After satisfying her feline instincts, sha quickly reclaid its territory. Without even a mont to mourn her embarrassing behavior, Atalanta turned tail and fled, likely avoiding this shaless couple for quite so ti.
Sakatsuki tilted his head slightly. While he understood why Atalanta had run away, he couldn’t quite grasp her reasoning.
Wasn’t it just teasing a cat in passing? Even when friends visited, he’d never seen a house cat refuse to be petted.
—Sakatsuki, who had completely treated Atalanta like a pet cat, thought to himself.
As for Jeanne d’Arc, she interpreted Atalanta’s awkward behavior as an entirely different emotion. Believing she had exposed the deceitful act of "Tama-nyan" faking affection for pets and hugs, she felt triumphant, basking in her victory.
However, Tama-nyan’s appearance also gave Jeanne a sense of crisis. She turned to Sakatsuki and spoke up proactively:
"Sakatsuki, there’s a song—I wonder if you know how to play it?"
Looking at him expectantly, Jeanne ntioned the na of a lody passed down orally during her ti.
It’s worth noting that in the 15th century, pianos didn’t exist. The only instrunt available was the "clavichord," originating from Italy. The clavichord’s sound was far from ideal—weak in volu and monotonous in tone. It wasn’t until the 18th century when the German Cristofori improved it that the modern piano took shape.
Thanks to his extensive knowledge of music theory from his past life, Sakatsuki was sowhat familiar with the song Jeanne ntioned. However, he rely wore a slightly helpless expression and spread his hands.
"You know this instrunt’s history doesn’t overlap with your era, so..."
"I see." Jeanne sighed in disappointnt. But just then, Sakatsuki abruptly changed his tone:
"Of course, if you can hum the lody, I can play it for you."
"Really?" The girl blinked, eyeing him suspiciously—that faint smirk at the corner of his lips seed mischievous. "You’re not just trying to trick into singing for you, are you?"
"Fine, I’ll rephrase it." Unfazed, Sakatsuki calmly said:
"Dear Miss Jeanne, may I ask—would you sing a song for ?"
"..."
"What’s wrong?" The young man tilted his head in confusion, his gaze earnest as he looked at her.
anwhile, Jeanne clutched her flushed cheeks, turning her face away. Her athyst eyes darted about, betraying her flustered emotions.
"T-Too serious... How can you say that so shalessly...?"
"Is that so? But right now, I only want to hear you sing."
"Y-You’re teasing again!"
Their romantic cody unfolded unseen by others—except for one person hidden deep within the soul of an assassin, who was nearly laughing herself to death.
Unlike Artoria, who suppressed her emotions and knew nothing of romance, Jeanne—though equally inexperienced in love—hailed from romantic France. Even as a country girl, she couldn’t help but yearn for the sweet love depicted in storybooks, didn’t she?
Sakatsuki, who manifested as an Assassin, possessed an exceedingly straightforward personality while inheriting his original self’s extraordinary intelligence and emotional quotient—clearly, such a man could deliver devastatingly effective blows during the ambiguous courtship phase when romancing female companions.
Especially when the target was an inexperienced French maiden.
"If...if Sakatsuki sings along too, then I can..."
"Is that so? But shouldn’t I hear it at least once first?"
"Ah... right."
Just like that, Jeanne d’Arc was effortlessly led astray. Clearing her throat, she tentatively humd a few notes before beginning to sing.
It was a simple military ballad passed around during Christmas. Back then, Gilles de Rais had goaded everyone into dragging her—who had only heard the song a few tis—onto a makeshift stage, making her the laughingstock of the troops.
Refusing to accept defeat, she secretly practiced until she mastered the song during her spare ti. Just as she was brimming with determination to amaze everyone, the intensifying war made them miss the next Christmas.
By the third year, she had been captured, left to sing the song softly in her prison cell.
In the end, she never even got to see a Christmas tree before embracing the flas upon the cross, transforming into a white dove soaring across the sky.
mories slowly bled into the flowing lody of her song, and ti itself seed to favor her, etching the bygone days into the twilight’s embrace.
"Do~"
The piano’s notes rose, harmonizing seamlessly with Jeanne’s voice. At first, it was just a simple tune, but when Sakatsuki finally lifted his left hand and began playing in earnest, the battlefields Jeanne d’Arc had once traversed—the smoke of war, the songs, the hopes—unfolded like a scroll before them.
Jeanne’s eyes widened in disbelief. Entranced by the piano’s accompanint, she couldn’t help but lose herself in the mont.
Clasping her hands together instinctively, her voice beca celestial, her soul transcending the barriers of ti to converse with the comrades she had long lost.
Worry, concern, blessings... Jeanne heard the voices and hopes of her fellow soldiers. Just as she was about to respond, a beautiful baritone voice resounded, its lody materializing into a black-cloaked young man stepping into the illusion, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jeanne.
Fingers dancing across the keys, Sakatsuki closed his eyes and sang freely—like a large, steady hand enveloping a delicate one, like swans entwining their slender necks, like Christmas lights embracing the swirling snowflakes... Gradually, his voice and the maiden’s rged into one, mories distant, yet the song reaching even further.
Not far away, Atalanta watched the two figures now reduced to silhouettes. Her beastly ears drooped as she let out a soft huff, turning away with resolute steps. As she did, she brushed past a silver-haired, red-eyed homunculus girl.
Preoccupied with her own thoughts, Sieg failed to notice Atalanta’s expression. When she reached the doorway, the sounds of piano and singing greeted her.
Slowing her movents, Sieg gently pushed open the door. The golden hues of dusk flooded in, dyeing her eyes a resplendent crimson-gold.
"Wow..."
An involuntary, breathless gasp escaped her lips. Before Sieg’s eyes lay a scene that embodied all things beautiful.
The black robe swayed as the tall young man sat upright by the piano, playing with a smile on his lips. anwhile, the golden-haired saint rested her hands on the instrunt, humming a pure lody with adorable obedience, her loving gaze never leaving her beloved for even a mont.
It was a beautiful scene—one that could heal even pain, war, and suffering.
As the music ended, Jeanne d’Arc’s face flushed red, and she scurried to crouch in the corner. Sakatsuki closed the piano lid and turned toward Sieg at the doorway, traces of lingering amusent still on his face.
"Co in, Sieg. What brings you here?"
He had noticed the homunculus girl at the door long ago—Jeanne must have as well.
Sohow, inexplicably, how had their relationship reached this point?
His mind wandered to unrelated thoughts as Sieg stood before him, the day’s sights flooding back to tornt her spirit.
"Please help ... Teacher. I... I don’t know what to do anymore."
Reviews
All reviews (0)