They stayed by the lake longer than they meant to.
The sun slowly descended, painting the warm valley in shades of amber and gold. The water reflected the sky like molten glass, ripples catching light every time someone moved. Laughter echoed softly between the cliffs, blending with the constant, calming roar of the waterfall.
For a while, they were just silhouettes against the glowing horizon—running through shallow water, splashing lazily, letting exhaustion melt away.
Lunaria stood near the stream, water brushing his calves, silver hair darker where it had gotten wet. With his hair now shorter than before—yet still long enough to sway and frame his face—it clung softly to his neck and cheeks. The warmth made his movements slower, gentler.
Ash noticed.
He didn't say anything, but his eyes followed Lunaria more than once.
When the sun finally dipped low enough that the valley began to cool, Kael was the first to groan.
"If we stay any longer, I'm sleeping right here."
That ended it.
They dressed in clean clothes back at the house, the lingering warmth still on their skin. Lunaria moved quietly into the kitchen, tying his sleeves back with practiced ease.
Dinner was simple—but comforting.
He toasted hamburger buns lightly, the scent filling the house, then prepared quick patties with what they'd bought earlier. Fresh fruit juice followed—bright, cold, and sweet, a perfect contrast to the warm air outside.
No one complained.
They ate together at the long table near the window, the valley darkening beyond the glass. Conversation was relaxed—small comments, quiet laughter, the kind that didn't need to fill silence.
When they finished, fatigue finally caught up.
One by one, Kael, Riven, and Juno excused themselves and headed to their rooms, footsteps fading down the hall. Lights dimmed. Doors closed.
The house grew quiet.
Lunaria stepped out onto the balcony alone at first, leaning against the railing. Night air brushed against his face—cooler now, refreshing rather than cold. The waterfall glimmered faintly under moonlight, mist drifting lazily through the valley.
Then footsteps.
Ash joined him, resting his arms on the railing beside him. Neither spoke at first.
They stood there together, listening to the water, the distant night sounds, the soft hum of mana moving through the land.
Ash glanced sideways.
Lunaria's hair stirred in the breeze, silver strands catching moonlight. Without the ribbon, without armor or blood or a blade in his hands, he looked… softer. Still dangerous. Still overwhelming—but different.
Ash stared a little too long.
Lunaria noticed.
"…What?" he asked quietly.
Ash didn't look away this time.
"You know," he said slowly, voice lower than usual, "you weren't like this when we first met."
Lunaria blinked. "Like… what?"
Ash turned fully toward him. "Alive. Open. You scared me back then—but you also felt distant. Like you were already somewhere else."
He exhaled, fingers tightening slightly on the railing.
"But now… you changed everything."
Lunaria's breath caught.
Ash continued, eyes steady. "You dragged me through hell. Forced me to survive. Forced me to grow." A faint smile touched his lips. "You changed how I see strength. How I see myself."
Silence fell again.
Lunaria felt heat rush to his face all at once.
His ears burned. His cheeks flushed deep red, spreading fast. He turned his head away instinctively, one hand rising to cover part of his face.
"You— you're saying weird things," he muttered.
Ash chuckled softly. "Your face says otherwise."
Lunaria's blush deepened impossibly, moonlight doing nothing to hide it. His shoulders tensed, silver hair falling forward as he tried—and failed—to compose himself.
"I didn't do anything special," he said, voice quieter now.
Ash leaned a little closer—not touching, but close enough for Lunaria to feel his presence.
"You never notice," Ash said gently. "That's the problem."
Lunaria swallowed, heart beating louder than the waterfall below.
The night stretched around them—quiet, warm, and heavy with unspoken things—as the two stood on the balcony, one staring openly, the other glowing red beneath the moon.