The capital was still wrapped in darkness.
Not the peaceful kind that invited sleep, but a tense, watchful gloom—one that clung to rooftops and alleys alike, as if the city itself were holding its breath.
Toki and Lilith sat on an old bench tucked away in a narrow square, half-hidden by leafless trees and crumbling stonework. Time had not been kind to it. The wood was warped, the metal supports rusted and whining softly under their combined weight.
Lilith shifted, testing it cautiously.
"Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea?" she asked, eyes flicking toward the dark streets. "The Star Collector might still be nearby."
Toki leaned back slightly, elbows resting on his knees, gaze unfocused as he stared at the cobblestones.
"We can't make the report yet," he replied calmly. "It's still night. If I show up at headquarters holding the Star Collector's hand in the middle of the night, it'll raise too many questions."
He exhaled slowly.
"And besides… I need a moment. To sort my thoughts."
Lilith snorted softly and shifted again as the bench let out an ominous creak.
"Speak for yourself," she muttered. "This thing is one bad breath away from collapsing."
Toki glanced sideways at her, then grinned.
"You think this bench can't hold both of us?" he said in a deliberately light, almost teasing tone. "Shame on you."
There was a beat of silence.
Then—
Lilith froze.
Her eyes widened.
Color rushed to her face—half outrage, half disbelief.
"…Did you just call me fat?"
Toki blinked, then laughed under his breath.
"I said nothing of the sort."
She turned fully toward him now, hands clenched at her sides, indignation blazing openly across her features.
"I heard what you implied!"
Toki's smile deepened, mischievous and unapologetic.
"You women really do share certain traits," he said lightly.
That did it.
Lilith huffed and plopped down beside him with exaggerated force, the bench groaning in protest beneath them.
"If this thing breaks," she snapped, "I'm blaming you."
Toki chuckled softly, the sound low and tired—but genuine.
For a brief moment, the tension eased.
Then Lilith spoke again, her tone quieter this time.
"…Still," she said, eyes fixed on the empty square ahead, "I can't believe you came up with a strategy like that so quickly."
She glanced at him sidelong.
"It's almost like you've been through something like this before."
The smile on Toki's face faltered.
Just for an instant.
He looked away.
Moonlight caught the edge of his profile, sharp and distant.
"That's not—" he began, then stopped himself.
He straightened slightly, forcing his voice into a steadier register.
"Honestly," he said, "if Utsuki hadn't helped me clear my head last night, I don't think I would've reached that conclusion at all."
Lilith's lips pursed.
She slouched a little, folding her arms.
"…There it is," she muttered.
Toki glanced at her. "There what is?"
"That name," she said, pouting faintly. "Your precious princess."
He sighed.
"Lilith—"
"Do you have to bring her into every conversation?" she pressed, irritation laced with something softer beneath it. "What's so special about her, anyway?"
Toki didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he lifted his hand and gestured toward the sky.
The moon hung low above the capital, pale and distant, half-veiled by drifting clouds.
He thought for a long moment.
What is special about her?
The question echoed deeper than Lilith probably intended.
"What fascinates me most about her," Toki said at last, voice low and thoughtful, "is that she never tries to stand out."
Lilith glanced at him, surprised by the softness in his tone.
"She said it herself once," he continued. "Utsuki is… simply Utsuki. No masks. No performances."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"She's a person of extremes."
Lilith leaned back slightly, listening now, no trace of teasing left.
"The first time we met," Toki went on, "she looked like nothing more than a helpless, confused girl. Lost. Fragile. The kind of person the world devours without even noticing."
He exhaled sharply, almost a quiet laugh.
"And then—very quickly—she showed me she was stronger than I was."
Lilith's brow furrowed. "Stronger than you?"
Toki nodded.
"At the Old Man Archibald's Inn," he said, eyes distant now, fixed on something only he could see. "She fought with everything she had. No hesitation. No fear."
His fingers curled slightly against his knee.
"And I stood there. Thinking. Calculating. Waiting for the 'right moment.'"
He shook his head.
"She moved when I didn't."
The admission carried weight.
Lilith said nothing, allowing the silence to breathe.
"Utsuki is like a rose," Toki continued quietly. "Beautiful, yes—but that's not the point."
He lifted his gaze, eyes sharp again.
"She has thorns. And she doesn't flaunt them."
A pause.
"There's a strength in her silence," he said. "A kind of power that doesn't need witnesses."
The wind shifted, brushing snow along the stones.
"Even when the world judged her," he added, voice tightening, "just because her hair is white like the Witch's."
Lilith stiffened slightly at that.
"She never bit back," Toki said. "Never let the world rot her spirit. Never let its cruelty define her."
His jaw clenched.
"I've fought in countless wars," he murmured. "Years of wandering. Killing. Surviving."
He let out a breath that sounded almost weary.
"And yet… the way she approaches problems is far superior to mine."
Lilith turned fully toward him now.
"She keeps an eye on me," Toki said, almost ruefully. "Always."
He smiled faintly.
"Sometimes I think she knows me better than I know myself."
The words lingered between them.
"She knows all my habits," he went on. "All my patterns."
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
"If we ever fought seriously," he admitted, "I think she'd beat me senseless."
"Don't you think," she said, arms crossed, voice edged with skepticism, "that you're giving her more credit than she deserves?"
She turned to face him fully.
"No one is perfect, Toki. No one."
Toki didn't answer right away.
He watched the faint fog drifting along the street, the way it curled around broken stones and vanished without leaving a trace.
"I know," he said finally. "Utsuki knows that too."
He looked at Lilith then, eyes steady.
"She doesn't pretend otherwise. She doesn't try to hide her weaknesses."
A pause.
"She claims them."
Lilith frowned slightly.
"When she needs help," Toki continued, voice quieter now, "she asks for it. Without shame. Without pride getting in the way."
His fingers tightened against the edge of the bench.
"…I could never do that."
The admission sat heavy in his chest.
"Utsuki will be Utsuki," he said, almost to himself, "no matter what happens."
He exhaled slowly.
"But I've never had that luxury."
Lilith remained silent, sensing the weight beneath his words.
"I've always been what was necessary," Toki went on. "A wanderer when the road demanded it. A soldier when war called."
His gaze hardened.
"And now, I'm the leader of the Fourth Division."
A title.
A role.
Lilith leaned forward slightly.
"And you don't think," she said carefully, "that she's using you?"
The words were blunt—but not cruel.
"I don't see what you gain from this relationship," she added. "Even if the entire kingdom voted tomorrow and chose a Witch as their new ruler…"
Her eyes searched his face.
"That doesn't mean you'd be the man standing at her right hand."
Silence.
The bench creaked softly as Toki shifted.
Then he laughed—once. Short. Sharp.
"I can't judge her for using me," he said, a spark of heat flaring in his voice. "I used her too."
Lilith blinked.
"I used her to give myself a purpose," he admitted. "Even if it was a temporary one."
His shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath.
"What I hope for," he said more quietly, "is that people will open their hearts long enough to see who Utsuki is… before deciding what she is."
The distinction mattered.
Toki's gaze lifted, resolute now.
"I don't stand beside her because I want to be king," he said firmly.
Lilith felt something tighten in her chest.
"I stand beside her because I love what she represents."
His voice didn't waver.
"And even if she chose someone else," he continued, the words steady but heavy, "I would accept it."
A pause.
"If she's happy… then I'll be at peace."
Lilith studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable.
"You talk about her like a report," she said at last. "So composed. So… professional."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Do you even know her hobbies?"
"Her favorite food?"
"Her favorite flower?"
The questions landed one after another, sharper than they sounded.
Toki didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he smiled—just a little.
He reached into his coat and withdrew a small, worn coin.
Its surface was smooth from years of contact, the edges dulled not by age, but by habit.
"This coin," Toki said softly, resting it on his palm, "is what led me to Utsuki."
Lilith's gaze dropped to it.
"I can't say I ever asked her those things directly," he admitted. "We haven't spent much time together. Not the way ordinary people do."
Their duties had always stood between them.
"But I can say this," he continued. "I remember every second we did spend together."
He closed his fingers around the coin.
"Allow me," he said, voice steady but warm, "to introduce her properly."
Lilith raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"Utsuki is a girl who is half-witch on her mother's side," Toki began. "She has silver hair, like moonlight caught in motion."
The image came easily to him.
"Pink eyes," he went on, "soft as cherry blossoms in spring."
His thumb brushed unconsciously over the coin.
"She wears a silver hairpin shaped like a butterfly."
A pause.
"Her dream," he said more firmly now, "is to become queen of the kingdom."
Lilith stiffened slightly.
"Not for power," Toki added quickly. "But to bring equality."
His jaw tightened.
"She's been through things… difficult things. Painful ones. It took suffering for her to reach that resolve."
The night seemed to listen.
"As for food," he said, a faint smile returning, "from what I've noticed in the dining hall—she favors sweet bread."
"And cake," he added, almost amused.
Lilith blinked. "You noticed that?"
"I notice a lot," Toki replied.
"She has a pink night robe," he continued, "so I assume her favorite color is pink."
A small shrug.
"It suits her."
"And her favorite flowers," he said without hesitation, "are cherry blossoms."
Lilith's expression softened despite herself.
"When it comes to her interests," Toki went on, "she studies constantly. She's read more books than most scholars twice her age."
He looked almost proud.
"She can draw, too. Detailed sketches. Botanical studies. Entire pages devoted to flower species."
His voice lowered.
"She likes animals."
Lilith smiled faintly.
"I know that when she thinks no one is watching," Toki said, "she plays with her rabbit."
"…Arashi," he added, as if saying the name out loud mattered.
Something warm flickered behind his eyes.
"She has a beautiful voice," he said quietly. "And somehow… she always makes the people around her feel included."
Lilith raised both hands suddenly, interrupting him with exaggerated disbelief.
"Whoa. Whoa," she said, laughing softly. "I honestly don't know whether that was sweet… or incredibly strange."
She tilted her head, studying him with renewed curiosity.
"I mean, knowing all that just by watching her?" she added. "It sounds dangerously close to spying."
Then her expression shifted.
"But you," she said. "What about you?"
The question caught him off guard.
"What do you like, Toki?"
He hesitated.
For once, there was no calculation waiting in the back of his mind. No safe answer.
"If I told you," he said slowly, "I think I'd be lying."
Lilith blinked.
"If you want the truth," he continued, "you'd be better off asking Utsuki."
A faint, almost embarrassed smile crossed his face.
"Maybe it is strange that we know so much about each other just through observation," he admitted. "But that's how we show we care."
He paused, then turned the question back on her.
"But enough about me," he said lightly. "Lili—what do you like?"
Lilith leaned back against the bench, eyes lifting toward the sky.
For a moment, she looked… uncertain.
"I haven't really thought about it," she said at last.
She folded her hands in her lap.
"I've been a priestess of the Goddess Moonlight for as long as I can remember," she went on. "That role defined everything. My days. My thoughts."
A softer tone crept into her voice.
"But I like the feeling that she's watching over us," Lilith said. "That she cares. Like a protective mother."
The admission surprised even her.
"I like sweets," she added quickly, almost defensively. "Though I'm not allowed to eat too many—apparently it affects my combat ."
She smirked.
"I like annoying people," she said. "It's fun."
Toki huffed quietly.
"And I like walking at night," Lilith finished. "When the world is quieter. When everyone else is asleep and no one expects anything from you."
Toki listened without interrupting.
Then he nodded.
"Nothing strange there," he said simply. "You're a normal girl. Just like anyone else."
Lilith turned toward him sharply.
"…You really think so?"
"Yes," he replied without hesitation.
"You know," she said, eyeing him sidelong, "if you used that charm of yours properly, you could have any woman you wanted."
Toki smiled, but shook his head.
"Thank you for the compliment," he said. "But I prefer to stay reserved."
"…That's unfair," she muttered.
"To whom?" Toki asked.
"To anyone who thought they had a chance," she replied.
Toki lifted his gaze toward the eastern horizon.
The darkness was thinning now, slowly surrendering to a pale, hesitant glow.
"The sun's about to rise," he said quietly. "I think someone's been waiting for us for hours."
Lilith followed his eyes, then sighed.
"Duty never sleeps," she muttered.
Toki straightened and brought two fingers to his lips.
He whistled—sharp and powerful, the sound cutting cleanly through the still air.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
A distant rush of wind.
A massive shadow crossed over the rooftops.
Umma jumped from the sky , her wings slicing through the dawn mist before she landed nearby with practiced precision. Stone cracked softly beneath her talons as she folded her wings, feathers ruffling as she lowered her head.
Toki approached immediately, resting his forehead briefly against her beak.
"Good girl," he murmured, running his hand gently along her feathers.
The tension he'd been carrying all night eased—just a little.
Lilith stepped closer. She reached out and stroked Umma's side, cooing softly.
"Oh…" she said, smiling. "You were worried about your master, weren't you?"
She leaned closer, teasing gently.
"Goo-goo-goo."
Umma responded with a low, pleased rumble, feathers fluffing as she shifted her weight.
Toki smiled faintly.
"Umma is more family than animal," he said. "From the very first day, she's taken me wherever I asked. No hesitation."
As if understanding his words, Umma let out another satisfied sound, and Toki wrapped his arms briefly around her neck. The bird leaned into the embrace, content.
Toki pulled back and turned to Lilith.
"Ready, Lili?" he asked.
Lilith didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she reached out and took his hand.
Her grip was firm. Grounding.
"Let's go," she said.
Together, they mounted Umma's back. The great bird shifted, steadying herself.
With one powerful leap, the palace was the destination.