⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The second day of the Amaterasu Festival had arrived, and early in the morning, I went out with Don's group to take on a few missions.
To avoid friction with Jane, we chose simple tasks close to the kingdom. Don came along, and Burst too — of course. The tasks were easy, but for me, everything served as practice. I used each encounter to train my energy control and my sword technique.
With Burst's guidance, I could feel my progress. I managed to infuse my energy into the blade much more easily than the day before. Not bad.
The missions went smoothly: we hunted some monsters, gathered materials, and returned safely.
But one thing caught my attention.
During a break, Burst complimented Viola. He was watching her use of fire as she incinerated a nest of creatures.
"You have an affinity with your element that feels like it's been refined your whole life," he said, with rare sincerity.
That stuck in my mind.
I knew almost nothing about Viola's past — or that of the others in Don's group.
But his words sparked something in me.
I had both fire and ice abilities, sure… but what was my true affinity?
I had no idea.
And now, I really wanted to find out.
We returned to the kingdom as the sun began to set.
The second day of the festival was about to come alive, and I was motivated.
I wanted to use the time to train. To isolate myself. To focus.
But I didn't get the chance.
Because someone showed up.
"Hello, my friend!" said a cheerful voice.
I turned around — and there she was.
Amaterasu.
Without her usual hat, wearing sunglasses and a simple kimono decorated with roses.
She smiled like someone hiding a secret plan.
"H-hello…" I replied, trying to mask my surprise.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm in disguise! I managed to sneak away from my guards," she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Really? Good for you…"
My tone came out more sarcastic than I meant, and she noticed. Her smile widened.
I looked at Burst. He was frozen, eyes locked on her.
"You are…?"
Amaterasu made a playful grimace.
"Silly. You see me every year, Prince Ignaris."
Then she spun in a full circle, scanning the area.
"It's me, Amaterasu," she whispered.
"Lady Amaterasu!"
"Don't shout!" she hissed back, jumping slightly from the scare.
"Sorry… I just didn't expect you to come to us before your big performance."
"You think I just sit around until the last day? My performance might be the final event, but I also like to enjoy the festival."
"[Hello! Nice to meet you — my name's Merlin!]"
A cheerful speech bubble floated beside her.
"Oh! A spirit. Lovely to meet you, Merlin! What a delight you are."
Then she looked at me again, curious.
"I didn't know you had a spirit with you. Is she your guardian?"
I froze. That sounded more serious than I expected.
Merlin helps me a lot… but she's more than that.
"No. She's my… best friend," I said, looking away.
Amaterasu paused for a second, surprised — then smiled softly, closing her eyes.
"I see."
"[Victor…]"
A bubble with teary eyes appeared in the air.
"Don't you start with the puppy eyes, Merlin!" I exclaimed, feeling my ears heat up.
Burst laughed — a quiet but genuine laugh. Amaterasu giggled too, covering her mouth delicately with one hand.
"Well, I have to go. If they realize I'm gone, I'll get scolded. But I really enjoyed being with you all. Your energy warms my heart."
"We could walk together another day," I said — surprised by my own sincerity.
"It must be tiring being so famous," said the literal prince of the place.
Amaterasu let out a soft, reserved laugh — the kind that says, "If only you knew…"
"[Good luck, Amaterasu!]"
Merlin gave her a glowing thumbs-up.
"Thank you!" she replied, mimicking the gesture, and started to walk away.
But suddenly, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder.
"Oh! That person's in the children's area again. Might be important to you."
And with that, she turned and vanished into the crowd.
Amaterasu was probably the first person I'd seen disappear normally since arriving here.
That alone was surprising… but I understood what she meant.
She was telling me to let Burst meet Jane.
A simple plan. Maybe naive. But if they met casually — with no expectations, in a light setting — it could be the start of some kind of reconciliation.
I knew their problems wouldn't be solved overnight.
But sometimes, the first step is just sharing the same space without attacking each other.
"What did she mean by that?" Burst asked, glancing sideways.
"I don't know. How about we go find out?" I replied, hiding my smile.
"[Yay! Let's go play in the kids' area!]"
Merlin spun in the air like a top.
"That's right!" I said, joining in her excitement.
"I feel like you two are plotting something…"
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Jane was merely monitoring the area, walking calmly back and forth while keeping an eye on her surroundings.
Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw Burst — who reacted in the exact same way.
Come on, don't fight…
She approached.
"Merlin. Victor." she greeted, giving a quick nod.
"And me?" Burst asked, his tone hovering between teasing and bitterness.
"…"
She's really going to ignore him?
I sighed. Maybe this had been a bad idea after all…
I had to do something. The two of them wouldn't exchange a single word unless someone forced them to.
"Well…" I began, glancing to the side — but Burst was already gone.
"…"
Jane stared at me, expressionless, while my discomfort was painfully obvious.
"This won't work," she said sharply. "Bringing him to me changes nothing. If I haven't gone to him all this time, it's because there's nothing left to say."
"You could at least try… What happened between you two? It can't just be because he ran away."
Jane sighed, her eyes drifting toward some empty spot on the ground.
"You only came after me because of that, didn't you? You want to pull something out of me — some piece of information that could convince Burst to change his mind. But he's stubborn."
Just like you…
"[Miss Jane, if you could at least share some clearer information about all this, perhaps we could help you better.]"
"That's right. We can't convince Burst to come back if we don't even know what exactly he's running from."
Jane stayed silent, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of thought.
Something about this clearly bothered her, even if she wouldn't say it aloud.
"It's too personal," she finally murmured. "But… the truth is, we haven't understood each other for years. And I think it's too late to change that now."
"Yeah… I guess I can't make you talk if you don't want to."
She lifted her gaze.
And for the first time, she actually looked tired — truly tired.
"You should give this up. If you do, I'll consider our agreement fulfilled. I won't even charge you the penalty. You'll be free to live your life in peace… and I'll take Burst back. No complications."
That hit harder than I wanted to admit.
Because she was right.
I was trying to do something that might be impossible.
Changing Burst's mind in a month — when we were already living under the same roof — seemed hard enough.
Changing his heart? Or hers? That was beyond my reach.
"[This is… confusing.]" wrote Merlin.
"What?" Jane frowned.
"[You're family, aren't you? Then why do you act as if fighting is the only option? As if… nothing else is worth it anymore?]"
Merlin was serious this time.
I could feel it in her aura.
So I stayed quiet, waiting for the answer.
Jane closed her eyes for a few seconds.
"I don't know how to answer that."
Silence.
Even with the sounds of the festival around us — laughter, music, the distant crackle of fireworks — everything felt muffled.
As if we were standing in an isolated corner, forgotten by the world, where not even the glow of the celebration could reach.
It was like trying to draw water from stone.
"If you'll excuse me," Jane said — and left.
No hesitation.
No looking back.
"You know, Merlin… I don't think we're getting anywhere like this."
"[...I think we should look for Burst.]"
"Yeah." I agreed, my voice low and weary.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The square was emptier than the rest of the festival. A few children ran in the distance, balloons in their hands, but here, where the ancient fountain poured its clear, glimmering water, everything felt calmer. Colder.
Burst was there, sitting on the fountain's edge, elbows on his knees, head lowered. He was fidgeting with a small stone, tossing it from one hand to the other — but he wasn't really seeing it.
I walked up to him in silence. Merlin floated just behind me, lower than usual.
Burst didn't raise his head.
" So? — he said, without looking at us. His voice came out low and dry. " I suppose it went well… or not?
I stopped in front of him, with Merlin by my side. I wondered if it was worth hiding what had happened — or softening it somehow. But that would've been cowardice. And honestly, he already seemed to know the answer.
"It wasn't what I expected" I admitted.
He let out a nearly cynical sigh and finally lifted his gaze toward us. He didn't look surprised. Or disappointed. Just... tired.
"Of course not. Because no matter how hard you try, she never changes. Still the same frozen statue, guarding a code only she understands."
Merlin floated a little closer. Her glow was dimmer than usual.
"[She thinks the same about you. So what's the real reason you two can't get along?]"
Merlin's words hung in the air, like a cold breeze between us. I watched Burst's reaction carefully. At first, he only frowned. Then his eyes narrowed, and he turned more fully toward her.
"Because she's wrong" he answered, as if it were obvious. "She's obsessed with rules. With roles. With a sense of morality that drowned her long ago. Do you really think you can talk to someone so chained by duty?"
Merlin didn't back down. The soft light around her trembled slightly, but she stayed firm. She wrote slowly, as if weighing each word:
"[But you're family. Doesn't that mean something? Family should try to understand each other, not run away or hurt one another.]"
I knew Merlin well enough to recognize that those words came from somewhere deep inside her. And maybe that's why Burst couldn't ignore them.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Merlin…" his voice changed. There was anger in it now, or maybe frustration. "You don't know what you're talking about. Do you even know what it means to have a family?"
The world seemed to stop for an instant. The festival's voices faded, as if we were somewhere else entirely. I looked at Merlin, waiting for her answer.
She spoke.
Merlin had no voice, no expressions, yet there was a painful firmness in her reply.
"[I don't know. I never had one.]"
The words hit with a weight that left me speechless. Burst blinked, as if he'd been struck. Then Merlin turned away. She didn't write anything else. She just floated off, too fast for someone so small. Disappearing between the low trees that lined the path.
I couldn't say anything.
It all happened quickly, and yet, somehow, every second stretched — like a rope pulled tight until it snapped.
Burst stayed where he was, his head bowed again. His hands, resting on the fountain, were trembling.
"...I think I went too far" he said, almost in a whisper.
I sat beside him without saying a word. The cold marble beneath me contrasted with the muffled warmth of the festival still pulsing in the background. The laughter and chatter felt distant — as if they belonged to another world, another time.
For a long while, we just stayed there — motionless, silent, not exchanging a single glance.
But we didn't need to. I could feel it.
The way his shoulders stayed tense, how his fingers pressed tightly together in his lap. His eyes fixed on some point on the ground, lost, as if searching for words that were never spoken.
And I… I knew exactly what he was feeling. Because I felt it too.
Guilt.
Not the kind born from an impulsive mistake, but the kind that grows slowly, in silence. The guilt that blooms when you fail someone who only ever wanted to help you. To be with you.
She'd always been there. From the very beginning. Helping me with patience, even when I didn't know how to ask for it. Guiding me when I didn't understand this world.
She was better at that than I ever was. Much better. But even she had limits. And I never noticed.
I thought about the promise I made to her, back at the start — that I'd help her find her past. That I'd walk beside her, as a friend.
But instead… I dragged her straight into conflicts that weren't hers. I threw her into a storm, without thinking that all of this was new to her too.
She helped me. She's always helping me. And I don't feel like I've done the same for her.
Maybe that's why now… I felt guilty too.
I sighed, a tightness growing in my chest.
"How about… we go apologize?" I asked.
Burst turned his face toward me, surprised.
"You too?"
I nodded slowly.
"Yeah… I think I didn't pay enough attention to her feelings. I didn't try to see things through her eyes."
He stayed silent for a while, then lowered his head, staring at his own hands. They were clasped tightly, his fingers pale from the pressure.
"Right…" he muttered. "I was really cruel to her."
His voice faltered slightly — almost imperceptibly, but it was there.
"I just… hope she forgives me."
I looked at him with a small, sad smile. Because deep down, I knew.
"She will," I said, with quiet conviction. "Because she's Merlin."
And as much as that comforted me… it also made me sadder. After all, that's the kind of person she is.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
We found her sitting alone—or rather, floating alone—by the edge of a flower bed on the west side, where the festival went on as if nothing had happened.
The light around her flickered in softer shades of lilac, less vibrant than usual.
She looked quiet. Not sad, exactly... just distant.
I approached with Burst beside me. We didn't say anything at first. Merlin didn't run away, nor did she move aside. She just stayed there, floating a few inches above the ground, her back turned to us.
I exchanged a glance with Burst. He looked more nervous than usual—his body tense, his eyes fixed on her as if he feared being rejected. He took a deep breath, pulled his hands out of his pockets, and was the first to move.
He sat down to her left, slowly, as if afraid to startle her. I did the same on the other side.
The nearby fountain murmured softly, and the sounds of the festival in the distance felt muted, as if something invisible was dampening them.
"I don't know what to say," Burst muttered, almost to himself.
Merlin didn't answer. But her light flickered slightly, as if listening carefully.
"What I said before…" he continued, his voice trembling a little. "It wasn't fair. It was cruel. You didn't deserve to hear that."
No speech bubble appeared.
He lowered his eyes, shoulders slumped. His fringe hid part of his face, but I saw when he bit his lip, holding back words he wanted—or maybe needed—to say.
I was never good at this. Never have been. But I tried.
"Me too…" I began, staring at the ground. "I was kind of blind. I didn't think about you. Or about what you wanted. I'm sorry, okay?"
That was all. Simple. Raw. But true.
And if it had been anyone else, I might've worried it wasn't enough.
But with Merlin… no.
She turned in the air, slowly. Her light grew brighter, and a single bubble appeared, floating between us.
"[What kind of apology is that? It's fine.]" a smiling emoji followed.
No drama. No resentment. Just… acceptance.
Burst lifted his gaze to her. And in that moment, without him saying another word, I saw something slip—his eyes shimmered, as if moisture had come before the words.
He wiped it away quickly with his sleeve, pretending it was nothing.
"Thank you, Merlin!" he exclaimed, trying to hug her. Merlin only drifted a little closer.
"[Hey, stop that…]" Merlin glowed brighter; she looked happy.
She floated closer, hovering right between us. Her light felt alive again, pulsing with that warm glow I knew so well.
As if nothing had happened. As if she had already forgiven everything before we'd even spoken.
That was just how she was.
"Now you're going to pretend nothing happened, huh?" I murmured, glancing at her.
"[Exactly.]" another bubble appeared, shimmering with a hint of mischief.
"You know what, meeting you two was actually a good thing. Makes me even prouder I ran away."
"Hey, hey..."
"[Hey, hey...]"
Merlin and I said it together, and in the end, we just laughed.
We stayed there for a few more minutes. We didn't talk about Jane. Or the fights. Or the guilt.
We just listened to the festival around us—the laughter of children, the sweet smell of food in the air. Slowly, the world started spinning again.
Then I noticed a familiar silhouette approaching from the edge of the square, and it caught me by surprise.
Jane.
She walked with firm, steady steps, as always. Straight posture, sharp eyes. But something was different. Her gaze was… calmer. Not cold. Just… cautious.
Burst saw her too. His body stiffened immediately. But this time, he didn't turn away.
She stopped a few steps from us, silent.
"Hi," she said simply.
The word hung in the air, heavy in its lightness.
"Hello again," I replied, trying to keep my tone natural.
Merlin floated to the front, her lilac glow softly vibrating. A speech bubble appeared.
"[Miss Jane, you came back!]"
Jane blinked, as if caught off guard. But the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.
"Yeah, I guess I did," she answered.
Silence. Not uncomfortable—just careful. None of us knew exactly what to say.
Until Merlin wrote another bubble, her glow shining brighter now:
"[Will you stay with us tomorrow? It's the last day of the festival.]"
Burst glanced discreetly at Jane but said nothing.
She hesitated, took a deep breath, looked away for a moment, then replied:
"I might show up, yeah."
Nothing more than that. No open smile, no promise.
But there was no contempt either. No bitterness. Just a sincere maybe.
And that was enough.
Merlin spun once in the air, satisfied.
"[Good! It'll be fun!]" — a cheerful emoji appeared, like a seal closing the conversation.
The tension in the air dissolved, like the last trace of mist swept away by the wind.
Jane turned, about to leave. But after a few steps, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder.
"See you tomorrow, then."
Burst didn't respond. But he didn't look away either. And that… was enough.
As she disappeared among the festival lights, I smiled.
My [Analytical Awareness] had already noticed her presence before.
She'd heard everything: the argument and the apology.
Looks like the great commander doesn't have a heart of stone—at least, not as much as she lets on.
Maybe… it's not about winning an argument.
Maybe the first step is just that—stopping, and trying to see the world through the eyes of someone we don't understand.
Because sometimes, that's all someone needs.
If Jane's willing to try, I hope Burst puts in a little effort too.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅.