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Moving to the small village Technoblade considered nothing but a hopeless idea from the very start. As much as a soldier of his long career desired a retirement, he started to have a sullen feeling of such lifestyle being his fate for the rest of his days - he might not have enjoyed depriving other beings of their lives but he did find a pleasure, swimming in the brightest rays of praise and worshiping as the greatest fighter the world have ever seen. For centuries, battles have been keeping him busy, distracting from the lack of things normal people had but he simply couldn’t, for the reputation he earned for himself repulsed people as easily as it attracted. He was a flame: useful and admirable, but too dangerous to get close to.
Keeping all of the above in mind, the man was skeptical about settling down, but his dearest friend Phil insisted very firmly for his brother in spirit to have a peaceful life, pouring the weight in his words by pointing out he won’t be all alone, and he will be always there for him along with his beloved wife who Techno respected with his entire heart. Counting that farming would manage to occupy him for at least some time, the man had finally agreed.
The village was truly a dream of one who wished for tranquility. Small, neat houses with big backyards, vast fields, beaten paths instead of cobblestone roads and lovely nature that bloomed at its fullest miles around the little town in every direction, making it feel distant and relaxed. It was quiet, so quiet that the former warrior felt uncomfortable the first days, but found himself easily getting used to it afterwards, enjoying the stillness of the local life.
Just as he thought, the villagers were unsure about him at first, even if did their best to hide it. They spoke to him in a friendly and nice tone, but on some level he felt being feared very clearly. Which is why he scarcely left his house, being quite comfortable with his secluded days, spending them mostly in his potato farm that grew impressively fast. The times he wasn’t working on it he read, took care of his multiple pets and recently, he found an entertainment in carving and making small sculptures out of wood. His friend, although condemned his absolute solitude recourse, was enthusiastic about the man’s new hobbies.
Fearsome and formidable for almost everyone around him, Technoblade was more than surprised when was reached out to without a reason. It happened a while after his moving, right when he was working on the farm as usual. For the first time the man heard the bells that were placed for the visitors to notify of their arrival, and he, looking at the ground, raised his eyebrows, halting his hands in the midair for a moment of bewilderment.
Approaching the fence, he saw a tall young man behind it, whose young, unlined face and fluffy hair was split into black and white halves unevenly. He was holding a wicker basket in his hands, standing, stretched like a string in a reserved posture.
“Can I help you?” Technoblade asked in restraint, looking at him confusingly.
“Hi!” the newcomer spoke, his voice being light and amiable. “I, um, I heard you moved in recently, but I haven’t seen you anywhere on the streets, so, um, I-I just wanted to say ‘Hello’ and welcome you to our little place… A-and also give you this!”
He handed the basket over the fence, and the man lowered his gaze to it, seeing a bunch of flowers and grass ears, tied with the neat fabric stripe in a modest bouquet. Next to it, a small round cake was placed on the white platter.
The warrior’s confusion only grew deeper, and “Free stuff” thought didn’t make it easier to accept the gift. For a few seconds, he stood still. Squinting his eyes to look at the other closely, he asked:
“Do you need something from me?”
The guy raised his eyebrows.
“No, I don’t. I just came to make an acquaintance!.. And I thought you might like it,” he added quieter, lowering the basket on the fence post.
Pausing, Technoblade grabbed the handle.
“Well, um… Thanks, I guess.”
The villager smiled.
Bringing the basket over to his side, the man found himself awkwardly standing, staring at him. Soon enough he noticed the guy, although was facing him, had strange-looking eyes, and it wasn’t the difference in color that made them seem odd, but the feeling as if he was blurring his focus, also looking at the pink-haired one’s nose bridge instead of eyes. More often that would have been polite, he was drawing his gaze away to look down, to the side or anywhere else, just not at the man, who tilted his head a bit, cocking one eyebrow.
“For someone who looks so startled of me you really should have gathered more courage before coming.”
“Oh! Oh no, it’s not- I didn’t mean to…” he started so vividly, but then sighed and glanced to the side and spoke calmly. “Please forgive me. I’m not scared, it’s just maintaining eye contact is really challenging for me, and I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you and I really wish I could look at you like people do normally, but… It’s not easy, unfortunately.”
The man watched him for one more moment, when turned his head to the side.
“Alright, I’m not looking.”
The guy turned to him sharply.
“Oh-h, that is so kind of you!.. Still, I’m very sorry to make you do this...”
“It’s no big deal. You must be some sort of an enderman hybrid, huh?”
“I am! I actually have been living in the Overworld for only fifteen years!”
Technoblade paused.
“Well, should I refer to you as “they” then? I heard that’s more respectful for endermen, since they aren’t actually people.”
With peripheral vision, he saw the other gaze at him with gratitude and admiration. For a second, he was silent, suddenly losing his words.
“I- Wow… Um, well, everyone uses “he”, but I never understood those things, to be honest, so… If that wouldn’t be much trouble for you.”
“Alright.”
“Oh, thank you! Noone asked me that before, and that is so nice of you! Um… Should I refer to you in a particular way?”
“Don’t bother. I’ve been living here for ages, my “he” suits me well.”
“Okay!”
“...What’s your name?”
“Oh, I’m Ranboo! Sorry, should have introduced myself at the start.”
The man glanced at the black hand that they held out to him.
“Technoblade- Techno,” he replied, answering the handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Techno!”
“Mhm.”
Ranboo was a person of a lighthearted being. They were the villager’s gardener, knowing so much about plants the inhabitants called them for help if there was trouble with their greenery and flowers. They were taller than him, talked calmly, with a soft, quiet voice, being surprisingly courteous and timid. The big sleeves of their white blouse, similar to the one Techno wore, they sometimes hid in the long, knitted cardigan of their own work. They had a lot of hobbies: from gardening to knitting and baking - the cake, gifted to the man, they also made themselves. Technoblade was uncertain, when the enderman invited him to visit their flower market someday, but didn’t regret it when he did. He was welcomed so cordially, it bewildered him to the point where he stood silly, not being used to being treated so warmly. And unconditionally as well! That was the part the man had the most questions about. Hoglins were slighted by emotions naturally, so at first he tried to find a reasonable explanation, thinking how the enderman could take advantage of or benefit from him, but it seemed like they didn’t even know who he was. Probably will change when they find out, the man assumed.
He didn’t expect to become friends with them. A cute acquaintance, perhaps, but not much more than that. After all, the man was quite a lone wolf, so to speak, and never considered it necessary to have constant and regular communication, not having the talent of conversing easily with people he didn’t know well. And was very surprised when realised that wasn’t much of a hindrance for him when it came to them.
Technoblade’s heart warmed towards the timid person, and both didn’t notice how started meeting more and more often, talking about anything and everything. The man learned to draw his eyes away when the enderman turned their head to him, and even though they appreciated it with the entirety of their heart, a while later they understood that to look at him was something they genuinely wanted. And so, they asked one day, right before the two were about to bid their farewells:
“Techno?”
“Yeah?” the man’s head was slightly turned away from them, trained eyes gazing somewhere behind them.
“Can you look at me, please?”
The hoglin hybrid raised his eyebrows, but didn’t move the eyes.
“Why?”
“I want to be able to make eye contact with you, and I think I’ve become comfortable around you to try.”
The usage of words Technoblade found… Curious, but reminded himself the person lived in the Overworld for only fifteen years. Still, as embarrassing as it was, it managed to ripple his confident stand.
“...Are you sure?”
“Yes! And I really, really want to try.”
“Okay… Ready?”
“Yes!”
A brief moment later, the man turned his head so it faced the other and moved his gaze to theirs.
They stood silently, exchanging looks. Technoblade saw how at the start, the contact tensed the enderman, even though their expression hid almost perfectly how uncomfortable they were. Their one hand wrapped around the other wrist and rubbed it nervously as they were holding their breath, but they were visibly doing their best.
Soon after, Ranboo was surprised to notice that the bothering feeling had faded away, much quicker than they thought it would. Though moments after they understood that, the man suddenly looked away.
“Don’t pressure yourself into doing it in one sitting, if you don’t feel like it.”
The enderman didn’t notice the changed look on the other’s face, and he himself couldn’t understand why he had drawn his eyes away. The person smiled, and, putting their hand on the man’s shoulder, softly pushed to turn him. They made one step to the direction where Technoblade was looking, and lowered their head a bit to make him turn his eyes to them.
The hoglin hybrid complied, and hesitantly returned the gaze up to them. Seeing them smile spilled a warm, comforting feeling inside his chest, and he started studying the so endearing colors of their eyes which he couldn’t allow himself to do before. It felt unusual to stand like this, and the quiet humming of the wind with scarcely little bugs passing by and the noise of the grass wavering made the moment seem much longer than it actually lasted.
While Technoblade was noting how the little while felt, Ranboo was concentrating on the eye contact itself, attention being busy with physical struggles they were overcoming. It was hard to say how long it took, before the enderman’s lips bloomed into a joyful grin.
“I can actually look at you!” they exclaimed, and their voice sounded so particularly sweet like the chime of little bells. “Oh, this makes me so happy!”
The man smirked lightly.
“That’s good.”
Ranboo was a touching kind of person. They were very tender and so natural in the way they communicated with hands and unwittingly seeking closeness without noticing it was so lighthearted, that strangely, didn’t feel unpleasant or intrusive for the man. They were the only one who Technoblade let braid his hair, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt so peaceful. The two could sit in the middle of a random field, or in the back of his or their house’s yard, and as the hoglin would read a book, Ranboo would bring something sweet for them to treat themselves. They used to do it quite often: Techno had tried so many kinds of pastry he hadn’t tasted throughout the last century and never abnegated to compliment the skillful baker, to which they giggled lightly, accepting the praise.
Ranboo found great entertainment in the man’s hair and played with it as they pleased, having permission to do so. Trying not to disturb his golden glasses, they used their fingers instead of a brush, and the hoglin would surely deny it, but there were times when his gaze halted gliding on the printed lines as the other’s hands ran through his pink locks with gentleness no brush would ever allow. The enderman carefully picked up the strands and plaited them, enjoying trying out new hairstyles and types of braids. Frequently, they weaved little flowers into it, and after another time of hairdressing started to bring a mirror with them so the man could see their work at least partially.
One of the lonely trees with a wide trunk that grew thereabout the village became their constant place of resting, and most of their meetings they spent under it. Ranboo was sitting next to the firm trunk, unbraiding Technoblade’s hair while he sat in front of them, waiting patiently, having all the time in the world. The enderman tried a complicated hairstyle, and didn’t want to burden him with the need to wear it for long, knowing the man didn’t touch a single braid that they ever did him. When the plaits were gone, they took his hair and started distancing their hands, the strands slipping through their fingers and falling on his back. Finally, Ranboo moved one half of it away, opening like curtains, and slid their hands under it, spreading fingers and softly rubbing the man’s head to lessen the tension from bearing the former hairstyle. They smiled a bit, hearing Technoblade, who lowered his book and closed his eyes blissfully, sighed in relief, but was surprised when he unexpectedly leaned back right on them. Forced to move back as well, they leaned on the trunk, and the other lied on their chest with his back. Ranboo’s lips curved into a timid smile even more as they slowly wrapped their arms around the man’s neck, and he turned his head to the side so it laid under their shoulder, eyes still tranquilly closed. The enderman held out their hand carefully and landed lightly on his head, stroking the locks tenderly.
“Your hair is so pleasant and pretty,” they noted. “Why don’t you braid it often?”
Technoblade raised the corner of his lips.
“So you would be the one who bestowed the best care on it.”
“What does “bestow” mean?”
“To gift, bless with something…”
“Oh-h,” Ranboo chuckled quietly. “I see, I see. But those, I believe, are very exaggerated words for such a simple act.”
“Sounds well deserved to me.”
The enderman could only smile once again and lean their head on the man’s, joining him in his quiet rest and closing their eyes as well.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who noticed the changes in himself when it came to that suddenly special person. One day, there was a little celebration held, and the streets, decorated with different paper figures and flags, were livened up by people, who actively promenaded them in companies. In the centre of the village, around the very distinct fountain a dancing ring formed spontaneously. The inhabitants were excited over the festivals, and with the vibrant melody, played by the musicians of the small town, people danced, actively bouncing and spinning around. Ranboo was one of the most active dancers, they were having lots of fun in the rays of the celebration. The enderman was jumping around with one of their closest friends, Nikki, when the man was standing reservedly nearby, leaning on the fence of someone’s house while, head tilted slightly to the side with his arms crossed on the chest, gazing at them with the softest look and a smallest smile. It was then when he felt being watched, as if someone else’s gaze was poking his temple repeatedly. Looking around, he quickly noticed Philza, who stood next to him with a grin and amazed eyes.
“Mate…” he uttered to him, and Techno sighed.
“Don’t ask me questions, Phil,” he answered tiredly. “I won’t be able to answer any of them.”
Ranboo loved poetry, being thrilled not only over the fact that one is not supposed to understand everything which was their everyday life despite living in the Overworld for quite a while, but also how well the poets manage to juggle the words in such a way that they sounded together perfectly in harmonical rhymes. Sometimes, the enderman brought books and had Technoblade explain the meaning of particular verses, and it happened often that if the man couldn’t find the answer himself, they fell into long philosophical discussions, which never lacked of being entertaining, because the minds, raised in different dimensions, were thinking differently as well, and it was always curious to hear an opinion from the other. Ranboo thought lightly, with no side thoughts and the genuineness of a kid, but from time to time happened to say deeper thoughts than were written in the books they brought, surprising the other.
Noticing the enderman’s love for cooking, the man gave them almost the entirety of potatoes he harvested, and looked at their face blooming into an amazed and merry expression. Each time he was invited, and watched as the ender person cooked pies and other dishes out of the vegetable which they both tasted later and gave to other inhabitants. Technoblade felt something unusual but very pleasant when he saw them smile, and luckily, they did it quite a lot, especially in the man’s company.
Mostly, Ranboo was unaware of people’s standards and stereotypes, and the hoglin didn’t oppose once when they brought flowers to him which they grew in their garden. Techno visited it multiple times, and was impressed by the enderman’s great work, they definitely deserved to be the village’s respected gardener. They gave him bouquets for every possible reason, most commonly as a thank you for the smallest thing the man did for them: from the potatoes to explaining the words they haven’t heard before. Ranboo didn’t need a motive to bring the gifts, but felt a necessity of finding reasons, since that’s what people here believed everything happens for. One day, the two met on the way to each other’s houses. Both tried to hide their smiles when it turned out they were about to give each other a present, and both were surprised after seeing what the other made for them. Ranboo knitted a big pink sweater, while Technoblade carved an eye of ender on the wooden pendant that he hung on a string to make it a necklace. The things had become their most precious possessions.
The two were sitting under the tree, different colored flowers blooming around them, when the enderman was showing the hoglin how to make flower crowns. Their movements were much smoother than his, but the man wasn’t the worst learner, and it took him an acceptable amount of attempts to make a decent head dress.
Ranboo watched him patiently, their chin lying on his shoulder tranquilly. They were helping where they could, preventing mistakes from happening while repeating the necessary instructions again. When the crown was finally finished, they clapped their hands quietly.
“Great job! It looks so nice!”
“Thank you.”
“Now we match!” the enderman said, took out the flower ring that they made and turned more to face him. “Bend down, please!”
The man smirked, but compelled, and a light but voluminous crown landed on his head carefully and slowly. Lifting his gaze to them, the hoglin took his newly-made flower circlet but they bowed before he needed to say anything. Despite it being his first real flower crown, it looked good on the other. Suddenly, they jumped, getting up. Appearing to stand in front of him, they placed hands on their waist.
“Do I look like the pretty people at the balls?” they asked playfully, their body swaying from left to the right.
Technoblade chuckled.
“You do,” he nodded, smiling.
“Techno, is it true that in the fifteenth century people in skirts wore dresses so big that the people in suits couldn’t hug them around the waist?”
“Hm, I’m not sure, speaking honestly, but sounds very believable.”
“Have you seen one?” Ranboo asked, childishly bouncing around on their feet.
“That was a lot earlier than I was born… Why?”
“Oh, I just thought you have lived so long already, you might have seen the balls.”
The man laughed a bit.
“You are seventy three years older than me!”
“That is true, but I lived in The End my entire life!” they parried. “Oh, I would love to attend a ball someday, it sounds so fun! I bet- I bet people are all turgid and walking with such ostentation, they look very silly!”
Technoblade watched with a warm smile how they bounced around on the ground.
“I bet,” Ranboo continued. “That they would be like: ‘ Oh, Mr. Blade, would you kindly agree to dance with me?’ ” they bent very low down, barely avoiding the flower crown from falling. “And you’d go: ‘ Of course, of course, the pleasure is all mine! ’ and you would dance, jumping and twitching to the music!”
“I would never say that!” the man chuckled lightly, getting up. “But, I did dance and have my fun.”
He stood in front of them and, bowing, bent one hand behind his back while holding out the other to the enderman.
“Ranboo.”
They stopped and, giggling, theatrically lowered as well, elegantly stretching one leg in front of themselves, tips of the toes touching the ground, as they landed their palm on the man’s.
“Mr. Blade.”
The two smiled, and the hoglin pulled them towards himself, curling a hand above their waist. Ranboo wrapped their arm around his neck, and both fell into the active dancing rhythm. Techno didn’t use to dance like this, but being around such a sunshine that the enderman was, he couldn’t help but feel the energy spreading through his entire body and held them firmly. The two swayed from one side to another sharply and drastically, spinned around and jumped around the trunk gladly. Their crowns stayed on their heads miraculously, for the amount of sharp moves they performed should have surely deprived both of them. Hopping, bouncing, spinning each other around, they danced to imaginary rhythm, the only sounds were the man's quiet humming of a light melody and the enderman’s lighthearted chuckles, for their movements were so silly and pompous, they had a lot of fun just fooling around under the lonely tree, certainly amusing the nearby growing flora and the wind.
Dancing on the hill, however, wasn’t very safe, and both were always steps away from falling. One time, Ranboo almost did, the unlucky pace making them lose their balance right when the man pulled them away in another move while still holding their hand tightly. Being ready to throw their other arm gracefully, they suddenly slipped, and were sure to fall down if Technoblade’s arm didn’t circle around their middle and, catching them, spinned around.
“Woah, you’ve got to be careful there!” the man exclaimed, landing the other on the ground.
“Uh oh, seems like dancing is a very dangerous amusement!”
“Heh, it sure is.”
When the two returned to the tree and lowered under it, the sun was already setting. Techno leaned on the trunk and Ranboo lied down, resting their head on his lap. The man was unsure where to put his hands and the enderman softly took his hand and placed it on their chest, wrapping fingers around it in a gentle hold. Technoblade sighed unnoticeably. That little person was able to be tactile with such ease that the man of his status and past could never allow himself to have. But staying in their comforting company, it made him placate his cold restraint and warm towards them. Carefully, he landed his hand on the enderman's hair, and was answered with them leaning more into the touch, closing his eyes in delight. And they stayed like that, with Ranboo asking why on all the old paintings of the balls people in dresses always put their hands on people in suits' shoulders, when they were mostly shorter and it would be much more comfortable to hug them from their waists.
Ranboo was surprised when, returning from their midday walk in the forest, they found some of the village’s women standing in the street, grouped up in a gloomy gathering, silently staring forward and only occasionally whispering something to each other. Next to town’s centre, near the main fountain, Philza Minecraft, in the long green robe and his unchanging striped hat, was talking to a formidable bunch of people in uniforms that listened to him with strict looks. The enderman approached the women slowly.
“What is going on?” they asked Nikki, who stood in a visible uneasiness.
“...The war broke out between the SMPs,” she explained in a grieving voice. “The soldiers came to conscript our men into the army. They are leaving tomorrow.”
Due to Ranboo’s limited experience when it came to wars, they stood not worried but bewildered.
“Hm… Aren’t I supposed to be conscripted too? I look like a man.”
“Oh…” the girl paused. “Um, well, Techno told the soldiers you are a woman and you weren’t registered.”
“Huh? I mean, okay, I suppose…” that raised a lot of questions in the enderman’s mind, but they couldn’t help but notice the despondency on the female villagers’ faces. “Hey, Nikki… Why is everyone so upset? Isn't the army something that men are supposed to do as a duty?”
The young woman tried to curve her trembling lips in a smile.
“It is… But they are going to war. That means there is a high chance they won’t come back.”
“Really? Why?”
“...Because they can be killed there, Ranboo.”
The door’s of Technoblade’s house were always opened for the enderman, and they bursted in without a usual knock. They found him in the living room and froze when saw him.
The man turned to them and halted moving as well. He was standing with a knife in his hand, looking at their lost face with slightly lifted eyebrows. Next to him, on the table, the long pink braid was laying. The length of his hair wasn’t enough to even reach the ears.
The hoglin smiled softly.
“I’m sorry,” he uttered. “But I guess the next time you’ll be able to braid my hair won’t be soon.”
The change of his hairstyle, however, bothered Ranboo the least. They walked rapidly towards him.
“I don’t understand,” they said with a mixture of confusion and fright in their voice. “Techno, what is happening?”
“Me and the guys are going to the army.”
“B-but- Ho- Why… How long will you be gone?”
“Uh-h, I don’t know. A year, two? Nobody can answer you that question right now.”
“Can I go with you?” they asked with hope.
“Absolutely not. Don’t even think about it.”
“...Why did you tell them I am a woman?”
“So they won’t conscript you.”
“But why?! I’ll learn about war and I’ll be ready! I remember some lessons I’ve been taught a few hundred years ago, I can fend for myself!..”
Technoblade paused, staring at them for a short while, when sighed, placed a knife on the table and turned to face them.
“Maybe so,” he replied calmly and continued, frowning a bit: “But you are the last person that should know what war is… You may say that you have a bad memory, but believe me when I say that it is not something one can ever forget.”
Ranboo gazed at him with fluttering eyes, pursing their lips while lowering distant edges of the eyebrows.
“Come on, don’t look at me like that, I’m not dead yet,” Techno smirked and added in a more positive tone: “Besides, someone’s got to take care of the town, and you are just the perfect person for that task. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
The enderman didn’t reply. Taking a step to the man, they reached for his hand and took it in a light hold, looking at it.
“I don’t want you to go.”
The hoglin stared at their sorrowful expression with a heavy gaze. He looked away.
“Well, that’s not something I’m in the power of changing.”
Bending their head down, Ranboo closed their eyes and sighed. The man frowned and, freeing his hand from the other’s embrace, landed it on their shoulder and shook lightly.
“Hey, stop that. My whole life was a battle before I came here, I know how to fight,” he said, and when they looked at him, relaxed his face and smiled, continuing in a more gentle tone: “I’ll be back before you know it.”
They paused for a while, and the two were exchanging looks before they broke the silence.
“Promise me you won’t die.”
Techno chuckled.
“Okay, I promise.”
After looking at him for a few moments longer, Ranboo smiled faintly. Raising their gaze at the man’s hair, they reached their hand and softly stroke it, short strands escaping their fingers quickly.
“It suits you.”
They received a light smirk from the hoglin.
“Thanks.”
The next day the village woke up early. People were awake far before the sounds of the military truck’s roaring reached the town, each house being in a hurried commotion. With the vehicle’s ear-splitting, unpleasant honk they left the houses and gathered around it, taking the last moments to say goodbye. The men were insisting on their wives to stop crying and making a big deal out of it, though their spirits were trembling in nervousness, for neither of them knew if they would ever return.
Every man stood in the blue soldier’s uniform, having a small gathering of relatives around him. Technoblade had one too, he was looking at his friend’s faces with a smirk, joking about the situation, but could hardly make his close people smile. Even Phil was a bit worried, though he did his best to hide it. The older man wasn’t going, for beings over seven hundred years old were to join the army by desire, and his beloved couldn’t take another while, waiting for him in solitude while fearing and praying for him every day. So he stayed, and patted his friend’s shoulder reassuringly, but it looked like he himself was the one that needed solace.
Ranboo didn’t take their eyes off the man. They’ve been told not to speak much or do it whisperingly, so other soldiers from the neighbouring village, who were sitting in the truck’s open back, didn’t regard them as a man and found it unfair that they somehow stayed, and their deep voice would definitely expose them immediately. Techno was nodding to his friends’ good wishes and promises to write to him as much as they will be allowed to.
However, the time for the last farewell was terribly limited, and soon the truck honked again, calling the conscripts to take their seats. The speaking of the crowd became significantly louder, people were reaching to grab the last moments of being with their dear men as they were softly getting out of their friends’ and relatives’ embraces.
The pink-haired man nodded to each of the people that stood around him, smiled warmly at Ranboo and, turning away, walked to the truck. The men started to climb into the high back of the vehicle and, taking places, waved at their loved ones for a final goodbye.
Suddenly, when the engine had already started and the truck was about to start the movement, Ranboo dashed to it, running while hearing the worried calling from Phil. Technoblade, who sat at the edge and noticed them approaching rapidly, looked at them in surprise, but opened his eyes widely, freezing in the greatest astonishment when the enderman, stepping on the wheel and grabbing the handrail, lifted themselves to him, took his head in their other hand and, pulling him towards themselves, pressed their lips against his cheek. They quickly pulled away and as they jumped down, Technoblade tried to grab their arm but failed, and they both were dragged away by other people. The soldiers raised a loud “Woo!”, patting the man’s shoulder and, laughing at his astounded expression, cheerfully exclaimed “O-o-oh, would you look at that!”, “Someone’s just gotten a girlfriend!” and “Seems like you’ll be awaited faithfully, brother!”.
But Techno didn’t listen, not noticing being shaked and patted. He was staring at the enderman, who hid shyly behind smiling Kristin but was too tall, so they covered their mouth with the hand, head tilting slightly down but eyes remaining on him. They were blushing, and as the truck started the movement, raised their head and mouthed three words silently. The man leaned forward, lips parting from the amazement.
“Really?!” he shouted, stretching his neck while trying to outvoice others.
Ranboo nodded actively, smiling timidly.
“Holy sh- Oh my God!” the man exclaimed loudly, and as the wave of cheering from his peers raised again, ran his hand through short hair, part of him still processing what had just happened. The enderman had never seen his eyes being lit up like that, he was grinning, staring at them only while the truck was drifting farther and farther away.
When it drove so far that the villagers looked like little dots and the conscripts, stopping waving at their families, turned away and sat, the pink-haired man bumped his back into the seat’s and, leaning his elbow on the handrail, landed his nose on the fist. He was still staring at the distance even though no one could have been seen, being lightheartedly laughed at by other men for spacing out from the little smooch.
Well, he surely can’t die now . He is just obliged to come back, no matter what.