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Rumble, rumble…
The carriage wheels turned steadily as the curtains swayed.
Through the fluttering fabric, a pair of eyes gazed at the night scenery outside.
The shadows of trees blurred past in the darkness, reflected in those slightly troubled eyes.
Allen sat stiffly inside the carriage.
It was the second day after the ambush in the town, and they were still on their way to Rapan.
Despite the peaceful night…
Despite the warmth beside him…
He was completely numb.
What the hell is this situation?!
He had only intended to monitor whether the Human God was invading Sylphie's or Isolte's dreams, to preempt any potential danger.
But somehow, in the process…
He ended up with both Isolte and Sylphie clinging to him?!
Huh?!
Allen's lips twitched as he surveyed the "scenery" inside the carriage.
He didn't dare move. Not even a little.
Below him—Sylphie, the white-haired, red-eyed girl, was pressed tightly against him, her head resting on his lap. Her soft hair spilled over her sleeping face, and her lips curled into a sweet smile as she nuzzled deeper into his embrace, arms locked around his waist.
Allen's abs and back muscles were rock-hard from tension.
Too tight! Sylphie, weren't you just leaning against me when you fell asleep? How did you end up sliding down like this?!
So naturally, too?!
Further down, in front of him—Eris, the fiery-haired tsundere, was sprawled in a wild "Angry Crow Takes Flight" pose, face planted between his knees, drooling profusely.
Allen was done.
This is too much. Eris, if this position is so uncomfortable, why not just sleep in the other carriage? If you hate Rudeus that much, kick him out to chat with the coachman!
The sheer absurdity of the scene made Allen want to bury his face in his hands and scream.
Then—his right arm tingled with pressure.
In an instant, Allen stiffened even further.
His entire body tensed up.
Slowly, he turned his head to the side.
Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silver glow over the scene.
A cascade of dark hair, so smooth it seemed liquid, spilled over his shoulder and down his arm.
At the ends of those strands, hints of blue shimmered faintly.
The black-and-blue-haired girl—Isolte—rested her head against his shoulder. From Allen's angle, her nose, though not delicate, carried a striking elegance.
Even in sleep, she exuded that same radiant aura.
Isolte… his childhood friend, unseen for so long.
Allen's arm tensed again—because what it was pressed against was too soft.
Don't move. Don't you dare move.
Still, despite his rigid posture, his expression quickly settled into calm. He frowned slightly, studying Isolte's face carefully.
She slept peacefully, her brows relaxed, her expression serene.
After a long moment, Allen exhaled quietly.
It seems the Human God hasn't visited Isolte's dreams tonight.
…Probably?
But he couldn't be sure just from her expression.
He fell silent.
The words he'd spoken two nights ago had been full of misunderstandings.
His gaze drifted down to Sylphie, still sound asleep.
Yet, strangely, over the past two days, Sylphie and Isolte had gotten along remarkably well—so well that they'd even dropped formal speech.
Even though Sylphie must have heard that conversation…
Time flowed quietly in the silent carriage.
Only the rhythmic breathing of the four filled the space.
Allen sighed inwardly.
Emotions are getting too complicated…
What a mess. The things I lacked in my past life are being "repaid" in the most absurd way now.
He glanced at Isolte again.
Her warmth seeped into his skin through his sleeve.
And with it came a creeping sense of… guilt.
—Roxy is still so far away.
And yet, I…
He blinked.
Then, an "excuse" popped into his mind.
If I can't tell whether the Human God is invading their dreams… why not just summon Him myself?
If He doesn't show up, it means He's already in their dreams.
If He does show up, it means He was planning to invade.
If He's late, it means I interrupted Him mid-invasion.
No matter what, I win.
Damn you, Human God.
A breeze brushed past Allen as he turned his gaze to the carriage window, deliberately avoiding looking at Isolte or Sylphie.
The wood grain of the carriage wall came into sharp focus.
Allen murmured inwardly, responding to his own "excuse."
'System. Map search. Target: Roxy.'
A brief pause—then dust swirled around him, as if struggling to form words before giving up.
Instead, it spun rapidly in front of his eyes.
The familiar sensation of his vision racing across mountains and seas followed.
Then—a "door" opened on the carriage wall beside him.
Allen looked.
In his line of sight…
A full moon hung high in the sky.
Above the silhouettes of the night and scattered lights.
Allen froze for a second before realizing what this meant. He shifted his gaze slightly—to the figure beside him.
Blue hair, like a waterfall, draped over her shoulders.
She stood by the window.
Clad only in a loose, moon-white sleeping robe.
Her chin, ears, cheeks…
Eyes, lashes, pupils…
The color in her gaze…
All of it—overflowing with tenderness.
Allen stared at Roxy, just… looking at her.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Ten.
A full ten seconds passed—the Human God had granted him the full extent of his ability this time.
The dust dissipated, the System retreating in frustration.
But Allen paid no attention to its logic.
Instead, he emptied his mind, simply gazing at the moon outside the carriage window.
The full moon, hanging high.
Mountains rose and fell beneath it.
The full moon, hanging high.
No ridge or valley could block the coming and going of longing.
The full moon, hanging high.
The full moon…
Hanging high…
Tonight, at this moment.
In this life, in this world.
Allen and Roxy…
They were.
Looking at the same "moon."
The moon's glow shimmered in her deep blue eyes.
Roxy blinked, pulling her robe tighter around herself.
Outside the window, the late spring breeze of Shirone still carried a slight chill.
She sniffled lightly, then glanced to the side.
On the desk lay a half-written letter.
—It's been over three months since my last letter. It should have reached Roa about a month ago… I wonder how Sylphie and Allen are doing?
Going by the timing, Allen's reply should already be on its way…
She sighed softly.
Lately, she'd been struggling with what to write. Her last letter had contained something important, and she wasn't sure how things had turned out.
If it was bad news… would writing something too "lighthearted" be inappropriate?
But if it was good news… that would be wonderful.
That way, the "adventuring party" could stay together properly. Sylphie wouldn't cry so much anymore…
At that thought, the usually reserved curve of Roxy's lips lifted slightly.
Recently, she'd been speeding up Prince Zanoba's lessons, and the feedback from the royal court had been positive. He was becoming more polite, more refined.
It feels…
Like it's time to leave Shirone.
Her cheeks flushed slightly as she tugged at the blue strands framing her face.
I… can't stay still anymore.
I wonder if Allen will welcome me back?
What will it be like when we meet again?
Will his hair be longer?
Will he have grown taller?
Will he be more mature?
Will he still say those things that make my heart race?
…Well, maybe it'd be nice if he did.
Because no matter what, it always sounds so… pleasant.
Her face grew hotter and hotter until, finally, she covered it with her hands in embarrassment.
But as she moved, the arms that had been hugging her body loosened—and the ill-fitting robe slipped off entirely, pooling at her feet.
Under the moonlight…
Glistening. Flawless.
Roxy's eyes shot wide open.
She scrambled to pick up the robe, frantically looking around.
A maid in the distance averted her gaze, stifling a giggle behind her hand.
Roxy: "…"
Her mouth opened slightly, then closed. After a long pause, she forced herself to regain composure.
Th-This wasn't clumsiness! It was an accident!
What was I even thinking about just now…?
She hid her face again—this time bending over slightly to clamp the edges of the robe between her arms.
The night breeze drifted quietly through the halls of Shirone's palace.
After a while, however, those deep blue eyes peeked out once more from between her fingers.
The moon's reflection shimmered within them.
Roxy lowered her hands, one holding her robe in place, the other propping her chin as she leaned against the windowsill.
Her thoughts flowed with the wind.
Outside, beneath the sky…
Was the same "moon."
How have you been lately?
Allen.
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