"Do~ra!" Little Dora puffed with pride, tapped his pouch, and fished out… a rubbery-looking badge with a string. A tiny label read: Mini Anywhere Door—Keychain Size.
The robot held up one finger, flipped the badge open like a locket, and a doll-house door unfolded… growing just big enough for a person. It clicked onto the alley wall with a cheerful tonk.
Aurel arched a brow. "Destination?"
Little Dora produced a child's crayon signboard and scribbled: 'Home'. He slapped it on the doorframe. The handle glowed.
Aurel peered at the keyhole door, listened to the wind. "Tempting. But I should walk. Less suspicious."
Little Dora blinked, then tucked the mini-door back into his pouch with a pop. He rummaged again and offered a palm-sized flashlight with a strawberry sticker: Sleepy Beam (Weak).
Aurel chuckled. "That would've put half the guild out without Mystogan's commute."
"Do-ra?" Concern flickered in the robot's eyes; he patted Aurel's temple, then mimed writing.
"Right. Notes."
He took out a small notebook. On one page he sketched morning plans in neat lines:
Meet Levy at 7:30.
Pick up and stamp out five new requests before noon (no property damage).
Test "Tsubame Gaeshi" on targets that can be cut without cutting (stalks, reeds, wind ribbons).
Probe Natsu about other Dragon Slayers after lunch.
Keep Mira out of the line of fire.
Little Dora stamped the corner with a star seal—approved.
"Thanks, partner."
"Dora~!"
They reached Aurel's doorstep. He unlocked it, stepped in, and set a saucer of milk on the table out of sheer habit. Little Dora sniffed, then happily produced a collapsible metal straw and sipped with dignity.
Aurel leaned on the sill, watching moonlight puddle on the floor. Behind his glasses, the quest panel dimmed—rewards tucked away for when he needed them most: a swallow's impossible cut, a serpent's wand, a pocket that turned trouble into toys.
Tomorrow, work. And Levy.
He smiled, closed the shutters, and let the quiet wrap around the room like a cloak.
(End of Chapter)
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