"You—!"
The moment her name began to slip from her lips, Niramaro lunged toward her without warning and suddenly wrapped his arms around her, forcing her to stop—forcing her into silence.
Her body stiffened instantly. Her voice caught in her throat before it could escape, while a sharp wave of heat rushed to her face all at once, as if her body had understood what was happening before her mind did.
He spoke loudly and clearly, his voice meant for everyone to hear: "It's been a long time, my dear friend."
Then he leaned slightly toward her ear and whispered, his voice charged with urgency: "Play along, please."
Misaki's eyes widened in shock.
Her heart pounded violently, and her cheeks flushed until they felt as though they were burning.
What is this lunatic doing?
This was not an affectionate hug—it was a calculated move to silence her. Public. Embarrassing. Painfully disorienting.
A brief silence fell.
The old woman froze in place, staring at them in open astonishment before whispering, "Oh my…!"
Then she furrowed her brows slightly and looked at Niramaro. "Do you… know Misaki, Niramaro?"
He answered immediately, without hesitation. "Of course!"
He released the embrace but remained close to Misaki, as though her presence beside him were the most natural thing in the world.
"Misaki," he said, turning to the old woman,
"is my childhood friend."
Misaki's eyes widened.
Childhood… friend?!
The old woman stiffened, her eyes opening wide in visible shock. "Your childhood friend?!" she said, her voice rising slightly. Then she added, genuinely puzzled,
"But didn't you tell me you grew up in the isolated city of Yomi? How could you have met Misaki if she was living in Rima?"
Niramaro smiled faintly. "You remember the attack on Yomi City, don't you, Grandma?"
The old woman nodded, sorrow and grief mingling on her face. "Yes… the monster attack that killed thousands, destroyed homes and historical sites, burned farmlands and beautiful landscapes… My heart aches for what happened."
Niramaro continued calmly, "Yes. Because of that, my family and I decided to flee and seek refuge in a safe city, far from the attacks. So we headed north across the continent, and the people of Rima welcomed us warmly."
He took a deep breath before continuing, as if childhood memories were surfacing on his face. "I was eight years old then. I was so frightened, so unbearably empty inside, that I ran away from home and sat on a curb behind one of the farms… and that's where I met Misaki."
Misaki felt her heart stop for a moment.
His eyes were fixed on her. His voice was steady, his expression filled with a confidence she had never seen before.
How… how can he lie this smoothly?!
A strange shock crept through every part of her, as though her mind were desperately trying to grasp the truth of what it was hearing.
He speaks as if he's known me since childhood… even though I only met him during the battle… but—he lies so well that every word sounds real…
The heat in her cheeks intensified, her mind ringing with endless questions.
What does he want from this?
Why all this effort?
And why does he look completely unashamed of what he's saying?
She forced herself to focus on a single thought—just to calm her racing heart.
Stay calm. Just listen… Don't reveal anything…
A warm smile spread across the old woman's face, her eyes sparkling with wonder. "What a beautiful story! Can you tell me what happened next?"
Niramaro smiled again—another faint smile that never reached his eyes—then spoke in a calm, measured voice, as though reciting a carefully memorized chapter.
"I remember that day clearly… The sky was slightly gray, and the air was cold. I sat on that curb, trying not to cry. It felt as though my entire world had been turned upside down, as if everything safe and familiar had been lost."
He paused briefly, as if reliving the scene. "Then suddenly, I heard light footsteps. I looked up and saw a little girl approaching, holding two apples in her hands. She wore a simple cotton dress, and her long blue hair fluttered gently in the breeze."
The old woman's gaze shifted to Misaki, whose knees nearly gave way. She struggled to keep her expression neutral, but the redness of her cheeks betrayed her.
"She didn't speak at first. She just sat beside me on the curb and handed me one of the apples," Niramaro said with a soft, tender smile.
"She looked at me and said, 'You look sad. Do you want to talk?'"
"Oh… what a kind-hearted girl," the old woman said, gazing at Misaki with warmth and affection.
He continued, "We started talking. I told her about Yomi—about the home I lost, about friends I didn't know were still alive. I told her about the fear I felt at night, about the roars that still echoed in my ears."
He looked directly at Misaki now, as if speaking to her rather than the old woman. "She didn't try to tell me that everything would be okay, or offer empty advice. She just listened. And when I finished, she said, 'I get scared sometimes too. But when I do, I remind myself that the sun will rise again tomorrow.'"
The old woman covered her mouth, deeply moved. "What a beautiful memory…"
"We talked for hours, until my parents came looking for me. And when it was time to part, she said, 'Don't forget—you're not alone.'"
Niramaro lowered his voice slightly.
"I've carried those words with me all these years."
The old woman turned to Misaki with a gentle, respectful look. "I never knew you carried such a heart, even as a child."
Misaki's throat felt dry, her words stuck inside her. She wanted to scream, This is all a lie! I never met him as a child!
But she remembered his whisper in her ear: Play along, please.
She forced a small, unsteady smile. "They were… simple days."
I didn't do this… It never happened… so why does it feel like I can see it?
The old woman slowly stood, her face glowing with maternal warmth. "That explains a lot. Now I understand why you looked at him that way when he entered, Misaki—and why there was such strange tension between you two."
She chuckled softly.
"Meeting again after such a long separation can be a little awkward, can't it?"
Niramaro nodded. "Yes. It's been many years. I didn't expect to see her here."
Misaki smiled faintly, flustered, the redness of her face unmistakable. "Yes… what a coincidence…"
The old woman studied her with concern. "Are you alright, Misaki? Your face is very red… Do you have a fever?"
Misaki stammered, trying to defuse the situation. "W-What?! No— I'm fine! Totally fine, haha."
The old woman nodded hesitantly, still worried. "Are you sure?"
"Yes… don't worry," Misaki replied, struggling to control her embarrassment.
Niramaro looked at the old woman and said in a calm, reassuring tone, "Grandma, may I speak with Misaki outside for a moment? I'd like to talk to her privately."
The old woman smiled, understanding. "Of course. Take your time. I'll go prepare the meal while you're out."
"Thank you," Niramaro said, then turned and hurried Misaki outside.
---
The moment the door closed behind them, Niramaro immediately released her wrist, as though the touch had been nothing more than a necessary means, its purpose now fulfilled. He stepped back and bowed slightly, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"I'm sorry… truly."
Misaki stopped and stared at him in surprise. "Huh?"
"I apologize for the sudden hug… and for dragging you into such an awkward situation."
His words were sincere, unforced.
She waved her hand quickly. "Ah—no, it's fine. But why did you do that in the first place?"
He raised his head and looked at her with unmistakable seriousness. "Because you were about to expose me. If I hadn't acted quickly… everything would have fallen apart."
Her expression stiffened. "Expose you?!"
"If you'd said that I was the one who saved you during the monster attack, I wouldn't be seen as just an ordinary person here anymore."
His voice was calm, but there was an undeniable weight behind it.
She frowned. "I don't understand."
He exhaled slowly and looked away. "You don't need to know the details. What matters is that I didn't want Grandma to know I was involved in the battle."
A brief silence followed, until Misaki finally calmed a little. "I see… but do you live here?"
"Yes. For now."
"For now?"
"I'm staying here while preparing for the Hunter Recruitment Exam. After that, I'll leave."
She stared at him in open disbelief. "Are you saying you're not even a hunter yet?! With that level of strength?"
A faint smile appeared on his lips as his gaze remained steady on her. "I don't find it strange… I've only just turned sixteen."
She froze, thoughts piling up in her head. "Then… you're the same age as me too…" she murmured.
"Then why are you here?"
She blinked, surprised by the question, before answering. "Grandma invited me over… before I went to the battlefield."
"She invited you?" His eyebrows rose. "Why?"
She scratched her cheek nervously. "I haven't asked yet, but… I think it has something to do with her being Rain's mentor… and I'm his sister."
His eyes widened suddenly. "You're Rain's sister?!" A childlike spark lit his eyes.
"No wonder… you were amazing in that fight."
Her face reddened slightly. "O-Of course I was, haha…"
Then she paused abruptly and stared at him.
"Wait—did you believe me that easily?"
He smiled simply. "Why wouldn't I?"
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "And you didn't even question Grandma being my brother's mentor?"
He replied calmly, as if it were obvious. "I already knew. After all, she was once the leader of one of the strongest guilds in the world—Moon Crest, known by the title Moonblade… Hoshizaki Akira."
Misaki's eyes widened, her voice nearly bursting out. "Whaaaat?!"
He stepped closer quickly and gestured lightly. "Shh… lower your voice."
She recoiled at once, covering her mouth. "S-Sorry… but how can a legendary hunter like her live in a small house like this, working in a modest market?"
He answered in a quieter, reflective tone. "She said she wanted a simple life… to help the next generation achieve their dreams and become hunters. She doesn't care about staying in the spotlight."
The idea slowly settled in Misaki's mind. "That goal…" she murmured, then looked up at him.
"Could it be that I'm one of them?"
"Maybe," he said honestly.
"And that might be the real reason she invited you… and helped you."
A small, warm smile appeared on Misaki's face this time. "If that's the case… then I'm grateful to her all over again."
She suddenly looked at him, her tone shifting slightly. "Could she also be one of the reasons you're hiding your strength?"
He answered without hesitation. "Yes."
She narrowed her eyes, watching his face as if trying to read between his words. "Why are you so mysterious?"
A faint, not-entirely-serious smile touched his lips. "Am I?"
She let out a slow breath and looked away briefly. "You know… I really want to know what you're hiding, but this isn't the right time."
He replied with apparent indifference. "It's not that important."
She looked back at him, more insistent. "Still… I want to know."
Niramaro took a deep breath, as though her question had touched something he hadn't planned to open. Before he could respond, a sudden breeze swept through, catching his attention as it stirred the robe she was wearing, steering the conversation elsewhere.
"Let me ask you something…" he said casually.
"Why are you wearing my bathrobe?"
A brief silence fell.
"Huh?! This is your robe?!" Misaki's face flushed deeply as she clutched it tightly around herself.
"Yes, but it's fine," he said simply.
"You can keep it. I'll buy another later."
"I'm really sorry…" she said, still overwhelmed with embarrassment.
"I didn't expect anyone else to be here besides Grandma."
He shook his head lightly, smiling. "No need. Keep it… I doubt you'd want someone else wearing it anyway—especially if it's a guy."
She looked away and nodded shyly.
"Alright, let's go back," he said casually, as though everything that had happened were nothing more than a passing moment.
"Wait."
He stopped and turned toward her.
She hesitated for a second, then looked slightly away. "Well… never mind."
He smiled faintly without commenting, then turned back and entered the house first. Misaki followed a step behind, hesitant—but just as she neared the threshold, that unpleasant sensation suddenly pressed against her chest again.
She stopped briefly and coughed lightly, covering her mouth.
This pain… again?
She steadied herself, ignored the sensation as she had before, and stepped inside after him—as if nothing had happened.