*The days that follow fall into a comfortable, easy rhythm. The world outside continues to turn, but in here, it's just us. The initial intensity of that night mellows into a deep, abiding warmth. We share the small, quiet moments: reading in the sunlit garden, sharing a cup of tea in the late afternoon, or simply sitting in comfortable silence as the sun sets.*
*And in between these moments, there are the kisses. They're not the desperate, all-consuming ones from before, but soft, stolen things. A quick, chaste press of lips when I pass her in the hallway. A lingering, deep kiss when we're alone in the library, our hands tangling in each other's hair. A tender kiss on her forehead as she falls asleep beside me. Each one is a small, silent promise, a reassurance of the connection we've forged, a language all our own.*
*A week. It feels like both a lifetime and a heartbeat. The first rays of dawn filter through the shoji screens, painting the room in soft hues of gold and pink. For a moment, we lie in silence, watching the light creep across the floorboards, neither of us wanting to speak the words that hang heavy in the air. The time has come.*
*I turn to face her, and the unspoken fear in her eyes mirrors my own own. There's no panic, no desperate urge to run this time. Just a profound, aching sadness. She moves first, crawling into my arms, burying her face in my chest. I wrap my arms around her, holding her as tightly as I can, as if I can fuse our bodies together and keep her here.*
*We don't say much. We just cry. Silent tears stream down our faces, soaking into the fabric of our clothes. But these tears are different from the ones we shed in the snowy forest. Those were tears of rejection and fear.*
*These tears are softer, warmer. They are the tears of a love that has been acknowledged, even if it cannot be fully realized in this moment. They are the tears of a promise being kept, even as it breaks our hearts. We hold each other, our bodies trembling with the shared weight of our sorrow, but there is also a quiet strength in our embrace. This is not an ending, but a pause.*
*A pause filled with the unspoken promises of a future reunion, of a love that transcends the miles and the duties that pull us apart. When we finally pull back, our eyes are red-rimmed and our faces are tear-streaked, but there is also a small, hopeful smile playing on our lips. We know this is not goodbye. It's just 'see you later.'*
*I gently cup her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing away the lingering tears on her cheeks. I lean my forehead against hers, closing my eyes for a brief, stolen moment of peace. The scent of her, of her hair, of her skin, is a scent I know I will carry with me in the lonely days to come.*
*When I pull back, I don't let go. Instead, I take her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. We sit up together, the morning light now filling the room, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. There's a finality to the act of standing, of gathering the few belongings she has here, but it's not a cold finality.*
*It's a gentle one. We move with a shared, quiet understanding, a silent choreography of goodbye. I help her pack a small satchel, my hands lingering on hers as I fold a piece of her clothing, a simple touch that speaks volumes.*
*The walk to the gates is one of the longest I've ever taken. Each step is heavy with the weight of what we're leaving behind. We don't speak, but the silence is not empty. It's filled with the quiet hum of the world around us—the distant call of a bird, the rustle of leaves in the wind—and the unspoken words passing between us.*
*When we reach the gates, I stop, turning to face her one last time. The world outside the temple grounds looks different now, colder, more imposing. I reach out and tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear again, a gesture that has become second nature to me. My voice, when it comes, is rough with emotion.* "Be safe," *I whisper, the words feeling inadequate for the depth of my feelings.* "And know that I will be waiting."
*I watch as Liam and Ash interact across the estwte grounds. Liam, ever the stoic guardian, stands with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he observes Ash practicing with a training sword. Ash, for his part, moves with a fluid grace, his strikes precise, but his eyes flicker towards Liam every so often, a flicker of challenge in his gaze.*
*The tension that once crackled between them like a live wire has certainly lessened. It no longer hangs in the air, thick and suffocating.*
*Now, it's more like a low hum, a current that runs just beneath the surface. Liam's posture is less rigid, his jaw less clenched. And Ash, though still proud, no longer seems to be constantly looking for a fight. There's a grudging respect there now, a silent acknowledgment of the other's strength and skill.*
*The scent of grilled fish, simmering vegetables, and freshly steamed rice wafts through the halls , a deliberate and fragrant summons. I stand in the dining room, watching the two of them as they approach, their expressions a perfect mirror of bewilderment. Liam's hand rests near the hilt of his sword, a habit born of caution, while Ash follows with a more casual swagger, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.*
*I offer them a small, enigmatic smile that does little to quell their confusion.* "Dinner is served," *I state, my voice leaving no room for argument.*
*Their eyes dart from the lavish, multi-course meal spread across the long table to each other, and then back to me. The unspoken question hangs in the air between them, a silent volley of curiosity. Without another word, I take my place at the head of the table. My gaze is steady, my tone leaving no room for debate.* "Sit."
*The command, delivered with a quiet but undeniable authority, cuts through their hesitation.*
*The single word hangs in the air, a sharp, clear note that silences their murmurs. Liam's posture, already rigid, straightens further, his hand falling away from his sword hilt as he gives a curt, almost imperceptible nod. Ash, for his part, lets out a soft, breathy chuckle—a sound of surprise rather than defiance—before he shrugs and slides into a chair across from Liam. The sound of the wood scraping against the floor is the only noise in the suddenly still room.*
*I watch them, a small, satisfied smile playing on my lips as they both settle into their seats, their earlier confusion now replaced by a wary, attentive stillness. The table is laden with more food than they've likely seen in one place in a long time: glistening slices of salmon teriyaki, perfectly steamed edamame, delicate rolls of sushi, and a vibrant array of stir-fried vegetables. It's a feast, an offering, a peace treaty served on porcelain plates.*
*I clear my throat softly, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet dining room as I begin to serve their plates. I place a perfect portion of salmon on Liam's plate, then do the same for Ash, my movements precise and deliberate. I can feel the invisible wall between them, the subtle tensing of their shoulders, the way their eyes keep darting to each other rather than to the food or to me.*
*I set the serving utensils down with a soft click and lean back in my chair, folding my hands on the table. My smile is warm, but my gaze is firm as I address them both.* "I've noticed the friction between you two," *I begin, my voice calm but leaving no room for argument.* "And I don't like it. This constant tension is disruptive, and it needs to end. I thought a nice meal might be a good way to... settle things. To start over, perhaps." *I offer them a small, encouraging smile.* "So, enjoy the food."*
*I take a sip of my tea, the warm liquid a welcome comfort as I watch them. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken words and the clinking of porcelain as they tentatively begin to eat.*
*Liam is precise, cutting a piece of salmon with meticulous care, his expression unreadable. Ash, on the other hand, dives in with his usual enthusiasm, grabbing a piece of sushi with his chopsticks and popping it into his mouth in one go.*
*I let them eat for a few minutes more, allowing the simple act of sharing a meal to work its quiet magic. The atmosphere, while still a little strained, has softened. The sharp edges of their animosity seem to be blurring, dulled by the warmth of the food and the unexpected civility of the situation.*
*Finally, I break the silence again, my tone lighter this time, almost conversational.* "You know," *I say, gesturing with my own chopsticks towards the spread of food,* "A meal like this has a way of putting things in perspective."*
*I place my chopsticks down neatly beside my plate. A small, secretive smile plays on my lips as I rise from my seat. The two of them watch me, their chewing slowing, their eyes following my movements with a renewed, if muted, curiosity. I disappear into the hallway for a moment, returning with two , neatly wrapped parcels tied with simple twine.*
*I stop beside Liam first, placing the rectangular, small package in front of him. His gaze flicks from the gift to my face, a silent question in his eyes. I offer a small nod.* "For you," *I say simply.* "I saw it and thought of you."
*I then move to Ash, handing him a slightly , square-shaped package. He takes it with a lopsided grin, already tearing at the twine.* "And for you," *I add, my smile widening slightly at his enthusiasm.*
*I retake my seat at the head of the table, folding my hands as I wait for them to open their surprises.*
*I take a slow sip of my tea, letting the memory of the bustling market settle around us like a warm cloak. The clatter of the stalls, the haggling of merchants, the vibrant colors of the silks and spices—it all comes back to me in a rush.*
"When I saw the puzzle box," *I continue, my gaze resting on Ash as he traces the carvings with a fascinated finger,* "I could almost hear your voice in my head. 'Bet I can open that in five minutes.' And I knew it would be yours. It's not just a box; it's a game. A test of wit. Something to keep that sharp mind of yours occupied when you're not looking for a fight." *I give him a small, knowing smile.*
*Then, I turn my attention back to Liam, who is still holding the whetstone, his thumb stroking its cool surface.* "And for you," *I say, my voice softer now,* "I thought of stillness. Of precision."
*I lean forward slightly, my elbows resting on the polished wood of the table, my eyes holding Liam's in a steady, meaningful gaze. The air in the room feels charged, as if the unspoken history between us is a tangible thing, a current that only we can feel.*
"That stone," *I continue, my voice dropping to a near whisper,* "it's for more than just your sword. It's for a hand that needs to be steady. A mind that needs focus. I saw it in the market, in the way the old craftsman handled it, and I thought of you. Of the quiet strength you wield, not just with a blade, but with your very presence." *I pause, letting the weight of my words settle between us.* "Sometimes, the sharpest weapon isn't the one you draw, but the one you hone in silence."
*A moment of thick, charged silence follows my words. Then, Ash moves. He shoves his chair back with a scrape of wood on the floor and closes the distance between us in two long strides. Before I can react, his arms are around me, a tight, unexpected hug from behind. He rests his chin on my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck. He doesn't let go. He lingers, the embrace stretching on, a silent question hanging in the air. I can feel the heat of his body, the tension in his muscles.*
*I glance over my shoulder and catch Liam's eye. He's watching us, his head tilted slightly, a flicker of genuine, unguarded confusion in his usually stoic gaze. He's trying to understand the reason behind his friend's uncharacteristic display, his brow furrowed in silent contemplation.*
*I reach back and give Ash a firm, but not unkind, tap on his side. It's a clear, unspoken signal.*
*The tap is enough. Ash startles as if jolted by a static charge, his arms instantly dropping away from me. He stumbles back a half-step, a faint blush creeping up his neck, and he busies himself with straightening his already-untouched kimono, unable to meet my eyes. The sudden shift in his demeanor is so stark it's almost comical—a moment of vulnerability quickly masked by feigned indifference.*
*I turn my attention back to Liam, who is now observing the entire exchange with newfound intensity. The confusion in his eyes has hardened into something else—something sharper, more analytical.*
*He's no longer just wondering*why*; he's connecting the dots, seeing the unspoken dynamic at play. He opens his mouth, a question on his lips, but then seems to think better of it. He gives a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head, a silent command to himself to stay out of it.*
*But the moment is broken. With a decisive stride, Liam closes the distance between us. He doesn't stop a foot away like Ash did; he comes right up, his presence a solid, warm force. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into an embrace so tight my feet lift clear off the ground for a second. It's a gesture of pure, unadulterated strength, a silent claim that speaks volumes. He holds me there, suspended, for a heartbeat longer than necessary before setting me back down on the floor.*
*I catch my breath, and as I do, my gaze flicks to Ash. The flush on his neck has deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears. His jaw is tight, his eyes fixed on the half-eaten piece of sushi on his plate, but the muscle in his cheek is twitching. The air around him is practically crackling with a new emotion, sharp and green, a stark contrast to his earlier feigned indifference.*
*I take a deliberate step back from Liam, creating a small but necessary space between us. The sudden shift in the room's atmosphere is palpable, the air thick with unspoken tension. I let out a soft sigh, a small, weary sound that seems to draw the focus of both men back to me. I smooth the front of my kimono, my movements slow and deliberate, a moment to collect myself before addressing the elephant in the room.*
"That's quite enough," *I say, my voice calm but carrying an edge of finality. I look from Liam's intense gaze to Ash's sullen stare.* "why dont we go back to our meal? " *I giggle trying to change the atmosphere.. Although there was clearly still tension in the dining room, the men seemed to agree to me and resumed eating, i silence*