The sea growls beneath the ship as dawn breaks, a thin blade of light slicing the horizon. I stand at the rail, my breath sharp in my chest. Rose stands beside me, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering hard.
She is not made for the cold.
I am. Unfortunately.
"You're freezing," I say.
"No, just… a little…" Her voice trembles. Her smile is weak. She wants to look fine. She is not.
I remove my cloak and drape it over her shoulders. Her body stiffens. When I pull her closer—because the wind is merciless—her breath catches against me.
"Stay warm," I say.
"…You're too close," she whispers.
"The only option."
She falls silent.
The sun climbs. A thin line of gold spreads across the water.
"Hiro," she says, "there's something you need to know before we meet my uncle."
"About what?"
"About the Sun and the Moon. About the crystal inside you."
My breath stops. She begins to explain.
A war.
A god's punishment.
Lucifer condemned.
The Moon slain.
The crystal falling, lost.
A power never meant for humans.
"And now it's inside you," she says softly. "The next vessel. The next target everyone will hunt."
She looks at me. Her fear is not for herself—
it is for me.
"Don't look at me like that," I say.
"Like what?"
"Like I matter."
She freezes.
Breakfast passes in silence. The canned food she brought tastes ordinary, but my stomach rejects it. Guilt tightens every time she forces herself to eat just so I don't eat alone.
When she begins to clean up, her hands shake—not from the cold, but from something she is holding back.
"Rose."
"Hm?" Her answer is quick.
"I'm a burden."
She pauses.
Then she shakes her head. "No. I chose this. I started this."
"That's the problem," I say.
Her eyes widen. The can in her hand stops moving. The wind tugs at her hair, but she doesn't look away.
"So… you don't want me here?" she asks softly.
"That's not what I said."
I lift my shirt. The long wound from my chest to my waist is stitched over and over—dozens, maybe hundreds of times. "This is," I whisper.
"Hiro—are you in pain?" She reaches for me.
I dodge her hand before it touches my chest.
She stares—hurt.
"You act like I'm a threat," she says quietly.
"You don't understand what's inside me."
"And you don't understand what you are to me."
Her words strike harder than the cold wind. I am the first to look away.
Rose listens as if every word I speak is a thread tethering me to her. Her hope is reckless. Her closeness is dangerous. For a moment… I let her wrap the bandage around my wound.
"Hooaammn." She yawns while cleaning up the cans and bottles, packing her bag and things. Then she sits and leans against the ship beside me.
"I'm so sleepy, Hiro."
Her head drops onto my shoulder.
"Hiro," she murmurs, her voice drifting,
"I hope I dream of you."
When she finally falls asleep on my shoulder, saying my name, something tightens in my chest—hard enough to steal my breath.
My chest throbs again.
The wound feels as if it is pulling open.
The wind roars along the deck.
I look up—white clouds in a blue sky, a road I never chose, and a girl leaning on me with all her trust.
---
The sun burns against my eyelids. When I force them open, something is wrong—my shoulder is empty. Someone should be leaning there.
Rose.
I push myself up from the pile of bags, my body stiff after the long night. Before I can fully stand, her voice comes from behind me.
"You're awake."
She is kneeling beside a small arrangement of food. Two cans, two bottles—everything laid out neatly between us. She gestures for me to sit, and I sit without thinking.
Then she offers me bread. And milk.
It hits me at once—familiar. Too familiar. My mother used to do this. The exact same morning ritual.
My chest tightens.
"Eat this first," she says.
"We used to start our meals like this," I answer before I realize I am speaking.
Always.
I take the bread. The memory cuts through me—my mother's hand, the same motion. Warm. Painful.
Rose eats beside me.
"I learned this from my father," she says. "Before we lived in the village, we lived in the great Kingdom of Zepharia."
Zepharia. My mother's homeland.
"Was it… nice?" I ask.
"It was. Until the day he disappeared."
Her voice softens.
I give the answer I am supposed to. "You will find him."
She lifts her head and looks at me.
"Thank you, Hiro." Her smile is warm. Too warm.
Then she claps her hands lightly. "All right, let's have lunch first. The journey takes three days and three nights!"
"WHAT?!"
---
Three days, three nights.
First night: long conversations, dinner, staring at the moon, and one of us falling asleep first. A strange routine that somehow feels familiar now.
Next day: breakfast, walking around the ship, talking to the captain, lunch, meeting friendly passengers. Nothing special—except the exhaustion that clings like a curse.
Second night: dinner again. More stories. More laughter. More weariness.
By the next dawn, exhaustion presses down on me. The sea, the quiet, her closeness—everything squeezes the air from my lungs. I lean against the ship's railing as my vision blurs.
Then I see it.
Land.
A laugh escapes me—relief, almost disbelief.
Rose hurries over, smiling.
The ship approaches the coast.
"We need to hurry. I want to set foot on land right now, Rose," I say.
But her expression… why does she look at me like that?
"Hiro?" she asks, worried.
"Hm?"
She looks at me with the face of someone about to ruin my life.
"The trip to my uncle's place on land… is two days and two nights."
"WHAT?! AGAIN?!"
We board the carriage. Both of us are tired, for different reasons.
She—tired of the sea.
Me—tired of her.
The driver breaks the heavy silence.
"You two look sick of the ocean, huh?"
Rose answers softly, "Yes, sir."
He laughs loudly. "Everyone complains at sea. But on land? No one keeps complaining."
Then the view opens.
Rose's eyes shine.
"I forgot landscapes like this… I kept trying to remember where I had seen something like this before. Turns out it was here."
The driver nods calmly. "Paradise isn't just one place, miss. This is another paradise."
Mountains stretch across the horizon. A river winds like silver, ending in a waterfall spilling from a high cliff. The carriage moves slowly along the packed dirt road that connects several small settlements.
Below us, the valley is swallowed by thick forest. A few open patches reveal farmland. From one small hut, a thin stream of smoke rises into the sky.
The driver glances back with pride. "I travel this road every week. With scenery like this… how could I ever get bored?"