Then came his voice.
The same warmth I remembered, the gentleness that never changed. My eyes grew heavy, a sting behind them as tears threatened to slip free.
I said nothing at first, afraid my voice would crack. He stayed quiet too, waiting. Patient—like always.
This was the first time I had called Fujimoto on my own accord in over a year.
“Shun?” His voice rang again, carrying that same calm warmth, the kind that hasn’t changed no matter how much time passed.
My name, spoken so simply, unravelled something in my chest.
“Yeah. It’s me.” I swallowed, my voice came out hoarse, too soft. I closed my eyes, fighting the pressure behind them, fingers tightening around the phone. I almost hung up right there but forced myself to keep going.
“It’s been a while.” He doesn’t rush, didn’t fill the silence too quickly. He waited—like always. Patient, steady.
There was no accusation in his tone, just quiet acknowledgment. The kind that made the silence harder to bear.
“I’m sorry.” That all I could muster up in that moment, and there was a slow hum from the other side, a sound so familiar, how he used to hum when I used to go to sleep in my childhood.
I gripped the phone tighter. The words just tumbled out, raw, shaky, unpolished. “I should’ve called. I should’ve…I don’t know. I kept thinking I’d only drag you down if I did. Or maybe I didn’t want to say anything at all.” I took a breath. “And then more time passed, and it felt like maybe I’d lost the right to.” I let my words roll out slowly, each syllable carefully chosen.
A shaky laugh slipped my mouth, more self-directed than anything.
His voice was gentle, yet firm, grounding me. “You could never lose that right with me. Shun, I’ve told you before—you don’t need a reason to call. You just need to.”
My throat tightened, chest pressed like it was caving inward. I bit back a sob that was clawing its way up, voice trembling.
“You don’t need to explain yourself. You never had to, because...” he paused—a slight tremble in his voice I caught. “I understand. I’m just glad you called.”
I let the words settle in, feeling the tremble in my voice ease slightly. “Fujimoto, I...I feel like I’ve been running in circles. Making mistakes I can’t undo, pretending I’m fine when I’m not. And the worst part is, I kept quiet instead of reaching out. I should’ve…I should’ve called you. I’m sorry.”
Honesty, it left me bewildered how vulnerable I sounded in this moment. Since Master’s death, I had tried to lock away these emotions, this vulnerability...but now, I couldn’t hold it anymore, I felt like I was sinking into this quagmire without a bottom in sight.
I was afraid—what if I finally lost myself in that bottomless hole, not being able to climb back out? What if I didn’t wanted to?
And that, it scared me now.
“You’re all I have left now. You’ve always been all I had—and just how I treated you for the past year, I don’t know if I have the right to even say this.” My voice trembled like I was biting back on each word. “I-I...I missed you...Fujimoto.”
Just as I spoke, silence descended, there was no sound from the other side, but just as I felt troubled, the sound of a soft exhale came from the other end.
“I missed you too. Every day.” He said, the words were simple, but for some reason I felt like that’s all I wanted to hear for so long.
“And one more thing,” his voice grew firm, gentle at the edges yet insistent. “You never needed to earn a place in my life. You just…have it. And always. That’s what family is for.”
The reassurance in his tone made my throat tighten, but it also gave me the courage to go on.
Before I could hold them back, tears slipped down my face, my voice turned weak, it whimpered like it once had. For the first time in so long, I let them fall, I didn’t hold back, the tears felt like a way for me to release the vulnerability chained inside me.
“I’m tired of running. Of pretending I’m fine. I just—”
I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “I want to find myself again. And I think…I think I finally started to.”
I kept crying for a while, Fujimoto didn’t say anything, but his gentle voice from the other side made me feel assured and protected.
After a few more minutes, I wiped my eyes, taking a deep breath as I straightened. “Fujimoto, I...” I hesitated, whether to tell him—ask for his advice like I always did.
Silence followed for a second, but his voice rang again. “You want to tell me something, don’t you?” My expression shifted in surprise, on how well he knew me. “You always did this when you were little, so I can probably tell you want advice over something you can’t decide yet. Don’t you?”
“So, what is it this time? Trouble at work? Or do you need help changing your diapers?” Fujimoto’s tone shifted, a sly smile almost audible in his voice. “Or, is it about something else?”
I felt a thin smile touch my lips—I had started smiling more in the past few days, and whenever I thought about the reason behind it, it always made me think twice.
“Well...ahh...there’s something I wanted to tell you. It feels stupid even saying it out loud.” I said, my voice caught, unable to form the right words.
“Then it’s probably important. Go on, you can tell your big brother.” I could clearly imagine the smirk on his face.
I hesitated, voice low. “I met someone. A few days back when I came to London.” I found my voice turning gentle as I was reminded of her.
There was a pause in Fujimoto’s voice, then he spoke. “And...is this ‘someone’ supposed to be a ‘girl’?”
On his proclamation, I rubbed the back of my neck, somehow embarrassed on the way he had read me so well, as if he could see me right now.
His chuckle came through the line. “I’ll take your silence as confirmation. Still, it’s good to hear the little boy I used to bathe, feed, and raise has finally found someone he likes.”
I grumbled, feeling warmth crawl up my cheeks. “It’s not like that...I-I—” I hesitated, not even sure what to call this yet—the way she made me feel was different from how I cared about Master or Fujimoto. “I met her by coincidence, and one thing led to another, and now I don’t know how to feel about it. Rachael is...”
Fujimoto didn’t interrupt. He waited, letting me struggle through my words until I felt like an idiot just for saying them out loud. Then, his voice softened. “So, her name is ‘Rachael’. That’s a beautiful name.” He said, taking a short pause before continuing. “And what do you want to do about it? That’s more important. All I can do is give you some advice, Shun, what you do from now on matters more.”
I felt the words scrap the back of my tongue. They were simple words, but I thought over and over just to say them. “Truthfully, I don’t know what to do.” I admitted. “The way she treats me...I think it might just be pity, but, I don’t know.”
“Shun,” he said, his voice firm, serious. “I didn’t raise you to be so indecisive. And, why are you pushing away someone’s kindness as pity?”
I paused for a second. I knew, it was not pity, the way she showed she cared, how even in the small things, she showed that I mattered.
“I know...but,” I stopped from saying it. Because, in the end, I was scared, not sure if I wanted to admit what was between us. What if I was wrong and being delusional?
“Somehow, it scares me. Because I don’t know if I deserve that. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe these feelings are just…wrong. I hate it—how I feel, how I can’t even be sure what I need to do.” I wailed, my lips pressed into a thin line. “When I’m on the battlefield I can make the best rational decisions, but now, I can’t seem to do that.”
Fujimoto was quiet for a beat, then firm but soft. “You don’t have to deserve kindness, Shun. You just have to allow yourself to receive it. Don’t push it away just because you’re afraid.”
Then came a soft and warm chuckle. “You don’t hate it. You just don’t know how to accept it yet. But Shun—if she’s given you even a glimpse of peace, hold onto it.”
I felt my lips quiver, my voice breaking, almost a whisper. “Can I really?”
“Yes. Because you’re still here. Because after everything, you still have the heart to care. That’s more than most could ever claim.” He said.
The words sank deep. I covered my face, letting out a shaky laugh mixed with a sob. For once, I didn’t feel judged. Just understood.
“Thank you…for still being here. For not giving up on me.”
I looked out of the windows, the tall skyscrapers drowned by the warm evening light.
“I never will. You’re my brother, Shun. No matter how far you wander, you’ll always find me right here—same as when you were that little boy clinging to me.” His voice grounded me, feeling my chest tighten on his words.
A short silence followed after, but it was different now—full, steady, warm. I breathed, really did, like I haven’t in years.
Our conversation trailed off into old memories, Fujimoto reminded me of how I used to be when I was a little kid, pondering on the memories that made me smile, a smile full of sorrow knowing I couldn’t go back to those days, but the warmth that bloomed inside my chest left me soothed.
After a while, I was standing near the wide windows of my suite, my eyes looking downward at the streets of London, watching civilians move effortlessly.
“Fujimoto,” I said after a pause. He replied with a gentle “what?”, and I spoke. “Can I come visit you?”
I raised my gaze, my face dry of the tears from before, but the smile that I had hid for so long had bloomed on it. The guilt that clung to me still felt fresh, but, I knew that I needed to change to respect the wishes of Master and the people that I had failed.
Right next moment, Fujimoto’s delighted voice rang from the phone. “Of course. Is that something that you even have to ask? It’s your home as well, you can come anytime.” The cheer in his voice pulled at my heart, knowing there was a place in the world where I was genuinely needed without anything in return. “But, I would appreciate it if you tell me when will you be coming back, so I can make some preparations. It will be your homecoming in an year.”
He trailed off, his voice felt full of energy, unlike the time I had seen or heard him during Master’s funeral. “And, when you arrive, I want to hear all the detail about Rachael—it would be better if you brought her along.”
My smile widened, a characteristic that still left me slightly unsettled. “Things haven’t progresses that far, and I wouldn’t want to burden her that way. So, hold your horses, Takeru.”
I ran a hand through my dried hair, the mossy brown looked dull, and my bangs tumbling down my forehead. Honestly, I was a sight too unsightly.
“Honesty, sometimes I forget just how much of a romantic you really are.” I chuckled, it was faint, but it made the air warmer and lighter around me.
“That’s just who I am.” He joined in on the laughter.
As the streaks of light were disappearing from the sky, the golden orange shade vanishing, the sky darkened each second.
“Shun,” Fujimoto’s voice rang.
I kept looking at the sunset. “Yeah?”
“Stay safe. I already know about your accomplishments since you are an
On the mention of Master my chest stirred, but I let it settle for once, letting that pain out with a breath. Accepting it.
“Yeah. You take care too. I will try to take care of things on my end and visit you as soon as possible.” I said as Fujimoto spoke and then I brought the phone down from my ear and cut the call.
I looked at my reflection in the wide windows. Still dressed in the bathrobe, long messy hair.
“I better take care of my appearance first.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
***
The next day came slower than usual, Sunday’s calm stretching across the streets of London. My steps carried me toward the flower shop almost on instinct—like my body moved before I had even decided to go.
But when I arrived, the shop was closed for a change.
I frowned, staring at the darkened windows. The glass reflected me back—tired eyes, lips pressed thin—but I could still make out the faint outlines of shelves and vases inside. Without the usual glow of light and colour, the shop looked wistful, almost lonely.
I peeked into the shop, perhaps, I did look like a lost cat how she had described me to be.
I shifted my weight, about to turn away, the scarf I wore moved, when I heard footsteps behind me.
Not rushed. Not cautious. Calm, collected. A rhythm I had already learned to recognize.
“What’re you doing here?”
Her voice—soft, familiar.
She stood a few steps off. Our eyes locked and my chest went tight. I opened my mouth, closed it, and she read the silence for me.
My eyes fixed over her. She wasn’t in her usual clothes when she worked, her apron gone, she was draped in clothes that showed her normalcy. A long brown skirt, a white blouse that draped her upper body, with a sweater to push out the cold that encompassed the city.
“Oh, You cut your hair.” Her gaze stuck to my face. “You know, you do have that charm.” She smiled and something in me loosened. I checked the mirror and, for the first time in a while, felt like the time I’d spent on myself had mattered.
I adjusted the scarf wrapped around my neck, as I fixed my coat.
Then she turned to the shop, and my eyes grew curious again. She turned me to once again and her brows rose in acknowledgement.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you, did I? I closed the shop today to go somewhere. I was about to leave now, but I needed to pick some flowers and grab a few things before that.”
She slipped past me with that same unhurried grace, unlocking the door with a small click. Without thinking, I followed her in.
The shop smelled faintly of lilies and roses, though the air was cooler with the lights still off. Rachael walked ahead, weaving between the shelves until she stopped by a table where several flowers waited in small buckets of water.
She glanced back at me, her expression thoughtful—and then it shifted, softening into something almost mischievous. An idea flickered in her eyes, and for a moment she looked…adorable.
My heart stirred, unsteady, and I hated how obvious it felt inside me. Last night’s conversation with Fujimoto still clung to me, but now, standing here, it was as if his words were finding roots.
“Hey, Shun,” she said suddenly, tilting her head. “Do you have anything to do today?”
I blinked. “Ehm, not particularly.”
She laughed lightly, her voice carrying a warmth that curled around me. “I guess even hunters can rest on a simple Sunday afternoon.”
Somehow, that line didn’t fit well with me. I hadn’t taken a single day off since Master’s burial. I kept myself busy with mission after mission, and at times forced to rest by general Morris.
Even now, I was on duty—on a mission assigned to me. But perhaps, taking it easy for one day wouldn’t hurt.
I stood close to her, watching her caress the flowers in her hands.
Then Rachael’s eyes glimmered with a thought as she turned back to me. “Actually…come with me somewhere.” She paused, then spoke again. “I mean, if you don’t have anything to do right now that is. I don’t want to be pushy.”
I tilted my head. “Somewhere?”
She nodded, lips quirking. “Mm. But first, tell me—do you have one of those…what do you hunters call it again? Right, a dimensional artifact?”
I lifted my hand, flexing my thumb where the golden ring gleamed faintly in the low light. Her gaze lingered on it for a moment before she gave me an approving nod.
“Good.” She said. “Then come with me to the back.”
I followed as she unlocked a side door and pushed it open. The air was cooler inside, faintly perfumed with dried flowers. A wooden table dominated the centre of the small room, and on it…
Boxes. Dozens of them, neatly arranged, each carefully wrapped, ribbons tied tight. They looked like presents waiting for a celebration.
My brows furrowed. “What are these?”
“Gifts,” Rachael said, simple as that. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before glancing at me. “And you need to store them inside your artifact. If they’ll fit, that is.” She gave me a hearty laugh, stepping forward.
I stepped closer, eyeing the sheer number. “Well,” I scratched my cheek with an awkward expression, “that amount might be a bit big.”
She laughed softly, almost as if she’d expected that answer.
I gave the boxes one more look. Dimensional artifact were expensive, because the magic used to replicate them was very problematic, because something about opening a small space inside an object was difficult, so even the cheapest ones were sold for a hefty price. Plus, the one I had was just big enough to have the same capacity as a closet.
I rubbed the ring on my thumb, feeling the hardness of the artifact which Gabriel had given me ages ago.
With my weapons and resources stored already, I might just be able to fit some of them inside.
Still, I did as she asked. One by one, I slipped the boxes into the golden ring’s dimensional space, until the artifact strained at its limit. The rest I had to carry in my arms—stacks of boxes piled high enough to block my view, bags looped over my forearms and hands until they weighed me down like ornaments.
Rachael winced lightly. “Sorry for the burden.”
I adjusted my grip, steadying the tower of gifts against my chest. “Don’t worry. This weight is nothing.” I acted like it was nothing, but the strain was still noticeable even for me.
Just where was she taking all these gifts? I thought , giving her a glance from above the boxes.
“If I wasn’t here today, how were you expecting to take all these boxes by yourself?” I asked, adjusting the boxes.
She inclined her head, her answer already formed. “Well, I kind of had a feeling you would be here and willing to help me out.”
Her lips curved, and a playful gleam lit her eyes. “You could almost go for a butler accompanying his lady.”
I paused, letting a quiet chuckle escape. My reply was soft but carried just enough teasing to brush against her guard. “If that’s the case, then maybe you should start treating me like one.” I said, taking a step closer to her as she took the remaining smaller boxes and bags.
Her steps faltered for a heartbeat. A flush bloomed across her cheeks, and she turned her face away so quickly it almost made me laugh. She walked on faster, as if rushing toward the door, leaving me to trail after her with half my vision blocked by ribbons and bows.
Even from behind, I could tell she was flustered. And for some reason, that made the weight in my arms feel lighter than before.
Rachael took the already completed bouquet of flowers from over the counter and we stepped out as she locked the doors.
We stepped outside silently, the air cooler than the dim shop behind us. I adjusted the boxes in my arms, following her down the narrow street.
“Mind telling me where exactly we’re going with all this?” I asked, trying not to let the stack wobble.
Rachael slowed her pace just enough for me to catch up, her eyes softening as she glanced at the gifts in my arms. “An orphanage,” she said quietly. “My mother used to send donations there every month. The director’s an old friend of hers. After she passed, I…well, I couldn’t just stop. So I’ve kept going—helping however I can.”
Her tone wasn’t heavy, just matter-of-fact, but beneath it lingered something tender. “Those kids…they don’t have much. If I can give them even a little warmth, even a reason to smile, then that’s enough.”
I shifted the weight of the boxes, watching the way her lips curved faintly as she spoke. The sincerity in her voice struck something in me, a quiet ache I couldn’t quite name.
Her cheeks looked pinkish from the cold and I could visibly see her shoulders shiver as she walked. The cold atmosphere was getting worse by the day.
She walked a little faster, as if embarrassed for saying so much at once, her hands brushing the handles of the bags she carried. “Besides,” she added softly, “I think my mother would’ve wanted me to keep going.”
For a moment, I stayed silent. Then, without thinking, I said, “I think she’d be proud.” Those words were genuine, and somehow, I could feel the way her shoulders moved.
Her steps faltered again—just slightly—but she didn’t look back. I caught the way her shoulders lifted with a small, quiet breath, and the faintest pink brushed her ears.
I smiled faintly behind the wall of boxes, my lips pressed thin to hide it.
After a short walk, I could make out the outline of a building in the distance. Along the way, I got many stares from passers-by, but I ignored them as we finally arrived
The orphanage stood at the end of a quiet lane, its old brick walls softened by ivy and time. Rachael led me through the front, greeting the staff warmly.
For an old building it was well maintained. With every step I saw someone new greeting Rachael and me. It took us time, but we finally reached the director’s office.
Rachael knocked once announcing her arrival, and then the door opened as we stepped inside.
I stepped inside, and I registered a simple looking office that was more of a study, and near the window, stood an elderly woman.
Rachael moved, placing the bags and small boxes on a coffee table nearby, and reaching to her.
“Anna.” She said, her voice full of delight and nostalgia.
Anna pulled her into a soft hug, then pulled back as she held Rachael’s hands and greeted her with a smile.
I walked closer to the coffee table and placed the boxes gently on the surface, as I withdrew the ones inside my artifact and aligned them on the table which took almost all the space on it. Then, I saw them turn to me.
“Anna, this is Shun. He helped me bring the gifts.” She introduced me and Anna moved a step closer, bringing her hand forward.
I shook her hand and greeted her, while she introduced herself. “Hello, I’m Anna Jones, the director of this orphanage. Thank you for coming by.
Her silver hair gleemed under the light, her kind eyes brightening as I pulled my hand back. My brows knitted for a moment, but I felt it, Anna didn’t have any mana in her.
She was a normal human. People like her were becoming a rare sight in the growing world of the hunters. Almost everyone would awaken their mana at some age, but people who didn’t were rare in this period of time.
Shortly after, Rachael and Anna sat together, slipping easily into conversation, laughter spilling out every so often as they exchanged small stories. I stayed quiet on the side, watching them.
She looked fond of the director, and somehow, watching her, a smile pulled at my lips unbeknownst to me.
After a while, Anna glanced between us, her eyes softening with a teasing glint.
“It makes me happy to see you like this, Rachael. You finally brought a young man along. I was starting to think you’d never introduce me to a boyfriend. Iris would be happy if she was here.”
Rachael froze, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. “Ah—he’s not—”
I cut in, adjusting my seat. “It’s not like that. I’m just helping her today.”
Rachael nodded quickly, but her smile didn’t quite match her agreement. Something in her eyes lingered, as if my words had landed a little heavier than they should have.
Anna caught the moment, her smile fading into an apologetic one. “Ah, I see. Forgive me, then. It’s just…Rachael has never brought a man here before. So it surprised me.”
Rachael, flustered, waved her hand lightly. “It’s fine. Anyway—where are the kids?”
Anna’s expression brightened. “They’re in the field behind the building. You can see them through the window.” She pointed, and sure enough, small figures were running and shouting across the grass.
Rachael stood, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation. “I’ll go greet them.”
“Of course,” Anna said warmly. “Take your time. They’ll be delighted to see you again.”
She looked toward me. “And you, Shun—join her. The children would love another friendly face.”
I rose to follow, and as I turned toward the door, Anna gave me a warm, knowing smile that lingered even after we stepped out.
As we walked through the corridors, there was this awkward silence between us, one I couldn’t break for some reason. Rachael didn’t say much, she just guided me to the back garden, familiar with the structure of the building.
Once we arrived, I glanced at the garden. No, it was more of an open field, really—a wide stretch of grass where the autumn sun poured down. The sound of laughter carried before we even stepped outside. Children of all ages were scattered across the yard: some chasing each other in a game of tag, others rolling a worn ball across the grass.
The moment Rachael appeared, a cheer went up.
“Rachael!”
In an instant, a swarm of little bodies rushed toward her. Tiny arms wrapped around her legs, older ones tugged at her sleeves, their faces lighting up like lanterns. She laughed, kneeling down, her hands moving naturally to pat heads and smooth hair as though she’d done this a thousand times.
I stood back, weighed down by the amount of tiny faces and suddenly very aware of how out of place I felt.
Then one of the children, a girl no older than six, tugged at Rachael’s dress and pointed at me with wide eyes. “Rachael, who’s that?”
Another chimed in, giggling. “Is he your friend?”
Rachael shifted, dipping down to scoop the first girl into her arms. She held her close, pressing a kiss to the girl’s hair. “Yes,” she said softly, her voice warm, almost tender. “He’s a very kind friend.”
The way she said it caught me off guard. Gentle in a way that made my chest tighten, the words lingering longer than they should.
But before I could dwell on it, the little girl tilted her head, curious eyes darting between the two of us. “Do you like him?”
The question landed like a stone in still water.
Rachael froze, her arms tightening ever so slightly around the child. Slowly, her eyes flicked toward me. Our gazes met.
Heat rose in my chest—I knew she saw it too. The silence stretched, heavier than it should’ve been, until she quickly looked away, cheeks faintly pink.
The kids, oblivious, laughed and tugged at both of us.
“Come play!” One shouted, grabbing at my coat’s sleeve.
“Race me, Rachael!” another cried, pulling her in the opposite direction.
And just like that, we were swallowed by the tide of laughter and tiny hands—dragged apart, carried into their world.
I let myself be pulled along, awkward and uncertain, but deep inside, something stirred.
Something I wasn’t ready to name.
The kids scattered in all directions, dragging me into their chaos whether I liked it or not.
One of the smaller boys tugged insistently at my leg. “You’re tall! Can I climb you?”
Before I could answer, he was already scrambling up my side like I was some kind of tree. I stumbled back a step, adjusting my scarf—taking it off and storing it inside my dimensional artifact—nearly toppling from my arms earlier flashing back to mind. “H-Hey, careful—” I caught him by the waist before he could slide off. The boy only laughed, hanging on my shoulders.
Another wave of young boys came crashing into me, but I took flight and held them before they could stumble and fall.
Another boy, maybe nine or ten, stared at me with wide, gleaming eyes. “Are you a hunter? Do you fight monsters?”
I hesitated, caught between truth and embellishment. “Sometimes.”
“Did you kill a dragon?”
“…No.”
“A giant?”
“Ahh...No.”
The boy frowned, unimpressed. “Then you’re not a real hunter.” He stomped off, arms crossed, while the smaller one on my back shouted, “I think you’re cool!”
I sighed, muttering under my breath, “Glad someone thinks so.”
The children kept me occupied, tugging at my arms, asking me to chase them in circles until my breath grew heavier. It was chaotic, loud—messy in a way I wasn’t used to. And yet…between the noise and laughter, my eyes kept wandering.
Across the field, Rachael was surrounded by kids tugging at her hands, her hair, her dress. She spun one around in her arms, laughter spilling from her lips, her face bright under the sun. I caught the way she crouched to tie a girl’s shoe, or the way she let another boy sit on her shoulders, her hands steady against his legs as he raised his arms like he was flying.
She looked…free.
And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen someone like that—someone so unguarded.
By the time the workers called the children over to the long wooden tables set up near the building, I was exhausted. The kids reluctantly let go of us, rushing to the smell of food. I carried the last straggler on my shoulders before setting him down and straightening with a long breath.
Rachael walked over, smiling faintly, her cheeks still flushed from running around, her hair tied in a ponytail. “You did well,” she teased. “Didn’t think you’d survive.”
“I didn’t think so either,” I muttered, though a quiet chuckle escaped me.
We drifted toward a quieter patch of grass near the edge of the field, a small rise where wildflowers sprouted in little clusters. The winter wind pressed cold against my skin, the air crisp with the scent of damp earth and blooms. We sat down side by side, the hum of laughter and chatter from the children carrying faintly behind us.
Rachael drew her hands together, exhaling softly against her palms. Her breath misted in the chill air as she rubbed her fingers.
Without thinking, I reached into the ring on my thumb and pulled out the scarf I’d tucked away after the kids had nearly yanked it off during their game. I held it out. “Here.”
She blinked, surprised. “What—”
“Your hands are freezing. Take it.”
Her lips parted slightly as she accepted it, the soft wool falling into her lap before she looped it around her neck. The faintest pink coloured her cheeks, though whether from the cold or something else, I couldn’t tell.
For a moment, silence lingered between us, the kind that felt full instead of empty. I drew in a breath, letting the words slip out before I could second-guess them.
“Thank you…for bringing me here.” My gaze drifted out toward the children gathered at the tables, then back to her. “For once, it felt good—playing around. It’s been so long. I was reminded of how I used to play when I was a child myself.”
I paused, swallowing the tightness in my throat. “Thank you, Rachael.”
When I turned, I found her staring at me.
Her azure eyes were locked onto mine, wide, almost stupefied. A soft flush touched her cheeks, the scarf around her neck only highlighting the colour. She didn’t look away this time.
And for a breath, the cold, the noise, the world itself seemed to hold still.