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==="Because... he was someone I once wanted to become."
"...Once?"
Sylphiette tilted her head slightly, glancing past Isolte's shoulder toward the guest room door.
Beyond that door was the person they were discussing.
"Him and Teacher were both people I admired. But after coming to Roa and experiencing so many things, I realized..."
"If I kept clinging to that admiration, I'd only grow further and further away from them."
"Allen and Teacher are truly exceptional, but their adventuring party doesn't need another person just like them. If I kept imitating them, I'd never stand beside them as an equal. And they never once expected that from me—they just kept comforting and encouraging me."
"They always wanted me to be myself. So..."
"I don't want to become anyone else."
"I just need to be Sylphiette."
The words flowed out effortlessly, filling the quiet of the guest room. These were things she could never say to Roxy or Allen—because it was an unspoken understanding between them, a result of their indulgence and affection. She didn't need to "seek credit" or "prove her worth" anymore.
There was no point.
Because she was already part of their "adventuring party."
Yet, for some reason, facing Isolte now, the words spilled out naturally—confident and unhesitant.
Isolte raised her eyebrows slightly, studying Sylphiette, who simply smiled back, meeting her gaze without flinching.
No timidity, no avoidance.
The initial shock over their difference in physique had faded, leaving only calm.
Even without their usual mood-maker (the oblivious, loud-mouthed "mad dog" currently asleep), Sylphiette could now face Isolte one-on-one without unease.
Why?
Because this past year had been a complete arc of growth for her.
From her bewildered first days in Boreas, to the desperation of wanting to do something for Allen, to the frustration of constantly messing up, and finally—to the point where she no longer needed Roxy's reminders to pick herself up after every failure.
She hadn't done it with any grand motive. Just a stubborn determination to make things better for everyone—whether it was Hilda or Allen.
Time had left its mark on her.
The crybaby who used to shed pearls at the drop of a hat had grown up.
Had she already "evolved" into the gentle, understanding "White Mama" of the original story's academy arc?
No.
That wasn't evolution.
That version of Sylphiette—the one who hid her insecurities, endured hardships, and learned to sacrifice herself for others—wasn't her.
She wasn't a flower that only bloomed after being battered by storms.
She was Sylphiette, standing beside Allen in this timeline.
She had chosen resilience, not been forced into it.
From imitation to discarding imitation, from enduring bullying in Buena Village to actively seeking growth and change—she was a spring blossom opening freely in the wind.
She belonged to Allen's story.
She was tougher than her original counterpart, needing neither Ariel's "pity" nor Rudy's "charity."
She could decide how she bloomed—through effort, through getting back up after every failure, through taking the initiative to stand beside Allen and Roxy.
If Roxy and Allen hadn't already fallen for each other first, she might've even been braver, more proactive in taking that step herself.
The original Sylphiette would've already fled by now.
Sylphiette pulled her gaze from the door and looked at Isolte.
The sudden appearance of this "childhood friend" a few days ago had shaken her.
But after some introspection, she realized something—her unease wasn't about Isolte herself.
It was about the change Isolte's arrival might bring.
Because that moment outside the classroom—when Isolte appeared out of nowhere—felt just like the upheaval a year ago, when Allen had barely settled into the Greyrat household before chaos descended.
Spring again. Another person from Allen's past stepping into their lives.
And then they were swept into turbulence.
Their peaceful life shattered. The future didn't unfold as they'd imagined.
But she wasn't afraid anymore.
The path was always winding.
You just had to lift your foot and step forward.
Like she'd done last year.
If once wasn't enough, she'd try again. Twice? Then a third time.
She'd keep standing, keep walking—because that was the only way to stand beside Allen and Roxy.
In this timeline—Allen's Mushoku Tensei—
Sylphiette didn't need anyone to pull her into the light.
Outside, the wind pushed clouds over the moon, plunging the room back into darkness. But in Isolte's eyes, Sylphiette's russet gaze still shone.
Bright.
Smiling.
In this timeline—
She was the light.
If she could weather one storm, she could weather countless more.
The royal capital? The heart of the Asura Kingdom? A world so different from Buena's wheat fields or Roa's bustling streets?
Scenes she'd never seen before?
It didn't matter.
She'd go.
——
Silence.
Isolte watched Sylphiette, listening to her speak of that "Teacher," her mind briefly flashing to the small, blue-haired figure she'd once glimpsed from afar. After a moment, she lowered her lashes, veiling her thoughts.
Between them lay their open suitcases.
Their nightgowns had already been pulled out, draped over the luggage.
Isolte's was a simple, elegant silk dress.
Sylphiette's, however... was a dress with a cat-eared hood, undeniably adorable—complete with a long, trailing...
Swish!
A "tail" flicked through the air before being yanked into the white-haired girl's arms.
Sylphiette clutched the nightgown to her chest, her previously composed expression crumbling into flustered panic.
"Th-This isn't—! I didn't bring it specifically for—! Aah!!"
She muffled a scream into her hands.
This wasn't something she'd packed just to wear for Allen! Really!
(Resilience was resilience. Shyness was shyness. Cuteness was cuteness. Embarrassment was embarrassment. They could coexist.)
But thanks to that little outburst, the strange tension between them melted away.
Isolte blinked, a faintly self-deprecating glint in her eyes, then shook her head. Her ponytail swayed as she pulled off her hairband, letting her dark locks cascade freely.
"Miss Sylphiette, you're very cute. And very charming."
She smiled faintly, lifting her black nightgown over her head.
A flick of her wrists, and the fabric slid down her body, settling just above her thighs.
She tilted her head, watching Sylphiette—who was now struggling to pull her own nightgown on, only to get the "ears" tangled.
"...Thank you."
Sylphiette paused, peeking out from the bunched fabric in confusion.
Isolte reached over, gently freeing the trapped hood. The nightgown finally slid into place.
Then, instead of explaining, Isolte asked:
"Do you remember what I said when we first met?"
Sylphiette blinked. "Wh-What...?"
"Thank you for taking care of my senior these past three years." It might've sounded like a formality, but I meant it."
Sylphiette flushed slightly, unsure how to respond as Isolte continued.
"Senior and I both practice Water God Style. We're sensitive to changes in presence. The moment I saw him, I knew he was different."
Her gaze drifted to Sylphiette's suitcase—packed with an assortment of nightgowns, letters tucked between them, plain cotton underwear, elegant noble-style dresses, perfume, hair accessories, ribbons, even what looked like makeup bottles.
(Most of it had been forcibly stuffed in by Hilda, making her look every bit the noble lady.)
Isolte's own suitcase, in contrast, was sparse—just a few identical outfits and a small, aged wooden box.
Her eyes lingered on the box.
"At first glance, I could tell Senior had changed. His posture, his expression—compared to three years ago, he was more at ease. Especially in Buena."
"Back then, even when he acted strangely, he was always swinging a sword. From the day he entered the Water God dojo, he never stopped. Always frowning, as if something was chasing him, forcing him forward."
"I don't know how he changed. But the result is clear. Thank you—for helping him in ways I couldn't."
"N-No, Allen improved on his own—"
"Did he?"
The air grew heavy again. Sylphiette instinctively tried to lighten the mood, but then she met Isolte's eyes.
In the dimness, the other girl's gaze was wide, unblinking.
"Don't be so modest, Miss Sylphiette."
"...I know the royal capital was a cage to Senior. He disliked James. He missed his parents, just like I did. I know."
"I struggled with it for years. If Senior didn't want fame, didn't want the things within his reach—if he'd rather fake his death and leave everything behind to live as he pleased... then I should respect that. Let him go. Just... watch from afar and wish him well."
"That's what I told myself for two years."
"But..."
"When Lord Phillip's letter arrived..."
"I came to Roa immediately."
"..."
"Sorry."
Unlike Sylphiette's emotional words, Isolte's were sharp—like a blade.
Finished, she glanced once more at Sylphiette's collarbone, where the necklace was now hidden under her nightgown.
"Sorry, I said too much. It's late. We should sleep—we have to travel tomorrow."
Sylphiette was stunned, lips parting slightly.
But Isolte had already nodded and moved past her, lying down on the bed.
After a moment, Sylphiette glanced at the darkened window, then quietly followed, settling beside her.
Both lay there, staring at the ceiling, neither closing their eyes.
Then, in the darkness, a soft voice spoke.
"But... I think going to the capital was Allen's own choice. No one forced him."
Silence.
Then Isolte replied, "...Yes. It was his decision. Maybe he has a new goal now. But still... he could've chosen more freely."
Another pause. Then, suddenly, Isolte turned her head.
Sylphiette was right beside her, ears twitching slightly in the dark like a little animal's.
Isolte studied her for a long moment—until Sylphiette started blushing—before smiling.
"Thank you."
"You really are charming, Miss Sylphiette. I think I understand now... why you could help Senior."
Sylphiette shyly ducked her head, then yawned. It had been a long day, and exhaustion was finally catching up.
(Some small part of her had braced for a sleepless night. But things hadn't gone that way, and relief only made her sleepier.)
This past year at Boreas hadn't just taught her magic. She'd learned... other things, too.
Among nobles, certain matters were commonplace even at ten. Without realizing it, Sylphiette had mentally prepared herself.
After all, their three-person adventuring party was confirmed. And with Roxy not around right now... shouldn't it be her...?
(And everyone around her was so mature—whether it was Arial or Isolte, who, despite being Allen's age, was... very developed.)
The more she thought about it, the sleepier she got.
Until, without meaning to, she mumbled aloud:
"Miss Isolte... your figure is really nice... I'm a little jealous..."
"...I just developed early. You'll catch up, Miss Sylphiette."
"Will I...?"
"You will."
"...I also envy you... getting to grow up with Allen at the dojo..."
Silence.
A long, long silence.
The wind slipped through the window, brushing Sylphiette's face.
Her eyes had already closed, lashes fluttering slightly. Her hair swayed in the breeze like fine fur.
Reflected in dark, watching eyes.
"...Funny. I envy you, Miss Sylphiette."
"So then..."
"Want to swap places...?"
"...Mm."
===
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