Rose asks once again.
Oliver lies back on the soft bed. "Go to the room upstairs. Your bow is laid neatly there, and you can sleep there as well… there is only one room upstairs," he says halfway through, but Rose immediately rushes up.
I follow Rose at once, yet there is something I need to ask. "When do we leave, Oliver?" I ask.
"Perhaps tomorrow. We cannot stay here long. Enemies will come, and I do not want this beautiful place to be tainted by those animals."
I smile and walk up the stairs toward the room above.
As I am about to enter—SPLASHHH.
The bow flies swiftly in front of me. "What—?" I say.
"E-eh, sorry, I did not know you were there. The bow slipped from my hand by accident," she replies.
I enter the room, place my bag neatly in the corner, then lie back on the bed.
"Do you know, Hiro? I do not want to be a burden to you. With this bow, I will defeat thousands of enemies, you know," she says softly.
I laugh quietly. "In that case, it will be very helpful, hmph," I reply.
"Hah, what are you laughing at? Are you underestimating me?" she asks, sitting on the edge of the bed near me.
I do not answer, only smile, one eye glancing at her. Her face turns red with irritation.
She raises one hand into the air. "Do you want me to slap you again?"
"DON'T!"
---
Sunlight touches my face as I wake—too warm, too gentle, too unfamiliar. Voices echo outside. Rose… loud again, trying to impress her uncle with whatever she considers skill.
I walk down the stairs. The scent of cold food reaches me first.
"Hiro," Rose says, smiling as if the world bends toward her, "your breakfast is on the table. You overslept, so it has gone cold."
I do not answer. I sit, eat, and watch her laugh with Oliver. None of her shots land near the center. She pretends not to notice. I turn away before the absurdity makes me choke—
Too late.
I cough, force air through my throat, press a fist to my chest. Water would help—but I do not ask.
My thoughts drift back to the village, to the distant horizon, to Lumineth.
Mother… will I truly find the Three Meanings there?
The possibility draws a small, unconscious smile from me.
"Hiro?" Rose calls.
My shoulders tense even before I look at her.
"Uncle says we are leaving now. The coach is waiting. He needs to gather his friends first. Come on…"
I stand. I want one last look at the view—quiet, untouched—but her voice cuts in again.
"Hiro…"
I approach. She leans in, too close, invading the last bit of space I keep for myself.
"We will be sailing across the sea for four days and seven nights," she whispers, her tone gleeful—as if she expects me to break.
"WHAT?!"
I recoil. "You are joking. Tell me you are joking."
She shrugs. "I never lie. Ask Uncle."
I slump into the coach seat, my cheek resting on my palm, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
Silence steadies me—until Rose opens her mouth.
"My attacks hit the red mark eight out of eight, right, Uncle?" she announces proudly.
Oliver almost laughs. Rose snaps a glare at him.
"UNCLE!"
"Yes, yes," he says.
Rose beams at me, expecting praise. "Hear that, Hiro? I am that good."
"Of course," I mutter. "I will pretend I did not see the shot that almost hit the ground."
"HIROOO!"
The coach stops in front of the bar. Oliver steps out, enters the building, and—
With a single raised hand, the room falls silent.
Everyone looks at him as if he is carved from authority itself.
Even Rose is stunned. And for a brief moment, the quiet feels like something I could live in.
"My friends," Oliver calls when the room hangs on his voice,
"LET US SET SAIL!"
The room erupts in loud cheers.
"LET'S MOVE!"
Oliver points to the far left—his posture sharp, his left eye hidden beneath an eyepatch like a captain weathered by storms.
"Santiago, bring my guitar."
Santiago rises with a grin. One hand lifts his champagne. "Yes, Boss."
Oliver shifts his finger to the far right—a heavyset man whose right leg is replaced by a wooden prosthetic.
"Bartra, get moving. You are in charge of keeping the ship alive tonight."
Bartra offers a thin smile, raising his glass. "Of course, Boss."
The twins beside him—Grizz and Gruzz—lift their drinks the moment Oliver calls their names.
"EVERYONE READY?!"
His roar shakes the bar and spills into the night. I hear it clearly from where I stand outside.
So… yes. They are a unit—each one filling a role, all bound together under Oliver. I cannot help a small smile.
Oliver jumps back into the carriage with unfiltered enthusiasm.
"MOVE OUT!" he commands. The driver snaps the reins, and the carriage surges toward the harbor.
The others follow one by one behind him.
Another journey across the sea begins.
Hours later, we arrive at the port. Their ship is already prepared—Santiago's message sent by pigeon has done its job. There is no waiting. We board at once and set sail for Zepharia.
Just as I heard before, they go all in.
Everyone dances, laughs, moves as if the weight of the world is not pressing on their backs. Oliver plays his guitar, his voice carrying across the deck. Bartra—whether heavy or not—joins the rhythm without shame.
"Even with that belly, Bartra dances better than you," Rose remarks beside me.
She offers her hand.
"Care to try?"
I glance at her briefly but give no reply.
I remain silent and watch the others dance.
Morning becomes noon. Noon drifts into night. Lunch passes in silence—a sharp contrast to the journey here. Afterward, they collapse into sleep, drained by all the excitement.
I imitate them. I head to the back of the ship, lean against the wooden wall, wrap myself in my cloak, and sleep alone.
"Hiro…"
A whisper. I cannot tell where it comes from.
"Hiro…" again.
"HIRO!" Rose shouts, snapping me awake.
I lift my head, blinking away the blur.
"Dinner is ready. They are waiting for you to start. Come."
She extends her hand.
I give a slight nod, stand on my own, and walk on my own. Her hand falls. I follow her from behind.
On the way forward, something in the water catches my eye—a movement. Like a worm rising and sinking back beneath the surface.
I almost tell Rose.
But perhaps I am only imagining it. The sky is dark; nothing is truly clear.
I look up.
The moonlight has not fully settled over the night yet, but the dinner lanterns already glow bright enough to carve out their own warmth.
"Join us, Hiro," Oliver calls.
"We are starving," Grizz adds.
"Hurry," Gruzz follows.
I give a small smile and sit with them. The image of the dancing worm flickers in my mind for a moment—but I push it aside.
I can deal with it later.