Chapter 7: A Date by Firelight and Fluxite
The grand, crystalline gates of the Valerius Academy felt strangely hushed under the deep velvet of the night sky. With the clamor of combat classes over and the sharp clang of training drills silenced, only the gentle, orange glow of Pulsarite lanterns lining the main path remained. A warm, spring breeze whispered through the courtyard, carrying the distant, sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine.
Roy adjusted the collar of his simple, dark jacket, the motion betraying his uncertainty. He stood waiting, trying to appear casual, until Jean emerged from the shadow of the central dormitory.
She wasn't in her usual, stiff Vanguard battle gear. Tonight, a simple, crimson-red jacket over dark, casual clothes framed her figure, and her signature silver hair was loose, flowing down her back. It caught the soft lamplight like fine, shimmering threads of metal and flickering flames.
Roy caught himself staring, his throat suddenly dry. "You look—"
Jean's cheeks flushed a soft, lovely pink. Her eyes, usually so sharp and focused, darted nervously as she interrupted, her voice a little too quick. "Different? I usually don't—"
He scratched the back of his neck, grinning awkwardly. "I was going to say… nice. Really nice."
Her face deepened in color, the blush spreading to her neck. She quickly looked down, gripping the strap of her small shoulder bag tight enough to whiten her knuckles. "Don't say things like that so casually, Roy. It's… distracting."
Roy merely shrugged, feeling a surge of nervous energy. "It's the truth, Jean."
The Evening Market: Sparks and Digital Splurges
They walked the short distance to the city's Lower Ring Night Market. Here, the academy's quiet discipline dissolved into vibrant, chaotic life. Merchants shouted their wares, stalls glowed with hundreds of colorful Pulsarite lamps, and the air was thick with the rich, savory smell of roasting meat and the syrupy sweetness of fresh Storm Buns.
Roy's eyes gleamed with the pure excitement of a student released from his books. "Dinner's on me tonight, Jean! No arguments!"
Jean raised a silver eyebrow, a familiar, skeptical expression crossing her face. "You? I remember you were practically broke just last week after that repair to your gauntlet."
Roy tapped his wristband, where the shimmering, slightly iridescent surface of his Fluxite Casing—a refined, symbiotic metal compound—was visible. He opened his secure Lumens app. "Let's just say a certain high-level hunting contract paid off spectacularly. Took me three days to track it, but the bounty was worth it."
Jean's brow furrowed in disapproval. "Hunting a high-level beast alone? Roy, that's not just confident, it's reckless."
"Relax. I'm still here, aren't I? Just got a little extra scratch in my account," he said, giving her a wink. She gave him a wary, unconvinced look, but the sternness in her eyes softened.
They reached a vendor selling sizzling flame-roasted skewers. Roy selected five. He extended his wrist to the merchant's scanner. The vendor's device chimed with a high, clear tone, confirming a large Lumens transfer. Jean's jaw tightened in surprise.
"Roy! You are truly splurging tonight," she muttered, a tremor of concern in her voice.
He simply took two skewers for himself and extended the others to her. "What's the point of earning it if I can't treat my best teammate once in a while?"
Her heart fluttered at the word teammate, but her face betrayed nothing. She quickly took a skewer and bit into it, letting the burst of spice and savory meat hide the small, private smile playing on her lips.
Strolling and Shopping: The Digital Firestone
They wandered past stalls selling rare fruits and exotic clothing until they reached the serious section: the blacksmith's and artificer's goods. Weapons and armor of all ranks gleamed under the Pulsarite lights.
Roy picked up a dagger with a slightly wavering edge, humming faintly with raw power. "This is cool, right? I can probably afford it now!"
Jean folded her arms, her usual pragmatism asserting itself. "You don't need it. Your Fluxite Casing improves your weapon's structural integrity and energy output far better than any low-grade market infusion could. It's a waste of Lumens."
"Yeah, but it's shiny," Roy countered with a smirk, putting it down.
She sighed, but her lips curled in amusement. "Hopeless."
At the next stall, which specialized in raw crystalline power sources, Roy spotted it. A medium-sized, un-cut Pulsarite Crystal that pulsed with an unusual, deep reddish-orange light—a true Firestone.
"How much for that one?" Roy asked the merchant.
The burly man didn't even look up. "Too expensive for a student-kid like you. That's a high-grade energy stone. You're looking at a six-digit Lumens transfer."
Roy smirked. He quickly initiated a transfer on his wristband, selecting the maximum clearance level for the payment. The merchant's terminal blared a warning chime, followed by a surprised, high-pitched ding signaling the massive transaction. The merchant's eyes, which had been dismissive, widened in shock. "W-Wait, that's… that's confirmed! You cleared the payment!"
Jean tugged sharply on Roy's jacket sleeve, her voice low and stern. "Don't flaunt your balance like that, Roy. It's inviting trouble."
"Relax. I earned it fair and square." He ignored her protest, completed the purchase, and then turned, handing the glowing, warm Firestone directly to her. "This is for you."
She stared at the crystal in his palm, stunned into silence. "Why would you give it to me? It's worth a fortune in Lumens."
"Because fire suits you, Jean," he said simply, his voice losing its teasing edge. "You've helped me plenty with my combat forms and getting the hang of my Fluxite. Consider it a thank-you."
Jean's chest tightened painfully. The stone felt warm and alive in her hands. She opened her mouth to argue, to refuse, but her emotions choked the words. Instead, she spun away, staring at a display of herbs, her cheeks ablaze.
"You're still reckless with your money," she managed, her voice now barely a strained whisper.
An Unexpected Intrusion: Lyra's Knife
Just as the romantic tension reached its peak, a familiar, smooth voice sliced through the market noise like a sharp, silver dagger.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"
Lyra Vance, a senior student known for her cutting wit and ruthless ambition, lounged against a nearby food stall, a small, knowing smirk wide on her lips. Her eyes, sharp and predatory, scanned Roy's recently purchased items and Jean's deeply flushed, flustered face.
"Roy, you didn't tell me you had a… date," Lyra purred, emphasizing the word.
Jean stiffened instantly, the Firestone clutched so tightly in her hand that its pulse seemed to double. "I-It's not a date! We're just out!"
Lyra's grin grew wider, cruel and satisfied. "Really? Because it sure looks like a successful one. He's bought you dinner and a high-grade Pulsarite crystal. I saw that Lumens transfer go through." She leaned close to Roy, dropping her voice conspiratorially, though it was loud enough for Jean to hear. "Careful, rookie. The Ice and Fire Princess has a volatile temper. She might set you on fire if you disappoint her."
Roy raised his hands defensively, his own patience wearing thin. "Lyra, don't start anything—"
But it was too late. Jean's face was burning crimson with anger and embarrassment. Abruptly, she grabbed Roy's arm—not a gentle pull, but a firm, almost painful grip. "We're leaving. Now."
Roy stumbled after her, dropping a small sack of fried sweets. "H-Hey—Jean, wait up—"
Her grip was iron-firm as she dragged him away from the section, muttering low enough only for him to hear. "She's always in the way… always."
Fireworks on the Hill: The Wish to Stay
A short time later, they were outside the city walls, sitting on a high, grassy slope that overlooked the entire illuminated panorama of the Valerius capital. Beneath them, the annual Founders' Lantern Festival was reaching its peak: thousands of paper lanterns drifted slowly upward, and fireworks burst in fiery, glorious cascades of red, gold, and sapphire across the dark sky.
Roy lay back on the cool grass, hands behind his head. "You really don't like Lyra, do you?"
Jean hugged her knees tightly to her chest, her eyes fixed on the brilliant sparks above, letting the light wash over her. "She's loud. And she's shameless."
Roy watched the subtle tightening of her jaw. "Or… you're jealous."
Her head snapped around to face him, eyes wide and blazing with offense. "N-No, I am absolutely not! Why would you even say that?"
"Then why did you drag me away so fast, Jean?" he pressed gently. "She was only teasing."
She turned away again, pulling her silver hair forward to hide her flushed face. "Because… because you are impossible. And she was embarrassing us."
Roy chuckled softly, a warm sound that made her heart skip. "You're cute when you're trying to look mad, Jean."
At that simple compliment, a faint, undeniable flicker of her power—a shy, internal heartbeat of fiery, red aura—danced momentarily around her left shoulder before she fiercely suppressed it.
"D-Don't tease me, Roy." Her voice was small and earnest.
They shared a long, quiet moment, the enormous, explosive flowers of the fireworks blooming and dying across the sky above them. Roy watched Jean relax in the warm, pulsing light of the Firestone she still clutched, seeing her less guarded, less the Ice and Fire Princess, and more real.
Finally, in a breath barely above a whisper, she broke the silence. "Thank you… for today. And for the stone."
Roy blinked, genuinely confused. "For the food? You don't have to thank me for that."
"For… everything," she insisted, turning slightly to face him, the firelight casting beautiful shadows on her cheeks.
Their eyes met. The familiar, comfortable friendship that had always been their foundation suddenly felt too fragile, strained by a powerful, unspoken attraction. A profound hush fell between them, the fireworks lighting her silver hair, her cheeks still deeply flushed with warmth and fear.
Roy leaned in, his heart pounding a furious rhythm against his ribs.
Jean's breath hitched, her eyes widening, reflecting the light of a thousand burning sparks. Her body tensed in anticipation, and she held herself rigid, a mix of desperate hope and terror on her face—
Then, with a sudden, sharp intake of air, she bolted to her feet, dropping the Firestone beside her. "I-It's really late! We should head back to the Academy now, before they lock the gates!"
Roy groaned, falling back onto the grass, an expression of utter defeat on his face. "You're running away again, aren't you?"
"I-I'm not!" she insisted, her voice cracking with the lie. She snatched up the Firestone and walked briskly down the hill, her posture stiff, fists clenched tight—holding back a wish to stay, to turn around, and to reach out to the boy still lying beneath the exploding firelight