Wait, What You Mean I Got Reincarnated As A Heroine In Another World? Chapter 84 - 71 - Inquisitiveness

"How do I use that energy?"

Oh, right...

A simple question, but that’s precisely what I should have been thinking about all along. My mind had been so fixated on the imdiate danger, on Selene’s volatile state, that the practicality of the Nakanarian necklace itself had completely slipped my grasp.

It was a glaring oversight, a sign that even with all my supposed intellect, I could still be remarkably dense when faced with overwhelming circumstances.

Honestly, my knowledge of this necklace isn’t as much.

From what I’ve known, it’s an artifact steeped in ancient lore, whispered about in hushed tones among a select few scholars and practitioners of healing magic.

Most of what I’d gleaned about it ca from fragnted texts and Selene’s own cryptic explanations. What I knew for sure, with absolute certainty, was its primary function: it could channel healing magic. But how to activate it, to direct its potent energy, to truly wield its power? That remained a perplexing mystery.

I learned about it when I—accidentally—got trapped in Selene’s Void Rifter. It was a harrowing experience, one that pushed my understanding of reality to its limits. Specifically, it was during the frantic monts when I was desperately analyzing the anomaly in her body, trying to stabilize her runaway powers.

In that chaotic maelstrom of raw energy and desperate analysis, a crucial insight clicked into place. From that, I realized that the necklace wasn’t rely a reservoir, a static container of stored energy.

No, it was sothing far more intricate, sothing alive and responsive. It was like a resonance: not just storing energy, but also actively flowing it through intimacy... a kind of personal connection.

The deeper the bond, the more freely the energy flowed. It was a revelation that both fascinated and unnerved .

"To be precise, I don’t really know," I answered honestly, feeling a wave of inadequacy wash over .

Azalea’s expectant gaze was fixed on , and I couldn’t bring myself to feign expertise I didn’t possess.

"But if it’s Selene, she’d definitely know." Selene, after all, was inextricably linked to the necklace, almost a part of its very essence.

If anyone understood its true chanism, it would be her.

"You’re really too honest about your feelings for her, aren’t you? Hmph."

Azalea’s voice was tinged with a distinct note of irritation, her brow furrowed into a slight pout.

Well, she’s pouting. And it’s undeniably cute, even in her frustration.

Oh no, what now?

My internal monologue was a cacophony of panicked thoughts.

I should be cheering her up, reassuring her, making her feel valued. But... I’m still awkward. So incredibly awkward in these situations. My social graces, usually passable in a crisis, completely deserted when faced with raw emotions.

Maybe it’s the fact that even though we’ve talked and interacted for quite a while, sharing intense monts and navigating perilous situations together, the sheer volu of ti I’ve spent with Selene far outweighed my interactions with Azalea.

That’s a undeniable fact, a truth etched into the very fabric of our shared experiences, and I can’t fake it. It hung unspoken between us, a silent, almost palpable presence.

But Azalea is still here—and I realize she’s also trying to get closer to , in her own unique way. She was making an effort, and I was acutely aware of it. The least I could do was try to reciprocate, even if my attempts were clumsy and unrefined.

Without much thought, acting purely on instinct, my hand went up. I positioned it carefully, deliberately, so it would gently touch her cheek. I

recalled a tidbit from so obscure dical research I’d once stumbled upon; it claid that gentle, non-threatening physical contact like this could actually trigger feelings of comfort and relaxation, releasing beneficial neurochemicals in the brain.

It was a long shot, but I was desperate to alleviate her distress.

Huh?

The mont my skin connected with her cheek, a soft, almost imperceptible tremor went through her. She didn’t pull away; instead, she reflexively rubbed her cheek against my palm. It was a delicate, almost feline motion. Softly. There was even a subtle, almost inaudible purring sound that seed to emanate from her, a low, contented hum.

Like a cat... My mind imdiately conjured the image of a contented feline, seeking affection. It was an oddly endearing comparison, one that made my chest feel a little warm.

"Your hand is warm, Kairi," she whispered, her voice barely audible, a fragile thread of sound. Then, her hand, with an almost agonizing slowness, reached up and gently held mine. Her fingers intertwined with mine, a silent affirmation of her trust.

O-Oh my... god... why does this feel... kind of lewd?

My heart hamred against my ribs, a chaotic drumbeat in my chest.

A blush, hot and undeniable, crept up my neck and spread across my face.

It’s just a handhold, and yet my heart’s going completely haywire.

Ugh, Kairi... you’ve been through way worse than this, and now you’re blushing just from sothing like this?

My inner critic, ever present, chided rcilessly.

I had faced down Selene’s wilderness, even embracing each other in an extrely intimate manner and yet a simple handhold was enough to send into a flurry of adolescent embarrassnt.

It was ridiculous.

But perhaps, Azalea also felt the sa way. I risked a glance at her, and my breath hitched. I saw her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, mirroring my own embarrassnt. Her gaze, instead of eting mine, was fixed sowhere beyond my shoulder, a clear sign of her own discomfort.

What’s more, she didn’t loosen her grip; instead, she gripped my hand even tighter, as if seeking an anchor in the swirling tides of her own emotions.

Wait. Don’t tell she also...

A new thought, both startling and intriguing, began to form in my mind. Could it be that her feelings for were... evolving beyond simple friendship?

A question erged in my mind. One that should perhaps not be asked.

Taboo. Impolite.

Borderline disrespectful.

But the curiosity, fueled by the subtle shift in our interaction, was overwhelming.

My filter, already thin at the best of tis, completely dissolved. I had to know.

"Azalea, have you ever... done that?"

She frowned, her eyes wide with a genuine, almost childlike confusion.

"Uh, pardon ?"

Her innocent query was a stark contrast to the burgeoning implications of my own question.

Oh my god. Is this girl seriously this innocent or just pretending?

My exasperation warred with a growing sense of amusent. She couldn’t possibly be that naive, could she? Or was this a masterful act of feigned ignorance?