The morning sun felt like a spotlight on Yuki's failures. He arrived at the Academy looking more like a corpse than a student—his skin was the color of parchment, and his gait was stiff, telegraphing the taped ribs hidden beneath his blazer. Without his glasses, his eyes seemed sharper, more exposed, though most students simply whispered that he looked "haunted."
"Look at the Zero!" Renjiro's voice cut through the hallway, followed by a chorus of mocking laughter. "What happened, Kinatarou? Did you trip over your own shadow, or did the air finally decide it was too good for you to breathe?"
Instead of looking at the floor, Yuki stopped. He turned and met Renjiro's eyes with a tired, genuine smile.
"Hey, Kurosawa-kun," Yuki said softly. "I'm just a bit under the weather. How have you been? You look like you've been training hard lately."
The hallway went silent. Renjiro's smirk faltered. He had expected a bite, a flinch, or a silent retreat—not a casual check-in. "I... yeah. I have. What's it to you?"
Renjiro stood frozen, his mouth slightly open. The "weakling" had just treated him like a peer, and for some reason, the insult he had prepared felt like lead in his throat.
Seri saw Yuki near the library. She had spent the last twenty-four hours practicing her "Ice Queen" stare, reminding herself of her father's shadow. But as Yuki turned a corner, her focus slipped.
They collided.
Yuki's books clattered to the floor. "Sorry, I'm a bit slow today," he muttered, dropping to one knee to gather them.
Seri instinctively reached down to help. The moment her fingers brushed against the back of his hand, a jolt went through her—a physical reminder of the heat he carried despite his "Zero" status. Her face erupted in a violent crimson blush.
"I—!" She couldn't find the words. The sight of his pale face up close made her heart ache so sharply it physically hurt. Without a word of apology, she scrambled to her feet and ran down the hall, her green hair fluttering like a flag of retreat. Yuki watched her back in confusion.
After school, Yuki returned to the Kyorin estate. He expected the crushing presence of Lord Genji or the unmoving silhouette of Tetsu. Instead, the garden was empty. The cracks on the ground from yesterday's fight remained, a jagged scar on the beautiful landscape.
"Yuki!"
The voice didn't come from the balcony. Seri was running across the grass, her usual royal grace abandoned for a desperate, stumbling sprint. Before he could greet her, she collided with him—not a bump this time, but a fierce, bone-aching hug.
"Seri? What are you—" Yuki did his best stabilized himself.
"I can't do it!" she sobbed into his chest. "I can't watch you break! I can't pretend I don't see you! I'm supposed to take care of you! Please don't be angry at me! Please forgive me!" The green light of her Kizo illuminated the tears streaming down her face, a silent protest against her father's rules.
She didn't wait for his permission. A brilliant, emerald glow erupted from her palms. Her Healing Kizo—warm and smelling of cedar and rain—poured into him. It surged through his skin, knitting his cracked ribs and soothing the internal bruising he had been hiding all day.
Yuki was shocked. This was the very act of treason he had defended her for avoiding. He felt the weight of her fear in the way she clung to him. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.
"I wasn't angry, Seri," he whispered. "I knew why you had to stay away."
"It doesn't matter!" she cried, pulling back just enough to look at him, her eyes wet and determined. "He's my father, but he isn't my owner. I'm going to confront him. I'm going to tell him that I won't stay away from you. If he wants to break someone, he can try to break me."
Yuki looked at the girl who had finally found her voice. The "Golden Cage" hadn't disappeared, but the bird inside had just learned how to sharpen its beak.
He pulled away from her and stepped back a bit creating some distance between them. He stretched lightly while examining his body. He was healed, the minor injuries were gone but the rest remained, although they didn't hurt anymore.
"Thank you Seri. I feel refreshed." Yuki smiled at her. "You're the best."
He gave her a big thumbs up.
Seri looked at the handsome boy in front of her. His face was glowing, his eyes were beaming with joy, and he felt as strong as ever. He was a far cry from the weak, injured boy that she bumped into at school. She had been keeping this healthy and vibrant state away from him.
Tears began to flow down her cheeks, they flowed uncontrollably.
"Huh?" Yuki stared in confusion. "Why are you crying again? I'm fine now, you just healed me." Yuki stepped closer wiping her tears. "You're a year older than me but you're such a crybaby." He gently moved his hand and rubbed her head.
"Idiot. I just missed you." Seri laughed and smiled at him. "Now get out of my house!"
"But you haven't served me any food yet. I'm hungry." Yuki stated while walking into the main building.
"I said get out! Not get in!" Seri yelled and chased after him.
By the time Yuki reached the slums, the adrenaline of the garden had faded, replaced by a quiet sense of accomplishment
The sun had fully dipped below the horizon by the time Yuki returned from the Kyorin estate. His ribs no longer throbbed thanks to Seri's healing, but he looked physically drained. Still, as he stepped through the door, a mischievous glint remained in his eyes.
"Luna! I have a surprise!" Yuki called out.
Luna, who had been sitting silently near Kira, scrambled to her feet and rushed him. Yuki knelt and slowly opened his cupped palms. Three fireflies, their abdomens pulsing with a soft, rhythmic amber light, crawled onto his skin. Her eyes filled with amazement and curiosity.
They sat on the floor, the apartment dark save for the blinking insects. "They're like tiny stars that got lost," Yuki murmured. They sat watching the fireflies for thirty minutes before they were interrupted.
The door burst open, and the light from the hallway flooded in. "What are you two idiots doing sitting in the dark?" Hana demanded, her hands on her hips.
"They are currently practicing a high-level technique known as 'Stupidity,'" Kira's box hummed from the counter. "I believe they are excelling at it."
Hana rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Wash your hands, Kinatarou. My Aunt is waiting, she wants you to have dinner with us. If you're a minute late, she'll probably raise your rent just for the spite of it."
Hana's apartment was identical to Yuki's, but it smelled of expensive wine and sandalwood. They also had more furniture , Yuki only had a mat and table. As they entered, Aunt Mai was setting the table. She looked up, ready to give the "Zero" a cold, intimidating stare. Yuki had protested about coming, Hana basically dragged him here while kicking and screaming.
Aunt Mai froze.
Without his glasses, Yuki's face was fully revealed. His features were sharp, his eyes a piercing, deep blue that seemed to hold a world of secrets. The "weakling" Hana described was, in reality, a strikingly handsome young man.
A faint, uncharacteristic pink dusted Mai's cheeks. She cleared her throat, quickly looking back at the rice cooker. "Sit down. Don't just stand there like a statue."
The dinner was... chaotic. Yuki didn't act like a polite guest. He ate shamelessly, piling his plate high and talking with his mouth half-full of tempura.
"Mai-san, if the landlady business fails, you should open a restaurant," Yuki said, grinning after his third bowl of rice. "Though I'd probably eat all the profits."
Hana kicked him under the table, but to her shock, Mai let out a genuine, melodic laugh. "You have a big mouth for a Royal, Kinatarou-kun."
"It's my only weapon," Yuki winked. "That, and telling beautiful women like you that they look too young to have a niece as grumpy as Hana." Yuki was following Kira's advice about complimenting women.
Hana kicked him again.
Mai's composure buckled. She tried to maintain her "mature" look, but her hands shook slightly as she poured more tea. "You... you talk too much. Just eat."