Astra pushed herself up, brushing off the dust, but when she glanced back, she noticed Dan struggling to stand. His legs trembled, his body giving way beneath the weight of his wounds.
"Sit," she said firmly, pressing a hand to his shoulder. He sank back down with a soft hiss of breath.
"You should go home," Dan murmured, voice quiet, eyes lowering. "It's late. Your family will be worried about you."
Astra hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yes… they'll probably be mad," she admitted with a sigh, "but I can't just leave you like this. If I explain the reason… maybe they'll understand."
Dan's eyes flicked to her, unreadable, but she didn't give him time to argue. Her gaze drifted to his arms, swollen and bleeding, and without a word she tore a strip from her own sleeve. Kneeling close, she bound the cloth gently around his wounds, tying it tight enough to hold but soft enough not to hurt.
"You too should get home soon," Astra said softly, crouching beside him. "Your family will be worried, especially your mother, if they see you like this."
Dan watched her quietly, then gave a small, almost reluctant nod. For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by the soft night breeze. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and halting, as though each word cost him something.
"There's no one else, Only me and my sister now." His eyes lowered, a shadow crossing his face. "My mother… She passed away when i was still a child."
Astra froze, her hands stilling over the cloth she was tying.
"After that," he continued, his voice thinner now, "My father… he committed a crime. They jailed him. He died there. And my sister… she's all I have left. But she's been mentally sick for a long time."
His hands clenched weakly in his lap. "Because of my father, no one in the capital will give me work. And even if they did… I'm not strong enough. Not in body, not in mind."
Astra swallowed hard, her chest tightening at the quiet resignation in his voice. She wanted to say something, anything but the words tangled in her throat.
Finally, she breathed out, "That's not true. You're stronger than you think—strong enough to endure everything until now. Strong enough to still protect your sister, even when the whole world turned its back." Her gaze lingered on him, steady, as if willing him to believe it.
"Strength isn't only in fists or muscles. Sometimes… it's just refusing to fall, no matter how many times they push you down."
———————
The palace was restless, shadows stretching long across the gilded pillars as anxious whispers swept through the Inner Hall. Ministers fidgeted. Guards stood rigid, awaiting orders.
At the heart of it, the Emperor sat upon the dragon-carved seat, his expression carved in stone. "Again," he muttered, voice edged with weariness. "The crown prince has slipped the nets again."
Before him knelt Daita, head lowered, his fists pressed tight to the floor.
"My fault, Your Majesty," Daita said hoarsely. "I should have anticipated—"
The Emperor cut him off with a sharp flick of his sleeve, the heavy silence louder than rebuke. His gaze turned inward, dark with something heavier than anger. "Of all times, he chooses now to escape…"
Daita's head lifted, just slightly, something flashing in his eyes. A thought, half-formed, dangerous to even voice but it slipped free. "…Is it because of the upcoming Bloom?"
The words hung in the chamber like a struck bell.
The Emperor's hand, poised on his wine cup, stilled. Slowly, deliberately, he set it down, the hollow chime of porcelain against jade echoing through the hall. A sigh escaped him, heavy with burden, but when he spoke his voice cut like steel.
"Find him. At once."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Daita bowed low, the weight of the order pressing into his spine, then rose and strode from the chamber. But the moment the heavy doors closed behind him, his composure shattered. His hands clawed through his hair, jaw tight, breath ragged.
"Ahhh—damn it!" he hissed, the words breaking out in a strangled groan. "I made a mistake…!"
——————
Meanwhile, Seirou dangled helplessly, suspended upside down by Ryoma's invisible grip, legs swaying pitifully in the cold wind. His hair kept brushing the stone floor as he twisted uselessly.
"Kaen!" he whined, voice strained. "Kaen, please—it's freezing! I can feel the blood rushing into my skull! I'm going to die upside down like some tragic radish!"
Kaen pinched the bridge of his nose. He had heard this kind of dramatics before.
Ryoma, however, remained unmoved. He didn't even blink.
Seirou continued flailing. "I'm begging you! My head is going numb! I can see the ancestors calling me!"
Ryoma's eyebrow twitched. Without a word, he flicked his fingers and Seirou began to swing.
Violently.
"AH—HEY—HEY HEY HEY—!!" Seirou yelped as he swung back and forth like a pendulum. "RYOMA!! This is abuse! Abuse of the weak! I'm delicate, you brute!"
"Shut up! You are noisy," Ryoma muttered.
"BECAUSE YOU'RE KILLING ME!"
Kaen slowly exhaled and stepped closer, pressing a calming hand on Ryoma's arm. "Ryoma… maybe we should let him speak without… shaking his brain out of place."
"Kaen!" he groaned, voice muffled by the blood rushing to his head. "It's too cold out here—at least tell him to let me down!"
Kaen's gaze flicked between Ryoma's thunderous expression and Seirou's pitiful state. He exhaled slowly. "Well… it would be simple if you just told us where she is. Right, Ryoma?"
Ryoma's eyes narrowed, hard as steel.
"What? How would I know?" Seirou protested, twisting against the invisible force that bound him. "You were there! She just shouted she was busy saving someone and ran off!"
Ryoma turned to Kaen, one brow arched.
Kaen rubbed his temple. "…I was meditating. I told you to watch her."
Ryoma's glare snapped back to Seirou.
Seirou winced, then sighed, his voice dropping. "Yes, but—"
"Enough… It's useless," Ryoma replied flatly, eyes locked on Seirou's upside-down panic. "Asking him never works."
Seirou gasped. "W-WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!"
Ryoma ignored him entirely. "Useless ones should be punished. Stay here all night. We will find a way." He turned sharply. "Kaen. Let's go."
"W-Wait! WAIT—!!" Seirou's voice cracked. "RYOMA! I APOLOGIZE FOR WHATEVER I DID IN THIS LIFE AND THE PREVIOUS NINE—!!"
Ryoma stepped closer, his tone low, final. "You won't be free until she returns."
With that, he turned on his heel, Kaen trailing behind with a weary glance. He looked back. Seirou's pleading eyes, watery and desperate, stared at him like a puppy.
Kaen sighed deeply. "…Fine. I'll tell someone to prepare hot soup since you're going to catch cold."
Seirou's jaw dropped. "WHAT GOOD IS SOUP WHEN I'M UPSIDE DOWN?!"
But Kaen had already hurried after Ryoma.
The courtyard fell silent.
Seirou hung there a moment longer, upside down and utterly miserable.
Then he closed his eyes… inhaled slowly… exhaled even slower.
"…enough of this."
Snap.
In an instant, his body flipped upright—simply rising and turning as effortlessly as a drifting leaf. His feet never touched the ground. He hovered there, arms crossing over his chest with an offended huff.
"That," he muttered to no one, "was unnecessarily harsh, Ryoma."
A beat.
A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips.
"Well then…" His eyes glinted. "Let's see who comes back first—her… or the storm that's chasing her."
Meanwhile,
Dan shifted slightly, his eyes flicking toward her. "You haven't told me your name," he said at last, voice quiet in the still night.
Astra, half-dozing, mumbled, "Uh? My name? What's my name? Oh… yes. Astra…"
He repeated it softly under his breath, testing the sound. "Astra…"
When he looked over again, she was already drifting, head bobbing slightly like a sleepy child on a swing. A chuckle slipped past his lips. Just as she tipped forward, about to tumble, his hand shot out, steadying her.
He sighed gently, shaking his head, and guided her to lean against the nearby pillar. For a moment, he just watched her, the moonlight soft on her face. Carefully, almost reverently, he brushed aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen over her eyes.
Then her lips moved faintly. Words, soft and muddled in dreams. He leaned closer, brow furrowing to catch them.
"…umm… dumpling… two pairs…please."
Dan blinked, then leaned back, a laugh escaping him, light and low. "Dumplings, huh?"
He settled against the opposite pillar, still smiling to himself, the quiet warmth of her presence lingering. His gaze stayed on her for a long moment, then he murmured something unexpected, almost as if confessing to the night:
"…one day, you'll curse yourself for falling asleep near the crown prince."