"Not like that, Mr. Swordsman," Aerith scolded gently, catching Johnny's wrist. "If you press the soil too hard, the roots can't breathe. They need air, just like us."
Johnny took a short breath, his brow furrowing in concentration. He was attempting to loosen the soil around the roots of a wilted flower. For Johnny, crushing a boulder with his bare hands would have been infinitely easier than this task.
"This is... complicated," Johnny grumbled, though he didn't stop.
He used his large, rough index finger to pry at the earth with extreme caution. He imagined his finger wasn't made of iron, but of feather.
"There, like that. Clever," Aerith praised, beaming with a wide smile.
Johnny watched Aerith's profile from the side. She was humming softly as she watered the flowers next to him.
That strange feeling returned.
Johnny had met this girl less than an hour ago. Yet, sitting beside her, their shoulders almost touching, inhaling the same scent of earth and blossoms... it felt as if he had known Aerith for a lifetime.
It felt like coming home to a place he never knew he had.
There was no tension. No vigilance. The soul of Guts, usually always ready to strike or be struck, now sat still, feeling content.
'Is this what you felt back then, Griffith? When you still had a dream?' Johnny thought, but he quickly brushed the notion aside. 'No. This is different. This isn't ambition. This is peace.'
Suddenly, Aerith stopped humming. Her hand, holding the watering can, froze in mid-air.
Johnny felt it a split second later.
The atmosphere outside the church shifted. The sparrows that had been chirping on the roof fell silent. The wind drifting in carried a scent Johnny knew all too well: the smell of acid and malicious intent.
"We have guests," Aerith whispered, her eyes fixed on the front doors of the church. There was no fear in her voice, only alertness.
"Uninvited guests," Johnny corrected.
Johnny's aura transformed instantly. The gentleness he had shown while tending the flowers evaporated, replaced by the cold hardness of steel. He reached for the hilt of the Scrap Greatsword lying beside him.
CRUNCH.
From the shadows of the rubble near the entrance, three Hedgehog Pies emerged. These small monsters were drawn by the high spiritual energy of the place, intent on devouring the roots of the sacred flowers.
They hissed, the spines on their backs glowing red as they prepared to hurl fireballs.
"They're going to burn the flowers!" Aerith cried out in worry.
Johnny was already moving before she finished her sentence.
"Stay back, Aerith."
Johnny surged forward. He didn't shout. He didn't stomp the ground hard to avoid damaging the wooden floorboards. He glided like a ghost.
As the first hedgehog fired a fireball, Johnny tilted his greatsword.
CLANG!
The fireball ricocheted off the flat iron surface of his blade, deflected harmlessly toward a bare stone wall, far away from the plants.
"Don't dirty this garden," Johnny growled.
The distance was closed. Johnny didn't swing his sword in a full arc—that would shatter the floor. Instead, he utilized a short-range thrust technique.
THUD!
The blunt tip of his greatsword slammed into the snout of the first hedgehog with lethal precision, crushing its skull inward. The monster died without even a squeak.
The other two hedgehogs tried to spread out. One left, one right. A pincer tactic.
Johnny showed no mercy. He pivoted on his heel, kicking the hedgehog on his left with the hard sole of his combat boot. The monster was sent flying, smashing into a wooden pillar.
Then, with one fluid motion, Johnny spun his greatsword and brought the heavy iron pommel down onto the spine of the hedgehog on his right.
CRACK.
Spine severed.
In ten seconds, the three monsters were carcasses on the church floor. Not a single flower petal had fallen. Not a single floorboard was broken.
Johnny stood tall amidst the bodies. His breathing remained even. He turned to Aerith.
"You safe?" he asked briefly.
Aerith stared at Johnny with eyes shining in admiration.
"Wow... You were so fast. And you... you protected the flowers."
Johnny didn't respond to the praise with sweet words. He knelt back down near the monster carcasses, pulling out his pocket knife.
"This type of monster has fire-resistant skin. It sells well in the Sector 5 market for cable insulation," Johnny said flatly as he began to skin the hedgehog with practiced efficiency. "And the meat... if cooked right, is edible. Though it tastes a bit bitter."
Aerith blinked, then let out a crisp laugh at seeing Johnny's drastic shift from "Protector Hero" to "Scrap Merchant" in a matter of seconds.
"You're really practical, aren't you, Johnny?" Aerith said, approaching him and crouching beside him as he butchered the monster. She showed no disgust at the sight of the monster's blood. "You don't waste anything."
"Life is expensive," Johnny muttered without stopping his work. "And I need money for the train ticket home."
In the peaceful afternoon light, inside the old church, the sight of a boy skinning monsters while a beautiful girl kept him company with a smile became a strange, yet harmonious tableau.