Inside the tent, silence breathed like a second skin. The fabric walls shifted gently with the night wind, lantern light flickering across the taut canvas like the heartbeat of something ancient and waiting.
Kaen sat cross-legged at the center, fingers poised in a precise mudra against his chest. His breathing was steady, deep each exhale echoing faintly in the space around him.
Then—movement.
A soft pulse of energy shimmered at his fingertips, spiraling outward in faint glowing threads. The light curled gracefully through the air, coalescing into the form of a translucent lotus, its petals delicate, radiant, alive with warmth.
It hovered for a moment, suspended between realms, before dissolving in a single breath and sinking into his chest.
Kaen's eyes fluttered open. A quiet golden gleam lingered in them calm, focused, but burdened.
He turned slowly.
Across from him, Ryoma sat still, his gaze locked on the red ribbon bead wound between his fingers. His thumb moved in slow, unconscious circles over it—over and over as if searching for something that wasn't there.
Tension folded into every line of his body. His brows were drawn low, jaw tight, breath shallow.
"…Ryoma?" Kaen's voice was soft, hesitant.
No response.
Kaen tilted his head, watching him more carefully now. The silence stretched, uncomfortable. So he raised his voice slightly not in irritation, but concern.
"Ryoma. Are you listening?"
The bead stopped turning.
Ryoma flinched slightly at Kaen's voice. His eyes snapped up, sharp with fatigue but clear. He gave a small nod.
Kaen watched him closely, then leaned back with a quiet exhale. The lotus glow had faded from his chest, but a faint shimmer still lingered in the air around him.
"…Ryoma," Kaen said gently, "I know what's spinning in that head of yours. But I'm telling you—let it rest. Just for a while. You've done nothing all day but twist that ribbon and looking possessed."
He pointed at the ribbon bead still clenched in Ryoma's hand.
"Try to stay calm."
Ryoma's lips thinned. His reply came fast, sharp, and cold.
"Kaen, I can't be calm when the situation isn't."
He shot to his feet, tension rippling down his back like a drawn bow.
"You clearly know how dangerous this is, yet you won't let me go out and search for her. So here we are—stuck with those fools!" He gestured toward the tent entrance with a flick of frustration.
"Especially that commander, Zhou. He won't stop hovering around and asking about the attack over and over. If he does it again—I'll lose it. I might actually kill them all."
Kaen brought a hand to his face and sighed deeply. "Ryoma, control your anger." He looked up, voice slightly more pointed. "You're supposed to be ice, not fire."
Ryoma froze. His expression cracked just a little and his eyes narrowed. "…Then maybe the ice is melting."
Kaen stared for a moment, then let out a snort. "well, try not to flood the whole tent while you're at it."
Ryoma rolled his eyes but sank back down onto the mat, his fingers still twitching.
The silence between them stretched. Then Ryoma spoke again, voice low, edged with something heavier.
"I know why you're so calm." He looked over, accusingly.
He clenched the ribbon between his fingers.. It's because of—."
"Akira! Just where are you now!"
From outside the tent, voices stirred.
"Seventh Prince, you should address him as Crown Prince. It's against the rules to speak otherwise in public."
Ryoma groaned, dragging a hand down his face in utter exasperation. "Here they come again…"
"Commander Zhou, do you think I care about that right now?! He disappeared again! His Majesty will be furious! How can he abandon the mission and vanish like this?!" His voice cracked with frustration. "It's almost been an entire day since he went missing!"
"I don't think the Crown Prince would do something reckless, not when he knows what's at stake. There must be something else."
Ryoma stood up again, storming toward the tent flap. Kaen shook his head and stood, brushing off his robes. He stepped out of the tent into the tense air, where a small gathering had formed.
"Right?!" he suddenly shouted, leaping to his feet. He began pacing back and forth like a storm bottled inside a man. "There's something else. He wouldn't just run off. I mean, I still doubt him—but this time? No." He whirled to face Zhou, eyes burning. "Commander Zhou, do you think he's in trouble? Or maybe… maybe he's fighting that demon alone?"
Zhou blinked, startled by Daita's intensity, and took an instinctive step back. "Ah, Seventh Prince… can you give your brain a break?"He huffed. "Why does it always run like a storm with no direction?"
Daita stepped back, running both hands through his hair, pacing in agitated circles. He muttered under his breath, "He better not be doing something stupid again. If he is, I swear I'll—"
Behind him, the group of cultivators meditating in a neat line exchanged tired glances.
"…Did Commander forget," one whispered dryly, "that Senior is literally a storm?"
"Yeah," another murmured, eyes still shut, "he doesn't stop. Especially when it's about His Highness."
A younger disciple tilted his head. "Really?"
"You're new, huh?" came a soft chuckle. "You don't know it yet, but Senior only ever had one friend. His cousin—the Crown Prince. He's been glued to his side since they were kids. Gets real overprotective."
"Overprotective?" a fourth leaned in, whispering low, "I heard he gets jealous too. Hates it when the Crown Prince shows favor to anyone else."
A fifth one added with a conspiratorial tone, "And there's a rumor he—"
"Shhh!" hissed the lead slayer. "He's got sharp ears! Want to get your head iced off? Focus!"
Instantly, they all sat straight, faces composed, feigning deep meditation again.
Meanwhile, Daita was still circling like a hawk over a battlefield.
"Ryoma," Kaen hissed quietly under his breath, "don't say that."
Finally, Daita's restless pacing slowed as his gaze landed on Kaen, who stood outside the tent, a faint glow still lingering in the air around him. His eyes narrowed, then lit up with realization. He marched over, eyebrows raised.
"Oh? You look better now!" he said, a faint, satisfied smile forming as he approached.
Kaen gave a soft smile in return. "Yes, thanks to you. Your mechanical combinations helped me heal faster."
Daita tilted his head, thinking. "Hmm… that's right. It worked faster than I expected. Usually takes a week, but you're up in a day." He folded his arms, smug. "Guess I've improved."
"Or maybe he just has unnaturally strong recovery," Ryoma muttered, arms crossed.
Kaen shot him a sharp glance. Ryoma rolled his eyes and turned away, feigning innocence.
Daita nodded. "Could be that, too. No way a normal dose could work that fast unless your body's… built different."
Kaen gave a half-nod, not disagreeing.
Daita blinked. "Oh—wait! I almost forgot."
He rummaged through the sleeves of his robe, muttering to himself, and finally pulled out a slightly bruised apple. With a casual gesture, he held it out toward Kaen. "Here. For you."
Kaen blinked, surprised. His hands instinctively took it, but his eyes flicked to Ryoma, who looked just as baffled.
"…Why? Do you hate apples or something?" Daita tilted his head.
Ryoma huffed, answering instead. "It's the opposite. He loves them. A day doesn't pass without one."
"Then it's good I brought one," Daita said, tucking his hands behind his back with a grin. "You looked like an apple when I saw you earlier—wearing all red. Even your eyes… they're like embers." His gaze briefly met Kaen's, who, for a moment, seemed too focused on the apple to respond.
"If you want more, I can give you."
Kaen shook his head, a quiet smile forming. "No… one is enough, I guess."
Daita nodded and turned to walk away, his red robe catching the breeze. From behind, Commander Zhou groaned, rubbing his temple. "Seventh Prince… You still carry apples in your sleeves like that?"
Daita glanced over his shoulder without slowing. "You ask like it's new. You already know why."
Zhou let out a long sigh as Daita disappeared into the encampment, whistling quietly.
Kaen took one last glance at Daita's retreating figure, then down at the apple resting in his hand. A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he brought it to his mouth and took a bite.
Crunch.
Ryoma, still watching from the side, raised an eyebrow. He folded his arms, narrowing his gaze.
"Should I be worried now?"
He stepped a little closer, tilting his head. "You're not planning to leave us in exchange for an apple… right?"
Kaen choked slightly, coughed once, and quickly turned his head away to compose himself. "…It was a good apple," he muttered under his breath.
Ryoma scoffed. "Say it. You actually missed this, didn't you?" He started heading back toward the tent. "I'll go inside. You can have your moment alone—with your fruit. And don't bother pretending. I know you."
Kaen chuckled softly, eyes following him until he disappeared through the flap. He exhaled, slow and steady, the cool breeze catching in his crimson robes.
Then, lifting the apple again, he took another bite.
"…I do miss this."