We remained intertwined for a mont, an almost tangible silence filling the room. My shirt, haphazardly unbuttoned, revealed the scars scattered across my body, each one a testant to past hardships. The heavy quietude lingered.
“…”
Irene looked down at , her gaze fixed on the scars that left hardly an inch of my skin untouched. Each cut, burn, and stitch spoke volus about the painful history I carried. I finally broke the silence.
“You saw it after all.”
A brief question. Irene nodded quietly.
“Yes… I noticed when I was changing your wet clothes.”
“It was an important secret.”
“So this is why you always insist on wearing that stifling suit, even in the sumr. It covers the scars.”
“You found out.”
I admitted it with a bitter smile. Suddenly, Irene’s hand moved, resting on my chest. The warmth of her touch traced over the scars, her black eyes trembling slightly as she kept looking at .
“What happened to you?”
“…”
“Is this a secret too?”
“…”
I didn’t respond, remaining silent instead. We stayed locked in that tense mont, so close that I could feel her breath. With my half-unbuttoned shirt pressed between us, the soft sensation of her skin t mine, binding us in shared warmth. Minutes passed before Irene finally pulled away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t an to press you.”
Her voice was soft, almost apologetic. She slowly withdrew from where she had been leaning against , her animal-like ears drooping as she revealed her conflicted emotions.
“It’s just… it feels stifling.”
“…”
“You know so much about , even things I’ve never shared. But I barely know anything about you.”
Her expression was a mix of emotions.
“It feels like I was being unreasonable. Just forget about it.”
She muttered to herself, shifting under the blanket before resting her head on my arm, closing the space between us once again. The subtle scent of her skin reached as she nestled closer.
“Now that I think about it… I’ve never really told you my story either. Would you like to hear it?”
“What kind of story?”
“The parts of my past that I kept hidden.”
“I already know most of it.”
“Hearing it from would be different, both in content and in aning.”
“I suppose that’s true. I’d be glad to listen.”
I stayed silent and attentive. Even if I already knew, hearing her story firsthand held deeper significance—it ant she trusted enough to share those hidden parts of herself.
“It’s not a happy story.”
Her eyes reflected mories of the past. After a brief silence, she began to speak.
“The village where I grew up was a quiet, secluded place. Our kind often beca targets for humans, so we hid away in peaceful corners.”
The story didn’t deviate much from what I knew. A humble but happy village filled with warmth and camaraderie, where a young girl grew up safe. But tragedy often strikes without warning.
Irene was three years younger when it happened.
“Greetings, everyone. I’m a small business owner from the capital.”
A man ca to the village, bearing gifts and offering his warst greetings.
“I happened to co by this village for work. I hope we can all get along well.”
The simple townsfolk, cautious at first, eventually fell for his continuous kindness over the months. Soon enough, he beca a part of the community.
And that was when the nightmare began.
“Capture them all! Leave no one behind!”
“Erase all evidence! Drag out any hidden ones, and burn everything that remains!”
They should have known better. Humans were cunning creatures. The smiles they shared were replaced with greed in their eyes. That treachery devoured the foxes.
It was a pitiful end.
The village burned, adults died, and children were taken as slaves. Irene stood amid the chaos, the corners of her mouth curving in a pained smile.
“My ntor stayed behind in the burning village. He wanted to escape with my siblings.”
Her voice was calm, almost lifeless, as she recounted the story.
“But I failed. We didn’t get far before the Hounds caught us.”
It was clearly her most painful mory. Her delicate brow furrowed, perhaps recalling the mont she was forced to her knees before her crying siblings. She bit her lip before finishing her tale.
“After that, we were caged. Until the day I t you at the auction.”
“I see.”
“It might have been a bit long-winded.”
“Not at all. I’m just worried. Are you okay, Miss Irene?”
“There’s no reason I wouldn’t be.”
A soft reply followed.
“Still, I sotis wonder…”
“Wonder what?”
“If things would have been different if I were smarter, cunning enough to distrust humans, or strong enough to not be overpowered. Maybe then, I could have protected those I loved.”
“…”
She had carried the weight alone, shouldering the guilt from that day, tornted by a relentless sense of responsibility simply because she had survived.
“Sotis, it feels like it’s all my fault.”
“…”
It was a foolish thought. Yet I understood it. Even knowing it wasn’t one’s fault, people would still crumble under self-bla. I knew her pain because I had felt it too, in my past life, years ago, perhaps even now.
“Brother! Play with !”
An echo of the past whispered in my ear, and I pushed the mories away. Turning to the side, I t Irene’s black eyes staring back at . We lay face to face. I reached out, gently touching her pale cheek shrouded in darkness.
“Miss Irene.”
A nightmare that had tornted her for so long. Even if I couldn’t take it away, there was one thing I needed to say.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
There was no one to say that to in the past. I was alone. So, I believed all the tragedies were my doing. It took ti for to realize otherwise.
“Grieve the misfortune if you must, but don’t turn that into self-loathing.”
What people suffering most needed wasn’t a mountain of pills, but a warm word of comfort.
“Otherwise, you can’t move forward.”
“…”
Irene’s expression was blank. Her black eyes wavered as if struggling to find a response, before a faint smile appeared. She leaned into , moving into my embrace.
“You’re attentive in the strangest ways.”
“Was that unwelco advice?”
“No… it’s just surprising. You’re the first to tell it wasn’t my fault.”
“Because there probably wasn’t anyone else who could.”
“That’s true too.”
We stayed there, unmoving, as if ti had stopped. Our lips were so close that they might touch at any mont. In that delicate space, our breaths mingled. Her eyes reflected only as she spoke.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Hm?”
“I want to join your organization.”
“Organization… You an Astro?”
“Yes.”
What had changed? She’d always seed indifferent, yet here she was, expressing her intent. She added an explanation.
“I’ve been staying by your side as a servant. If I’m going to continue supporting you, I want to do so with a more formal reason.”
“Developed so loyalty, have you?”
“Sothing like that.”
“It’s not a bad idea. Like it or not, we’re bound to work together for the next three years. I was planning to suggest it at so point.”
“So you’re saying yes?”
“Gladly.”
I replied with a grin and extended my pinky. Given the setting, a simplified initiation would suffice. Without hesitation, Irene wrapped her pinky around mine.
Then—
A thread of mana glimred, weaving between our fingers in a blue glow. As the light spread softly, I spoke.
“Everything changes from now.”
Taming ant forming a bond, creating a unique relationship. From now on, she would be my only one in this world, and I, hers. I whispered the words that defined our future.
“The only one for each other.”
The intertwining thread of mana settled into a clear knot. I lowered my head slightly, eting the fox just below, our foreheads touching. Feeling the warmth shared between us, I smiled.
“I look forward to working with you.”
“ too.”
Irene replied softly, the blue mana glow radiating around us, casting a brilliant light in the dark dawn. Holding hands, we fell asleep, awaiting the new day. It was a serene night.
---
anwhile, in the Empire’s underworld.
“…”
Naless bowed, one knee bent, before a throne shrouded in darkness. The room reeked of blood. Silence enveloped them until a voice cut through.
“So… you returned after breaking the alliance?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Naless replied. The shadow on the throne let out a low, nacing laugh.
“This alliance was important… our relationship with the businessman will deteriorate significantly now.”
“I accept any punishnt for my failure.”
“Even if it ans death?”
“If that is Your Majesty’s will, then I will accept it.”
Naless’s voice held no hesitation. The shadow watching him burst into a pleased laugh.
“Don’t worry. I was rely teasing.”
“I am grateful for your rcy.”
“I can’t discard such a loyal subordinate. We didn’t need that alliance to begin with.”
The shadow stroked its chin.
“Still, I didn’t expect the Serpent to move. It’s been a year since their whereabouts were unknown.”
“They were as formidable as ever.”
“Of course. This is the being who brought down a kingdom. It would be disappointing if they had weakened
in just a year.”
“The heart-bound contract… Because of it, I missed the chance to act.”
“It was calculated from the mont they boarded the ship. Using your inability to attack was clever. A truly cunning villain.”
“What will you do now?”
“Hmm.”
Naless’s question prompted a sinister smile from the shadow-hidden lips.
“Yes… I’d like to see that face again.”
The shadow murmured, the dark ambiance thick with ominous intent.
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