The afternoon sun was still bright and warm as we finally left the café, though it had shifted lower in the sky. We walked slowly back through the streets, neither of us in any rush to end our time together.
"I should head back soon," Ryuu said reluctantly as we reached a familiar intersection. " I have some plans with Ardee, later."
"Oh, right. She mentioned wanting to go on a dungeon expedition with everyone." I smiled. "Maybe I should invite her along next time I'm diving. She'd probably enjoy that."
"That would surely make her happy," Ryuu said warmly. "She's been wanting to spend more time adventuring with everyone," She nodded, but didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she looked up at me, seeming content just to stand there a moment longer.
"Ryuu... today was wonderful. Thank you for spending time with me."
Her face flushed pink. "I... I enjoyed it too."
We stood there, both of us knowing we should part ways but neither wanting to be the first to let go. Finally, I gently lifted our joined hands and pressed a soft kiss to the back of hers.
"I'll see you soon?" I asked softly.
Ryuu's face turned bright red, and she could only manage a small nod, her voice seemingly having abandoned her completely. I smiled and released her hand, though not before giving it one last gentle squeeze.
"Get back safely," I said.
"Y-You too," she managed to whisper, still looking completely flustered.
She stood there for some time, as if her feet had forgotten how to move, before finally turning and walking away. She glanced back once, twice, three times, each time with that same shy expression that made my heart skip.
I watched until she disappeared around a corner, then let out a contented sigh. "Yeah, that was definitely worth Loki's wrath this morning," I said, looking at the sun's position. "There is plenty of time till my scheduled meeting with Asfi.
I had a few hours to kill before then. Maybe I should grab something to eat that wasn't just dessert, or perhaps take a walk around the city. Or I could head back to the manor and face Loki's wrath again...
On second thought, maybe I'd take that walk.
____________________________________________________________________________
A few hours later, I found myself standing in front of the Hermes Familia home, a modest but well-maintained building that somehow looked both welcoming and mysterious—very fitting for the god of travelers.
I entered the Traveler's Inn and headed down the corridor toward the workshop. A familiar high-pitched voice called out from behind.
"Yo! Arin!" A girl with ash blonde hair appeared from behind me, her hand waving animatedly as she draped her other arm around my shoulders. "I knew you were a dangerous guy, but I never thought you had the guts to confess!" She leaned close, "I really missed a lot of entertainment because of being drunk yesterday!"
I sighed, recognizing the energetic troublemaker immediately. "Hello, Lydia."
"Don't 'hello Lydia' me!" She tightened her grip on my shoulders, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "You confessed to FOUR girls! Four! And they all said yes! Do you have any idea how absolutely CRAZY that is?! That's like... that's like trying to juggle four flaming swords while riding a wyvern! Actually, scratch that—this is HARDER!"
"I'm getting a pretty good idea, considering Loki tried to kill me with a fork this morning."
"Oh, I heard about that!" Lydia laughed, completely unrepentant. "The whole familia's been talking about it. Apparently, she was screaming so loud that people three buildings away could hear her."
"Yes, just what I wanted to hear, I guess," I muttered. "But how the heck do you get that news so fast?"
"News travels fast, especially when it involves the infamous Astralis becoming Orario's most ambitious romantic." She released my shoulders only to poke me in the chest. "Seriously, though, I can't believe you actually did it. I knew you were interested in them, but I thought you'd chicken out for sure."
"Your faith in me is truly inspiring," I said with exaggerated flatness.
"Hey, I'm just being honest! Most guys would've picked one and called it a day. But you?" She grinned wider. "You went for broke. Gotta respect the audacity, even if it is completely insane."
"Is there a point to this conversation, or are you just here to mock me?"
"Can't it be both?" She tilted her head innocently. "But fine, fine. I actually wanted to congratulate you. And warn you."
"Warn me?"
"Yeah." Her expression turned slightly more serious, though the mischief never fully left her eyes. "Not everyone is happy about this news, you know, especially the elves,"
"Let me guess. The high-and-mighty types?"
"Exactly those types." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "They won't do anything overt—too concerned with propriety and all that. But if their king decides you're a problem?" She made a throat-cutting gesture. "They'll move without hesitation."
My expression hardened. "Let them try."
"Oh?" Lydia tilted her head, genuinely curious now. "That's a dangerous tone."
"I'm not giving them up. Not for politics, not for tradition, not for some king who thinks bloodlines matter more than choices." I met her eyes. "And more importantly, Riveria, Ryuu, Ais, and Asfi, they don't need anyone making decisions for them. They're perfectly capable of choosing their own paths."
I paused, then added quietly, "If the elves or elven royalty have a problem with that, they can take it up with me directly. I'll handle whatever consequences come."
Lydia studied me for a long moment, her usual mischief fading into something more serious. Then she grinned—not her usual playful smirk, but something genuinely approving. "You know what? I think those girls chose well."
"Choose well?"
"Yeah. You're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, but either way," She grinned. "It's going to be entertaining to watch." She said before bursting into a hearty laugh, "Don't worry, though, as I said, they won't act out of line easily."
"Anyway, you should probably get going. Don't want to keep her waiting, she hates that. Well, she hates it when Hermes and I do it. With you, she might be more forgiving." She winked and started walking away. "Good luck, Casanova!"
"I'm not—she's already gone," I sighed, watching Lydia disappear around a corner, her laughter echoing through the hallway.
I continued toward the workshop, already putting her warning behind me, as I reached the workshop door, knocked twice, and entered without waiting for a response.
I opened the door to find Asfi at her workbench, meticulously arranging various pieces of equipment in precise rows. Her blue hair softly framed her face, and she'd removed her outer jacket, leaving her in a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.
She looked up as I entered, and a small smile crossed her face. "Arin. You're here."
"Right on time," I said, closing the door behind me.
"That's good," she said, color rising in her face. She set down the tool she'd been holding. "Did Lydia bother you on your way here?"
"She gave me her usual commentary," I said with a chuckle. "But how did you know?"
"She had been lurking around the hallway all morning," Asfi replied, then paused, her eyes focusing on something. She tilted her head slightly, studying me with that analytical gaze she usually reserved for equipment malfunctions.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
Instead of answering, she stepped around the workbench and moved closer. Without warning, she reached up, her fingers gently brushing through my hair, pushing my bangs aside.
Our eyes met.
Her hand froze mid-motion, and I watched color flood her cheeks. She blinked, then quickly looked away, but didn't pull her hand back.
"Your hair is too long," she said, "When was the last time you got it cut?"
"Uh... a few weeks ago? Maybe longer?" I replied, trying to remember.
"Definitely longer." She finally withdrew her hand, crossing her arms. "You're going to keep procrastinating about this, aren't you?"
"I've been busy—"
"Everyone's busy."
"No, I really was busy."
"That's not an excuse." She turned and walked toward a storage cabinet. "Come here. Sit in that chair."
"Asfi, what are you—"
"I'm giving you a haircut," she stated matter-of-factly, pulling out a small case. "Consider it preventative maintenance, I can't have my item making partner getting injured because hair got in his eyes during a critical moment."
The practical excuse didn't quite hide the slight embarrassment still coloring her cheeks.
I couldn't help but smile as I sat down. "Alright, if you insist."
"I do." She opened the case, revealing professional scissors and combs. She stepped behind me. I felt her fingers touch my hair, tentative at first, then threading through the strands more confidently. Her touch was gentle, almost exploratory, as if testing texture. "...Your hair is so soft," she murmured, almost to herself. "And smooth..."
Before I could respond, her hands slid down to my shoulders, then forward to clasp at my chest. Her cheek came to rest against the top of my head.
She took a breath. Then another. Like she was breathing me in.
My own breath caught.
"Asfi…?" I called but received no reply. Just the warmth of her pressed against me, the slight tremor in her hands where they held me.
My heart thundered against where her palms rested. Could she feel it? The way my pulse raced from this unexpected intimacy? The moment stretched on until a mischievous thought crossed my mind.
If she's going to catch me off guard like this...
Moving carefully, I reached up and gently caught her hands where they rested against my chest. Before she could react, I stood up from the chair, turned around, and guided her to sit down instead.
"A-Arin?! What are you—" Her eyes widened behind her glasses, face flushing an even deeper red.
I didn't let go of her hands. Instead, I knelt down in front of the chair so we were at eye level, giving her a teasing smile. "Payback for startling me like that. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, you know."
"I-I didn't mean to—!" She tried to pull her hands back, but I held them tightly and gently.
I held them gently but firmly. "You can't ambush someone like that and expect no retaliation," I said, my tone light and playful. "What happened to the composed, professional Perseus I know?"
"She's still here!" Asfi protested, though the bright blush on her face and the way she couldn't quite meet my eyes suggested otherwise. "I was simply... your hair was in the way and I needed to check the length for safety purposes!"
"Safety purposes."
"Exactly!"
"By hugging me from behind."
"I wasn't HUGGING—" She stopped, realizing she was digging herself deeper. Her glare intensified. "And stop grinning like you've won something!"
"Haven't I?" I asked innocently.
"Absolutely not! This is completely inappropriate. We're supposed to be discussing equipment modifications, not... not..."
"Not holding hands?" I suggested, giving her hands a gentle squeeze.
She went even redder. "Exactly! This is a workspace, Arin. We should maintain some semblance of professionalism."
"You were the one who started it," I pointed out. "Hugging me from behind like that."
"I was conducting a practical assessment!"
"Of my hair's huggability?"
She made a strangled sound of frustration. "That's not even a word!"
"But you're not denying it was a hug."
"I—you—" She threw her hands up. "Fine! Yes! I wanted to—to be close for a moment! Are you happy now?!"
The admission seemed to surprise even her. She immediately looked away, face burning.
My teasing smile softened. "Actually? Yeah. I am."
She huffed, finally managing to compose herself somewhat. "Are you quite finished?"
"For now," I said, standing and gesturing to the chair with exaggerated courtesy. "Your Highness."
"Don't call me that." But she stood, and when she passed me to position herself behind the chair again, her fingers briefly squeezed mine. "Now sit," she commanded, pointing firmly at the chair. "And this time, let me actually cut your hair without any more... diversions."
"Yes, ma'am." I sat down obediently. She stepped behind me again, and I felt her fingers in my hair once more, though this time she seemed more focused on actually cutting it. There was a brief silence, just the soft snip of scissors, before she spoke again.
"Your hair really is ridiculously soft," she murmured, almost grudgingly. "It's unfair, actually. What do you even do to it?"
"Nothing special. Just wash it?"
"Figures," she muttered. "Of course it's natural."
I grinned. Seems like I wasn't the only one having trouble staying professional after all.