Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Come on, Senku, it's just a few weeks... a month at most," Byakuya gently scolded Senku while trying to neaten his hair, pulling it down and tying it more tidily. Both Senku and Byakuya were wearing what they called "guest attire"—tight formal shirts that nearly choked their necks and dark robes that only heightened their vampire-like aura.

It was early spring, but Senku felt the sun had truly burned him. And this tight suit only made him feel hotter. All these formalities were caused by one thing—or rather, one person.
His fiancé.

This wasn’t the first time Senku met his fiancé. After all, they had been betrothed since he was ten and Gen was thirteen. Of course, they had met each other since then, although only once a year, during the spring months. Sometimes, Gen’s visits extended into early summer, but Senku—and nearly the entire Ishigami family—couldn’t bear hosting guests during that blazing season.

It would’ve been nice if Gen visited in winter—or, if the lazy elves and wyverns refused to travel through snow, they could’ve come in autumn. At least both families agreed not to visit too often in the summer. The Ishigami family avoided the heat, and the Wingfield family avoided storms.

Though Senku couldn’t help but wonder why that was the reason. It’s not like his house was in the middle of a forest like the elves, or on a high hill and ancient castle like the wyverns. The vampire race was far more grounded and lived like regular humans. Besides, their food—ahem, normal food, that is—was more available in human settlements.

Not that vampires attacked humans in the middle of the night to suck their blood. All that inhumanity had been erased years ago thanks to the inventions of young scientists, the ten-year-old genius—in other words, himself—who successfully created a type of artificial blood for vampires to consume. A kind of bioengineered blend of animal blood and voluntary donor blood was enough to blunt the vampires’ fangs.

Unfortunately, that was also what made another brilliant scientist, Dr. Xeno Houston Wingfield—who, at the time, had only planned his son Gen’s engagement to his student Senku—decide to go ahead and formalize the engagement. Not that Senku complained; thanks to that, he had access to virtually unlimited information from the older scientist’s knowledge.

It’s just that... Gen... was a bit... weird.

Senku could only describe it with one word: annoying to the core.

As if Gen was an itch under his skin—the more he scratched, the itchier it got. Like now, when Gen gave him the most perfect yet also the most fake smile in the world.

While Senku was lost in his own thoughts, he and his father had already arrived at the front door, ready to welcome the guests. He saw a horse-drawn carriage roll in front of the castle. As usual, the carriage was extremely luxurious—while at the same time garishly over-the-top with its black and gold palette. But the king of the Wingfield Dynasty, Dr. Xeno—his mentor—always insisted on his own style of “elegance.” Senku could only imagine Stanley’s sense of resignation, the man being far more used to perching on tree branches than sitting still in a gaudy carriage.

Xeno and Stanley stepped out of the door first—one exuding a dark aura with sharp horns and wings typical of wyvern heritage, which Senku knew were nearly useless other than allowing them to glide from heights like a paraglider.

"Maybe that's why wyverns chose to live in gloomy mountains," Senku thought with amusement.

While the other one stood with beauty and the distinct long ears of an elf. The only thing that set this combat elf apart from other lazy elves was that Stanley wore gothic clothing—definitely influenced by his husband—instead of silky garments made of any kind of leaf.

"Kukuku, either way, Stanley is a combat elf."

Stanley walked toward the door, which Senku assumed was where Gen would emerge from, carefully inspecting the steps as if he was ready to replace them the moment the warrior elf found a faulty plank. Then, the door opened and revealed his fiancé, Gen, once again wasting resources with his eccentric staff.

Because somehow, embedded in the grip of that staff was the rarest magical stone—Aetherite—a fusion of amethyst and mythril, which, even if the size of a chicken egg, could sustain the life of an entire kingdom for five to ten years. And Gen even had two of them—one in the staff’s handle, the other as a pendant around his neck.

“It seems this fiancé of mine really is the most shallow and selfish man in the world.”

Back then— at their very first meeting— when Senku first discovered this fact, he couldn’t help but feel disgusted. There were so many people suffering from illness and magic deficiency, yet the noble in front of him wore two of the world’s rarest materials as mere ornaments.

Gen’s strange appearance didn’t do anything to improve Senku’s impression of his fiancé. Despite his wyvern lineage, Gen didn’t have wings—his paragliding—'that they were so proud of. The older boy only had tiny horns half-grown above his ears, along with the sly, irritating nature typical of wyverns. As for his ears, like any other elf, they were so long and pointy they nearly obstructed vision—especially when those elf ears twitched up and down like a cat’s.

Senku’s negative impression of his fiancé wouldn’t change. Not ever. After all, over the past five years, he had seen so many sides of Gen. Sometimes he seemed like the most sincere and kind person, so sweet it was nauseating. Sometimes he seemed like the most shallow and selfish person, a slimeball so cunning it was disgusting. Sometimes he was diligent and enthusiastic, spending entire days researching books in the Ishigami family’s library and garden. Sometimes he was the laziest cat, spending entire days—even weeks—inside his room just because it was raining or there was a spring storm. Not to mention the routine of having to bathe in warm water—or not bathe at all.

“Utterly annoying to the core.”

Once again, Senku recalled a thousand reasons why he disliked his fiancé. And now he had a thousand and one—as he watched Gen step out the door, holding his father’s hand to help him out of the carriage. He descended so gracefully and carefully, wearing a frilly purple shirt with ruffles at the hands and neck, paired with tight black pants that revealed the curves of his hips, thighs, and calves.

Senku couldn’t understand why—it was just a carriage. Why inspect every step of the stairs? Why be led like some delicate princess? It’s easy to jump down and your legs would be just fine.

“Who cares whether you look graceful or not?” Senku grumbled in his head, unless he wanted an arrow shot to the head.

Gen Snyder Wingfield, gracefully holding his father’s hand, the other hand gripping a Aetherite-encrusted staff, walked slowly toward them.

“As if he can’t walk on his own without his father’s hand.” As he approached, Senku averted his gaze in boredom. Already familiar with the Wingfield family’s routine of clinging to formality and bowing gracefully to their hosts.

Senku, who had been avoiding eye contact all this time, was forced to meet Byakuya’s sharp gaze. So, he reluctantly returned the formal etiquette, then looked at the face of his fiancé, who would surely wear that usual sly grin. That would only ruin any positive impression that never existed in the first place.

Or so he thought.

Until, when the two of them locked eyes, Senku saw someone entirely different.

His fiancé—now eighteen years old—had a face that was so...

So stomach-churning and hormone-spiking in three different ways.

So infuriating.

.

.

Chapter Text

Dinner that evening passed quietly.

Well, Senku was the quiet type—usually on nights like this, he simply ate his food calmly like a civilized vampire, while his thoughts drifted to the new science project he would build with Chrome and Kaseki.

On the other hand, Byakuya seemed to get along with everyone—except perhaps Stanley, the elf, who only responded with words no longer than “Hm” and “yeah.” Most of the conversation was dominated by Byakuya, Gen, and occasionally Xeno with his revolutionary opinions.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a book with you this time, Prince Senku,” Xeno remarked, without even glancing at him, though his cool tone didn’t carry any insult either.

Senku swallowed a piece of meat before replying, “I got scolded for that.”

Byakuya, sitting beside him, burst out laughing and patted his back. Meanwhile, Xeno nodded and hummed, “Hmm. That’s quite reasonable. Though I can’t blame you for pursuing such elegant knowledge.”

“We had to drag Gen out of the library just to get him to eat and attend a few banquets,” Stanley said with a grin on his lips, still painted with purple lipstick.

“Papa” Gen protested. Across the table, directly in front of Senku, Gen blushed in embarrassment, his long, pointed elf ears twitching up and down like a cat’s. Which, once again, made Senku’s stomach heat up and churn.

“It must be the meat I ate. I’ll ask the servant to serve something more tender,” he thought.

“No protesting, dear,” Xeno chuckled. “You even smuggled books into banquets using magic and your cloak.”

“Ugh.” Gen groaned and stuffed more food into his mouth until it was full, completely abandoning etiquette as if tossing it out the window.

Byakuya laughed again, his voice echoing across the dining room. “You’re just like Senku. No, you’re better. Senku always complains about why he even has to attend banquets—”

“At least let me pretend to sleep early,” Senku grumbled. “Instead of you going through the trouble of dragging me out of my room or lab in my lab coat.”

“That’s a genius idea,” Gen exclaimed, his cheeks still stuffed with food. “Father, can I use that trick next time?”

Xeno simply advised him about manners while Stanley wiped his son’s cheeks with a cloth. Senku himself was amused by Gen’s chipmunk-like cheeks, the way he ate clumsily like a baby.

“Not that Gen is cute, it’s just... never mind, it’s nothing.”

.

.

After what Senku considered a boring dinner—since he could only think of two things: his latest science project and how Gen’s cheeks were so squishy and his ears so sharp—Byakuya and Senku went out together with Gen to see the “future in-laws” off. Byakuya chatted the entire way to the entrance hall, while Xeno hummed as etiquette demanded. Beside him, Stanley once again held his fiancé’s hand—for whatever reason. Meanwhile, Senku walked at the very back, staying silent and observing in wonder at the actions of father and son.

During his fiancé’s visits to the noble house, occasionally—or rather, often—Xeno and Stanley would leave after the first twelve hours due to work. If it weren’t for the magical stones Xeno always gave to the Ishigami family—supposedly acquired during their travels—Senku would’ve assumed that Xeno and Stanley treated the Ishigami home like a reliable babysitting service.

“Or maybe that’s exactly what it is? The two of them are giving us rare magic stones as payment for taking care of their son.” Senku pondered. Not that he was complaining. Getting rare magic stones only made his experiments easier. It was a fair payment after making Senku look after his fiancé—alone.

“Tch, damn wyverns,” he thought.

By the time his thoughts ended, Xeno had already turned and was observing Senku from head to toe with an unreadable expression. Then he turned to Gen and gave his son a signature farewell hug. Stanley did the same, adding a kiss on Gen’s forehead and a gentle tousle to the half-elf wyvern’s black-and-white hair.

When Xeno and Stanley looked up to the sky, a slightly strange expression appeared on the elf’s face, followed by the wyvern suddenly pulling a thermometer from his pocket. The two of them looked back again, eyes fixed on Gen who was still waving his hand.

“Keep yourself warm,” was what Xeno said.

Gen seemed to tense for a moment—his waving hand slowed—before he smiled brightly again and replied, “Of course. Be safe on your journey. And bring me souvenirs!”

Senku had a fleeting thought about that strange moment, but Gen immediately distracted him again, as always, and there was no way Senku could ignore it.

“Senku-chan, won’t you show me some of those science projects?”

Senku took a deep breath and replied with resignation, “Yes, but sorry, I’m a bit tired. I might just rest in my room tonight.”

Gen nodded in understanding, though the disappointment was clear on his face—which was obviously fake, given how exaggerated his expression was. “Oh, what a shame. In that case, you’ll have to show me tomorrow!”

Oh, damn half-elf wyvern!
Of course, Gen always got what he wanted.

Chapter Text

The next day, like most mornings, it was only Byakuya and Senku enjoying breakfast in the dining room.

Several other members of the Ishigami family—especially the elders—lived in other noble houses. In Senku’s house, there were only a few servants, and his younger step-siblings: Chrome, Kohaku, and Suika. Who honestly weren’t much better than the servants, since they preferred doing chores themselves.

One other noble, the half-elf-wyvern who was supposed to be present in the dining room, as usual—of course!—was still sleeping in his room like some spoiled sleeping princess. Waiting for the servants to bring his food up to him.

Senku couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at his fiancé’s “lazy nature.” Seriously, he wondered why Byakuya tolerated it, considering nearly the entire Ishigami family was full of hardworking people. After finishing his breakfast, Senku excused himself and went outside—toward the yard where he usually conducted his “dangerous” experiments.

In the same spot, Kohaku, the girl who “ran away” to his house just to avoid becoming the next shrine maiden to her sickly older sister, was relaxing under the morning sun. With Suika bent down among the flower plants. Senku stepped carefully between the scattered sharp weapons before sitting not far from the blonde warrior.

“You’re running away from your wife again?” Kohaku teased while picking her nose.

“I can’t stand him anymore,” Senku complained without hesitation. “And besides, we’re not—never will be—married. I’ll find a way to break off this engagement.”

“You say that, but you didn’t deny it when I called Gen your ‘wife,’” Kohaku teased again as she stood to sharpen one of her swords. Then she added, “But it makes sense. I understand how you feel.”

Senku raised an eyebrow and glanced at the female fighter.

Kohaku swung her sword through the air, gazing up at the softly shining sun. “Gen is the kind of person who can annoy you down to your bones.”

“Rot to the bone,” Senku groaned bitterly.

“Yeah, that,” Kohaku rolled her eyes. “That half-elf-wyvern is... so slippery. His words are soft as feathers and his movements as smooth as a cat. A riddle easy to see, yet hard to understand.”

“Besides, the Ishigami family is full of people who are too honest for their own good,” Kohaku added.

And it was true. Nearly all of the Ishigami family—and Senku’s friends—were naïve and honest. Too honest, really. Even an idiot like Magma was more straightforward than a street thief.

Gen, on the other hand, was incredibly, intensely private to the point of being mysterious. He was easy to spot, easy to attract attention, easy to become the center of attention, easy to approach and pour secrets into. Yet at the same time, he was completely untouchable, so guarded, so layered in cloaks and masks that couldn’t be pierced. Like Kohaku said, slick as a cat.

“Gen... how should I put it,” Kohaku’s voice echoed in his thoughts, “Cautious, maybe.”

“What do you mean?” Senku turned to the warrior.

“He always wears an expression... like he’s expecting someone to sully or taint him. That half-elf-wyvern. Or... something like that.”

Her words were the final push Senku needed to make a logical decision. He muttered, “That means he has a secret, right? And if I get that secret, I can blackmail him into breaking off the engagement, right?”

Kohaku grinned sharply at Senku’s idea. Unfortunately, the smile wasn’t fully praising his genius plan. In fact, the girl might’ve been mocking him a little. “There’s only one way to find out. And that is...”

And Senku groaned when he realized one thing.
“...And that means I have to spend time getting close to him.”

While Senku was trapped in his own thoughts, Kohaku suddenly told him to be quiet, her sharp eyes narrowing.
“Looks like you won’t need to bother finding a reason to get close to him,” she said. “That slippery cat has already crawled up to your feet.”

Senku followed Kohaku’s gaze and found the slippery cat—er, Gen, his fiancé—walking toward him with his usual eccentric gemmed staff. Senku couldn’t help but feel amused, seeing that half-elf-wyvern wearing a thick scarf around his neck and fur-lined boots in the warm spring weather.

“Is the spring breeze irritating his baby skin or something?” he thought dryly.

Meanwhile, Kohaku looked at Gen with a deeply judgmental stare. First because of the two rare Aetherite gems, used as both pendant and staff ornament. Second, because a precious Ruby had become decoration on the hem of his furry boots.

For Senku, it made sense. It had taken hard work for Kohaku and her father just to obtain a few Ruby fragments—used as medicine to keep her sister, Ruri, from freezing due to her illness. But Gen, so shamelessly, wore two of the very gems that supported his older sister’s life—on his boots. And they weren’t even ordinary Rubies like Ruri used, but rather—once again—rare Solrubies. A single shard of which was enough to allow Ruri to walk freely through open fields.

As his fiancé approached, Senku felt relieved that Kohaku didn’t immediately chop off the cat’s legs. He couldn’t imagine the fury of the eccentric wyvern and combat elf if their child came home missing a foot.

“Senku-chan...” his fiancé called from ten feet away, but his voice was already echoing in the back of Senku’s head. “Senku-chan, you promised to show me your science project. Why did you leave me?”

Senku rolled his eyes and scratched his ear in boredom.
“I didn’t leave you. You’re just lazy.”

Gen clutched his left chest—which was ironic, considering the half-elf-wyvern’s heart was on the right—striking a dramatic face while twirling his staff.
“uel-cray, Senku-chan should be happy that his fiancé got all dressed up to see him.”

Senku didn’t understand the point of dressing up. It clearly did Gen no good, since he was already beautiful. Of course, because of his elf blood—not that Senku had any other reason.
“Whatever...” If Senku wanted to dig into Gen’s secrets, this was one opportunity.
“Are you going to see my experiment or not?”

“Yes!” Gen chirped happily. It would’ve sounded innocent if Senku didn’t know his manipulative fiancé so well.
“We’re going to get married, after all. No harm in getting to know you better, right?”

Gen twirled with his eccentric staff.
“So what are you working on? Something beautiful? Something evil? Maybe a love potion or something explosive? Ah! Could it be Senku-chan wants to make a love potion to use on me?!”

Senku walked toward the garden, his quick strides forcing Gen to half-jog, but still keeping close.
“Absolutely not. Especially not something as stupid as a love potion.”

He heard his fiancé chuckle behind him, then whisper in his ear,
“Wah, don’t get nervous. I’m just kidding. Besides, Senku-chan doesn’t even need a love potion for me.”

Beside him, Kohaku whistled loudly, while Gen giggled and smoothly spun ahead, cutting in front of him as he suddenly stopped. Senku stood still, lost in thought over the half-elf’s words.

“What does he mean, ‘Senku-chan doesn’t even need a love potion for me’? Was that another joke?” Senku stared at Gen, who was now crouched beside Suika, wiping the dust off the little girl’s face before saying anything about the language of flowers.

Since Gen’s first visit five years ago, Suika had been the closest person to the half-elf. It wasn’t uncommon to find the half-elf and the slime girl together—either in the flower garden or the library. Most of the time, they just talked about flowers and silly magic that wasn’t interesting.

Not that Senku hated flowers—he liked them, especially after the angel-faced devil he once saw as a child helped him when he got lost in the night forest while looking for experimental materials. At the time, Senku had only been seven, confidently exploring the woods for his latest experiment—until night fell and he got lost. A “devil with an angel’s face” appeared and presented him with a glowing flower patch, guiding him to the nearest village with purplish-black bat wings on his back.

That was years ago, and Senku barely remembered the figure. But he still remembered the softness of the flowers and the dim, beautiful glow of the magic that “angel-faced devil” had shown him.

The only thing Senku could do to honor that precious moment was to plant beautiful flowers in their garden.

“Senku-chan, are these flowers the science project you talked about?”

Gen’s voice snapped him out of his childhood memory. And Senku, slightly annoyed—or actually, very—replied rather sharply,
“Yes. But also, no. Don’t be stupid.”

“Isn’t that a bit harsh, even for me?” Gen sighed dramatically again.

“Don’t mind it, Gen,” Suika said.
“These flowers were planted by Senku himself. With science! So yes, this is really his science project.”

Gen’s eyes sparkled.
“Really! You mean these flowers were grown from tiny seeds? I thought flowers here grew through magic. Especially these—different flowers growing from the same tree,” Gen said, pointing at the cherry and rose tree Senku had planted.

If Senku hadn’t known Gen for so long, he wouldn’t have realized that slippery cat’s trap. Acting very interested while subtly doubting the fact would only make Senku more determined to explain the truth. And Senku—so easily baited—fell right in like a moth to flame.

“It’s science. All it takes is a bit of soil adjustment to make the plant grow. As for the different colored flowers, I simply grafted branches and stems of different types onto one tree. Then as it grows, the plant produces two kinds of flowers. The technique I used was...”

Somehow, Senku ended up spending his afternoon giving a full lecture on plant grafting through science.

And somehow, Senku liked seeing Gen listen to him—even though Senku was 10 billion percent sure the half-elf-wyvern didn’t understand half of what he said.

Chapter Text

Senku opened the book he had read ten times during this journey, while Gen and Suika played small magic tricks as they sat in front of him. Kohaku, on the other hand, was grinning happily as if she had just won a mithril mine lottery.

"Or maybe that really is what happened," Senku groaned inwardly.

Yesterday, after giving Gen a long lecture, Chrome had asked Senku to step away to check some scientific equipment in the lab. So, unsuspecting, Senku left—coincidentally, he needed some fresh air after that exhausting lecture. That was all. Certainly not because of his fiancé’s enthusiastic face, which for some reason was incredibly adorable with those sparkling blue eyes.

When Senku returned, he could smell betrayal in the air. And sure enough, whatever agreement or negotiation Gen and Kohaku had struck, the warrior girl had managed to obtain half a shard of Gen’s Solruby for her sister’s medicine. Senku, who knew Gen—the most shallow man in the world—would never offer help without something in return, had a very bad feeling.

And sure enough, in exchange for half a shard of Solruby, Kohaku had offered some very compelling promises.

First, Gen could meet the Miko, Ruri, and make any request—so long as it wasn’t strange or inappropriate.

Second, Kohaku had sold Senku to Gen—or more precisely, had allowed Gen to observe Senku’s science project to the very end.
Third, Gen could ask Senku for two favors of his choosing.

And maybe that was a fair price for half a shard of Solruby. But it was a price Gen would definitely enjoy—having dominated Senku’s experimentation time and winning two favors he could demand without reason.

“Alright, it’s not entirely bad,” he thought. “Ruri could recover from her illness and reduce her dependency on the medicine I’ve made.”

“Besides, if we spend time together, I might be able to discover his weakness and blackmail him into canceling this stupid engagement .”

So Senku braced himself with resolve and patience—for the sweet reward awaiting him at the end of this battle.

“I didn’t know Ruri-chan teaches children at this little school. Isn’t she a Miko?” Gen asked as they sat on a bench in the garden, waiting for the Miko to finish with the children.

Senku leaned back against the bench, replying, “It’s just her hobby. The kids like hearing the 100 Sacred Tales, and Ruri likes sharing her knowledge.”

Gen leaned his staff against the bench and stretched out his legs—causing Senku to struggle to look away from those long, elegant legs, especially with the soft, fur-lined boots hugging them.

“Even while the curse eats away at her body, that Miko still does her duties and spreads kindness. My, Ruri-chan is amazing. Her resilience puts me to shame.”

“Hm? What does that mean? Why would Gen feel inferior?” Senku wondered, confused. He was about to ask what Gen meant by that strange statement, but stopped when the half-elf-wyvern suddenly vanished from his sight and reappeared in the middle of the children’s group—scattering flowers and magic like a magician.

“Kukuku, illusion magic, huh? Well, he is half-elf, and elves love showing off their unique spells,” Senku chuckled as the demon-horned elf flaunted his simple magic tricks to the children, basking in their cheers and applause like little chicks.

As far as Senku remembered, unlike other races who developed magic for practical daily use—such as spells to find lost objects or high-level spells for pollination—elves tended to be traditional in their use of magic.

Elves typically used nature magic, elemental magic, illusion magic, healing magic, and batlle magic. Most elves only mastered one type and weren’t interested in learning others. A waste of potential, really, given that they had all the time in the world.

Speaking of magic, Senku had once caught Gen reading books about various types of spells—elf magic and those used in the human world. Yet, Senku had never seen Gen use anything other than illusion magic and flower magic—typically just for show.

“Hm, maybe he’s one of those traditional elves,” he said aloud. Senku walked over to his fiancé, now surrounded by children clinging to his arms and legs. For some reason, he had the urge to tease and embarrass his fiancé in front of the kids.

“That’s enough playing around,” Senku said, wrapping his arm around Gen’s shoulder. “My fiancé and I are about to do some grow-up time. Time to go, kids.”

With that, the children whistled and giggled, teasing Gen before scattering off to play elsewhere. Senku turned to see Gen’s reaction—standing stiff as a board, pale-faced and flustered.

“Cute.”

At least that reaction made up for the burden Senku would endure in the coming weeks. He left the frozen half-elf-wyvern standing alone and turned back toward the shrine. When he looked at the two sisters, he was met with a mocking look from Kohaku and a gaping mouth from Ruri.

“What?”
“I didn’t know you—”
“I didn’t.”
“Well, you said you wanted to avoid him, but instead—”
“I got close to him for my own personal reasons.”
“Personal reasons!? Could it be—”
“No.”

And Senku didn’t want to hear another word, choosing instead to storm into the shrine without asking permission.

.

“I didn’t know that Mikos and Priests are different? I thought you were the same profession,” Gen asked while sipping his tea.

“Our jobs are basically the same. We pray to the gods, ask for blessings to protect us, and perform rituals to drive away evil spirits,” said Ruri.

“Then, what’s the difference between you two?” Gen asked again, looking genuinely interested.

“Not much. Evil spirits and demons are generally the same, just called by different names.” Ruri waved her hand gently. “But if you want a general distinction, we believe in the God of Nature as our deity. Whereas the priests believe in the Goddess of Creation.”

Gen nodded repeatedly as if he truly understood—making Ruri smile—until that smile crumbled when Gen brightly said, “I still don’t understand.”

From the corner of his eye, Senku saw Kohaku pull Gen’s ear for playing around with her sister. It made him chuckle while he measured out the antibiotic powder he had made a while back. Senku commented,

“Don’t bother, Ruri. You’ll never understand an elves way of thinking.”

Senku sneered and grinned, “Elves don’t get the concept of gods because they don’t worship any. It’s because elves think they are gods.”

Ruri’s mouth fell open, while Gen hissed like an angry cat. Senku ignored him and handed the antibiotic to Ruri to keep.

“Alright, enough small talk,” Kohaku, as usual, got straight to the point.
“Ruri-nee, Gen offered a magic stone that might cure your illness. For good.”

Ruri, who always looked calm and composed on the outside, now showed pure excitement and hope.
“Is that true?”

“It’s true! I’ve looked into this magic stone!” Chrome—whom Senku had almost forgotten existed—shouted beside him.

“This Solruby gemstone is so Baad! Not only does it store mana, it also keeps your body warm. That way, Ruri won’t have to suffer every time the temperature drops.”

“Solruby?!” Ruri’s eyes widened in shock—so did her father, Kokuyo, who had been silently listening. “Isn’t that a rare gem? How am I worthy of receiving it?”

“Don’t worry, Ruri,” Chrome said. “Kohaku and Gen already made a fair deal for the stone.”

Senku scoffed. No matter how fair it was for them, he was the only one paying the bitter price.

However, instead of feeling relieved, Ruri now wore a serious expression.
“Kohaku, I want to ask you what this deal was. If I feel it’s unbalanced, I will never accept such a valuable gem.”

“As expected of Miko-sama,” Senku murmured.

Gen, beside him, widened his eyes for a split second—so fast that anyone but Senku wouldn’t have noticed—before his composed smile returned to his pretty elf face. “Don’t worry, Ruri-chan. I only made three conditions.”

“What are they?” Ruri asked, gentle but firm.

Gen waved his hand, speaking softly and sincerely. “First, I’d like to ask you a few questions and make a few requests. Don’t worry, nothing weird.”

“That’s highly unbelievable coming from you,” Senku scoffed—earning a light jab to his ribs from the half-elf.

Gen ignored Senku and continued, grinning wickedly with satisfaction,
“Second, I’ll forcibly barge in to watch Senku-chan’s projects. And third, Senku-chan will fulfill two of my requests without reason. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

Chrome, ever the innocent one, said, “Gen’s right, Ruri. He’ll just ask you questions like anyone asking a Miko. And he’ll only bother Senku’s science stuff like he always does. They’re engaged anyway.”

Ruri, who clearly understood the difficulty, could only sigh and give Senku a sympathetic look. Still, thanks to Kohaku, Chrome, and her father’s persuasion, Ruri accepted the gemstone.

Gen removed the Solruby gem from the hem of his boot, wiped it clean with a damp cloth, and placed it into Ruri’s hand. Ruri, on the other hand, was mesmerized by the gem’s beauty. A bright yellow light like glowing amber shone from its center, while the ruby-red color encased the amber glow.

Chrome was the first to speak. “But... how do we use it?”

“Solruby is a fire-element gem. But more than that, it stores and releases warm mana to ease pain—especially in winter.” Senku scratched his ear and began his lecture.

“My theory is its use and activation are related to mana. But I’d rather say it stores heat energy from outside. So as long as you keep moving and let it absorb warmth and mana, then—”

“Haha.”

Senku’s explanation was cut off by a giggle from Gen. Senku shot his fiancé a judging look, ready to mock him—when suddenly Gen leaned forward and grasped the Solruby in Ruri’s hand.

“Senku-chan’s explanation is too cruel,” Gen scoffed. “Instead, this way will be easier for you, Ruri-chan. Especially since you’re a Miko.”

“What are you—”

Whatever Senku meant to say stopped cold when he saw his fiancé close his eyes and begin channeling mana into the Solruby in their joined hands.

“All Ruri-chan needs to do is let mana flow into the Solruby—like this.”

Gen channeled his mana into the gem, followed by Ruri. For a moment, Senku thought he was witnessing two Mikos praying together for a blessing.

Then Gen began chanting a spell in soft elven tongue.

Something Senku didn’t understand.

Something that might...

Senku had the sinking feeling that he had just missed something very important.

Chapter Text

After receiving the Solruby gemstone, Ruri truly began to show signs of recovery within just a few hours. Her skin, once pale from illness, now looked fresh and radiant. Ruri was even able to walk around the town without needing a cane or breaking into a cough mid-step.

The progress brought tears to Kohaku’s eyes as she hugged her sister tightly. Her always-tense, alert shoulders now relaxed as though a heavy burden had been lifted from her back. Kokuyo could only wipe his nose and choke on his tears, watching his beloved eldest daughter stroll freely under the open sky. Meanwhile, Chrome didn’t stop shouting even for a second, expressing how thrilled and thankful he was.

Senku looked at the blob of happiness in front of him. Then his eyes shifted to the person who had created such overwhelming joy—so sweet it almost rotted his teeth. Gen stood not far from Kokuyo, gently patting the old man’s back to comfort him. When Kokuyo finally calmed down, he approached his daughter and hugged her.

And that was when Senku felt a gravitational pull drawing him toward Gen.

It was only when they were side by side that Senku questioned why he was approaching the very fiancé he wanted to avoid.

“Senku-chan, did you want to say something?” Gen turned to him, tilting his head slightly, letting a long strand of hair sway in the air.

Senku turned his face away, pretending to look at Ruri. He placed his hands on his hips and said calmly—as calm as he could,
“Not bad.”

“Hm?” Gen blinked in confusion.

“Well, you know. Usually, elves only master one or two types of magic,” Senku said. “I didn’t expect you to know healing magic too.”

Gen grinned like a cat, looking like he had just won something. “Of course. I’m an elf from the heart .”

Then he stepped in front of Senku and bent down to meet his eyes.
“If Senku-chan’s interested, I could show you my other magic too.”

Senku was slightly surprised by Gen’s sudden movement. He was already used to the half-elf being slightly taller than him. But seeing him bend forward and gaze up at him like this made Senku’s heart stir for no reason. He quickly brushed it off.

“Heh, you’re probably already thinking about what kind of payment you’ll demand if I want to see that magic,” Senku said, scratching his ear in mockery.

Gen chuckled as his grin grew sharper. “Of course. I’m a master negotiator.”

Senku rolled his eyes. “If by that you mean manipulator, then yes.”

Gen’s laughter rang like the chime of bells, echoing even as the wind failed to drown it out. And his smile—it felt warm, soft. And although the smirk remained as annoying as ever, it didn’t take away from its beauty.

“Beautiful? Did I just say that?”

Senku shook his head, denying it.

“Maybe it’s just the happy moment making us all teary-eyed. Of course. That must be it. Definitely not for any other reason.”

.

.

When Senku climbed into the carriage to take them home, he immediately noticed one person was missing. Gen.

It was easy to notice because this was exactly the kind of moment when his fiancé would become annoyingly clingy. Gen would dramatically whine about how Senku should help his poor fiancé up and down the carriage—just like Stanley always did for him. Senku, not wanting to argue over something so stupid, would usually comply while grumbling.

Just like now, Senku grumbled—but for a different reason. Though the source remained the same.

“Where’s Gen?”

Chrome, who had just returned from buying glass tools for their science experiments, said, “I think he’s still in town. After leaving Ruri’s shrine, he said he wanted to buy something.”

Senku couldn’t hold back his irritation. “Does that idiot not know what time it is? If we don’t leave soon, we’ll get home late.”

Kohaku, now holding a slightly more positive opinion of his fiancé, offered, “I could go look for him. It’ll be faster if I just carry him back here.”

Senku, although he knew that was a logical choice, refused. “No. I’ll go look for him.”

Just as he turned to leave, Kohaku whistled and Suika giggled. “Ooh, is Senku going to fetch his ‘fiancé’ and carry him home himself? I thought you wanted to stay away from him.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Senku denied, “I just don’t want to hear him complain the whole ride because you slung him over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes in the middle of the town.”

Senku didn’t want to hear any more teasing from the warrior girl, so he left immediately after speaking. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to ask Chrome what store Gen had gone to, so Senku could only guess.

His best guess was to search the streets full of jewelry and clothing stores—given how eccentric his fiancé’s Victorian-Gothic fashion was.

Senku didn’t understand fashion. He only cared that clothing could be worn and protect him from chemical spills. Who cared about this year’s fashion trends when they’d be out of style by next season?

“Though I won’t deny that Gen looks good in his clothes.”

“Wait! What?!” Senku immediately flicked his own mouth for thinking that. A chill ran down his spine like his tailbone had been dunked in ice. He quickly shook off the thought.

Senku focused on searching the streets for that lost cat. But after almost 1 hour, 13 minutes, and 45 seconds, there was still no sign of those sharp elf ears. Senku had even moved from the clothing and gem district to flower shops and the town park. Just as he was about to give up and ask Kohaku to find his fiancé instead, he heard loud and obnoxious laughter coming from the park.

Senku turned toward the sound and saw three swordsmen harassing a girl. Teasing her, more like.

“People really have nothing better to do,” Senku rolled his eyes, ready to ignore them and deal with his own problems—until a voice he knew all too well, the very one he’d been looking for, coldly snapped back:

“Pardon me, my dear,” the voice was still soft as silk, but no longer sweet as honey. “Sir, I’ll be polite because I’m tired—not because you deserve it.”

“Stop acting so sweet,” one of the men towered over Gen, intimidating.
“Oh, sorry—I guess you really are sweet, little elf.”

Hearing that cheap line, Senku sneered. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Gen absolutely despised vulgar and inelegant behavior. Senku nearly laughed at the distorted look of disgust on Gen’s face.

Gen rose from where he was sitting and began to walk away without looking back. “Pardon me, Sir, but I really must get going—”

One of the men stepped in front of him just as he took a single step. “Going? How about big brother here walks you home? You look cold and alone.”

Another chimed in, “That’s right, little elf. We could warm you up.”

At this point, Senku had had enough. That could be considered harassment—toward his fiancé, no less. Gen, on the other hand, wore a disgusted expression just as sharp, scowling as he said, “Sir, you’re hitting on the wrong person. I’m engaged. If you can’t understand that, then you’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

“Engaged?!” the three men burst into laughter. “I don’t even see a ring on your finger. Rather than using that sweet mouth to lie, why not put it to better use? Besides...”

The tallest swordsman suddenly snatched the staff Gen was holding. So sudden that it made Gen stumble forward a bit.

“Aetherite! Amazing! You must be filthy rich, pretty elf. Where’d you get a gem like this?”

Senku, who had been watching this entire time, completely lost his patience. Logic started to evaporate from his brain, and he was seconds away from baring his fangs and claws—about to tear their throats open. That irrational thought vanished only when he saw his fiancé flash the terrifying expression typical of a wyvern.

“Aetherite?! Is your brain fogged over?” his voice was menacing. “That’s clearly dynamite.”

“Dynamite?” the swordsmen muttered in confusion.

“Yes. Dynamite. A gemstone forged from nitric acid and sulfuric acid, soaked in glycerin for 10,000 years.” Gen’s eyes flared, his tongue extending ominously. “Anyone who touches it, aside from the owner, will explode into bits. Its blast power? Ten billion megaton-joules!”

Hearing that, Senku couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Kukuku... Ten billion megatons? This liar really says anything.”

But however ridiculous the lie, fools like those swordsmen would believe it instantly.

“Mega-megaton?! Are you serious?!”

“You better not be messing with us!”

“No, I erious-say,” Gen said again, just as the Aetherite gemstone began to glow with a pulsing light. “The explosion will happen... right... now!”

The swordsmen bolted with their tails between their legs, leaving Gen alone with his staff lying on the ground nearby. Gen smirked darkly, clearly satisfied with his little lie.

“Not bad, Mentalist,” Senku said as he walked up to him.

“Senku-chan...” Gen flinched, startled by his sudden presence.

“Senku-chan, if you were watching the whole time, why didn’t you help me? Do you enjoy seeing your fiancé get hit on by other men?”

Senku scratched his ear in boredom. “Stop acting sweet, Cinderella. You could’ve handled them without me, right, Mentalist?”

Although Gen wasn’t a combat elf like his father, he had definitely received some self-defense training. Plus, his wyvern blood was enough to intimidate and threaten. If not, he still had illusion magic to escape or manipulate their emotions. Senku didn’t really think his fiancé needed help—though, ironically, he had been planning to help him just minutes ago.

His fiancé, as usual, pulled a dramatic face at being teased. Senku ignored the fake whining and said, “Come on, let’s go home. Kohaku’s been waiting so long she’s ready to drag you back tied to the saddle.”

At the mention of Kohaku, Gen trembled slightly—as if genuinely afraid that the Lioness would do exactly that. Not that Senku would let it happen. Not unless he wanted to face the wrath of the Wingfield nobles. Not that there was any other reason.

“Alright, just a second,” Gen said.

Senku turned to watch Gen walk toward his staff, bending down to retrieve it. On his first step, Gen stumbled and nearly hit the ground. But before that happened, Senku caught him—his arm circling the half-elf’s waist.

They were practically in an embrace, right in the middle of the street.

When they stood up straight again, both of them looked awkward. They had never been closer than holding hands to get on and off the carriage. And now they had crossed that line.

Trying to shake off the tension, Senku picked up Gen’s staff and handed it back to him—which unfortunately caused their hands to touch briefly.

“?!”

Senku suddenly felt a jolt of heat where their hands met. He quickly pulled his hand away, awkwardly placing it on his hip and staring in a random direction.

“Let’s go,” he cursed his shaky voice.

“...Hm...” Gen’s reply was no less nervous than his.

And when Senku glanced over, he maybe regretted it. Because he saw a soft blush creeping across his fiancé’s cheeks and ears.

Damn it. Senku thought it was...

“Just too damn cute”

Chapter Text

BAB 6

"Gen, what took you so long in town?" Suika asked. They were now inside the carriage, with about twenty-five minutes and seventeen seconds left before reaching home.

Speaking of which, Senku was also curious. While pretending to read a book whose entire content he had already memorized in his hippocampus, his eyes subtly glanced toward Gen and Suika. They were sitting across from him, while Kohaku and Chrome were squeezed next to him. Not very efficient—three teenagers cramped on one seat, while Gen sat with Suika, who was technically still a child, monopolizing the other seat.

There should have been a better seating arrangement, but none of them wanted to change it. Suika could’ve sat on someone’s lap or turned into slime to save space. Kohaku could’ve sat with Gen and Suika, but Gen looked visibly terrified of the lioness.

"Probably because of her threats."

Chrome could’ve sat with Gen, but Senku felt uneasy seeing the two of them together. Senku, of course, could have taken that seat himself—after all, they were engaged—but the teenage boy simply couldn’t handle the heat that coiled low in his abdomen every time he was near Gen.

"Maybe something’s wrong with me. Maybe my hormone production is unstable due to something I ate or used. I’ll check later."

"Just a few snacks for the road," Gen opened the basket he carried, revealing several sweet buns and candies. He offered the treats to everyone, who all accepted with wide smiles—especially Suika.

"Mmm, this is so delicious. We rarely get snacks like this," Suika mumbled with her mouth full.

Gen grinned mischievously. "Really? Isn’t your household—and its so called powerful master—way too cruel and exploitative?! Suika-chan, you should demand your rights and justice. If not holidays, then at least proper sweets!"

Suika looked like she was genuinely considering it, and before Gen could further corrupt the pure-hearted girl, Senku cut in, "What are you teaching the kid? Knock it off."

Gen stuck out his tongue, and Senku ignored it. "More importantly, you really made me search for hours just for a basket of bread?"

Gen waved a hand mockingly. "A basket of bread that’s only made once a day. You’re lucky you didn’t have to cross a valley to get this kind of treat."

"Not our fault someone chose to live in a decrepit castle on a mountain," Senku teased.

"That’s rude," Gen replied flatly. "Besides, I didn’t just buy a basket of bread."

"Then what is it?" Chrome asked, mouth still full of food. Gen reached into his bag and pulled out a small plant pot—barely ten centimeters tall.

"A flower?" Kohaku asked.

"Ping-pong! It’s a wisteria flower," Gen announced. "I’ve been looking for it since last year, but only just found it now."

Senku raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn’t your father get it for you the moment you say ‘I want it, please’?"

Gen shrugged, resigned. "Yes. And knowing Father the Scientist and Papa the Warrior, instead of one pot, they’d bring me a whole tree."

"At least it would help brighten up your gloomy old castle," Kohaku laughed.

"Wouldn’t one full tree be better? Gen wouldn’t have to spend so much time caring for it," Suika asked innocently.

"Hmm, that’s true—especially since wisteria flower is hard to care for. But..." Gen made a thoughtful face, then a playful one that drew everyone’s attention. "I need this seedling to start my own project."

"Like one of Senku’s science projects?" Chrome asked.

"Yes, almost—but not quite," Gen said, curling his lips into a sly grin full of secret plans. "It’s a magic project."

Senku was never interested in magic. Not that he looked down on it, it just wasn’t as appealing as science. But hearing Gen talk, maybe he could set aside some time to watch.

Not that Senku was interested in Gen’s magic.

Senku just... wanted to see.

.

.

"What kind of magic are you going to show me?" Senku asked, watching Gen hold the flower seedling.

Gen smirked, "Is Senku-chan interested in seeing my magic?"

That was when Senku slipped up, coughing to cover his tracks.
"Well, I showed you my science project a few days ago, didn’t I? Isn’t getting something in return part of our deal?"

"Hmmm," Gen hummed melodically, his voice sending a chill down Senku’s spine. "But I don’t recall us ever agreeing to any deal.”

"Tch! Damn it! He’s right!"

Just as Senkuu was about tp argue back, Suika cut in and saved him "Gen!"

Both of them turned toward the little slime girl waving under the old tree.
"Gen! Hurry! If you don’t move quickly, the moon will eat the sun!"

"The moon doesn’t eat the sun—that’s all due to the rotation—ah, Gen, what are you teaching children now?" Senku groaned, glaring at his fiancé, who only giggled and followed Suika.

"If Gen keeps this up, kids will stray from the path of science."

"So, you’ll have kids with him?"

"??!! It’s not like we’re going to have kids!"

"We? So you’re going to marry him?"

"Not like we’re going to get married either!"

"But—"

"SHUT UP, YOU DAMNED BAT!"

Senku bit his lip hard enough that his fangs tasted his own blood. He ignored the little bat’s voice and chose to follow his fiancé’s trail. They were now in the southern garden—the driest and hardest to cultivate. People believed it was cursed by the ancient Stonewood tree, but Senku, a man of science, rejected that idea outright.

"There are no curses in this world," he muttered.

When Senku examined it, he found the soil had been contaminated by evil spirits and monsters for so long in the past that it became extremely acidic, making it hostile to plant life. Even fertilization techniques using sea shells had failed.

"Well, science is all about trial and error," he muttered, remembering the past.

Standing before him was the so-called cursed Stonewood tree. And standing beside it was Gen Snyder Wingfield—beauty and cunning wrapped in a smile sweet as honey and a morning mist full of mystery.

"So, what magic are you going to show us?" Kohaku asked.

"Are we doing something crazy or cool like Sonicbeem! Or Rainbow Bridge of Fire?!" Chrome shouted excitedly.

"Where did Chrome-chan even learn those words?" Gen grimaced. "No, it’s not that kind of magic."

"Then what is it?" Suika asked after planting the wisteria seedling at the tree’s base.

"This magic will feel familiar to you all—because Senku-chan taught it to me," Gen said cheerfully.

"Me?" Senku blinked, confused. "I’ve never used magic. Only science."

"That’s right. Senku only cares about science," Chrome added plainly.

"Exactly. Science," Gen confirmed. "Previously, Senku-chan made two different flowers bloom on one tree, right? By attaching or fusing..."

"Grafting," Senku finished. "What does that have to do with me teaching you magic?"

Gen stared at him for a moment. "Because that’s how this magic was born."

Senku blinked in confusion, about to ask for clarification, when the half-elf-wyvern had already begun chanting a soft elvish incantation—unintelligible to him. Gen bowed his head in a prayer-like posture, holding the Aetherite pendant in both hands.

A gentle purple light slowly illuminated the area, captivating anyone who looked.

Gradually, the same light shimmered from the flower seedling Suika had planted. It sparkled with violet light, and little by little, the plant began to grow.

"This magic imitates and accelerates the biological fusion process between plants using mana—connecting the soul of the plant to the elf’s mana, just like how Senku-chan connected plant tissue with science. Little by little..."

Little by little, the tiny flower seedling—began to grow taller. From just palm-sized, it soon reached Suika’s height, then grew as tall as their chests, and eventually towered above their heads. It spread, wrapping around the once-dry and gloomy Stonewood tree.

“This spell is called... Floragraft. Wisterial Bond.”

The voice was so soft, like the ticking of an old clock Kaseki had built—steady and chiming every hour. Its echo silenced the entire household, just as Gen’s presence had now drawn them into a hush.

Enchanted. In awe. Completely...

“It’s so beautiful!”

Who voiced what they were all thinking? Was it Chrome? Or Suika? It was probably Kohaku—she had the loudest voice.

Whoever it was, Senku agreed.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the purple blossoms hanging from the branches. They swayed gently in the wind, their fragrance spreading through the garden, while their lush petals cast a dappled shade over them.

“How could this be...”

“How did you create something so beautiful?”

“Are you asking about accelerating growth or enriching the soil around it?” Gen turned to him.

“Neither.”

“Both, I think.” Senku caught the mischievous glint in those beautiful blue eyes.

“Isn’t unraveling mysteries like this the duty of Senku-chan’s science?” his fiancé teased.

“Kukuku... seems like it.” And Senku was tempted. By science. Of course. Because of science, he asked again, “Why wisteria?”

“Because it’s ‘elegant’.” Instead of Gen’s voice, he heard a perfect imitation of the old wyvern who seemed to insert the word elegant into every breath.

Senku couldn’t stop himself from laughing—so clear and free. Followed by Gen’s chirping laughter.

When the joy in his chest had finally settled, Senku asked again, “Seriously, I’m asking this properly.”

Gen leaned on his staff, looking up at the blossoms blooming against the sunset sky—violet blending into soft pink.

“Isn’t it reason enough? Wisteria is so beautiful, especially when we see it swinging in the air. It’s just unfortunate that without a support, its beauty would scatter on the ground. Ironic, isn’t it? So beautiful, yet so dependent, never able to stand on its own.”

Senku frowned, not understanding a single word his fiancé was saying.
Not that it was his fault.He wasn’t sentimental—he was logical. He wasn’t a poet—he was a scientist. He didn’t speak in metaphors—he explained things with science.

Like now.

“That’s just flowery nonsense,” he said bluntly.

“Hm?” Gen looked at him, surprised by the straightforward reply.

“If this wisteria can’t stand on its own, then science will train it until it can. All it needs is a pole to anchor the vines so they’ll grow strong in a few years. If you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it to you,” he said.

Gen laughed. “But even so, the wisteria still needs something to lean on, doesn’t it?”

“As if there’s anything in the world that doesn’t need a little support—or something like that,” Senku rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like the support structure—or anything holding it up even cares. That’s just how nature works. And in science, we call it a form of symbiosis.

“Even if it doesn’t benefit both sides?” Gen asked hesitantly.

“Not everything needs to be viewed through negotiation,” Senku smirked.
Which made his fiancé laugh so hard it looked like his chest hurt.

“Well. I guess Senku-chan is right.” Gen smiled again—so warm.

That warmth spread into Senku’s chest. His stomach churned like a storm had erupted inside him. Senku quickly turned his eyes away from that mesmerizing, lethal smile.

“Even if you say I taught you, I only explained it—I didn’t demonstrate anything.” Senku was proud to have regained control of himself.

“So how did you learn it?”

“I taught myself.”

Senku looked up, once again meeting his fiancé’s eyes. “Seriously? You taught yourself? How?”

Gen, still with that beautiful smile—though his voice was tinged with nervousness, replied “Oh. Um. I read a few books.”

“You lost your lie halfway through,” Senku chuckled. “There’s no way you learned magic like this from a few books.”

Gen protested weakly, “That’s how you learn science. I just applied the same method to a different thing. Besides, I’m still half-elf.”

Senku guessed he was right—not that Gen was ever not right. He couldn’t argue. And he always had a soft spot when it came to his fiancé.

“Alright, you win. Still, that’s really impressive.”

When Senku looked at his fiancé again, he was greeted with that same smile.
The one Gen had been wearing these past few days whenever they were together, in these warm moments.

It felt so warm. So warm it could melt him. As if a heart as hard as tungsten could melt from seeing sunlight through morning mist.

“Oh. Now I get it...”

“So this is what it looks like...” Senku said in a voice he didn’t expect to come from his own mouth. Its... tender.

Gen furrowed his brows. “What looks like what? Is there something on my face?”

“Yeah,” Senku replied without hesitation. “Your smile. It’s so genuine. You always wear that fake grin, so this is the first time I’ve seen you smile like this.”

Gen’s eyes widened. For once, his legendary communication skills failed him, and all he could manage was a soft,

“Oh...”

Before turning his gaze elsewhere—ultimately looking down, pretending to study the roots of the wisteria at his feet.

When Gen wasn’t hiding behind his many masks, he looked so beautiful.
Or maybe he was always beautiful—and this was the first time Senku had noticed. Or admitted it.

“Could this be why those jerks were hitting on my fiancé?”

It made sense.

Senku was glad that only he could see this side of Gen. But maybe... maybe he was a little greedy.

When Gen looked down, Senku—standing on his right—couldn’t see his face. That white fringe covered it.

Not that Senku wanted to stare longer at his pretty elf face.
He just... wanted to see more of his Mentalist without the mask.

So Senku did the one thing that seemed most logical to him.
He reached out and touched that soft white hair, tucking the long strands behind the elf’s pointed ear. Letting his fingers linger there, brushing the hair and the ear.

Senku did it instinctively.
He didn’t realize Gen had jolted in surprise.
He didn’t notice how cute those wide pupils looked when the half-elf was startled.
He didn’t register the choked gasp that slipped from those soft lips.
He didn’t realize just how intimate they looked right now.

But he did notice how breathtakingly adorable the red flush was on his fiancé’s face.

The half-elf’s ear twitched as Senku accidentally pressed—almost pinched—it. Both of them jumped at the little gasp that escaped the half-elf.

Only then did Senku’s brain return from orbit and back into his skull.

“Shit! This is way too close!”

Awkwardly, Senku pulled his hand back, now holding a flower petal that had coincidentally gotten stuck in Gen’s hair.
He used it as a pretext. “Ahem. There was something in your hair.”

Gen made an ‘O’ face, then quickly averted his eyes yet again.
He didn’t fix his hair, and somehow Senku was glad.
He liked seeing his face that open.
The blush on his cheeks faded, but the pink on his ears refused to disappear.

“I,” Gen said, voice nervously, “I think it’s getting late. I’ll return to my room.”

“Hm.” Senku cleared his throat nervously.

“See you tomorrow,” Gen didn’t wait for a reply before turning quickly—his staff tapping against the ground as he walked away, like a cat scurrying off.

At this point, Senku exhaled loudly, as if he’d been holding his breath for hours.
He slumped forward, nearly banging his genius head against the hard tree trunk in front of him.

His eyes fell on the flower petal in his hand—the one that had been tangled in Gen’s hair. Senku felt very...

A whistle cut through his thoughts.

“Quick on your feet, huh, son? Teenage hormones making you impatient?”

When he turned around, he found Byakuya, Chrome, Suika, and Kohaku emerging from the bushes.

Senku wondered : how long had those three, who were with him just moments ago, been hiding there?
He also wondered : how long had Byakuya been watching this embarrassing scene?

Had he been too enchanted by Gen to notice? No! Maybe it was one of Gen’s illusion spells.

“Senku, I know you’re engaged. But it’s still too soon to take things that far.”
Byakuya lectured him like a wise parent.

It took Senku a fraction of a second to realize what his father meant.

“It’s not like that!”

Right! Not like that. It must’ve been an illusion spell. Or fatigue making him act weird.

“I think I need some rest.”

Chapter Text

“So that’s what it was like…”

A soft voice came from the most sarcastic mouth ever. The vampire who clung to logic and science.

“Your smile. It’s so genuine. You always wear that fake smile, so this is the first time I’ve seen you smile like that, truly.”

That voice, sincere and confident, praised the beauty of the elf’s smile, grateful to have been born just to witness it.

And now, the owner of that voice desperately wanted to dunk his genius head into sulfuric acid. No, not really, at least not yet. Senku still had several science projects he wanted to finish before writing his will.

So instead of dunking his head in acid, Senku buried his face in a pile of thick books. He stomped his feet hard and bit down on his fang until his lip bled.

“THAT WAS SO EMBARRASSING!!!” he groaned. Senku slapped his own face with a thick book. He still couldn’t believe he had just… acted… so intimately with Gen.

“We never even held hands, except when I helped him get on or off the carriage,” Senku grumbled. “And that hug was an accident.”

“And now we—I—crossed the line again. Actually touched his face.” Senku slapped his genius forehead, “No, it was his ears! For elves, ears are very sensitive—and intimate!”

“Damn it!” Senku cursed non-stop.

“But thanks to that, you got to see his adorable face.” A tiny voice squeaked beside his ear.

“Yeah, he is adorable. Wait, I mean, no—” Senku denied.

“No regrets? Of course not.” That voice echoed above his head.

“Yeah, yeah. I got to see his weak side. Maybe I can use it to ‘cancel’ this engagement again.” Senku justified it with the most logical reasoning.

“You’re in denial, kid.”

“And you’re in the stage of being a rabbit—no—a test bat, damn bat.”

Senku, tired of hearing his vampire bat mock him, chose to catch the flying creature. He threw it into a tube and started experimenting. Every vampire had their own bat, always hanging under their cloak. Some of them were useful. The rest were annoying, like Senku’s.

“At least you’re useful as a test subject,” he grumbled, ignoring the bat’s screeches.

Just as Senku was about to start his experiment, the door burst open with a loud shout. “Senku! You saw Gen’s magic, right?! That was insane!!!!”

Who else if not Chrome? Only he would react like a fool like that. Senku, forgiving his pet bat, turned to look at his fellow scientist, “Yeah, yeah. Amazing magic.”

“Why do you sound so uninterested?” Suika appeared in her round green slime form, like a melon. “Suika thinks Gen’s magic was beautiful.”

It was. But Senku would never admit it. Not in the next 3700 years.

Senku scratched his ear, bored, “So what are you two doing breaking into my lab?” Then he realized someone was missing. “And where’s the Lioness?”

Suika, still in her slime form, rolled around cheerfully, “Kohaku went with Gen to visit Ruri. Ever since Gen helped heal Ruri, they’ve gotten really close.”

“Is that so,” Senku, slightly intrigued. It wasn’t like the half-elf to roam around like a stray cat. Usually, Gen would lounge at home like a housecat, or bother him in the lab like a spoiled one.

“Yeah. Gen said he wanted to ask Miko-sama about some magic,” Suika chimed in. “And Kohaku went to escort him.”

“Kukuku, looks like Kohaku really got manipulated into becoming his bodyguard,” Senku muttered. “Back to the point, why are you two here?”

Chrome clenched his fists, “Senku, I’ve been thinking of a crazy science project! Rainbow Bridge of Fire!”

Suika jumped with joy, turning from slime to her human form, “Chrome’s right! Since Gen showed off his amazing flower magic, now it’s our turn to show him our science with those rainbow flowers!”

“That’s a fire reaction,” Senku corrected, “And fireworks. Not rainbow flowers.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Fireworks,” the two cheered. “We asked Kaseki to help set up the equipment.”

“And Kokuyo will prepare an open space by the lake in Ishigami Village,” Suika added.

“It’ll be an epic science show and a celebration for Ruri the Miko’s recovery.” Chrome, still a kid unaware of his feelings for the Miko, beamed brightly.

Senku mocked them in his heart. Not at love—no matter how rational and emotionally constipated the vampire was, Senku still understood the importance of love like that. But this vampire was… tired. It was enough for him to see his friend Taiju harbor his feelings for Yuzuriha for so long, only to finally start dating her last year. And now, Chrome, another kid caught in a similar honey trap.

“Disgusting.” “But amusing.”

“We should invite Gen to the celebration. And show him this crazy science! What do you think, Senku?” Chrome asked.

Senku only replied blandly, “Do as you like.”

But a smile slowly spread on his face.

Especially when he imagined the half-elf astonished face.

“Well, I can peel off each of his masks. This is excited!!”

.

.

The plan was to hold a celebration for Ruri’s recovery at the beginning of summer. Aside from the fact that there happened to be another celebration in Ishigami Village at the start of summer, it was also the final weeks before Gen’s visit ended. Usually, Gen only came in early or mid-spring for a few weeks. Sometimes a month. Usually April. But this time, Gen’s visit was extended until early summer. A perfect opportunity.

Not that Senku wanted to impress his fiancé with his science project.
He just wanted to test his science project. Several times.
So, when Gen confirmed that his stay was extended, Senku truly devoted his energy and mind to perfecting his science project. Senku had launched fireworks before. But 4 out of 10 always failed to explode.
Not that Senku minded—after all, science is trial and error. But this time, for some reason, Senku really didn’t want to fail. Senku didn’t want Gen to see him fail.

“Because I’d feel inferior in terms of dedication to knowledge.”

“Not that I want to impress my fiancé or anything.”

“Senku,” Kaseki startled him from his daydream, “Isn’t fifty fireworks a bit much?”

Senku turned toward Kaseki, the old dwarf crouching by a bamboo tube where they stored the black powder used for fireworks. “No. I was planning to make a hundred. For testing several new magic stones and minerals I got from Xeno.”

“Yeah! Dr. Xeno really gave us tons of crazy gems!” Chrome exclaimed. “Too bad we don’t have enough time to test them all.”

“We managed to test a few with the limited time we had,” Senku said. “At the very least, we need to make fifty. Maybe more if time allows.”
“Why the rush?” Kaseki asked.

“Hoho, is there any other reason?” Kohaku grinned behind him, a mischievous gleam in the lioness’s eyes. “Of course—if this science project is late, Senku won’t get to show it to Gen. Right?”

“It’s not like I want to impress my fiancé or anything?” Senku denied. “It’s just that the sooner it’s done, the sooner we can move on to the next science project.”

Apparently, that answer was useless. Completely unsatisfying to a bunch of fools obsessed with romance gossip. And Kohaku wouldn’t stop teasing him every time Gen was brought up.

Senku was about to refute Kohaku’s teasing when his eyes locked on Gen walking out of the shrine with Ruri. As if drawn by gravity, Senku left the work to Kaseki and Chrome and walked toward his fiancé. Completely ignoring the whistles and snickering of Kohaku and the old dwarf. Senku focused solely on the figure that had captured his attention.
Gen, still in his signature victorian-gothic attire—or whatever it was called, Senku didn’t know.

An elegant white blouse layered with dramatic ruffles, from the high collar to the tips of his sleeves. So dramatic it suited Gen perfectly. His waist and legs were hugged by slim tuxedo-tail pants. Accentuating his high, narrow waist and wide hips like an hourglass silhouette crafted in his laboratory. The Aetherite gem, as usual, adorned the staff he always carried and the pendant around his covered neck.

Where that level of detailed description came from, Senku had no idea. He didn’t even understand fashion, yet he could describe every inch of Gen’s body and the clothes wrapping it as if he were explaining the entirety of human knowledge stored in his hippocampus. From all of that, Senku only truly knew one thing. With absolute certainty.

Gen was… beautiful. Incredibly beautiful.

“Senku-chan, do you have another science project today? Here?”

That voice as sweet as birdsong came from his fiancé’s lips. Senku blinked three times to stop staring at those lips that looked delicious to bite—because he was a vampire, not for any other reason—

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Ah, how unfortunate,” Gen sighed dramatically. “I thought my handsome fiancé came here to pick me up. How pitiful I am, engaged to a vampire married to science.”

Senku rolled his eyes, “Stop being so cute. Let’s go.”

When he didn’t hear Gen’s footsteps following him, Senku turned back to find Gen standing confused, with Ruri giggling behind the elf.

“Why are you just standing there?”

“Go? Where?” Gen asked like a fool.

“Home. You’re done here, aren’t you?”

“Yes. But… why are you going too, Senku-chan?”

“Because I’m also done here.”

“And we’re going… home… together?”

If not for the butterflies warming his stomach—thanks to the success of the mineral stone test for the fireworks, of course, not for any other reason—Senku might have exploded in anger at his hopelessly clueless fiancé.
“Seriously. What happened to that sly Mentalist? Did hanging around the Miko purify him of all sin?”

“Obviously,” Senku sighed, “It’s more efficient if we go home together rather than taking two separate carriages.”

“But what about Suika-chan and the others?” Gen, acting dumb again.

“Kohaku and the others still have an appointment with me.”Ruri’s gentle voice chimed in. Giving Senku a little more patience before he seriously considered throwing his fiancé over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes to stop the idiocy.

“Oh.”

“That’s how it is. Are you coming or not?” Senku raised one eyebrow teasingly.

“Or would you rather be tied to a horse saddle by Kohaku?” The threat worked, as Gen quickly walked away, face pale and back trembling in fear. Fleeing the scene.

“Kukuku… adorable. Tch! Just too damn cute”

.

.

Senku walked side by side with his fiancé, but when he noticed Gen slowing his pace, he matched his steps. In the past, Senku wouldn’t have cared about something like this. He would’ve grumbled about Gen walking like an old man with back pain. And Senku would have rolled his eyes mockingly, ignoring his fiancé’s dramatic whining just to quicken his own pace. Now that he thought about it again, it was a bit harsh. Especially since Gen had clearly looked tired when they arrived at the carriage.

Senku felt a little guilty thinking about it. “At least I’m acting a little better now.”

“What’s with you all of a sudden? Is Senku-chan planning something on me or what?” Gen asked as if he had just read Senku’s thoughts.

“Hm? What?” Senku asked.

Gen glanced at their hands, which were now linked, while the horse at their carriage snorted. Apparently, Senku had unconsciously offered his hand to help Gen up into the carriage. Something that had never happened unless Gen first asked and whined like a wounded drama queen.

“What’s happening to me?!” Senku groaned. He quickly replied flatly, “Yeah. I just didn’t want a headache from hearing your annoying whining.”

“That’s uel-cray, Senku-chan.” Gen sighed dramatically. But he still leaned on him as he entered the carriage.

Senku followed shortly after, choosing to sit next to Gen while the other side of the seat was left empty, except for a few science tools Chrome had brought earlier.

As he sat beside Gen, the half-elf stared at him in surprise. The long elf ears twitched cutely while his brows furrowed. However, the half-elf said nothing. His gemmed staff leaned beside the carriage door, while his elegant hands rested folded in his lap.

As the carriage began to move, Senku spoke, “So, what exactly did you talk about with Ruri?”

The elf’s ears twitched again, in a cute way. Gen placed his bag on his lap and opened the flap to reveal several books inside.

“Books?” Senku raised one brow, confused. “What do you need those for? Aren’t they available in the Ishigami and Wingfield libraries?”

“Senku-chan, I wouldn’t be looking for them here if I’d already found them there,” Gen replied in his usual irritating tone.

“Some are information about flowers. And others about magic spells and monsters.”

Senku took a few of the books, flipping through the covers before skimming the contents. Apparently, even though Gen said it casually, the books he held weren’t just random ones. They contained information about rare flowers—perhaps extinct ones—since Senku couldn’t recall ever seeing anything like what was described inside.

Another book contained data and notes on flight spells and flying monsters. Not that flight spells truly existed. What was written there were still hypotheses and experimental spells from a few mages. As far as he knew, no race had truly succeeded in flying or using flight magic. Maybe demons did, but that was thousands of years ago, since demons had been eradicated by a certain group of heroes.

“Why go through all this trouble?” Senku returned the flower-covered book.
Gen took the book, opened its pages, and said, “I’m researching some species of flowers.”

“For what?” Senku didn’t see the point. Not that knowledge wasn’t important. It’s just that a half-elf like Gen could summon any flower he wanted.

“I can’t just summon any flower I want out of nowhere,” Gen said. Once again guessing—or maybe reading?—his thoughts. “Is my fiancé some kind of mind-reading demon or what?”

“I’m not. Just because I have horns doesn’t mean I’m a demon. I’m simply a mentalist.” Gen huffed. Meanwhile, Senku widened his eyes because his fiancé really nailed his exact thought.

“You’re terrifying, Mentalist.” Senku muttered, his entire face marked with black lines. Horrified. While Gen just smiled triumphantly.

“Ahem. Back on topic. What do you mean you can’t just summon flowers? Didn’t you do that with magic a while ago?”

“No matter how Antastic-fay magic is, it still has rules. That’s what makes—”

“That’s what makes magic and science coexist.” Senku finished. That sentence was a quote from a book written by a scientist-mage who once combined science and magic.

“Yeah. Exactly.” Gen shrugged. “A person’s magic depends on the height of their imagination. And I can’t imagine myself creating a flower I’ve never seen before.”

Senku nodded in understanding, folding his arms and smirking, looking sharply at his fiancé. “Kukuku, that sounds a lot like science.”

Gen turned to him, watching with interest. His gray-blue eyes glowed softly, framed by thin eyeliner and a sharp wing.

“In science, we can’t create something from nothing either,” Senku continued. “At the very least, we need a foundation, observation, and experimentation. Imagination sparks the initial idea, but it can only be tested and shaped once we understand the boundaries of reality.”

Senku shrugged, “Just like you can’t create a flower you’ve never seen, I can’t discover a new chemical element without first understanding its basic properties.”

The half-elf gave a faint smile, but once again… it was genuine. A faint blush colored his cheeks, hidden slightly by the setting sunlight. The long elf ears—what Senku would now call so cute—twitched a few times. But that familiar mischievous grin returned to the half-wyvern’s face.

“Perfect. In that case, Senku-chan can help me complete my magic project, right?” His little tongue stuck out like a sneaky wyvern. “Besides, Senku-chan still owes me from my bet with Kohaku-chan.”

Senku scratched his ear. “Ah, yeah yeah. That damn promise.”

“So what do you actually want—or should I say, what are you planning, Mentalist?” Senku pinched the half-elf’s chin until their faces were just inches apart. The half-elf widened his eyes at the sudden proximity, then quickly put an open book in front of Senku’s face to push him back.

“I want to grow an extinct flower.” Gen answered, still hiding behind the book cover.

Senku glanced at the picture of the flower Gen meant, puzzled. “Nemophila Menziesii? Isn’t this flower everywhere? You can even find it by the roadside.”

Gen peeked from behind the cover, pointing at the flower image. “Wrong. Ten billion point. People mistake it for Baby Blue Eyes. But the flower in this book is actually Blue-Moon Weed.”

Senku examined the image, read the data written there, then compared it to the blue wildflowers growing along the roadsides. Upon closer inspection, there were indeed some differences. While the shape and color of the petals resembled Nemophila Menziesii, the leaves and stem of this flower were different.

“Alright, I guess you’re right. The leaf and stem shapes are different.”

“Of course.” His fiancé’s eyes sparkled with interest. He scooted closer until their thighs touched. But Gen seemed not to notice, focused on the book in their laps while his fingers gently stroked the worn pages.

“The leaves of the Blue Moon-Weed are similar to the Asiatic Dayflower. But the petals are like those of the Baby Blue Eyes.” Gen created a stalk of the flower he mentioned and lined it up with the image in the book.

“The petal size is different, this flower is larger than the Baby Blue Eyes. I think almost palm-sized. That’s about—”

“About ten centimeters in diameter. That’s twice the size of a Nemophila blossom.”

“Yes!” Gen sang, “Besides, even though the color is almost the same, if you place them side by side, Senku-chan, you’ll see the difference. Blue Moon-Weed has five petals. And each petal is heart-shaped—almost like butterfly wings. It’s very—”

“Very beautiful. Lovely.” Senku finished. But whether he meant the flower Gen was describing or the joyful smile and sparkling eyes of his fiancé while speaking, Senku wasn’t sure which.

“That’s why…” Gen grinned slyly, “Would you, Ishigami Senku, become the first scientist to successfully recreate a long-extinct flower?”

Senku scratched his ear. “I don’t know, I’ve got a huge backlog of projects.”

Gen pouted, almost adorably enough for Senku to want to bite him and suck his blood. “Come on, Senku-chan. I guarantee ten billion percent you won’t regret it.”

“And what makes you ten billion percent sure, Mentalist?” Senku challenged.

Gen, grinning even wider, “Because you’ll see a thousand skies beneath your feet.”

"Hearing that determination, Senku’s eyes sparkled with fascination, his smile widening just like when a science project piqued his interest.

“Alright. I guess this is ten billion percent tempting.”

Chapter Text

BAB 8

“Gen. Open the door. Stop grooming yourself and get out here, or you’ll never get to see Senkuu’s science project you’ve been working on that you’ve been waiting for,” Suika shouted while knocking on the half-elf’s bedroom door.

“Out of the way, Suika. I’m going to break this door down and drag that lazy elf out myself,” Kohaku drew her sword from its sheathlooking ready to destroy the door and force it open.. Fortunately, Chrome was just barely able to hold back the rampaging lioness.

“Stop that, Lioness—”

“I’M NOT A LIONESS!”

“Whatever.” Senkuu scratched his ear, which was nearly deafened, “I can’t let a wild gorilla destroy my furniture in my house”

“GORILLA!! At least Lioness sounds better,” Kohaku shouted again in his ear, her face flushing as she admitted the nickname ‘Lioness’ was better than ‘Wild Gorilla.’

“Forget it, what’s more important is that we get Gen out or the celebration will be delayed,” Chrome intervened.

It was rare for Senkuu to even bother arguing this long, so much that Chrome had to step in to separate them. Maybe something was wrong with his dinner. Senkuu scoffed as he pushed Chrome aside and knocked on the door hard enough to almost break it.

“Oi, Gen! If you’re planning on going, hurry up and come out! Or we’re leaving you behind.”

Just like ten minutes ago, only silence responded from behind the door. Senkuu was about to pound on it again, when finally the sound of a cane tapping the floor echoed from inside, stopping right in front of them. Yet the door right in front of his nose didn’t open at all, becoming a barrier between Senkuu and Gen as if what stood before him wasn’t a door, but a deep chasm of ignorance.

“Ahaha...” a laugh as delicate as the first crackle of sodium reacting with water—light, but impossible to ignore. It announced the presence of the elf hiding from them, “Orry-say. I can’t come out right now.”

“You can’t?” Senkuu frowned. “Why not?”

“Well, you know, Senkuu-chan, a storm just been pouring over this area the past few days. I’m not sure it’s safe to start a celebration... whatever it is.”

Senkuu snorted, “That’s nonsense. The storm passed last night. I’m 10 billion percent sure tonight’s weather will be clear and cloudless.”

“Senkuu’s right,” Chrome shouted convincingly, “We already did the extremely difficult weather calculations! There’s no way we were wrong! The storm won’t come!”

“Senkuu exploited all of us to prepare the celebration area again, right after it got wrecked by the storm for the past few day. It’d be a waste if you don’t come,” Kohaku said, with a slight teasing tone toward Senkuu in her words.

“Orry-say, but I still can’t.” Gen brushed off the persuasion with a tone so cheerful it was almost annoying. So annoying, in fact, that the half-elf sounded as if he completely belittled all their efforts.

“Why?!” They were all just a hair’s breadth away from yanking out the half-elf’s hair

Instead of answering seriously, Gen replied nonchalantly, his voice light as a feather, “Even if the storm’s over, it’s still cold outside. I refuse to leave the warmth of my room.”

Senkuu clenched his teeth in frustration, nearly giving himself an aneurysm, “Cut the crap! Don’t act like you don’t have another rare gemstone on your body like the sick people ouside do. And you’re not even sick—You’re 10 billion percent healthy. Stop acting like a bit of cold is gonna kill you. Get out now, or I’ll drag your ass out and tie it to a horse saddle myself.”

Even after being yelled at by Senkuu, Gen still responded cheerfully and calmly, “That’s not a good way to negotiate, Senkuu-chan. Besides, if you just want to test your science project, I don’t need to be there, do I?”

“For the love of the gods! I’m going to smack this damn elf’s ass!” Senkuu took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from dying of a stroke. “Look who’s talking. You’re the one who’s been whining every day during your visit just to see my science project.”

“Senkuu’s right!” Suika shouted, though her voice sounded a bit desperate, “We worked hard to prepare this celebration so Gen could see the rainbow flowers with us before going home. Can’t you come?”

Silence fell over the room as if it gave them a flicker of hope. Only to be extinguished by the light-as-air, cheerful voice again, “Do you mean the fireworks? Oh come on, Senkuu-chan, that’s just an extension of a fire reaction experiment. All you need is some black powder and a few gems to make color. I was wondering what kind of amazing science project you were working on—turns out, it’s nothing more than a kiddie science project”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. I thought Senkuu-chan would create an amazing science project and make history again. But… hahaha, fireworks? It’s not like I’ve never seen them. My  Father used to make them for me,” the mocking laugh rang from behind the door, full of condescension, “Sorry, but I’m really not interested. You guys can go without me.”

Senkuu clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh. His eyes widened in fury, glaring at the door as if his gaze could pierce the thick wood and kill the half-elf right then and there.

“But, Gen. We moved up the celebration so you could—”

“Suika-chan, don’t forget this is a celebration for Ruri-chan’s recovery from the illness she suffered for 18 years,” Gen cut off the slime girl’s words, “I never asked for it, remember.”

“But—”

“Hope you all enjoy the celebration.”

Right after Gen said that, the sound of his cane tapping echoed once again, slowly fading into silence. Truly, only a creaky old door and wall separated them, yet why did it feel like an invisible chasm had split them apart? As if they were in different dimensions.

Senkuu, on the other hand, felt humiliated and deeply insulted. How could Gen look down on a science project he had poured his heart into? Dismissing it as nothing more than a kiddie science project?

His pupils narrowed and fangs sharpened, his mind clouded with irrational emotions.

“Tch! I need to cool my head.”

“Let’s go!” Senkuu said coldly, “If that damn elf doesn’t want to come, then leave him be.”

Just as he turned away, he saw Byakuya waiting, his usually cheerful face looking deeply worried. The gaze of the old vampire—in this case, his father—was fixed on the door where Gen hid. A mix of emotions shimmered in his red eyes. Sadness. Anxiety. Pity. Sympathy. And a bunch of other disgusting emotions.

Were those emotions from the old silent mirror meant for Senkuu?

Senkuu gritted his teeth until his vampire fangs tore through his lip. His own bitter blood speard on his tongue.

“You’re not going either, old man?”

Byakuya didn’t answer right away. His gaze remained locked on the door as if he were reading something invisible on its surface. Then, putting on a rarely seen wise expression, he said, “Haha, if I leave, who will stay with Gen?”

The old vampire gently patted Senkuu’s shoulder, finally looking at him after so long staring at that never-to-open door, “Enjoy the celebration, son.”

“Of course.” Senkuu scoffed, then said sarcastically, “It’ll probably be more fun without the drama queen clinging to my arm like a pesky bug.”

Senkuu wouldn’t be surprised if Gen heard him. Rather, he didn’t care if Gen was offended by his words. Well, in any case, his original goal was to annul their engagement.

This might be a good chance.

That’s what he thought.

When Senkuu stepped out of the house, he looked up at the starry night sky, bright with not a single cloud. The night wind blew, rustling his spiked hair and making his vampire cloak flutter.

“Brrr—it’s pretty cold tonight.”

Senkuu heard someone shiver behind him. Maybe Chrome, or Suika. Certainly not Kohaku, because that Lioness was tough and resilient. Whatever it was, who cared? It was just the cold night wind.

“Don’t be dramatic like the cold’s gonna kill you. The cold wind won’t kill you.”

.

.

Boom!

The sound of the first firework cracked through the night sky like the splitting of an atomic nucleus in a vacuum. Multicolored lights shone in the darkness, a perfect parabolic arc—following the law of gravity just as precisely as the theory written in his books.

Senkuu looked up, squinting slightly as the spectrum of light produced by the excitation of metal electrons in various compounds exploded across the night sky. Strontium for red, barium for green, copper for blue—shining so brightly they nearly rivaled stars millions of light-years away.

Although the storm had battered this region for the past three days, the villagers had managed to prepare the celebration as if nothing had happened. As if the storm that had hit was nothing more than a passing breeze bringing greetings. Now, tonight, the sky was clear. Not a single cloud in sight. As if the atmosphere knew better than to interfere with visibility, as if it supported his plan, supported his experiment.

A perfect night.

But that perfection mocked him. It stomped on his wounded pride.
“kiddie science project... huh...” Senkuu muttered to the night wind and rustling leaves.

“Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”

Boom!

The second firework exploded right on his tenth count, silver sparks spreading like ions spiraling out of control in an electric field. Beautiful. Brief. And gone.

“Nothing more than an alkali metal combustion reaction in low-pressure oxygen,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the fading ghost of the firework.

Senkuu counted again. This time, it only took 5 seconds before the third firework launched from the third bamboo tube. Sparks split the night air before exploding into a bluish-green light.

“Hmm. Its speed is about 120 meters per second, exploding at an altitude of 730 meters. Diameter abaout 20 meters, before detonating about 2 seconds later.”

Senkuu pulled out a small notebook from his waist pouch, brushed the crumpled paper, and began writing on it.

“"Coordination between the first, second, and third bamboo tubes is a mess. The spread rate and particle explosion timing are way off from our previous estimates. Maybe due to the nitrate ratio... or maybe tonight’s air temperature affected the fireworks and their fuel."

As if to answer his hypothesis, a gust of night wind blew hard, fluttering his vampire cloak. It was cold. But vampires were always used to cold temperatures. Senkuu could still run around cheerfully through the storm that had raged the last three days. Unlike Gen, who hadn’t left his room since the storm hit their area.

“Ah. That means the last time I saw him was three days ago.”

Senkuu tapped his notebook, writing again.

“Conclusion: Tonight’s fireworks exploded perfectly. But... not all variables are incomplete.”

The fourth explosion painted the sky, accompanied by joyful cheers from villagers praying for their Miko’s recovery and drunk on happiness. Purple and silver lights—the colors of a certain half-elf-wyvern—lit up the darkness so brightly it nearly blinded the eyes.

This time, Senkuu didn’t lift his face. He just stood there silently, listening to the firework bursts and the cheerful cheers around him. Counting the time in silence and continuing to observe his experiment until the end. As much as Senkuu wanted to drag his feet away from this suffocating atmosphere of happiness, he remained rooted in place.

Ishigami Senkuu wasn’t heartbroken. He was just... disappointed that his fiancé had belittled an experiment he had poured his heart into, something he thought his fiancé would love.

After all, Senkuu was a sc­­­­ientist in pursuit of knowledge.

Senkuu let out a heavy breath, a thin mist escaping from his mouth,

“Oi, Gen. Are you watching from over there?”

.

“Senkuu-chan, can’t we recreate the Blue Moon-Weed using grafting technique—whatever that is?”  Gen’s voice asked from not far behind him. When Senkuu glanced over, the witch who walked between the black and white of the world was crouching beside one of the Nemophila Menziesii flower pots.

“If our goal is to ‘bring back to life’ a flower that’s been extinct for a century, then that method won’t do.” Senkuu scratched at his hair, damp with sweat. Lifting several pots of flowering plants was enough to make his body sweat.

Gen stood from his crouching position, walking with his elegant staff tapping against the ground toward him. When there was only half a meter left between them—or in this case, right in front of him—the elf pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Senkuu wondered silently what it was for, which was quickly answered as Gen reached out to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

The distance between them was very close. Close enough for Senkuu to inhale the lavender fragrance that always lingered from his elven fiancé’s body. That little distance made Senkuu’s stomach churn, as if his insides were being stirred and twisted around. What annoyed him was that the elf who had blushed shyly a few days ago now seemed completely unaffected by their proximity. Instead, the elf didn’t pay him any mind at all and chose to focus on the little blue flower seedlings in a pot not far from them.

“Damn flowers! You’re stealing him from me!”

“Senku-chan!”

The elf’s voice rose an octave with a light slap to his cheek. Senkuu blinked three times before focusing his gaze on the elf in front of him. The elf frowned, then sighed.  “Good grief, Senkuu-chan, I called you three times already. Did lifting a few pots melt that genius brain of yours? Don’t you need more physical training?”

“Ah. Yeah. Yeah. So, what was that?” Senkuu sighed, confusion clouding his head. Had he really gotten so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the elf calling out to him? Ah, maybe he was just tired.

Gen rolled his eyes before returning the handkerchief to his pocket.

“Ah, too bad. I was enjoying that. The scent, of course.”

“I asked, why isn’t grafting technique suitable?”

Senkuu turned his gaze away from the elf in front of him, choosing instead to look at the blue flowers lying nearby. “Because that technique only fuses two plants into one body. We might be able to graft Nemophila Menziesii onto Asiatic Dayflower stems. Too bad that’s just fusion, not ‘recreation’. The most appropriate step is to crossbreed them generatively. It’ll be a bit difficult to find a compatible hybrid combination for a flower that’s been extinct for a century, but the result will surely be—you get it?”

Those grayish-blue eyes seemed to spin for a moment before the elf replied with a lie as light as air, “Sort of. The point is, if we want to ‘recreate’ the Blue Moon-Weed, we need a genetic combination that matches this extinct flower? So, what exactly do we need to do?”

Senkuu rolled his eyes. Even after finishing a simple theory explanation, all his fiancé could retain were the last two sentences. He ignored Gen’s confusion and approached the Nemophila flower pots, saying:

“First, we have to determine the dominant and recessive traits of the target species—Nemophila gives the sky-blue color and petal pattern, while Asiatic Dayflower contributes to the stem and leaf structure. We have to extract pollen from both plants, male and female, all combinations. This will be a reciprocal crossing test to ensure optimal inheritance of the Blue Moon-Weed’s target phenotype. We can cross male Nemophila Menziesii and female Asiatic Dayflower to pursue the blue color, petal pattern, and sturdy stem structure. But science is all about trial and error, so we have to try the reverse too. This is because the cytoplasmic plastids from female Nemophila might hold pigment codes—ah! I guess you don’t get it. Well, the point is if we try multiple combinations in this experiment, it’s 10 billion % better than just trying one or two.”

When Senkuu finished his lecture, he turned to Gen, who was standing behind him. His mouth was half open and his eyes spinning, head surely dizzy because his staff was no longer enough to hold him upright, now leaning on the garden fence, looking as if he was about to faint.

“Kukuku... adorable.”

Senkuu couldn’t help but laugh. “Well. To put it simply. What we need are lots of both kinds of flowers to crossbreed in this experiment.”

He walked toward his fiancé and gave his shoulder a light pat. “So stop lazing around and help me carry the remaining nine pairs of flower pots.”

“N-nine?” Gen asked nervously.

Senkuu grinned, “For now, we’ll test with ten pairs of plants. Tomorrow, we’ll increase it to twenty, and add ten more each day.”

Hearing that, the beautiful elf’s face turned pale as a sheet of white paper. Horror was clearly written on his face, as if the half-elf had just been confronted by a demon from hell. Senkuu committed that expression to his identic memory before leaving the garden for the spot where the flower pots were.

Several moments passed and Gen hadn’t followed him at all. Senkuu rolled his eyes. He wasn’t mad—knowing how spoiled his elf fiancé was—who practically never lifted heavy things anyway, so this was already within his prediction. So when Gen didn’t help him carry the flower pots, Senkuu didn’t make a fuss. After all, he still had his gorilla bodyguard and lab assistant Chrome to help with the heavy lifting.

When Senkuu returned to the garden with Kohaku and Chrome, he found Gen casually sitting on a garden bench, his Aetherite-adorned staff resting on his lap. He looked like he was enjoying his time off from work like a lazy cat sunbathing under the sun.

“I said ‘help us carry these flower pots’, and you, who were the most excited to see the crown of this long-extinct flower, are just lounging around.” Senkuu quipped with a mocking tone, though not an ounce of hatred.

“Damn you, Gen! You should’ve told me you were planning this crazy science project!” Chrome exclaimed, as giddy as always when he got to work on a science project.

The elf’s bowed head suddenly looked up at his voice. The elf’s face winced in embarrassment while his long, adorable ears twitched cutely. As always, the light-hearted, guiltless grin adorned his fiancé’s face. Only when they faced each other did Gen finally speak.

“Ahahaha. Orry-Say.” Gen scratched his head sheepishly, “Besides, Chrome-chan, I thought you were busy with the village celebration and your other science projects, right? I didn’t think you had time for yet another one.”

Naive and innocent Chrome nearly ruined the surprise. It took Senkuu and Kohaku elbowing the young vampire in the ribs to stop him from accidentally revealing their secret.

“More importantly, why didn’t you come help?” Senkuu huffed in frustration, trying to change the subject.  “We already agreed to ‘give birth’ to this extinct blue flower baby together.”

“A baby?!” Kohaku, who arrived later, shouted. “What do you mean? Gen, are you pregnant?!”

Gen facepalmed and gave Senkuu a deadpan look.
“No. This is about a science project, recreating an extinct flower.”

Kohaku looked a bit disappointed about something, before reverting to her usual confident and blunt self. “Oh. So that’s why you need all these blue flowers?”

“Yes.” Senkuu affirmed. “And it would’ve been easier to carry them if one of us had helped.”

Gen seemed a bit annoyed from being constantly blamed—not that Senkuu was actually blaming him, he just wanted to tease and mess with the half-elf a little. The elf said casually, “It’s not that I didn’t want to help. It’s just... I know a way that’s 10 billion % more efficient to make this experiment go smoother.”

“Hah?” Senkuu, the genius who created synthetic blood for vampires at the age of 10—still very young—was offended. “What do you mean, little elf?”

Gen, his fiancé, that sly mentalist, the sorcerer who walked the line between black and white, smirked in that annoyingly smug way. His mischievous eyes gleamed with a sense of absolute victory in a competition that never even existed.
And it made Senkuu... a little irritated. Or rather—challenged.

“Oh, my dearest genius fiancé,” Gen smiled. “What I meant was that.”

As he spoke, his finger pointed toward the field of Nemophila Menziesii and Asiatic Dayflower flowers that filled the entire garden behind him. That vast garden was blanketed with blue flowers, as if the blue sky had fallen to the earth right under the elf’s feet.
And Senkuu wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before.

“Where did you...”

“Ahem.” Gen cleared his throat, pointing to his long ears—the trademark of elves—stopping Senkuu’s question.

Chrome beside him clenched his right hand into a fist and slapped it into his left palm,
“Oh, right. Gen is an elf who can use flower magic spells.”

Kohaku dropped the flower pot she’d been carrying and whistled,
“Woho, looks like our genius is a little dumb.”

Senkuu couldn’t clearly hear what that gorilla said because at that moment he was too busy pinching a certain elf’s soft and squishy cheeks as a release for the irritation creeping up on him.

“You damn little elf!”

“Ungh—it’s not my fault Senkuu-chan’s so dumb—unghghg”

Senkuu kept pinching the elf’s cheeks with his thumb and forefinger,

“Oh, these elf cheeks are pretty squishy.”

“Kinda adorable.”

Somehow, his irritation slightly faded.

.

.

“Senkuu.”

A soft voice faintly brushed his ears, fading away the sweet memory recordings of Gen from a few days ago until they disappeared entirely from his mind. Like magic. Like the thin mist of morning. Unfortunately, it was not the kind of voice he longed for. Yet, Senkuu still looked up from the notebook he had been staring at. Standing above him, the healthy Miko—who used to be so frail she couldn’t even stand in the cold outdoor air.

“Ruri?” Senkuu looked back at his notebook, filled with the results of the blue baby flower experiments he and Gen had been doing over the past few days.

The Miko sat beside him, with two bowls of warm fish soup, the specialty of Ishigami Village, and dry bread. One for Senkuu, one for herself. Several minutes passed. Neither of them said a word.

“I’m glad the celebration went smoothly. Everyone was smiling and crying in joy.” The Miko broke the silence with her heart-soothing voice.

But Senkuu’s heart remained restless. Even though that restlessness was not reflected at all in his expression. Ruri was right—both the celebration and the firework experiment trials went smoothly. Seamlessly, without obstacles. He should have felt calm and relieved—and maybe proud—but all those emotions were gone. So he simply hummed, “Ah.”

“I wish Gen-san were here.”

Senkuu’s ears twitched at the mention of the half-elf’s name. But he stayed focused on his notebook, lightly brushing the crumpled paper, hoping his tangled heart would slightly loosen.

“By the way, I wonder why Gen-san didn’t come?”

Senkuu blinked, “That damn elf said ‘not interested in kiddie science project’ and preferred lazing around in his warm room.”

Ruri didn’t immediately respond. When Senkuu glanced at her, he was faced with a gentle expression full of sympathy, as if she understood the unspoken wound.

“Almost the same expression as Byakuya earlier,”

“Even so, I wish Gen-san could have seen this beautiful view.”

Senkuu scoffed harshly before grumbling, “For what? So that damn elf can mock this experiment as a ‘kiddie science project?”

Ruri laughed softly, “Even though Gen-san said that, I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way. During our discussions over the past days, more than once Gen-san got distracted out of curiosity about your science project.”

Senkuu reflected, but didn’t respond. That’s because he saw the Miko’s recently healed body trembling from the cold night wind that blew between them. The Miko’s hands rubbed her chest and hugged herself. The Solruby gemstone pendant adorning her neck glowed with a golden-orange light.

“I thought that gemstone healed you?” Instead of replying to her earlier statement, Senkuu asked.

Ruri, who seemed to have regained her body’s warmth, replied, “Yes. Gen-san taught me the spell to activate this gem. It only took a few days until I became skilled at using it. Thanks to this, I no longer feel pain or aches whenever the cold air or storms hit.”

“Is that so,” Senkuu muttered, “You’re pretty close with that elf, huh. You even defend him.”

“Well, we spent quite a lot of time together. He truly played a big role in healing my body.”

Senkuu felt a bitter taste choking the root of his tongue.

 “Besides that,” the Miko continued again, in a very soft tone, “I don’t think Gen-san is at fault. So, maybe... you could talk to him again. Ask for the truth, maybe.”

Senkuu furrowed his brows, puzzled. He looked at the Miko beside him, the girl’s eyes softened, her gaze distant as if she had contemplated something deeply. Silence. Senkuu was now becoming familiar with this silence. “While we were together, I kept thinking about him. When everyone started laughing, Gen-san smiled. When everyone was sad, Gen-san fell silent. He’s like a mirror that reflects us.” When the Miko said that, her expression was—somehow... very sorrowful.

“I feel like I really understand Gen-san. As if we’re on different fates but on the same line.”

What did she mean by that? Clearly, the two were very different. Senkuu couldn’t find any similarity between his fiancé and the Miko. Unless they were talking about both of them sharing the same captivating beauty.

Senkuu was still trapped in his own puzzle when Ruri stood up, whispering her sorrow to the night wind. Her voice was so faint, that if it weren’t for the absence of noise, Senkuu wasn’t sure he would’ve heard what the Miko said.

“Senkuu... people who smile too often... are usually hiding tears that never had the chance to fall.”

“Huh?”

Senkuu looked up at the Miko who had already walked far away from him. Leaving behind a riddle wrapped in a thousand languages that couldn’t possibly be measured with numbers. Tonight, Senkuu felt like he had missed a clue. A clue equal to the most important variable in the progress of his experiment. As if if Senkuu missed this one thing, he would experience a temporal deviation spanning a millennium—a thousand-year regression in a single leap through time.

As if Senkuu would regret everything in his eternal life.

Damn it, he was a scientist, not a poet. .

­­­­

Chapter Text

The day after the celebration, Senkuu returned to working on his other science project. Or more precisely, his and his fiancé’s project of “reviving the long-extinct blue baby flower.” Not that Senkuu continued the project because he wanted to take on a more difficult challenge to earn his fiancé’s recognition. Senkuu didn’t care at all whether he received recognition from that fiancé or not. Senkuu lived solely for the pursuit of knowledge. That was all.

So, with a few crushed seashells he usually used to fertilize plants, Senkuu stepped into the garden. He wasn’t surprised—or maybe just a little?—when he saw the presence of the elf in his garden. The elf stood among the spread of blue flowers, standing out in his pink robe and scarf wrapped around his neck.

Senkuu furrowed his brows at his fiancé’s change in outfit. Previously, the elf always wore his signature Victorian-gothic style that emphasized the wyvern aura in his genetics. Now, that fiancé looked like he was wearing a softer, gentler fashion, almost like the clothing Ruri wore every day as a Miko.

“Honestly, does hanging around a Miko purify my fiancé of his sins?!”

“And damn it! He’s so, so adorable! Damn cute elf!!”

He was too focused on the presence of the pink flower—ahem—he meant his fiancé, in the middle of the blue flower field, that he didn’t realize they were only one foot apart. It was only when the elf looked up that Senkuu noticed how close they were.

“I didn’t expect the honorable elf to be interested in kiddie science projects like this one of Senkuu’s.” Senkuu said sarcastically.

Gen, who was a true devil, grinned without guilt, “Well. It’s not my fault I wasn’t interested because that firework project was a ‘kiddie science project’ that even children could do.”

Senkuu clicked his tongue, “So, what’s the difference with this ‘flower planting’ science project? Isn’t this also something ‘children’ can do? Doesn’t the honorable elf feel insulted having to get dirty with soil just to plant wildflowers?”

Gen smirked cunningly. As if defeat didn’t exist in the elf’s silver-tongued dictionary. “Oh my, my... Who knows, Senkuu-chan. Either way, I can’t call this science project a kiddie science project. On the contrary, I think this is a very mature one.”

“Kukuku... and what’s the reason for that, oh honorable elf?” Senkuu mocked. He scratched his ear with his pinky finger, looking down at the elf still crouched in the flower bushes.

If Gen was uncomfortable under Senkuu’s gaze, his expression didn’t show it. This damn elf was always good at changing his face as easily as swapping masks. Instead, the elf stood up and stood beside him, close enough that Senkuu could hear his breath.

“Because...” his voice as soft as birdsong.

“We’re going to ‘give birth’ to a b-a-b-y.”

In an instant, Senkuu felt like it wasn’t his pinky finger poking his ear, but a sharp arrow disrupting the contents of his brain. Senkuu knew what his fiancé meant was the “Blue Moon-Weed” flower and not... something else. Of course. But his genius brain couldn’t stop the ridiculous images that suddenly flashed through his mind—images he had never even thought about before.

“You damn mentalist!” Senkuu cursed.

Gen giggled as if satisfied for successfully teasing the genius scientist. Clearly enjoying himself.

Senkuu, on the other hand, was truly annoyed and chose to focus all the neurons that made up his brain on thinking about something else instead of the “inappropriate” images that had just flashed across his mind.

Yes. Science project! First and foremost!

Senkuu started by crossbreeding the two flowers that served as their samples. Thanks to his fiancé, because of that elf, Senkuu didn’t need to bother searching for and lifting pot after pot of different flowers for their experiments.

Speaking of his fiancé, Gen was still the same as in previous days. He helped with the experiment, fetched whatever Senkuu asked for even before the scientist could say it—almost as if they shared telepathy—asked about everything yet still didn’t understand what Senkuu said, complained a little, acted a little lazy. Completely unaffected by the “little fight” they had the previous night.

As if Gen was a cat that had just destroyed the Lego tower Senkuu had spent a year building, then spilled coffee all over the blueprint and research paper that was already at its deadline, only to put on a cute face, lick its paw, and swish its tail. Then finally sit in its master’s lap with a spoiled “meow,” which turned out to be because the cat was hungry.

“Really just like a cat.”

“Damn it!”

“Huh?” Gen turned his head,  

“Senkuu-chan, why did you suddenly curse?”

Senkuu ignored him.

“Nothing.”

But he still answered his fiancé. Senkuu fully focused his soul and body on the science project before his eyes rather than paying attention to his fiancé in his unbearably cute pink outfit.

.

.

“By the way, the day after tomorrow you’ll be going home, right?” Senkuu washed his dirty hands. They had just crossbred 20 more pairs of flowers for the continuation of their experiment.

“Hm. That’s right. Are you going to miss me, Senkuu-chan?” Gen sat on a garden bench, offering a handkerchief to him.

Senkuu rolled his eyes, “Don’t get your hopes up, damn Mentalist.”

He took the empty spot beside his fiancé, resting his head back as he enjoyed the scent of wisteria flowers shading them from above.

“Both above and below, everything is pink and fragrant.”

“So, when is your next visit?”

He heard Gen hum beside him, “Maybe next spring.”

“That’s quite a while.”

“Isn’t it always like that?” Gen began teasing, “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t miss me?”

Senkuu grinned, chuckling slyly, “Stop being sweet, Mentalist. I know you’re planning something for your next visit here just from your sly smile.”

“Uel-cray! Senkuu-chan just stripped away my Mentalist title.” His fiancé clutched his right chest as if Senkuu had wounded his heart—truly a drama queen.

Senkuu scratched his ear indifferently, “It’d be better if I knew whatever crazy plan you’re cooking up. Before you show up and suddenly destroy my house. Or my lab, in this case.”

Gen shrugged, then grinned wickedly with a meaningful glint in his eyes,
“Yeah. Yeah. As always, the genius Senkuu-chan can already guess that my plan will involve a ‘project’ in the lab. Can you figure it out?”

“No need for riddles. It’s something related to the book you borrowed and studied from Ruri, right?”

“Ping-poing! 10 billion points for Senkuu-chan.” Gen cheered, flowers fluttering toward Senkuu, complete with glowing pollen from who-knows-where.

Senkuu brushed away the flowers tangled in his hair, “Is that really a real thing? Flying magic.”

“It exists.” The Mentalist’s answer was so calm, deep as if it came from the ocean floor.

“Too bad, Mentalist, I thought it was just a myth. At least not anymore if we’re talking about around one millennium ago, when the demon races still lived and floated in the sky like fruit flies.”

Gen laughed. “And unfortunately, I have a different opinion. I can feel it at the tips of my hair every time the wind blows.”

“That’s not flying magic, that’s elf flu, you idiot.” Senkuu scoffed, rolling his eyes as he witnessed the usual over-the-top theatrics of the drama queen.

“Don’t be stupid. It’s the gravity under our feet that keeps us from floating like ants in a shaken bottle. After almost one millennium, I’m not sure there’s any race left that can truly fly.”

Gen snapped his fingers dramatically, “You’re forgetting the wyvern race? Some of us still have wings.”

“But they still don’t fly,” Senkuu retorted, “You all just glide from high places. That’s not magic, that’s passive aerodynamics.”

After rambling, Senkuu suddenly realized one thing he’d been trying to ignore. His fiancé, despite descending from a wyvern bloodline that could be considered “pure” even with his mixed heritage, didn’t have the distinctive wings on his back.

“Where are the wings? Why are there only horns?”

His thoughts were cut off when Gen tilted his head toward him, that white mane swaying in the air, “Well then. What do you think about the elves?”

Senkuu blinked, one conclusion forming clearly in his mind,
“Right. Maybe because Stanley’s elf genetics are stronger than Xeno’s wyvern genes. Which makes the offspring’s appearance become something like the creature in front of me. A beautiful angel with the horns of a cunning devil. Maybe this will be useful for the Blue Baby Flower project.”

It took a full minute for Senkuu to finish that conclusion. Then he returned to the present and answered, “To be honest, I don’t really understand how elf magic works. Other races use magic through incantations and arrays, and some kind of wand? But elves...”

As if giving a demonstration, Gen snapped his fingers. Flowers appeared in his palm and floated in the air, “It’s indeed harder to understand elf magic than the kind used by other races. If they need to chant long spells, complex arrays, and wands as extensions of their magic—”

Gen changed the types of flowers floating midair easily, without any object or tool he previously mentioned, “Rather than using magic and treating it as a ‘tool,’ we elves tend to merge with magic and become ‘friends’ with it. That’s why, in the past until now, elves could ‘float’ freely in the air. But all of that was thanks to the wind spirits. And none of those elves could control their ‘flying’ at will.”

“I’ve also read that the elf body is different from other races. There’s no rejection or negative reaction to types of magic and mana in elf bodies. At most, there’s only compatibility or incompatibility, or they’re either very good or very bad at using it. On the other hand, among other races, there are always some people who experience magic or mana rejection either right after they use it or several years later.”

“Who knows whether the elves were born for magic, or magic was created for the elves?” Gen smiled, “All I know is that ‘flying magic’ is something truly extraordinary.”

Senkuu stared at his fiancé, trying to map every expression that formed on his face, “You sound too sure. Like you’ve experienced it yourself.”

For a moment, a strange flicker appeared in those bluish-gray eyes. But it disappeared as quickly as the fizz of carbonated water.

“Just say I’m crazy, Senkuu-chan.” Then came that familiar sly grin of a half-wyvern, “You know, scientist-chan, a book I borrowed from the Miko who guards the 100 Sacred Tales, tells of the great creature called the Griffin...”

Senkuu scoffed, half-mocking as he spoke in a cynical tone, “A mighty creature, half lion and half eagle, said to be blessed by the Wind God so that this beast possesses the strength of a lion and the wingspan of an eagle. Every flap splits the clouds and summons storms. Bla-bla-bla—”

Gen looked at him with a judgmental expression, “Ishigami Senkuu-chan, I know you're always logical. But at least show some respect for the Sacred Scripture your entire family believes in.”

Senkuu sneered, “What kind of legendary creature? That flying lion can be found in the eastern part of this region, in the Galeveil Forest. They always migrate from west to east to mate and breed. Anyway, that story was made to keep kids from wandering too far into that area. It’s only a few miles from here.”

“Wow. You say inappropriate things so easily. If Father Xeno were here, he’d definitely slap you.” Gen looked down on him. Half disgusted, half impressed.
“Forget it. So, does my foolish elf also believe that a pair of Griffin feathers can make someone fly freely in the sky, just like you believe flying magic exists?”

“Yes.”

Senkuu widened his eyes in shock, “You’re serious, Mentalist?!”

“10 billion % serious,” Gen replied confidently.

“Other races need tools as extensions of their mana and magic, while elves truly merge with mana and magic, so they don’t need any of that. But that doesn’t mean elves can’t use arrays or magical instruments. They’re just too used to their own comfort.”

Senkuu cut in, “Too comfortable in their laziness is more like it, just like someone else I know.”

Senkuu winced in pain when Gen kicked his leg. The elf pouted adorably while his cute long ears drooped downward.

“Damn adorable elf!”

Gen huffed, “What I mean is, if someone can overcome the complexity of spell incantations, arrays, and magical wands or whatever—combining them into one object like a magic broom or a magic cloak, something that can properly control the wind. Then...”

“Then flying magic, which normally requires complicated chants and wind spirit control, could be realized easily with just one object.” Senkuu concluded.

This hypothesis was fascinating. Truly. Maybe even a breakthrough in scientific advancement. But.... “But that’s still impossible. If you think it’s easy to make a magic broom or cloak that can fly people around, then why haven’t we found one?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe they tried and failed. Maybe their methods and steps were wrong.” Gen shrugged.

Senkuu teased, “And what makes you think our hypothesis will succeed?”

Gen grinned back slyly, “Why do you think, Senkuu-chan? Is it because they weren’t a half-elf and half-wyvern who deeply understands both magic and passive aerodynamics?”

His tone hung playfully as Gen pulled out a book filled with bookmarks made from dried flowers and handwritten notes. “Or maybe they only focused on the spell and never considered precious materials to form their magical tool. Like a few feathers from a flying creature that can cross from the western edge to the eastern tip in one night.”

A bright light burst in the mind of the genius Senkuu. So bright it made him laugh maniacally.

“Griffin wings have incredible durability in wind pressure! And of course, that includes their feathers!”

“So what you mean is, if we use a few Griffin feathers and find the right combination of mana usage and magical incantation, this 10 billion % fascinating object will be born?” Senkuu grinned until his fangs gleamed like silver blades.

“Who knows. Both science and magic are all about trial and error,” his fiancé grinned like a demon.

“You’re really insane, Mentalist.”

“Told you so. Are you interested, scientist-chan?”

“Kukuku... is that even a question? This is 10 billion % too tempting.”

.
.
The copper-colored twilight sky began to fade as two silhouettes walked slowly along the stone path. The wind blew, brushing against the blue flowers that stretched along the roadside as if they were dancing to the melody hummed by the elf beside him. The baby blue flowers enjoyed his voice. So did the vampire, Ishigami Senkuu. He didn’t want to rush back to his noble’s mansion. So this precious time could last a little longer.
Until a tiny riddle—or more precisely, Ruri’s words from last night—came back to haunt him. Senkuu was a scientist who gathered data from observation and questions. Not just from baseless hunches or speculation.

So he asked.

“Oi, Mentalist.”

“Hmm...”

The elf hummed sweetly amidst the melody.

“You seemed very persistent about this flying magic. Why?”

The melody was replaced by soft laughter just as lovely. That laughter was firm, as if it held conviction and determination in some struggle. And sorrow? Perhaps?

“What exactly is your pursuit, Gen?"

Gen shrugged casually, his feet tapping the patterned stones of the path lightly,

“A dream, maybe? Or a memory.”

After that, the gentle melody returned to fill the silence of their walk.

Although the tune was the same as before, instead of peace, Senkuu’s heart grew more restless. As if Gen’s answer carried thousands of meanings too deep to be understood from a single phrase.

Gen’s persistence did not come from curiosity to pursue more knowledge. It came from loss. A precious treasure Gen longed to regain.

Even if only once.

Even if only as a delusion or a fleeting illusion.

Ishigami Senkuu, just like the restlessness he felt the previous night, sensed that he was missing various things that set him back by a whole millennium.

“What is the Mentalist truly after...and why does it feel like I’am the one being left behind?”

­­­­

Chapter Text

“Senkuu, are you sure this crazy project will work?”

Senkuu heard the voice of his lab assistant, Chrome, as he dropped a pair of large pots containing an unbloomed Asiatic Dayflower and a wilting Baby Blue Eyes. The vampire merely glanced at him briefly before returning his gaze to the ancient scroll on the table.

“Who knows, science is trial and error. All we can do is follow the rules and pursue knowledge.”

Chrome placed a finger on his chin, staring at the green grass that had yet to bloom and the nearly wilted blue flower. “Even if you say so, we’ve barely been able to crossbreed them at all.”

“That’s because they bloom optimally in slightly different seasons.”

Senkuu scratched his ear with his pinky, still not taking his eyes off the scroll he was reading.

“Nemophila Menziesii prefers cooler temperatures, ideally around 15 degrees Celsius. If planted too early, the seeds won’t grow, but if too late, they’ll wither under summer’s heat. Truly spoiled babies—extremely sensitive to light and temperature.”

“While Commelina Communis absolutely hates the cold. They only grow optimally at temperatures around 20 degrees Celsius or above. This little rascal is strong, fast-growing, and slightly invasive.”

Chrome nodded in understanding, then wore a shocked expression and shouted in panic, “That’s crazy! Doesn’t that mean these two species have almost opposing life cycles?! How can we crossbreed them if they’re not even born in the same season?!”

“Shut up, idiot. What do you think this greenhouse is for?” Senkuu scratched his almost-deaf ear.

“We can engineer that kind of thing with science. We can give them the right fertilizer formulas, control the temperature, humidity, and lighting conditions in the greenhouse.”

Suika cheered happily, “Besides, Senkuu already tried crossbreeding some flower pairs when Gen was still here. Well, even though the results failed.”

“I already told you science is trial and error,” Senkuu chuckled.

“Still, I do regret that Gen isn’t here,” Kohaku crossed her arms, having just carried a dozen flower pots into the greenhouse.

“Yeah! If Gen were here, we could easily get unlimited samples of these two baby blue flower species. Because Gen can create them all!”

Hearing Suika’s words, Senkuu’s fingers twitched, and his vampire fangs felt cold like blades. As if ready to slice something and draw delicious blood. Ever since his fiancé left the Ishigami manor, he hadn’t been able to erase the stupid face of his beautiful elf fiancé from his mind.

As if his entire genius mind had been filled only with that elf.

Not to mention the fact that his teenage hormones were becoming increasingly uncontrollable, causing him more than once to think about tasting the sweet blood of that damn elf.

Senkuu clicked his tongue, grabbed a pouch of synthetic blood—his own history-defying research breakthrough—and drank it hungrily. Senkuu was truly grateful for having invented this spectacular discovery.

“Gen didn’t give birth to babies. He created a ‘field of baby blue flowers’. That’s all. Don’t get any weird ideas, Ishigami Senkuu!”

After calming his dirty mind, Senkuu opened his eyes again and focused on reading the next scroll. When he did, whether by fortune or misfortune, the second scroll he opened happened to be about ‘Anatomy and reproduction of heaven’s beloved beings: elves’. And Senkuu had to close it again to preserve  his image as a ‘pure scientist’.

“Why did you throw that scroll so suddenly, Senkuu? And what have you been reading this whole time?”

Senkuu, who had just flung the scroll away, turned and pushed Suika aside. “Nothing important.”

Beside him, Kohaku, the fighter vampire with eagle-sharp eyes, gave him a teasing grin that was annoying. Senkuu had to ignore it to save face.

“I was just reading about griffins.”

“Griffins? Does Senkuu have another science project involving those flying lions?” Suika asked.

Senkuu answered, “Yeah, something like that. Gen and I promised to research another science-magic project together. Something about magic and flying objects—or rather, I prefer to call it a flying machine.”

“Magic and flying machines?! That’s a CRAZY project!” Chrome shouted excitedly, “Senkuu! Let me join this project!”

“Yeah, yeah. Do whatever you like. The more manpower, the better.”

“But what about the baby blue flower project?”

“Don’t worry, Suika. We’re not abandoning it,” Senkuu chuckled. “On the contrary, we’ll work on both projects at the same time. Besides, the flying magic project—I prefer to call it a flying machine—won’t start until next year.”

“Could it be...”

“Yep. We’ll wait for that damn elf. After all, this crazy project was his idea.”

Kohaku leaned against the fence, “But your fiancé won’t be back until next spring.”

Senkuu smirked, opening the scroll on the table so everyone could see it. “And that’s the perfect time. We’ll go hunting for Griffin wing feathers. Get fired up, everyone!”

.

.

“Nice to see you again, Senkuu-chan. How have you been? You look taller, or is it just your hair?”

Gen’s last visit was in mid-spring last year. Senkuu had only not seen the half-elf for a few months, but it felt like they’d been apart for years. Honestly, there wasn’t much change in Gen’s appearance. His smile was still sly yet sweet. And his face was just as beautiful as he remembered—of course, since his fiancé had elven blood. His small horns hadn’t grown at all, hidden between long ears and his thick, silky mane. If anything, the only thing different was Gen’s slightly longer hair that now fell between his shoulders, covering his slender neck. A small change, but it truly stunned him.

“Do elf hair grow that fast?” Senkuu thought to himself, slightly impressed with the new look.

“Hair? Ah, yes. Well. Actually, I usually cut it every year, but this year I wanted something a little different.” Gen said while playing with a lock of bangs falling along the side of his face—still clinging to his usual style. That white strand was asymmetrically long, reaching down to his chest, unlike the rest of his dark hair.

“Does... this look weird?” His fiancé asked softly, a little uncertain, as if nervous. It was honestly surprising that such a sly wyvern could act nervous like this.

“Tch, hanging out with a shrine maiden really does purify his evil, huh.”

It took a full minute for Senkuu to realize that what he had thought was actually spoken out loud by his traitorous mouth. Now he was faced with his fiancé who was asking for an opinion on his new appearance with a nervous face.

“Well... it’s... honestly not bad. Really. In fact, I think it’s quite the opposite.” Senkuu cleared his throat before continuing nonchalantly, “But you might have trouble managing that mane once we start this journey. Ahem... you could ask Suika to help you tie it or something.”

He heard his fiancé chuckle softly, the staff he always carried tapping against the floor tiles, “Ah, Suika-chan. It’s been a while since I saw that girl, I kinda miss her.”

Senkuu scratched his ear with his pinky, turned around, and started walking toward the laboratory, knowing Gen would soon follow him. “That slime girl feels the same. About your magic, of course. Even after you broke her heart a year ago.”

The tapping of that staff echoed in the room, accompanying the light steps of the elf behind him. His shoulders rose slightly as he flicked his hand in the air, the sly smile of the half-wyvern replaced by a dramatically pained expression.

“Am I the villain here?” his fiancé whined melodrmatically.

Senkuu replied, “No. You’re just a nuisance.”

A choking sound came from his fiancé’s mouth as one hand clutched his chest where his heart lay. “So uel-cray!”

Cheap drama from the Drama Queen. Senkuu rolled his eyes in amusement. “Stop acting cute, Cinderella. You’re the only Mentalist who manipulates all of us.”

The chime of laughter echoed again, replacing the silence in his house over the past few days. Slowly, Senkuu began to get used to the presence of another voice—the laughter laced with layered meaning and the tap of a wooden staff with every step. The Mentalist, as usual, never stopped talking even when they reached the end of a story. Even when the topic dried up, he could easily jump from one thing to another, like now.

“By the way, I didn’t see Byakuya-chan. He’d usually greet me with a smile and warm food. Is he busy or something?” he asked.

“Byakuya went to attend a meeting with some families and nobles or something. I didn’t pay much attention when he said goodbye. That old man won’t be back for a few weeks.” Senkuu answered briefly.

“Don’t you think you’re being too cold to your own father, Senkuu-chan,” his fiancé mocked.

“Shut up, sly Wyvern,” Senkuu shot back with a sarcastic smile. “Aren’t your parents busy too? They didn’t even step inside the house before rushing off again. Well, at least they made sure their Precious Little Princess didn’t trip on the stairs.”

Senkuu didn’t mean anything bad; he just wanted to tease his spoiled fiancé who needed his warrior elf father’s help just to descend from the carriage and climb the ten steps to the front door. Besides, he hadn’t really minded it much lately. But who would’ve guessed Gen would unleash a single swing of his staff at his shin with that devilish grin.

“Hey!—” Senkuu shouted, the poor scientist collapsed to the floor.

“You trying to kill me?” Senkuu grumbled. His hand rubbed the sore shin while his red eyes glared at the staff that tripped him.

His fiancé sneered, “Oh my, looks like Senkuu-chan is the one who needs to be escorted like an old grandpa. He even tripped on a smooth floor.”

“Hey! Who’s the one walking with a staff?!”

His fiancé didn’t offer any rebuttal. He just stuck out his tongue before turning away to look for his beloved slime. Leaving Senkuu still sprawled on the floor.

“Tch, damn little elf.” Senkuu grumbled.

Statistically, the irritation caused by blunt trauma to the shin usually triggers a sympathetic reaction or an outburst of anger. However, being met with the sight of an elf sticking his tongue out like a mischievous kitten wasn’t that annoying after all. At the very least, his throbbing shin was worth the visual stimulus of his fiancé’s adorableness—enough to boost oxytocin production.

“Damn it....so cute”

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.

When Senkuu arrived at the laboratory, Gen was already there with his hair tied in a low bun, sitting with his back facing him. Suika sat beside him, her eyes focused on the long and slender fingers of the elf, gracefully performing a magic. The magic was simple—nothing more than a street trick that could easily be exposed. Just a play of a few flower petals that appeared and disappeared out of nowhere.

However, perhaps because of the sly yet sincere smile carved on the elf’s face, the joy of simple magic outweighed the thrill of discovering a breakthrough from an experiment. Evident in the awe reflected in the slime girl’s eyes, as if she truly enjoyed his magic.

“That’s just like it. Absolutely.”

Senkuu slid the door closed behind him, leaving a soft creak in the room. The next creak came from the chair he pulled gently so he could sit without having to fold his legs. His eyes flicked slightly toward his fiancé before grabbing the book lying on the table. Senkuu waited for Gen’s magic show to end before drawing his fiancé’s attention with the scroll in his hand.

“This.”

The elf’s brow rose in curiosity. “What is it? A book?”

“A few notes I wrote for our newest science-magic research.” He answered briefly.

The elf’s gaze fell onto the book he held, staring inquisitively before, with surprising euphoria, snatching the book from him. The elf’s eyes widened, following each word carefully as his smile widened further.

“Senkuu-chan, could this be...” Gen murmured with hopeful anticipation.

“Yup.” Senkuu confirmed, “I’ve already planned the jouney. We’ll begin departure tomorrow. So you’d better prepare if you want to come.”

“Of course I’m coming!” he snapped, “I’ve been waiting for this for so long! Of course I’m not going to miss this chance.”

Oh. Surprising to see the Mentalist could get this excited. Senkuu’s grin widened at his fiancé’s enthusiasm.

“Be ready, Mentalist. This is going to be irresistibly tempting.”

.
.

“Senkuu-chan!” Gen whined.

They were currently climbing the second hill of their journey. Kohaku, Chrome, Kaseki, and Suika were with them, carrying bags full of supplies and tools they might need. Galeveil Forest, where the Griffins lived and bred—though called a forest—was actually a mountainous region with thick mist and some large trees.

Perhaps due to the creatures’ genetics being a blend of eagle and lion, they tended to prefer high and open areas. Unlike the western region which was filled with rocky plains and steep cliffs, the eastern side was a bit greener, making the creatures prefer spending their mating season there.

Senkuu didn’t mind it at all, even if he had to climb several hills and trees just to pick a few of their feathers. After all, that’s how nature works. The only one complaining was an elf who kept whining and grumbling the whole way.

“Ishigami Senkuu-chan!” that whine turned into a strangled yell.

Senkuu stopped walking and turned around. The elf was far behind, his neatly tied hair now messy and loose. Sweat trickled down his forehead while his breath heaved—he looked absolutely exhausted and out of energy.

“What now, Princess Gen Snyder-Wingfield?” Senkuu teased.

Gen dropped the levitating bag he’d been holding with magic, his spell breaking as he threw a small pebble at him. “Are you mocking me?”

Senkuu pulled his vampire cloak to shield himself from the pebble. Though it wouldn’t be lethal, it would be painful enough to leave a bump on his head. “I’m not. I’m praising you.”

Gen collapsed onto the roots of a nearby tree, too worn out to argue with Senkuu. “Goodness. I knew this would be a long journey. But still, this is truly exhausting.”

Suika rolled up beside Gen, patting his shoulder gently. “Don’t worry, Gen. This is nothing. Senkuu once made us travel through a swamp just to find glowing frog eggs.”

Chrome chimed in, “Oh that was totally the  craziest exploration! We got lost in there for seven days. But it was worth it.”

The half-elf’s face was filled with horror, black lines shadowing his wide eyes. When they made eye contact, he was met with a gaze filled with both disgust and dread, distorted into one. On the other hand, the young vampire Chrome and the sweet slime girl Suika looked at him with innocent eyes.

“What?” they both asked.

Gen pulled Suika into a hug as if to shield the slime girl. “Exploration?! Are you kidding?! That was exploitation. Senkuu-chan, I think I’m starting to consider reporting you to the Child Protection Foundation.”

Senkuu walked toward his fiancé, scratching his ear to get rid of the dramatic screaming in his head. “Yeah, yeah. Do as you please.”

Senkuu stopped, leaving only one step of distance between them. “So, why did you stop? We’re only halfway to our destination.”

Instead of answering, his fiancé looked up at the sky hidden by the foliage. When Senkuu followed his gaze, his red eyes widened as he saw the sky changing color, a crimson hue slowly being swallowed by darkness.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, it’s already getting dark. How did I not notice?” Senkuu cursed his oversight inwardly.

“Papa once said that fogs in forests with certain Mana tend to have magic that distorts people’s perception of time. That’s why many people get lost when crossing areas with this kind of fog,” Gen explained as if reading Senkuu’s mind.

“Ohoho, so that’s why we got lost for seven days in the swamp,” Kaseki grumbled. “If only we had Gen back then.”

Sweat—not from fatigue—reappeared on his fiancé’s face, his lips trembling in fear. “Pardon me, Kaseki-chan, but I really wouldn’t go back there even if you paid me with Francoise Restaurant’s soft muffins.”

Speaking of food, their stomachs finally growled after a full day’s journey. A sign they needed to rest. At Gen’s suggestion and the sound of their rumbling bellies, Senkuu agreed to set up camp. They were lucky enough to find a safe cave and a clean stream nearby. Gen and Suika helped unpack supplies, Kohaku hunted for food, while Senkuu, Chrome, and Kaseki prepared sleeping bags and the campfire.

Not long after, Kohaku returned with two wild birds, already plucked and ready to cook. They enjoyed roasted meat, a dry bread and warm tea—somehow smuggled in by his fiancé in one of their bags. Truly a great drink for fatigue.

“Well, not as good as this,” Senkuu muttered as he pulled a blood pouch from his bag and shared it with the two other vampires.

Neither Senkuu nor Kohaku bothered opening the pouch with dining etiquette like Chrome. Instead, they sank their sharp fangs into the pouch and drank greedily. The sweet taste of fresh blood flooded his tongue, slid down his throat, and settled into his stomach with a refreshing sensation.

A bit of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, down his jawline and onto his chin. Senkuu used his thumb to wipe the blood and licked it, unwilling to waste such a precious food source. While vampires could eat normal food like other creatures, it was undeniable that biologically and instinctively, they preferred fresh blood over any substitute.

When Senkuu finished drinking the blood pouch and was about to toss it into the fire, his eyes unintentionally met Gen’s. His jaw dropped slightly but no words came out. His eyes were locked, as if the half-elf was bound to him. They were trapped in each other’s gaze, as if the gravity between them was pulling both ways.

In the end, Gen was the first to break eye contact. His shoulders jolted as if startled, and he turned to the side, clearly flustered. Those slender fingers played nervously with the long strands of his white hair, while his other hand absentmindedly fidgeted with his pendant. At quiet moments, Senkuu would catch Gen stealing shy glances at him—each one leaving a soft flush blooming on his cheeks.

“What is this Mentalist thinking,” he wondered.

“Whatever it is... he’s adorable!”

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Chapter Text

When Senkuu woke from his sleep, he was surprised to find that Gen was already awake and sitting at the edge of the cave. With slow movements, he folded his sleeping bag and approached his fiancé. The half-elf seemed completely unaware of his presence, eyes fixed on the stretch of forest veiled in thick fog.

“Gen,” he called.

Though it lasted only a second, Senkuu noticed the slight twitch in his shoulder before Gen turned to him with that familiar cheerful smile, “Yes, Senkuu-chan?”

Senkuu stretched his arms, easing the stiffness in his shoulders. “It’s rare to see you up so early. You’re not really a morning person, are you?”

Instead of answering, Gen let out a nervous chuckle, his hands folded in his lap, tightly clutching a small object he was clearly trying hard to hide. Not that Senkuu had any particular interest in other people’s secrets—he was cultured enough to respect privacy. So even though his heart was curious, Senkuu’s logic ignored—or at least tried to ignore—whatever it was that had just caught his eye.

“Was the sleeping bag too uncomfortable for the  My Princess?” he teased.

His fiancé laughed and threw a sarcastic remark back—just like always.

“Maybe it’s just one of his usual magic tricks.”

Still, even after they had resumed their journey and managed to climb the next hill, his heart remained uneasy and restless. Especially since the infamous “unlucky curse” that always clung to him—jokingly mocked by Gen and the others—no longer seemed to affect their journey, which only made things suspiciously smoother. His eyes narrowed, trying to understand something that continued to gnaw at his thoughts.

Just like in the past few days. Ishigami Senkuu felt he had missed something.

When Senkuu realized that the answer to all the unease in his heart was just one step away, it was already far too late. He was completely left behind. All that remained was a bitter feeling constricting the base of his throat.

Ishigami Senkuu stood helplessly as he watched his fiancé get hurled ten meters away by the storm.

“Why...?”

.
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“Whoa! This cliff is so high!!” Chrome shouted into the empty air, his head tilted back to take in the 80–100-meter cliff before them.

“The cliff’s surface is too slippery. Looks like only Kohaku-chan can climb it,” Gen observed, his hand brushing the rock only to find moss clinging to his fingertips.

“We’ll waste too much time if we try to find a detour,” Senkuu added. “We only have a few days left.”

“Why the rush? Don’t the Griffins stay in this forest throughout spring?” Kohaku asked. She had just climbed halfway up to survey the area and then landed back on the ground with a single leap.

Senkuu dropped his bag to the ground, rummaging through it for any tool that might help them cross the cliff. “In the early weeks of spring, Griffins are too aroused to fight. They’re more focused on mating and breeding than flying in the skies.”

“In other words, early spring is when Griffins are at their least aggressive, right?” Chrome added.

“Not only that,” Gen chimed in, “in this season, they tend to shed some of their wing feathers. If we’re lucky, we’ll only need to pick them up without having to fight those beasts.”

After a few minutes of searching, Senkuu finally found some rope and pulleys. “I can build a pulley lift to get us up. Unfortunately, the rope we brought is too weak.”

“Ha, that hemp rope is way too flimsy. We’ll be dead before we even meet a Griffin,” Kohaku declared.

In the middle of that hesitation, Gen’s firm and steady voice broke the silence. “Senkuu-chan, can you guarantee we’ll all make it up with the pulley?”

Still kneeling on the ground, Senkuu rested his hand on his knee. “Yes. If we have strong enough rope or vines.”

Hearing that confident answer, the half-elf’s ears wiggled up and down three times, causing Kohaku and Suika to gasp and watch with hopeful anticipation for it to twitch again. Upon reflection, it seemed only Senkuu truly noticed those little details, while others were more easily swayed by the half-elf’s sweet words.

His fiancé turned toward him, his Aetherite-adorned staff tapping against the cliff wall as if testing its hardness. “Floragraft can grow vines quickly. But even after reinforcing the stems’ structure, I can’t carry all our weight if the lift’s force relies solely on my magic.”

Senkuu grinned, strangely pleased for some reason. “Don’t worry about it. With pulleys, the weight being pulled is significantly reduced. We’ll use your vines as the rope, and Kohaku will handle the lift.”

Gen placed a finger on his chin, a doubtful expression crossing his face. “All of us? Seriously? We weigh almost 250 kg even with Suika in slime form.”

Senkuu understood the concern, but Kohaku—whose pride had been bruised—couldn’t resist the urge to pinch the elf’s ear in retaliation. Just as she was about to, Senkuu shot her a sharp glare, causing the warrior vampire to freeze, a chill running down her spine. In the end, Kohaku changed course and opted to pinch his cheek instead, while Gen closed his eyes without ever noticing a thing—remaining the only one unaware of the deadly vampire stare.

Gen shot Senkuu a puzzled look, but he quickly brushed it off.

“Alright, it’s settled. Mentalist, prepare your spell. Kohaku, you and Chrome will handle the pulley’s lift mechanism.”

Senkuu heard a small complaint from the young vampire behind him—Chromre— but he completely ignored it. Kohaku didn’t argue and obediently carried out her task. Gen gave him a more inquisitive look, but Senkuu deflected it by pushing the half-elf to begin casting. Eventually, the half-elf shrugged and tapped his Aetherite-embedded staff on the ground.

“Floragraft. Liantheria.”

Just like a year ago, the beauty of the wisteria flowers climbing up the cliff hadn’t faded one bit. On the contrary, thanks to the combination of the rapidly growing wisteria and the vine-like strength of the Liana stems, the plants this time looked much sturdier than regular wisteria, which could only dangle from other plants.

As planned, Kohaku managed the pulley system while the others ascended in pairs. Senkuu had initially proposed that they all go up in one go, but his fiancé insisted he wasn’t confident enough in the sturdiness of the vines. A fair reason—after all, if the entire group fell, it would be: Game Over.

Senkuu paired with Gen and Suika, who had turned into slime, while Chrome and Kaseki went up with their supply bags. As Kohaku began to pull, the wooden platform they sat on lifted into the air, breaking through the thin mist that was slowly fading under the sunlight. A gentle breeze swept over them, prompting Suika to wrap herself around Gen’s waist like a belt. Gen chuckled at her antics, one hand holding his staff and petting the slime, the other gripping Senkuu’s arm tightly.

“Is my sweet Suika-chan afraid of heights?” the half-elf grinned teasingly.

The slime didn’t reply, but her trembling body gave her away. It was funny how the half-elf teased others while clinging to Senkuu like an anchor himself. Senkuu couldn’t help but get caught in the moment. “Kukuku… what about you, my cunning little wyvern, are you afraid of heights?”

Instead of his usual sarcasm or playful wit, his fiancé looked far into the unseen edge of the sky. His eyes radiated calm and surrender, a deep longing, and a faint trace of silent hope. His sweet lips curved upward, but the smile never reached those dulled eyes.

“No…” he whispered softly, “I miss it.”

Senkuu blinked several times, unable to contain the confusion and unease bubbling up in his chest. It lodged in his throat, choking him. Just as he was about to ask for clarification, they reached the top of the cliff, and whatever had just been said was left behind.

And once again... Ishigami Senkuu felt like he had missed something important. What was worse… he was starting to get used to it—like tossing problems out the window. Especially when they were truly blessed by Lady Luck in such rare moments.

As Gen had said, during the mating season, Griffins tended to shed their feathers through molting. They didn’t need to face the fierce beasts at all, since their feathers were scattered across the grass and bushes.

“Good thing we have Kohaku-chan with her eagle-sharp vision,” Gen teased.

“Hah, with this many feathers around, we don’t need my vision to find them,” Kohaku dismissed the tease with ease.

“Ohoho… and not only are there lots, but the feathers are also huge. Look, I found one as long as my body,” Kaseki cried joyfully. It was almost comical seeing the dwarf buried among the feathers.

“But why are Griffin feathers this big? And shiny, too,” asked Suika, hopping around with a Griffin feather stuck on her head.

“Because Griffins are huge. Being hybrids of lions and eagles, they stand nearly five meters tall. The males undergo a Ritual Molt, shedding their strongest and most lustrous outer wing feathers as a sign of maturity and readiness to partake in copulation.”

“As expected from the Little Princess of Priest Xeno, her vocabulary is very polite. Not like a certain scientist,” Kohaku muttered with sarcastic venom.

Senkuu, unfazed, shot back, “Who cares about phrasing. Whether it’s mating, sex, or copulation, they all reproduce. They insert their male reproductive organ or penis—”

Senkuu never got to finish his scientific lecture because a half-elf’s hand clamped over his mouth. Senkuu glared at his fiancé, who simply smiled cheerfully and distracted Suika with floating feathers, while the dwarf and other vampire stared at him with judging eyes.

“At the very least, please mind your phrasing, Senkuu-chan,” his fiancé scolded.

Senkuu rolled his eyes and retorted, “I was just giving her scientific knowledge.”

“Try considering their mental age, at the very least,” Gen pressed.

Senkuu was about to argue again when he suddenly felt a pinch at the bridge of his nose. “And for this one, I’m not accepting any rebuttals.”

Senkuu rubbed his sore nose and clicked his tongue, “Tch, whatever. My cunning little elf.”

Apparently satisfied with the answer, Gen went to join Suika, sorting through the damaged and intact Griffin feathers. The feathers were gathered into bundles and sealed with a spell to prevent damage and make them easier to carry. At the very least, his elf had practical magic.

As the sun dipped westward, light began to dim, replaced by the creeping dark. They had gathered enough Griffin feathers for their new research project. Senkuu called a halt and led the group downhill to find a safe cave—until the corner of his eye caught a flash of white and golden-brown gleaming in the darkness.

Though his instinct screamed warnings, his pursuit of knowledge pushed him onward. So, taking Gen and the others, he headed toward the mysterious figure. To his surprise, down the slope where they crouched in hiding, was a group of Griffins locked in battle. Their feathers were different—one group bore the familiar golden-brown hues they’d been collecting. The other group’s feathers were a gradient of white to ash-grey.

“They’re different types,” he thought. “And it looks like the white Griffins are stronger, since they’ve barely shed any feathers.”

“What are the Griffins doing? Are they partaking in copulation?” Suika asked.

Senkuu waited for his fiancé to answer their adopted daughter—Suika—but when he didn’t, He spoke up instead. “They’re not mating— ahem, I mean enganging in copulation. No, it seems  they’re fighting over territory.”

“Hah, no wonder we found so many feathers scattered everywhere. They were in a turf war.”

Senkuu continued, “I did consider the possibility of something like this, but who would’ve thought we’d be lucky enough to find two kinds of birds. Of course, a true scientist wouldn’t miss this opportunity.”

“Are we going in head-on?” Kohaku asked.

“What? So eager to meet your mate, Lioness?” Senkuu mocked. “We’d be shredded in an instant by their claws.”

“I’m not a Lioness! Ugh, whatever.” Kohaku resigned herself to ignoring the insult. “Senkuu, what’s the plan?”

Senkuu gauged the distance between their hiding spot and the battling Griffins below. After a rough estimate, he spoke, “I think we can send in our bats to collect some of the feathers. We don’t need too many, just one or two pairs for now.”

“Good idea. Our bats are small enough not to get noticed by the Griffins,” Chrome added.

Thus, Senkuu, Chrome, and Kohaku rigged up small bats hanging from their cloaks to act as couriers. At times like these, his annoying bats finally proved useful. Just as they managed to retrieve three pairs of white-grey feathers, someone’s scream rang out as a warning.

“Good grief! I looked away for just a few minutes, and you guys already stirred up trouble!” Gen shrieked. His eyes were wide in horror, cold sweat dripping down his pale face.

“What do you mean by ‘stirred up trouble,’ my dearest fiancé? We’ve secured an experimental sample that’s 10 billion percent irresistible,” he said—half mockery, half tease.

However, instead of a witty sarcastic remark or a faint blush on reddening cheeks, Senkuu found his fiancé’s face struck with sheer panic, flushed with adrenaline and fear. As if he were staring at the Demon King rising from the grave right in front of him.

And that instantly triggered the alarm bells in Senkuu’s head that he had been ignoring all this time.

“Fuck me! Throw it away!” Gen cursed.

For the first time.

Leaving everyone present stunned, jaws hanging.

“That’s a Caelogriff feather,” he continued in panic. “They mark their feathers with Mana to lure prey and trap enemies. We have to—”

Gen never got to finish his sentence, as a Griffin’s screech tore through the sky. The frequency was unbearable—humans would grow nauseous or have their eardrums ruptured, while vampires, whose hearing was as sensitive as bats, would be left paralyzed as if struck by lightning. If not for Gen’s protective spell, Senkuu was certain Kohaku and Suika would’ve already collapsed unconscious.

Not that they weren’t kneeling on the ground as it was. They were. With blood dripping from their ears and noses.

“Fuck Griffins!” Senkuu cursed.

“Speak for yourself, Senkuu-chan. I’m not that desperate,” his fiancé quipped. Though he returned to his usual wit, the gasping breaths made him look like a helpless elf.

Senkuu looked up at the dark sky where a white shadow soared high above. Only one. Whether Lady Fortuna still smiled upon him, or whether misfortune was beginning to curse him again, they now had to face a damn Griffin that happened to be the largest of the bunch.

“At least the rest of the pack isn’t following,” Senkuu muttered.

Gen, still gripping his Aetherite-embedded staff, responded, “That’s because Caelogriffs are half-blind. They don’t see prey with their eyes, but rather by detecting the mana embedded in their feathers.”

“That’s even possible? Isn’t that a little unfair?” Senkuu protested.

“That’s just how nature works, my dear Senku-chaan,” his fiancé chimed.

He continued, “Listen. You may not like it, but we have to throw away those white feathers if we want to live. Once the Caelogriff’s screech ends, toss them as far as possible and we run the opposite direction.”

Kohaku rose from the ground, blood dripping from her ears, her eyes narrowing with alertness as she wiped the blood on her neck with rough fingers. “I’ll throw them.”

“So baaad! Will that really distract the Griffin away from us?” Chrome asked nervously. Even so, he began tying the feathers to a stone so the added weight would send the bundle flying farther.

“I don’t know,” Gen admitted. “That Mana has already attached itself to the three of you, so I’m not too confident.”

“Fifty-fifty chance,” Senkuu added, wiping the blood running from his ears and nose. The vibration from that damn sound had really wrecked their vampire senses.

“Wait, what about Gen? Can the body of a half-elf, half-wyvern withstand a frequency that high?”

Senkuu didn’t get to worry much longer, as the Caelogriff’s screech abruptly ended—signaling their only chance to flee. Kohaku volunteered to throw the feathers they had collected. Her incredible physical strength allowed her to hurl the bundle hundreds of meters away, despite the drag caused by the Griffin’s wing gusts.

When they saw the Caelogriff fly toward the discarded feathers, everyone sprinted in the opposite direction. Senkuu and Gen led at the front, while Kohaku and Kaseki, armed with flamethrowers, guarded the rear. Unfortunately, they had only descended the first hill and were nearly at the cliff where they had constructed the pulley lift when the Caelogriff caught up. The sheer force of its wingbeats tore down tree branches around them, turning what was once forest into a field of destruction.

“Damn, this blind eagle is fast!” Chrome cursed.

Though Kohaku had combat power equivalent to a thousand soldiers, it was useless if her opponent soared high in the sky. Their only weapon was the flamethrower held by Kaseki. It wasn’t enough to kill the beast, but perhaps enough to singe its feathers.

Or so they thought—until they witnessed the rapid regeneration of the lion-eagle hybrid monster.

“Hell no. Is it a monster?!” Senkuu spat.

“No. It’s just a giant flying cat,” Gen sneered.

Senkuu’s mind raced—behind them lay a steep cliff, and a fall would surely mean death. They were completely trapped. In desperation, his fiancé raised his Aetherite staff, aiming it at the Griffin while casting a spell.

“Floragraft. Thorned.”

The Liantheria vines that had once climbed the cliff now shot forward and entangled the Griffin, pulling it down as fresh thorns sprouted and pierced its flesh, staining its white feathers red. But that only enraged the beast, making it thrash more violently.

“Kohaku-chan! Kaseki-chan!” Gen shouted.

Without delay, Kohaku drew four long swords and slashed at the Griffin with wild precision, while Kaseki fired the flamethrower, hoping to char at least part of its wings.

Senkuu reached into his bag for a water-element magic stone and grabbed Suika’s hand. “Suika, can you enlarge yourself enough to act as our landing mattress?”

“Okie-dokie. Suika will help,” the slime replied, devouring the water-element stones in her blob form. Slowly but surely, her size increased. Once ready, Suika slid down along Gen’s enchanted vine roots, positioning herself as their soft landing.

Senkuu knelt at the edge of the cliff, watching Suika land smoothly below. It was amusing that the slime who had been terrified of heights was now enjoying a freefall on the same cliff.

“Some creatures really do have odd perceptions,” he thought.

A crashing sound pulled his attention away from Suika, followed by his own voice screaming his fiancé’s name. Not far ahead, Gen had collapsed to the ground, exhausted, his weakening spell losing grip on the Griffin. With no longer anything binding it, the beast grew more feral.

“Damn it. At least the escape route’s ready,” he muttered. “Chrome, you go first.”

Following orders, Chrome jumped down with all the supply bags into Suika’s enlarged slime form, now serving as their landing cushion. Senkuu rushed to Gen’s side and slung him over his shoulder.

“Kohaku, Kaseki, follow us!” he shouted. Without waiting for a reply, Senkuu started carrying his fiancé away—just in time, as the next screech echoed and a gust from the Griffin’s wings barreled toward them.

The sudden turbulence made Gen drop his Aetherite staff.

“Wait! Senkuu-chan—"

But Senkuu didn’t notice it—even if he had, they didn’t have time to turn back and retrieve it—and interrupted, “Don’t worry, Little Princess. Suika-sama is standing by as a landing pad. We can freefall without dying.”

“That’s not what I—” Gen tried to cut in, but then looked at him in shock. “Wait! What do you mean by freefall?!”

“I mean this!” Senkuu didn’t bother to explain. Instead, he demonstrated. It wasn’t as though they had time for a discussion anyway.

As they plummeted through the air, Senkuu’s vampire cloak billowed out, creating enough drag to slightly slow their fall. Meanwhile, Gen—his eyes torn away from his fallen Aetherite staff and the chaos behind—could only stare down at the hundred-meter cliff rushing up toward them.

“We’re falling!” he whispered in a trembling voice. If not for the blood clogging his sensitive ears, Senkuu might have mistaken the trembling not for fear and adrenaline, but for an old, lingering trauma.

“Relax. We’ve done this before and our bodies are still in one piece,” Senkuu tried to reassure him.

His fiancé didn’t respond. Instead, he tightened his grip on Senkuu’s shoulder, eyes tightly shut, face buried into the crook of Senkuu’s neck. The small horn poked into Senkuu’s throat and jaw, but he didn’t have time to care—not with just a second left before they hit Slime Suika.

There was no pain at all—this slime was an SSSS-class being: Super Slime Suika Sama, the ever-dependable one. They landed on Suika, bouncing slightly from the miscalculated trajectory, but Senkuu had enough time to maneuver so that he landed on his back, safely shielding Gen in his arms.

“Oi, Mentalist. You okay? We’ve reached.,” Senkuu called, giving his fiancé’s shoulder a light shake. One hand reached to gently pat his face, resisting the urge to pinch those furrowed brows.

Those closed eyes and the frightened expression were almost too adorable a temptation for a science-minded atheist like Senkuu. Soon enough, Gen’s trembling pupils opened, and Senkuu pulled him upright and embraced him, grounding him from the adrenaline still coursing through his body.

“Good, you’re awake. We need to keep moving—at least until we make it out of Galeveil Forest and find a nearby village with a protection array,” Senkuu said.

Gen placed one hand on Senkuu’s chest, leaning slightly against him, while his other hand clenched the Aetherite pendant at his neck. A faint violet light glowed from the gem, followed by two Solruby stones sewn into his shoes, hugging his feet. Senkuu didn’t fully understand magic spells, but he knew vaguely—it was a healing spell.

The moment passed quietly—until another screech echoed above, accompanied by Kaseki and Kohaku freefalling from the cliff’s edge.

Senkuu clicked his tongue in frustration. “Tch. Looks like they didn’t make it either. Let’s go!”

Gen, as if startled out of a trance, jolted and blurted in panic, “Wait! Senkuu-chan, my staff! Where—”

Senkuu cut him off. “It fell on top of the cliff. Forget that eccentric ornament and start running.”

“But without it, I can’t—”

“Don’t worry. You’re still just as pretty without any jewelry,” Senkuu interrupted again, now pulling his fiancé to his feet and dragging him into a run.

If his calculations were correct, they had just ten minutes before the Griffin recovered from Kohaku’s mad slashes and Kaseki’s flames. Ten minutes—he hoped—was enough time to reach a shelter like a Mana cave or even a shrine of the spirit gods.

“Kukuku… well, with my luck, I’m not so sure,” Senkuu mocked himself.

As if the universe heard him, the Griffin landed at the bottom of the cliff just meters behind them. Senkuu could see its wings still ablaze and not fully healed. Kohaku’s slashes had left deep marks, and Gen’s remaining magical vines wrapped around it again, holding it back temporarily.

“Well, even if it regenerates fast, at least that flying cat won’t be able to fly or level trees with its wings,” Senkuu muttered hopefully.

His hopes were granted. The Griffin only let out another screech, though this one wasn’t as bad as before—more annoying than painful. Senkuu began to think luck was on his side and felt a little more confident. He was about to crack a joke to ease the tension with Gen when he realized with horror that his hand was gripping empty air.

Senkuu halted and spun around in panic, eyes scanning for the missing half-elf.

“GEN! WHERE’S GEN?!” he shouted. Chaos had truly separated them.

Kohaku met his eyes with the same horrified look before she spun on her heels and darted between the trees—back toward the monster. Even without Kohaku’s sharp eyes, Senkuu could now see his fiancé’s figure slumped against a tree, both hands gripping the pendant at his chest like it was his only lifeline.

“GEN! GET AWAY FROM THERE!” Senkuu screamed at the top of his lungs, running full speed toward him. A wave of illogical panic surged through him, crushing his rational mind. How could it not? That Griffin was only twenty meters away—ready to devour him at any second.

The half-elf flinched, as if awakening from unconsciousness. When he realized the danger looming behind him, he tried to run. But after just two steps, he collapsed to the ground—unable to stand or even crawl no matter how hard he tried.

“GEN!” Senkuu yelled again.

“Damn it! What the hell are you doing, you stupid Mentalist?! This isn’t nap time! Or—is he injured?! Did the Griffin get his leg or something?! Why won’t he just get up and run?!”

Thousands of questions flooded his mind. But as the Griffin drew nearer, they vanished one by one. All that remained was the paralyzing fear of losing his fiancé.

And that fear became reality.

Everything slowed—as if the rotation of the universe itself had begun to crawl.

Kohaku arrived just in time, but because she was so close to Gen, she had no choice but to attack the Griffin again, hoping either Gen would get up and flee, or at least the beast would back off long enough for someone to carry him away.

But whether it was a miscalculation, a misstep, or just rotten luck—it all went wrong.

Maybe because the Griffin was blind.

Yes, it did redirect its attack from Gen to Kohaku.

But what no one expected was its lion-like tail whipping around and slamming into the helpless half-elf. Gen had managed to activate a shield spell, but it wasn’t enough—he was flung ten meters away before the barrier shattered under the pressure.

“GEN!”

The world went dark—not because of the overcast sky hiding the moonlight.

.

.

­­­­

Chapter Text

.

Senkuu stared at the tiles beneath his feet, wishing the earth would swallow him whole and drag him to hell to torture himself. His usually anti-gravity spiked hair now drooped, looking as limp as its owner. His palms were covered in marks from his own sharp nails. His jaw ached from being clenched for 1 hour, 20 minutes, and 45 seconds straight.

Only the creak of a door made him stop bowing his head and drowning in regret. Behind that wall was his fiancé Gen’s room—the one the half-elf used when staying here. In that room was a bed where Gen lay with injuries Senkuu couldn’t even identify. Beyond that door stood a wind spirit who had taken the form of a human.

The man before him wore a light gray tunic, black leather gloves and boots, and a yellow cloak and hat like a sunflower. A pigeon feather adorned his hat, signifying that he was a peace-loving being. Somewhat ironic, considering the large bow slung across the wind spirit’s back.

“For now, I’ve cast a healing spell on My Little Spell. Let’s let him rest for a few days while we wait for Pastor Xeno and Warrior Stanley,” he said.
Senkuu looked at the wind spirit before him, but his eyes were vacant and devoid of light.

“Oh.” Then, “Thank you. Really.”

“It’s my duty to protect him,” said the Wind Spirit with a nod, taking a seat beside Senkuu without asking for permission.

“I’ve sent a wind pigeon to deliver the news to both his fathers. By my calculations, it should arrive in an hour,” the Wind Spirit said.

Senkuu blinked slowly as if his eyes were stuck together with sap, not fatigue. “That means they’ll be here before sunrise.”

“As expected from the young scientist. My Little Spell told me his fiancé is a living clock who can count every second even while sleeping,” he said in admiration.

Even the faint joy of hearing that his fiancé had talked about him to the Wind Spirit didn’t make Senkuu smile in the slightest. If anything, it made his smile twist bitterly.

A moment of silence passed before the Wind Spirit continued, this time with a serious tone of reprimand, “That was dangerous.”

“I know,” he replied.

“No, you don’t,” the Wind Spirit countered. “You have no idea.”

“...I know.” He conceded.

It was true. Senkuu knew nothing. In his 16 years of life as a proud Science Scholar, Ishigami Senkuu had never wanted to curse himself this badly. Even a hatred curse would have been too light a punishment.

Senkuu had always pursued knowledge, but now knowledge had abandoned him, turning him into a helpless figure.

That was a few hours ago.

When the science he had chased all this time began to leave him in the dark. When the elf’s body—one that always danced and dodged so easily with a sly smile—was hurled right in front of him. When Senkuu could do nothing but kneel in helplessness.

Kohaku, shocked at seeing Gen’s body flung, failed to block the Griffin’s attack in front of her, causing the warrior vampire to be thrown and break bones in her arm. The only weapon left, a flamethrower, had run out of ammunition due to the lack of mana stones. While Senkuu’s gaze was locked on his unconscious fiancé’s body, his genius mind melted down.
He only snapped out of his trance when the Griffin approached Gen again. Once more, fear gnawed at every marrow in his bones. Senkuu dug into every scrap of knowledge that might save his fiancé’s life, even though his brain was no longer functioning properly.

In desperation, Senkuu—who never believed in faith—began to pray to any god that his fiancé would survive. That prayer was answered by the Wind Spirit who suddenly appeared, launching a wind arrow that killed the wounded Griffin in a single shot. Without a second thought, Senkuu dashed madly to his unconscious fiancé’s side.

When he saw him, he didn’t know whether to feel relieved because there were no visible injuries, or worried because the absence of wounds meant the internal damage was so severe that it turned his fiancé paler than a blood-starved vampire. Senkuu cradled the half-elf’s body with trembling hands.

“Gen, Mentalist. Wake up.” he called desperately, “Hey, this isn’t the time for jokes, you Deceptive Sorcerer.”

He felt his friends gather around him, surrounding Gen and hoping the Mentalist would wake up and crack a joke like one of his usual magic tricks. But the half-elf didn’t wake, as if it was too comfortable to keep sleeping. A beautiful face wrapped in pale white skin.

“Gen…” Senkuu gently shook his body.

“Don’t shake him,” came a reprimanding voice from behind. When Senkuu looked up, the speaker was the Wind Spirit in human form, one hand holding a bow, the other holding his fiancé’s Aetherite staff.

“Lay him down gently,” he commanded, as soft as his voice.

With trembling hands, Senkuu obeyed. He scooted slightly to let the Wind Spirit see Gen but didn’t let him get too close to his fiancé. If he weren’t too panicked, Senkuu might have thought the Wind Spirit was amused by his possessiveness.

The Wind Spirit knelt beside Gen, observing his condition for a moment before sighing and furrowing his brow with a mix of annoyance and affection. He shook his head once before placing the Aetherite Staff on Gen’s chest, while the elf’s pale hands were cupped over the purple gem in the pendant and the base of the staff.

“That staff…” Senkuu narrowed his gaze at the item. Before the chaos became uncontrollable, Gen had lost that staff and insisted on retrieving it. His fiancé had said he needed it for something, but Senkuu had repeatedly interrupted because the situation was too chaotic to process anything.  

Now that his head was somewhat clearer, Senkuu began to suspect something he hoped he was wrong about. But it seemed he was right. Especially after seeing that pale skin slowly returning to color, even if at a slow pace.

“Senkuu, it looks like Gen is starting to recover,” Suika said with hope.
Senkuu wished for the same, his hands clenched in despair. Beside him, the Wind Spirit covered his fiancé’s hands, holding tightly over the glowing Aetherite gem.

“Gen,” the Wind Spirit called, “My Little Spell. Can you hear me? It’s me, Ukyo.”

“So this Wind Spirit’s name is Ukyo,” he thought.

At Ukyo’s call, the purple gem began to glow brighter, blinking faintly as if it were a dying heartbeat.

“Or is it really?! Any god, please don’t take my fiancé or I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” he prayed silently.

Elf songs could only be sung by elves, but strangely this Wind Spirit chanted a gentle song in the same tongue. As the song flowed, the gem’s pulse grew steadier. Until the final verse, the Wind Spirit clasped his fiancé’s hand and clearly chanted a spell:

“Aetherite. Solruby. Soularis. Saint Healing.”

A purple light shone from the Aetherite gem in the pendant and staff, orange-reddish light glowed from the Solruby gems on his shoe hems, while a soft bluish-white light like the northern aurora pulsed from the chest hidden beneath his clothing. The gems glowed and pulsed in succession to heal their owner. As the light faded, his fiancé’s face brightened, no longer resembling the pale corpse it had just moments before.

Even so, tension still flowed in their veins, choking every breath as long as the half-elf hadn’t opened his eyes and confirmed his return to the living world. After 5 minutes and 49 seconds of held breath, Senkuu exhaled in deep relief when he saw the beautiful half-elf’s eyes flutter open. He was even more grateful to gods he never believed in when he heard his name spoken in a soft voice.

“Senkuu-chan.”

And Senkuu couldn’t be more thankful. “Thank goodness. I thought I’d lost you, idiot.”

Now.....

“You really thought you were going to lose him, didn’t you?” Ukyo teased.

Senkuu kept his head down, answering weakly, “Yeah.”

The wall clock in his noble house ticked, echoing the seconds Senkuu always counted in his head. But now, his thoughts seemed shattered like hot glass doused in ice water. One part still counted the seconds, counting down his own death by the hands of Stanley the Sniper’s arrow.  Another part cycled through a thousand questions—

‘Why can’t my fiancé walk without that staff? Is it not just a decorative piece? What exactly happened to my fiancé’s body? Is he sick?’

While the rest of his brain tried to barge in to see his fiancé’s condition with his own eyes.

Trapped in a spiral of riddles, Senkuu took a hard breath, “There’s no point in dwelling on everything in one place. It’s better to ask the expert directly. That’s the path of a scientist.”

“Hey,” Senkuu called, still unable to look at anything but the floor tiles.

“Hm.” Ukyo hummed.

“That staff... it’s not just an ordinary staff, is it?” Senkuu swallowed the bitter lump lodged in his throat; asking and hearing the truth felt unbearably heavy.

When the Wind Spirit nodded, Senkuu felt like crumbling, his heart slashed open by daggers. He asked again, “And those gems, they’re not just decorations, are they?”

The Wind Spirit nodded again. But Senkuu felt like his head had been cleaved by an axe at the execution block. Like his body was no longer connected to his head. He swallowed thickly, choking on bile that nearly made him vomit. His sharp nails dug into his face in deep frustration.

Regret.

Ukyo leaned his bow against the wall beside him, bringing his hands together, elbows resting on his knees while his palms supported his chin. His voice was low, but it pierced more than any shout or curse.

“Without the staff and those gems, My Little Spell could barely get out of bed,” Ukyo said, his words flipping through memories like worn-out books. “After the terrible incident that happened to him at eight years old, My Little Spell lost everything. Especially the sky he loved so dearly.”

That new information brought bile rising to his throat again. Just a bit more, and he would vomit acid—and maybe blood—from the breakfast he had just yesterday. Struggling to keep it down, he turned to Ukyo.

“What... do you mean?” Senkuu asked, eyes wide. “What kind of incident?!”

Ukyo tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion, “You didn’t know anything?”

Senkuu shook his head rapidly, as if it would fall off. As if his soul was about to leave his body. On the other side, Ukyo rubbed his forehead, exhaling with frustration—a mix of annoyance and irritation—at Gen who was still lying in bed.

After taking a deep breath, Ukyo looked at him firmly, as if he were revealing a secret of the universe. “Listen. After that incident, Gen lost his wyvern wings and his legs. Not only that, the incident made Gen’s elf crystal soul unstable. And as you know, even with those rare gems, his body is as fragile as a sick human’s.”

Senkuu’s body felt like it shattered from the inside. The air around him vanished—no air pressure, no sound, not even the logic that always quietly accompanied him. Everything collapsed as the truth was revealed piece by piece.

Gen is sick. Gen is hurt. Gen is broken—and this foolish genius scientist knew nothing!

Truth after truth was revealed, clue after clue he hadn’t missed—but had easily dismissed, as if refusing to believe. Now his mind spun, slamming back with all those small moments.

His fiancé’s sweet laughter, his teasing remarks, his light footsteps that never sounded quite consistent—masked by the tapping of his wooden staff. The way Gen always touched objects around him—not out of mischief, but to stay balanced. The way he always leaned on sturdy things nearby. The way Gen was always out of breath whenever they stood or walked too long. The way Gen always took great care climbing steps or getting in and out of carriages. The way he—

“Refused our invitation to the celebration after last year’s storm. His fiancé was suffering and Senkuu still didn’t understand any of it!”

He was too stupid to grasp it all.

“This doesn’t make sense. Gen never said anything! He even climbed a hill with us yesterday—you saw it yourself!” he protested in disbelief.

Ukyo’s brow furrowed angrily, as if the mention of their expedition upset the Wind Spirit. Even so, his words were still laced with calm. “It’s just my guess, maybe My Little Spell snuck in a body-enhancing potion—or some kind of doping elixir.”

That wasn’t a guess, that was a fact! Senkuu had seen it with his own eyes—how Gen secretly drank the potion like he was stealing something. Senkuu was truly devastated, his expression so miserable that Ukyo winced sympathetically.

“So it’s true,” Ukyo took a heavy breath, “Unfortunately, with Gen’s current condition, that doping potion will only worsen his health. My Little Spell... really burned himself up just to look strong.”

If Senkuu had felt crushed before, now he was utterly shattered. Literally. He felt like one of his teeth had fallen out.
It happened so suddenly when a loud thud echoed through the corridor.

One moment, Senkuu sat beside Ukyo, face shaken. The next, Senkuu was sprawled on the floor like a bat with its wings cut. Senkuu spat out the tooth he’d lost and the heavy metallic taste of blood in his mouth, his shaken mind thinking—

“As expected. A punch from fighter elf Stanley really is something. I deserve—”

“You deserved that, kid. Again.”

A furious growl echoed through the corridor of the Ishigami noble house. But unlike his assumption, that growl didn’t come from fighter elf Stanley.
Instead, it came from—

“Pastor Xeno!” Ukyo gasped. Even the Wind Spirit with super senses could never have expected that the old scientist would punch Senkuu flat to the ground.

Senkuu propped himself up with one hand, the other rubbing his nearly broken jaw. In front of him stood the terrifying figure of the pure-blooded Wyvern lineage, wings of a dragon spread wide through the corridor, clawed hands sharp like branches, horns jutting out like blades.

One word. Terrifying.

“And this monster is seriously going to slit my throat.”

To say that Ishigami Senkuu was surprised would be an understatement. But to say that Ishigami Senkuu was scared—that would be entirely accurate. There wasn’t a single creature—from any race—in this world who would not cower before the wrath—the power—of an enraged venomous wyvern.

Xeno gritted his teeth, veins bulging at his temples, his breathing heavy like a wild beast’s, his eyes darkening like a scientist consumed by evil, his voice growling, “You bastard. What the hell do you think you’ve done to My Little Elf?!”

The old wyvern swung his fist again at Senkuu, landing it right on his temple, making his eye swell. His vision blurred with blood and tears. Even so, the old wyvern didn’t seem satisfied and looked ready to kick him with his pointed boots. Senkuu would’ve probably had a few broken ribs if not for Ukyo stepping in to stop the wild assault.

“Pastor Xeno, wait!” Ukyo shouted, grabbing the old wyvern’s arm to stop him from killing the dying vampire. “Please, calm your anger.”

Xeno didn’t listen, still growling at Senkuu who was lying there like a dying dog. “Forgive me, Young Ukyo. But I truly want to kill this stupid bastard.”

The old wyvern’s wings flapped furiously, creating a compressed air pressure that shattered the nearby window, scattering shards everywhere. The sound of breaking glass rang sharply in the ears of the sensitive Wind Spirit, like icy needles piercing his eardrums. Ukyo winced at the sound, stumbling a little as the sting nearly blinded his senses. That weakened Ukyo’s grip on Xeno. Just a little more effort and Senkuu would’ve lost another front tooth.

Almost.

“Xeno!” came the commanding voice of the fighter elf, Stanley, breaking the pitiful chaos.

The fighter elf arrived with a large bag on his back. And behind him was Byakuya, rubbing his aching old spine.

If his life and teeth weren’t at stake, Senkuu might’ve cracked a joke about Byakuya being an old man with back pain.

Unfortunately, his luck had always been the worst.

At the very least, he was still alive. Thanks to Stanley.

Stanley, the elf Senkuu once thought would be the one to put him in a grave, was now the one stopping his husband from destroying Ishigami Senkuu and his residence. The elf said—

“Calm down. First, check on Gen’s condition.”

Hearing his son’s name, the wyvern no longer flapped his dragon wings wildly. He turned to Ukyo and asked, “Young Ukyo. How’s Gen? Is he—”

His question was cut off when a pained whimper came from behind the wall, signaling the figure lying in bed was now conscious—maybe. As if forgetting his overflowing rage, Xeno rushed into the room to check on his son. Stanley followed and shut the door tightly. A minute passed and the whimpering didn’t stop. Only when the noble house—previously shrouded in the wrath and poison of the wyvern—finally calmed down, did the whimpering fade. Even so, neither Stanley nor Xeno opened the door again. As if the door itself rejected anyone who wasn’t meant to know.

Senkuu’s heart sank even deeper.

Most parents would panic seeing their only child beaten half to death right under their nose—and in their home. But not Byakuya. The old vampire simply rubbed his aching back before looking at him with pity. His free thumb pointed at Senkuu as if giving both praise and mockery. The old man said—

“You look pathetic, Senku.” He said it without the slightest burden, as if he came just to sprinkle salt on the wound. Then turned and walked away, leaving the mess behind.

If Senkuu had still been the same Senkuu, he might’ve punched his own father. Senkuu wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, wincing as he felt the gap from his missing tooth. His swollen eye was darkening, his vision blurring along with the dizziness in his head.

Ukyo looked at him with pity, gripping his shoulder tightly as if to ground him, “Senkuu, I’m sorry for Pastor Xeno’s aggression. He’s just—well, that’s how he is.”
Ukyo continued, “I just want you to know, the truth about what happened to Gen is well hidden. In this world, only I, Gen’s parents, and...”

His red eyes widened—except the swollen one—, “Byakuya... he knows?!”

“Of course, he’s the one who accepted the engagement proposal,” Ukyo nodded. “If you want the truth, you’ll have to ask him. I’m not sure My Little Spell or his parents are willing to talk, for now.”

Senkuu scratched his hair, finding a shard of glass tangled in it. Frustrated, he flung it aside and stood up, heading for Byakuya’s room. Before facing him, he stopped by his own room to patch himself up, only to wince at how beaten up he looked.

Like a beaten dog.

His heart turned even more bitter when he realized—his front tooth had fallen out again, leaving both his upper and lower teeth with gaps.

“Well. At least I can regrow it in a few days.”

.

.

.

The wooden door creaked open, revealing a gap-toothed and bruised vampire wrapped in bandages. The only eye that wasn’t—yet—swollen scanned the room, then stopped on the figure of the old vampire hidden among piles of thick books. It was rare for Byakuya to spend time in the library. Usually, the old man would spend his time in the office, working on documents and lesson plans. After all, his father was a Master.

Senkuu closed the door with a creak, his feet stepping toward the spot where Byakuya sat. The man’s eyes pointed toward the empty chair across from him, prompting Senkuu to drag it with a loud screech before taking a seat. When they were face to face, Senkuu broke the silence,

“So, what really happened?” Senkuu asked, his gaze sharp as he awaited the answer. “To my fiancé.”

Byakuya leaned back, raising an eyebrow as he sneered mockingly, “So… you’re finally calling Gen-chan your fiancé, hm?”

Senkuu scoffed in annoyance, his pinky scratching his ear, “Quit playing around, Old Man.”

Byakuya clutched his chest with an overly dramatic expression of pain. Once the old vampire finished acting like a theater actor, he handed over an old scroll titled “Anatomy and Reproduction of Heaven’s Beloved Beings: Elves.” The book he had once avoided in the past. Come to think of it, it was rather strange that such a specific book on elves could be found in a vampire residence.

Senkuu pulled the book closer, brushing the worn page that lay open. On the parchment were clearly written and illustrated every inch of an elf’s anatomy. And of course—the genital area was explained as well. Senkuu sighed, trying not to care.

Byakuya tapped the table with his fingers, his other hand pinching the bridge of his wrinkled nose. As if the old man had a headache. After a long sigh, he said, “Senkuu, you know that elves are born with a crystal embedded in their bodies, don’t you?”

Senkuu narrowed his eyes, retrieving that scientific knowledge from his hippocampal memory. It didn’t take a second for Senkuu to nod, “Hm. As far as I know, elves are born with extraordinary magical abilities. That’s not without reason, apparently they’re born with a magic crystal embedded in their chest. That allows their mana control and spell mastery to surpass that of any other race.”

Byakuya nodded once, then leaned his head back to gaze at the ceiling, “And then, do you know anything about the wings of the wyvern race?”

His brow twitched; he hated riddles. But as a scientist, Senkuu had to be patient to reach the truth. Even if that truth tore his heart. He answered quickly, “Thanks to their pure wyvern bloodline, they’re blessed with strong dragon wings, sharp horns and claws. In other words, a powerful body.”

Byakuya nodded again. His red eyes gazed off at a row of bats hanging from the ceiling. Without turning to Senkuu, he continued, “So, based on genetic calculations—or whatever—the combination of a strong-bodied pure wyvern and an elf with immense magic would produce an offspring that’s 10 billion percent extraordinary, wouldn’t it?”

Senkuu nodded quickly. It’s not like he’d never wondered. He always found it odd that Gen seemed as fragile as a little princess, while both his parents were powerful and fierce. It wasn’t once that he questioned why the half-elf didn’t have wings like his father Xeno. Or a soldier’s agility like his father Stanley—

“Wait! So—it’s not that he wasn’t born with them—he lost them!” Senkuu jerked upright, his knuckles clenched with veins of fury.

His foul mood was met by another nod from Byakuya. As if his father could read his mind like an open book. Byakuya furrowed his brow, gazing at him with concern, both hands joined, elbows resting on the table. Byakuya looked ready to open the ancient recording of his fiancé’s short life.

“Elves are known for their grace and wisdom. Wyverns for their cold intellect and culture. But they share one thing: pride, arrogance, power, and honor.” Byakuya spoke as if composing chapter 101 of the 100 Sacred Tales preserved by his family.

“When Stanley and Xeno united, they bore a child—half wyvern, half elf. A magic crystal embedded in his chest, pointy elf ears adorned his delicate face. While wyvern horns and wings protruded from his head and back.”

Byakuya pushed over the scroll illustrating wyvern and elf anatomy, then flipped to the page that showed a hybrid of both—like young Gen.

“This might not be the first time someone was born of mixed blood. Therefore, the discrimination from both their races didn’t truly disturb the peace of that happy family. Instead of breaking down, the child who was once looked down on became a mage with the most promising and desirable potential.” Byakuya smiled, his voice softened by pride and admiration.

“Gen was born in perfect balance. A strong body and rich mana. Wyvern wings no better than gliders—Gen turned them into wings that let him soar through the skies. Elf magic, usually limited to one element, was played by Gen like a sleight-of-hand card trick. A miracle of magic.” he said.

Senkuu agreed, his lips curving upward, his sharp eyes softening as the furrow on his brow unraveled. He pictured his fiancé—a spoiled and adorable child—floating in the air and growing flowering vines. The reflection of silver hair and a small smile on his fiancé’s face somehow warmed his heart.

But that joy quickly turned to a deep frown as his father’s expression changed. His eyes sank, his voice heavier.

“A curse as well.”

Senkuu turned quickly.

His father’s voice was low, barely a whisper. If not for Senkuu’s sharp senses, he would’ve missed it. His brows furrowed deeper with every word his father said.

“The elves and wyverns who once looked down on Gen like a neglected flower bush. Couldn’t help but act like aphids swarming to devour that blooming flower. As if they wanted their filthy hands to chew on the blossom that bloomed between the stones.” His father spoke with a growl. It made Senkuu feel the same.

Senkuu tensed like a string pulled taut, “So, were those bastard races the ones who hurt my fiancé?”

Byakuya snorted in amusement, wanting to laugh because Senkuu once again acknowledged Gen as his fiancé. But since he was in the middle of the story, he had to resist teasing his son. Instead, he said with a crooked smile, “Do you think Xeno and Stanley would allow that to happen?”

Pain stung his jaw and swollen eye, his body recalling the trauma of Xeno’s punch. That was just the old wyvern hitting him and Senkuu had already felt half-dead. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if Stanley got involved and gave him a beating.

“Seems Lady Fortuna still has mercy on me.”

“They wouldn’t let anyone touch him,” Senkuu shook his head, “Then who hurt him?”

Byakuya tilted his head, his face wincing with a bitter smile, “They were humans.”

Huh?

His jaw dropped, trembling not from pain but from shock. It was illogical—impossible—for humans, who were clearly weaker than any other race, to harm Gen, especially when he was under the full protection of his parents. He gasped, “How..?”

Byakuya didn’t answer right away, as if telling this tragic story tore apart every part of his soul. Silence passed for 1 minute and 56 seconds before Byakuya swallowed hard and continued.

“Although this half-elf, half-wyvern child was known to be clever, cunning, and manipulative. He hid an unbound soul that danced with the sky and a soft heart that bloomed among flower fields. He loved the sky and flower fields with all their beauty.”

Senkuu knew that. It showed in the sincere smile that appeared on his fiancé’s face every time those beautiful fingers touched flower petals, and when his eyes sparkled as he gazed at the blue sky above them.

“Meanwhile, humans—even though they are clever and weak—are very greedy. Of course, a magical wonder like little Gen wouldn’t escape their greed,” Byakuya smiled bitterly. “One day, when little Gen was spending time loving the sky and flower fields, those greedy humans managed to catch him... and kidnap him.”

Senkuu’s rage ignited, his nails digging into the flesh of his knees until the scent of iron and blood filled the air. His breath quickened, questions pouring like a barrage of bullets, “When? Who were they? How long did they keep him? What did they want?”

Byakuya winced at the volley of questions fired like rounds. It took a full five minutes to calm Senkuu, who looked ready to burn the world. Once his son returned to logic, Byakuya continued, “They were mercenaries. Supposedly, they believed that by taking wyvern wings, they could fly.”

“Taking...” Senkuu trembled, his mind racing to form the most likely hypothesis about how those humans ‘took’ his fiancé’s wings. Still, he hoped it wasn’t as cruel as he imagined. “How?”

Byakuya’s voice was raspier and lower than before, “They cut them off.”

Saying that Senkuu was angry would be an understatement. Logic barely held back his feral instincts. The only thing keeping him grounded was the need to hear the full story and the metallic taste of blood lingering on his vampire fangs.

“If those humans were still alive, I would—”

Byakuya, once again reading his mind, calmed him, “They’ve long been dead. By Xeno and Stanley, of course.” He continued once his son had calmed a little more—only to ignite his son’s fury again with a story even darker.

“Apparently, they didn’t just cut off his wings. They also locked him up and used little Gen as a power source. His never-ending mana was drained into magic stones to be sold. Xeno and Stanley were only able to rescue him... about a month later.”

Byakuya bowed his head, hiding his face twisted with grief at the trauma his son’s fiancé had endured. “When they finally found him, Gen had nearly lost everything. His beautiful wyvern wings had been forcefully torn from his back, his broken legs never healed properly, and his crystal stone—his second heart—was cracked, disrupting the stability of mana flow in his body.”

Senkuu froze, stiff as a corpse. His throat constricted, his breath caught. His chest felt tight as his heart pounded rapidly. Fear. And yet, Byakuya continued to strike him with tales of torment and trauma.

“As a result, Gen couldn’t control the Mana flowing through his body, especially to his nearly paralyzed legs. It took a full year for Xeno and Stanley to help Gen sit and stand without falling. During that time, they desperately searched for magic stones and rare gems that could stabilize the mana in little Gen’s body. That staff, it was embedded with Aetherite gem on purpose, to help Gen channel his magic. Without the staff and those gems, little Gen... if not permanently disabled—might not have survived at all.”

Senkuu held himself back from punching his own face. He kept imagining Gen leaning against an old tree, clutching the Aetherite crystal on his pendant—his second heart that helped regulate mana. His heart ached remembering Gen’s body falling to the ground, unable to rise or crawl away.

That happened just yesterday, when Gen was already 19 years old. Who knew how much worse it had been when Gen was only 8. When Senkuu was still happily playing with glass tubes with Chrome. His Gen, his fiancé, had to face the cruel fact that he might become disabled—a small body that fell over and over, tiny hands reaching for empty air as little Gen learned how to stand.

“And elves live longer than any other race.”

Senkuu punched the table in rage, causing scrolls and books to tumble to the floor. His voice cracked as he shouted, “And he was only 8! What kind of bastard would commit such cruelty!”

Byakuya clenched his teeth, his brows furrowed deeper, staring at Senkuu as if he too could feel his son’s fury. He whispered, “The human who hired the mercenaries to kidnap little Gen... was the prime minister under the 19th king—Ibara.”

Hearing that bastard’s name made him gag, his stomach churned as bile rose to his throat. Senkuu growled in disgust, “The bastard who murdered his own king and nearly destroyed our magic stone mines?!”

Realization hit him like a hammer. So, the origin of those cheap magic stones that ruined the market—was from Gen’s mana! Disgust didn’t even begin to cover the storm of emotions boiling in him. “They treated my fiancé like cheap merchandise!”

Byakuya nodded, “There are more than 1001 ways for a mad scientist and a demonic warrior to avenge their son’s suffering. In the end, after Ibara received his karma and the 20th king, Soyuz, ascended the throne, the two of them offered the Ishigami family a very interesting deal.”

“What was it?” Senkuu already had a faint idea, but still asked.

Byakuya exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging as if a great weight had been lifted from his long-held secret, “The Ishigami family would take public responsibility for Ibara’s murder. In return, Xeno and Stanley generously gave us magic stones and rare gems they found during their business travels. Then, they offered to marry my son to theirs, entrusting him to us for all his immortal years.”

Byakuya continued, “Gen’s abduction was never made public. People only knew from circulating rumors that: the Ishigami family was behind the murder of the traitorous Prime Minister—Ibara.”

“Even though we’re supposed to be the villains in this world,” the old vampire’s lips curled in a dry smile, his eyes narrowing, “We were instead hailed as heroes for killing the traitor Ibara. Quite ironic, isn’t it, Senkuu.”

Senkuu had never considered the reasons behind his engagement. Nor the various interpretations society had about his family. He always thought this engagement was like any other. A way to raise status or protect wealth and intellect. He never expected that this engagement was purely for...

“Vampires are a race that can live nearly as long as elves. They placed Gen by our side—by my side—purely to protect him like a trophy.”

“Did you accept Gen as a gift?! Like a free trophy to be displayed?!” Senkuu snapped. His emotions overwhelmed him, overriding the logic he always held above all else.

Byakuya smacked his furious son with a thick book from the table, offended, “Do you think your father would ever do such a thing?”

Another bump added to his head, and he winced as the sting of swelling returned. Then again, he deserved it. He knew his father and knew for sure that Byakuya would never do something that pathetic. He was just so furious he could’ve blown up the town square with dynamite.

Byakuya adjusted himself, “At first, I wanted to refuse. After all, a forced engagement would never work on you. Unless that person had ‘science’ as a middle name,” his father added, half-teasing.

“But after learning the story and seeing little Gen’s... suffering, I swore to shoulder part of his pain. And I believed Senkuu would help him too, even if you didn’t love him.”

The old vampire’s red eyes shimmered, reflecting both responsibility and hope, while his lips moved as if reciting a solemn vow from the soul.

“I didn’t choose Gen for you, Senkuu. I chose you for Gen.”

In front of him, Byakuya wasn’t acting as the family head who handed over an engagement scroll, but as a father who loved his son. And Gen had become one of his sons.

His red eyes blinked slowly, his ragged breathing now steadier. The emotions that had been overflowing were calmed once more by the logic that cleared his head. His hand roughly wiped his face, fingers digging into his gravity-defying hair—locks he never bothered to fix expect when frustration like this got the better of him. Even after learning the truth of his fiancé’s dark past, Senkuu didn’t feel any relief. On the contrary, his heart felt terrible—like a rag repeatedly used to clean up the stains of failed experiments on the floor.

He felt helpless. Useless. And stupid.

If he couldn’t be a partner, at the very least he should’ve been a shield in silence. A living wall for the flower that had already been cut twice. Yet not a single one of those tasks had Senkuu succeeded in fulfilling.

For the first time, Ishigami Senkuu had no plan.

.

.

Chapter Text

The night had grown late, yet the lanterns still glowed dimly in the corners of the old laboratory, filled with the scent of metal, oil, and burning gemstones. The glass-covered wooden table in the center of the room was cluttered with abandoned tools and crumpled parchment paper that had been reread far too often. The ticking of the old clock echoed hollowly, as if marking the silence left behind by a series of failed experiments.

Senkuu stared at the old scroll depicting the anatomy of a wyvern, spread out before him. His fingers brushed over the worn parchment, tracing the lines that formed the pattern of wyvern wings. His eyes shifted from the scroll to the miniature prototype Kaseki had designed based on his blueprint. While his mind wandered, imagining the flying machine Kaseki was constructing based on the latest prototype and blueprint.

His goal this time was only one—well, two maybe—that was to offer a thousand skies to his fiancé.
“You mean your ex-fiancé?” a whisper drifted behind him, tickling his ears.

“No, you’re ‘not yet an ex’.” Senkuu denied.

“But, Xeno already ended it last week, am I wrong?” the whisper teased again, forming a vein at Senkuu’s temple.

“We haven’t. Xeno said ‘he would consider it’ not ‘he would cancel it’. Did your brain process that, idiot?”

“It’s the same thing.” The whisper turned into an annoying squeak, “Senkuu broke up with Gen! Senkuu broke up with Gen! Senkuu broke u—ugh!”

The squeak stopped when its small body was crushed by the rough hand of an offended vampire. And this offended vampire glared with demonic eyes at his pet—or experimental bat-rabbit, if you asked Senkuu.

“If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll roast you in the furnace! Got it!” Senkuu threatened. His eyes bulged, vampire fangs clenched in his tense jaw.

“Chiiiirp!” The bat shrieked, terrified that its master might actually roast it in the furnace. And it probably would have become roasted bat-bad if not for someone who saved it.

“I didn’t expect you’d be so offended by the broken engagement, Senkuu.”
The door creaked open, revealing the figure of a gallant warrior, her golden hair shimmering like a lion’s mane roaring across the grasslands, her eyes narrowing as sharply as a soaring eagle’s. The perfect blend of lion and eagle, a Griffin.

Or... not really. In truth, it was simply the strongest warrior vampire of the Ishigami Household, Kohaku.

Senkuu released his grip on the bat-bad, the cursed bat of his, which immediately flew up to hide in the laboratory’s ceiling. His red eyes glanced briefly at Kohaku before returning to the scattered scrolls. For a second, his eyes narrowed, unsure whether to feel relieved or annoyed by her presence. His brows furrowed like the turbulent ripples of emotions in his heart. Senkuu stayed silent, like a calm sea waiting for a storm to strike.

Getting no response from the other vampire, Kohaku spoke again, “A year ago, I heard someone swear they’d dig up their fiancé’s darkest secret. Then use it to blackmail and annul their engagement. A year later, that person got it. And guess what they’re doing? Now that person’s offended because the engagement is ‘at risk’ of being canceled.”

Senkuu ignored Kohaku’s taunt, stepping toward a baby blue flower pot just sprouting. So small and fragile, an experiment—his and his fiancé’s—that would—must!—succeed. His rough fingers stroked the baby blue flower gently, as if whispering promises for the future.
A moment of silence blanketed the room, but the silence was comforting for the scientist. As if it gave him space to breathe, slightly freed from the shackles of ‘guilt’ weighing him down.

“Not only that,” Kohaku continued her taunt, approaching Senkuu just to smack his shoulder, “That same person also swore to offer a thousand skies to their fiancé. Locking themselves up in a foolish experiment to recreate flowers and flight magic that vanished over a thousand years ago.”

Hearing that, his brows twitched, breath puffing out in frustration as his tongue clicked in irritation. The vampire’s red eyes glared sharply at the warrior vampire, “"Tch! Had your fill of mocking me, Miss Wild-Griffin-Gorilla-Freak?"

The vampire’s eyes widened in fury, pupils narrowing like clashing blades, unwilling to accept the animalistic nickname Senkuu gave her. Her foot kicked Senkuu’s shin, making the scientist vampire groan in pain. As if satisfied with her one-sided torment, Kohaku smiled and sat by the window ledge. The vampire’s sharp eyes locked on the moon hanging in the sky. A silver jewel barely visible, as if unwilling to show itself and choosing instead to hide behind the clouds.

“That moon is like Gen.” Kohaku whispered to the night breeze.

“Hmn.” Senkuu hummed in agreement. Still pitying his poor leg.

A pause, then :“What can I help you with, Senkuu?”

Senkuu rubbed his aching leg, Kohaku’s kick truly painful—like being kicked by a horse. Still scowling, his eyes glanced at Kohaku resting on the windowsill. That warrior vampire was tough, yet her heart was gentle and kind. Even with her recently healed arm after a previous battle, the girl came to his lab to offer her help.

Senkuu wondered, why. Was it guilt for failing to protect his fiancé from the Griffin attack? Or was it a sense of debt from the Solruby gem Gen had given her, which saved her sister’s life but endangered Gen’s own health? Or was it simply a pure desire to help, from conscience? Senkuu didn’t know. What he did know, was that he was a true scientist in pursuit of knowledge. And a pragmatic scientist like Senkuu would never waste a free offer of help.

“We need someone to test this flying machine.”

.

.

.

Three days after Xeno's rampage, Senkuu had regained his lost tooth. The swelling in his eye and head had healed, replaced by his usual handsome face. The servants even teased him for finally being able to open both of his eyes properly. His feet carried him toward the one place that, since two days ago, had refused to open its door to Ishigami Senkuu—even though the room’s occupant knew this was his home.

Gen’s room.

According to his father, Gen had regained consciousness that morning. The servants had prepared grated radish porridge and moonleaf broth to aid his recovery. The guards came to his door, delivering rare magic stones from the Ishigami mines to help stabilize his mana circulation.

Gen had recovered. Maybe.

Unfortunately, the good news wasn’t enough to calm his heart. That was why Senkuu now stood before Gen’s door. His hand reached out to open the door that had rejected his presence. But before his hand could grasp the handle, he froze mid-air. His body stood stiff like a board planted in the ground, his ears sharpening, his brow furrowing.

All because of what he heard.

Not that the voice behind the door was loud—on the contrary, it was more like a whisper. Maybe because vampires were blessed with sharp hearing. That must be it. Even when silence reigned, even when his feet carried him backward to square one, Gen’s conversation with his parents still echoed in his ears like worms crawling inside.

“We allowed you to use magic within limits. And what did you do now? A secret expedition to Galeveil Forest to find molting Griffin feathers, engaging in mating battles for dominance with their flocks?! In your condition?!” The old wyvern growled in frustration, his leather boots clacking behind the wall.

That thunderous wyvern voice made his heart pound, his palms sweat, and his spine straighten. And it seemed he wasn’t the only one feeling that fear.

“I’m sorry—” the voice whispered, low as a breeze, yet still heard by the vampire’s sharp senses.

“Enough! I don’t want to hear it! I’ve heard enough about how foolish you are, My Precious Little Elf.” Xeno cut in, his tone sharp as if he was both fed up and exhausted by Gen’s apologies.

“Is this not the first time?” Senkuu thought.

There was no response from the half-elf, only a painful whimper. From behind the door, a soft cough from the elf warrior was heard, followed by a frustrated sigh from the old wyvern, Xeno. When the groan faded, the wyvern spoke again, now with a softer, clearly worried tone.

“What you did was reckless, child. You could’ve been killed, again. You—ah, you’re driving us mad. What were you thinking?”

His fiancé didn’t answer right away. Instead, the Wind Spirit, Ukyo, replied. “They... are planning to build a flying machine.”

“You what—!!” Xeno cut himself off before shouting. If his guess was right, Senkuu assumed Xeno had scared Gen again. Proven by the whimper that followed from the half-elf, likely still lying weak in bed.

The sound of boots grew louder, faster, more frustrated—then was replaced with another tired sigh. His voice softened again, “I won’t be mad. But tell me, your father. Why?”

“Why did you do it? Why do you insist despite knowing your body can’t handle it?”

Senkuu wondered the same.

“I...”

The vampire’s bat-like ears sharpened, trying to catch every word from that frail voice.

“I just wanted... to feel one sky beneath my feet. Just one. Just once.”

“Even if it’s only an illusion... or a delusion.”

“.....”

Senkuu had already turned away, walking quickly as if fleeing from something he couldn’t face. What a shame—he was a cold vampire, completely uninterested in hearing or witnessing emotionally draining scenes. So the idea of staying there wasn’t a good sign for him. Still, he was annoyed at himself for having listened to that desperate voice escape his fiancé’s lips.

The Gen he knew was a cheerful, beautiful half-elf, but also a cunning and manipulative half-wyvern. Completely different from the sorrowful and hurt Gen he had just heard. This Gen—Senkuu didn’t like him. Senkuu hated him.

Hated himself for proudly witnessing his fiancé’s suffering peel open.

In the end, his feet took him to the laboratory—or more precisely, the greenhouse. Senkuu buried his hate-filled thoughts into their research. Into the blue baby flowers that failed to bloom without an elf mother to care for them.

20,996 seconds passed, and Senkuu was still immersed in his work, crossbreeding the wilting blue flowers. Even though his mind was focused on his research, his sharp ears caught the light footsteps tapping on the tiled floor.

Senkuu thought it was Xeno, but there was no distinct knock from leather shoes. Instead, the footsteps sounded like an eagle landing on a branch.

“It was Stanley.”

Without turning around—afraid his head might suddenly be severed from his body—Senkuu spoke in a low, polite, and tense voice, trying to minimize any provocative tone that might trigger the wrath of the Warrior Elf.

“So, is it Lord Stanley who’s going to beat me up this time?”

Stanley stood beside him, weaponless, yet his presence alone was heavy enough to kill without touching. A cigar curled between his elegant fingers—fingers as slender as his fiancé’s. The old elf took a deep drag as if he had never smoked in his life. When he exhaled, the smoke danced in the air like embers from a restrained breath.

“You’ve got guts, kid,” a hoarse voice echoed amidst the tobacco haze, so stifling it constricted the chest of anyone who heard it. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curved into a thin smile. “What’s your pick? Get killed for endangering my Little Wyvern, or get killed for eavesdropping on my family’s conversation?”

Even with his life hanging by a thread, Senkuu had the guts to chuckle. “Keh keh keh, as if I had a choice.”

“Hmn.” Stanley hummed in amusement. The old elf took another drag, twice, exhaling smoke through his sharp nose. “What a shame you left mid-discussion. Now I have to go through the trouble of telling you this personally.”

Senkuu scratched his ear with his pinky. “What a shame. I’m not interested in tearjerker scenes.”

Stanley tossed away the cigar that had burned out in three minutes. He grabbed another and lit it with a flame-thrower. Quite amusing, seeing a flame-thrower that Senkuu and his group used to torch Griffin wings now used by Stanley as a mere lighter.

“What did he say?”

“You’re actually asking?”

Stanley glanced down at the vampire pretending to be stupid, crouched at his feet, and replied without a hint of emotion, “Chattery Wyvern Xeno said, ‘We’ll discuss the wedding arrangements after this matter is resolved.’ Now you know the real reason behind the engagement. Aside from losing some rare magic stone supplies, the Ishigami family wouldn’t suffer any real losses. You should be happy, kid.”

Even though Senkuu already knew what the family had discussed, it still annoyed him. Of course, there was no way he didn’t know. Even if he had left the door on time, their bats were always hanging from the ceiling, eavesdropping.

“And of course, Stanley knows that. He’s totally mocking me.”

Suppressing a scowl, Senkuu clenched his fists until his nails dug into his skin, ears tuned sharply to Stanley’s words.

“We’ll revisit the engagement arrangement after you officially come of age at 17. Next year will be our final visit to this house. Prepare yourself, kid.”

Hearing it through the bats and hearing it directly were two entirely different things. Stanley’s words—despite lacking a weapon pointed at his throat—sliced through his heart like a thin dagger. Emotions tangled like threads in a knot, impossible to unravel one by one, trapping Senkuu, who always relied on rationality, in a swamp of feelings.

Brushing off the complex emotions, Senkuu busied his hands by transferring the blue flowers from one pot to another, waiting for the old elf to continue a conversation that never came. When the elf turned to leave, Senkuu pressed.

“That’s it?”

The old elf paused without turning back, speaking between puffs of tobacco, smoke drifting from his lips like mist from a volcano on the verge of eruption. “What else do you want to hear?”

Still absorbed in his task, Senkuu held in a heavy breath, speaking in the flattest, calmest tone he could muster. “A punch, maybe? You were the only one I thought would kill me in the first place.”

“Hmn.” Stanley chuckled, tossing away the cigar that burned out in four minutes, grabbing another and lighting it again with his flamethrower. “You’re not exactly wrong, kid. At least… not for now.”

Senkuu’s unknowingly tense shoulders loosened, his long-held breath exhaling slowly, relieving the tightness in his chest.

“That means… Stanley won’t kill me. At least not yet.”

Once his lungs were filled with enough oxygen to speak again, Senkuu swallowed and asked with whatever courage he had left, “Why? You’re not the type to be this soft on someone who hurt your little girl… are you?”

“No.” Stanley answered instantly, the purple lipstick on his lips leaving a stain on the cigar. His eagle-sharp eyes scanned Senkuu from head to toe, like looking at a snake caught foolishly in a trap. “You’re really asking?”

“Again. Stanley’s toying with me,” he thought. But just like before, Senkuu preferred hearing it directly from the elf rather than from his bats.

Stanley shifted his gaze to the blue sky above them, unclouded and vast. His eyes dimmed, as if remembering a beautiful memory destroyed by greed. As if recalling his little wyvern fluttering through the skies like a butterfly—those tiny flapping wings crushed by disgusting humans.

When he finally spoke, his heavy voice sounded like he didn’t want to admit it. As if Stanley would rather die than utter the irony that had befallen his little wyvern.

“Because my little wyvern loves you, Senkuu.”

And just like before, that statement slashed his heart like a thin dagger. Like a poisoned needle prick. Like a splash of sulfuric acid melting through him. Like a neutron blast blowing his mind into smoke.

Apparently, Senkuu was becoming a bit of a masochist.

He lowered his head in shame and guilt, burning himself from within like fire sprinkled with salt—painful and never-ending.

Stanley, on the other hand, looked at Senkuu with an unreadable gaze. Like his son, hiding a thousand stories behind an impenetrable mask. Those hawk eyes shifted from Senkuu to the neatly potted blue flowers—tended with care and affection. His eyes narrowed with quiet melancholy before he turned and spoke in an indifferent tone.

“Gen loves red. But he also loves blue.”

“That’s a fine flower, kid.”

Senkuu, still bowing his head in shame, flinched and looked up—only to find Stanley already gone from his side. His eyes widened at the sight of the old elf’s back walking ten meters away. His jaw dropped in disbelief. His heart thumped as if a new variable X had just appeared, smoothing the path to his experiment’s success.

Stanley had given him a second chance!

Trying to contain the euphoria exploding like fireworks across the ceiling, Senkuu clenched the soil beneath him—restraining himself from squeezing the blue blossoms he’d painstakingly bred, just to release his immense relief and joy. His crimson eyes dropped to the blue flowers below, whispering with a laugh that bordered on sinister.

“Keh keh keh, you all must be born safely. So you can meet your ‘Elf Mother.’”

.

.

Senkuu stretched out his stiff legs. His poor shins were truly dry, like tree branches starved of nutrients. Standing in the same spot for three hours without a break had utterly crushed his soft bones.

“How the hell does that Stupid Elf survive lining up this long? He even has permanent injuries in both legs,” Senkuu grumbled, clutching a basket filled with muffins priced at 10 Lunaris coins. A steep price for a single muffin.

“Damn currency. It’s just a silver coin with an atomic number of 47. Tch, that conglomerate merchant Nanami is blatantly robbing commoners’ pockets.”

“Ha ha! You’ve got guts saying that! You sly noble pretending to be a commoner,” a booming laugh roared down the bustling street, belonging to none other than the sea dragon, who leaned casually against a horse-drawn carriage. The pirate captain’s hat cast a shadow over his golden mane.

“What’s a noble of the Magic Stone Mines doing at my bakery, Francoise?”

“Draining your wealth, maybe,” Senkuu snorted, his eyes narrowing at the half-Dragon, half-Merfolk, hybrid. “And what’s a sea dragon doing on land? Lost or stranded?”

The half-hearted jab didn’t seem to bother the merchant.

“Hmn. How rude. Lord Vampire.” The sea dragon’s sharp eyes landed on the basket of muffins hanging from Senkuu’s arm, his grin turning ferocious. “It’s not like you, a hikikomori scientist, to roam the town buying muffins. Those muffins... they’re not for you, are they?”

Senkuu’s brow furrowed as if his face had just been splashed with sour lemon juice. He scoffed, “None of your business.”

“Oh, really?” A sly grin crept onto Ryuusui’s face, as if his sharp intuition had just uncovered something Senkuu himself didn’t realize. Or maybe... he did?

“Senkuu!”

A familiar gooey voice echoed from the end of the street—Suika, rushing toward him. Behind her, Chrome stumbled as he ran, carrying a basket of blue flower sprouts that bore an 80% resemblance to the Blue Moon-Weed. Feeling something was off, Senkuu rushed toward them, securing the muffins in his basket.

“What? Did something happen to my fiancé?” Senkuu asked.

“No,” Suika replied. The girl shifted from her slime form back into her human body. “He’s recovered. Even though he’s still in a wheelchair, Gen can leave his bed now.”

Senkuu sighed in relief. It felt good to know that his fiancé, who had been bedridden for nearly a week, was finally able to get up and move. Unfortunately, that relief lasted only three seconds before it was replaced by dread.

“Unfortunately, that means Gen’s visit is being cut short,” Chrome said. Though his breath was ragged, his voice was clear. “Right now, Gen and his parents are on their way home.”

“What?! I thought they were supposed to leave the day after tomorrow?” Senkuu exclaimed in disbelief. According to his calculations, since Gen regained consciousness three days ago, they would’ve waited until he could stand without wobbling before embarking on the long journey back through the valley. Back to the Wingfield noble’s wyvern castle.

But as always, luck and reality took great pleasure in drop-kicking his logic into an endless abyss.

His jaw clenched. His breath caught. His brain, which usually spun like a calculating machine, ground to a halt—creaking like rusted gears. His fingers curled into fists, trying to hold down the heaviness in his chest. A creeping disappointment clawed up his throat like black smoke from a failed experiment.

Frustration.

“They’re leaving now?”

“Without even saying a formal farewell to the host?”

His fingers rubbed his stinging eyes. His lips twisted into a self-mocking grin. “Well, of course. A formal farewell? What the hell was I expecting after injuring their Little Elf?”

This quiet departure was more than polite, considering the Elf and Old Wyvern could’ve left the manor with its roof and walls blown into the sky. Honestly, Senkuu wouldn’t have minded coming home to find his estate reduced to rubble.

His breath hitched. His heart sank like a stray dog kicked into a ditch on a rainy day.

“At the very least... I wanted to apologize properly.”

“To give him the illusion that he truly held one sky in his hands.”

“This is bad! This is very, VERY bad!!” Chrome’s panicked shout yanked Senkuu out of his self-loathing, masochistic spiral. Despite the panic in his voice, the young vampire’s eyes blazed with determination.

“Senkuu! I don’t know if we can do it or not. But we have to deliver this baby blue flower pot even if it kills us. Right?!”

“Yes!” Suika chimed in breathlessly, her round watermelon helmet wobbling and slipping off her head. “It’ll be a keepsake—a symbol of our promise! A promise that we’ll give him the sky!”

The fire in Chrome and Suika’s eyes reignited the dying flame in Senkuu’s heart. His self-mocking smirk twisted into the manic grin of a mad scientist, proud of a theory that might just rewrite the laws of the world. And then came that spine-chilling laugh that made listeners feel their backs go cold.

Without dropping the mad grin, he raised a hand. His fingers—index and middle—rose and touched together in front of his face. His crimson eyes narrowed, the lines of frustration on his forehead fading into a look of terrifying focus.

The signature pose of a mad scientist calculating a thousand figures at once in his head.

One long inhale.

Then, as his eyes closed, the manic grin melted into one of confident madness.

“We’re racing against time. And skinny legs aren’t fast enough. A horse, maybe.”

His ruby-red eyes, gleaming like blood-stained garnets, turned toward the shadow that had been standing behind them all along. Leaning casually on the horse-drawn carriage, seemingly uninterested but observing keenly.

He said nothing, didn’t interrupt—but watched them with sharp eyes and a sly smile. Like a sea dragon spy who’d already won the auction before the gavel even dropped.

A professional extortionist disguised as a philanthropist. Nanami Ryuusui.

“You heard everything, didn’t you?” Senkuu asked, voice flat but full of weight.

Ryuusui grinned, arms crossed, silver-chained boots jingling offbeat. “Of course. I’ve got ears that can hear a coin drop from two miles away. And a lover’s unfulfilled promise? Haha, much louder than a whole sack of coins.”

Senkuu picked at his ear with a pinky and rolled his eyes. “Kukuku, extortionist disguised as a saint. Let’s cut to the chase. Can you catch up to my fiancé’s carriage before they pass the fog-border valley?”

“Ha ha, noble disguised as a commoner,” Ryuusui raised a brow, his golden eyes narrowing in amusement. “You doubt my ability? Of course I can. I’m the only one who can.”

“Yeah, yeah, I believe you. So what’s your price, Mr. Greedy?” Senkuu stepped toward the carriage, ready to hop in and chase after his fleeing fiancé. “A sack full of Solus coins won’t satisfy your ravenous stomach. A few rare mana stones, maybe—”

“Ha ha ha.”

Ryuusui’s booming laugh cut off Senkuu’s business pitch. It sounded like stormy waves ready to sink ships. His eyes gleamed like a sea dragon tearing through hulls, hungry for treasure hidden in a pirate’s chest.

“You don’t really think a sack of shiny metal and glittering minerals is enough to pay for my services, do you?”

That shark-toothed grin dared him—as if Senkuu’s offer hadn’t even scratched the surface.

“Tch,” Senkuu clicked his tongue

If someone were to ask, “Who is the worst and most cunning person Senkuu knows?”.

He would answer : “Gen Snyder-Wingfield.”

But if that person were to ask, “Who is the most fitting rival for that worst and most cunning person?”.

Then Senkuu would reluctantly say : “The second worst person I know, the Greedy Sea Dragon, Nanami Ryuusui.”

“Whether it’s a Wyvern or a Sea Dragon, they’re both slippery snakes that coil around your legs,” he thought, irritated.

The Sea Snake grinned, wearing the classic smile of an opportunist who had caught the scent of profit from a small investment.
“My captain’s intuition is screaming: Ishigami Senkuu is working on something... a project that could rewrite the rules of the world. And of magic.”

Silence.

Golden eyes gleamed, meeting blood-stained red ones. The air between them nearly hissed from the invisible tension.

“A merchant would never miss out on an investment this big,” Ryuusui continued. “And a bottle of sky-perfume for your lover? Ah, I can already smell the prestige from here.”

Huh.

Senkuu exhaled a long breath. Lost—or conceded.
Allowing Ryuusui to join wasn’t necessarily a bad idea. Senkuu had a Greedy Dragon willing to fund his research project that would surely suffer many failures.

It just felt like selling your soul to the gatekeeper demon just to meet the devil of hell.

What kind of metaphor was that? Masochism?

Without saying a word, Senkuu boarded the carriage, his face clearly displaying his displeasure.

Meanwhile, Ryuusui laughed with satisfaction like a dragon who had just emptied an entire cargo hold of spice chests.
“Excellent! Now, let’s deliver that flower and muffin to the Angel-Devil Elf before today’s sky runs out!”

Chrome and Suika cheered, quickly hopping into the carriage and taking their places in front of Senkuu.
Their eyes sparkled with renewed hope, each clutching a pot of baby blue flowers and a basket of warm muffins in their vampire and slime hands.

“New hope, huh.”

And just like that, the wheels of the carriage turned, like fate itself beginning to spin.
Fueled by a promise spoken aloud and an oath shared in their souls.
Even if Senkuu had to sell his soul to the devil.

.

.

“Hah! So that’s how Nanami Ryuusui ended up joining our project?” Kohaku asked. Her eyes narrowed, staring at Ryuusui as if looking at a sea serpent washed up on a tree branch. The Sea Dragon was controlling the wyvern wings made of thin leather—what had become the prototype of their first flying machine: the Senkuu-vern X Paraglider.

Which landed gracefully among the trees with a loud “Thud!”

Senkuu tore the parchment filled with a series of failed formulas and tossed it into the flames, letting the heat consume the symbol of their failure. His eyes, darkened from lack of sleep, stared on without emotion.

“Yeah, that’s about right. At the very least, we’ve got a sponsor now—one who’s invested his entire mountain of gold in us. He even volunteered to take your place in testing that prototype.”

When he spoke again, the exhaustion in his eyes was no match for the terrifying laugh of his mad scientist mode. “Since he went through all that trouble to join us, we’ll squeeze every last coin out of him. Kukuku.”

Kohaku stepped three paces away from him, eyeing Senkuu as if he were a deranged scientist turned villain after being heartbroken and abandoned by his fiancé. She crossed her arms tightly, trying to hide the chill running down her spine.

“Hah, you’re just as much a devil as your fiancé, Senkuu,” Kohaku remarked. “I guess you two really are a perfect match.”

Kohaku didn’t wait for Senkuu to respond. Her strong legs dashed like lightning toward Ryuusui, who was stuck in a tree branch after jumping off the tower roof. The Sea Dragon had managed to glide in the air for 444 seconds before ending up hanging upside down from a branch—with his pants missing.

“It’s so weird he lost his pants but not his hat,” Suika muttered in wonder.

Senkuu didn’t reply. His eyes stared at the sky far beyond his reach. Kohaku’s words—“that he and his fiancé were truly a perfect match”—still echoed in his ears like a worm burrowing through.

As his eyes wandered, so did his thoughts—to their temporary farewell.

Three days ago.

The gothic-victorian styled carriage—blinding to the eyes—was about to cross the mist boundary leading into the valley of Mount Aetherflame. A mountain feared and revered by all races due to its mana density that could kill an ordinary human in a single breath. The mountain was both alluring and deadly. So it was downright outrageous that a castle belonging to just one family—just one!—could live safely inside it without mana poisoning.

That’s what Senkuu thought when he first learned about Gen.
If only he had known back then that Gen lived there because he needed a stable mana intake for his frail body. Surely, Senkuu would have respected them instead of sneering behind their backs.

“This is really baaad!” Chrome shouted, both fists clenched tightly around the telescope, his jaw set so hard his voice trembled with fury. “If the Wingfield noble carriage crosses that mist boundary, we won’t be able to catch up.”

“Ah,” replied Senkuu, his voice low, brows furrowed with worry. “If we break through, we’ll die of mana poisoning.”

“Does that... does that mean this baby blue flower won’t reach Gen’s hands?” a soft voice whispered from in front of him. The sadness and tears were clear, even though the slime was wearing a hood.

Amidst the distress, the ship captain—now turned carriage driver—laughed with resolve. The four black horses were pushed to their limits. The wheels thundered, churning the moist earth along the rocky road.

“Ha ha, it’s too early to give up.”
Ryuusui shifted the reins with one hand, while the other pulled out something resembling a black rod or a long barrel from beneath his thick coat. A sleek weapon shaped like a long barrel, adorned with brass and a polished trigger glinting under the twilight. A weapon not unlike the flamethrower owned by Kaseki and Stanley.

“Oy, don’t tell me you’re going to shoot them?” Senkuu interjected, horrified at the thought of Ryuusui firing a weapon at a sniper who could see from the back of his head. “Stanley’ll blow a hole in our skulls if you do that, Sea Snake.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Ryuusui denied, his cocky grin never fading. “This is Nanami the merchant’s biggest investment this year.”

The merchant’s calloused fingers deftly loaded small rolls of powder and colorful paper into the barrel, slid them into the launcher, and aimed the muzzle at the sky. When Senkuu realized what those little rolls of powder were, he grinned—half annoyed, half impressed.

“Kukuku, damn merchant,” Senkuu scratched his non-itchy ear with a pinky finger, taunting, “No wonder you’ve been ordering so many fireworks from Kaseki this past year. And you never hosted any celebration. So this is what you’ve been up to, you Greedy King.”

Chrome and Suika leaned forward, their heads tilted up to get a better look at what Ryuusui was holding in his right hand. With eyes full of wonder toward the pursuit of the knowledge, Suika asked, “A flamethrower? Isn’t that the same thing Grandpa Kaseki made before?”

Ryuusui placed his index finger on the trigger, his eyes locked sharply onto the twilight sky that was slowly darkening. The hairs on his arms stood as he felt the direction of the wind.
“By combining Kaseki’s flamethrower with Senkuu’s fireworks, I asked my trusted technician Joel to assemble a custom version to my liking. My wish is for everyone to be able to use flamethrower, without needing them as tools for killing.”

Then, like a dragon roaring his resolve to the sky, Ryuusui declared with solemnity nearing a vow, “Desire... is equal to... justice! I call it: Ryuusui Starflare Type 1.”

The trigger was pulled, leaving dust and smoke trailing over his grinning face. The smoke rose like a dragon, reaching toward the twilight sky consumed by darkness.

‘BOOM!’

Four seconds later, when the trail of smoke stopped at the maximum height of 80 meters, silence was shattered by the echoing blast. The twilight sky was torn open by an eruption of red and gold light bursting in the air. A 15-meter diameter firework rained down like falling stars.

The Wingfield family carriage stopped instantly. Their white horses neighed in panic, hooves kicking at the rocky ground, startled by the loud and unusual blast. Meanwhile, Senkuu’s carriage kept pushing forward along the rocky path, undeterred by the rattling wheels that rumbled like a beating drum.

The door to the Wingfield carriage slammed open. Two figures backlit by orange light appeared in the doorway. One was Ukyo, the Wind Spirit with his massive bow and arrow aimed at them. The other was the Battle Elf, Stanley Snyder, resting a flamethrower on his shoulder—his posture relaxed, unthreatening, yet his eyes hunted like a hawk.

‘BOOM!’

Seven seconds passed, and the second firework shot skyward again, bursting with green and white sparks. Senkuu’s carriage drew closer, narrowing the gap by 15 meters. Even so, the two guards didn’t lower their weapons. The Wind Spirit remained alert, and the Battle Elf watched their carriage with sharp eyes.

‘BOOM!’

The third explosion followed six seconds later, at a lower height of 60 meters. Yet orange and silver light burst slowly like autumn leaves awaiting next season’s return. When Chrome stuck his head out and raised the Ishigami family banner fluttering in the evening wind, Ukyo and Stanley lowered their weapons—though not their guard.

‘BOOM!’

The fourth burst lit the night sky that had now overtaken twilight. The firework scattered like purple flower petals suspended among gray clouds. Like wisteria longing for the sky. Through the nocturnal vision of his vampire race, Senkuu saw Stanley spit his cigar to the ground and stomp it furiously. As if imagining that cigar as Senkuu himself crushed under his boots.

After destroying the innocent cigar to his satisfaction, Stanley turned to the carriage interior, looked at the figure waiting inside, and nodded. His muscular hand reached out, slowly drawing out the pale, fragile little elf from his arms. The little elf’s eyes widened in awe as he stared at the sky.

“There he is... my devious, adorable fiancé,” he murmured. The scientist’s smile bloomed more sincerely—as if the tension that unconsciously bound his face like wire had suddenly loosened.

‘DOOM!’

Then three seconds later, the fifth and final firework launched. Sparks burst into blue and pink blossoms, forming a spiral of light like the illusion spell petals Gen often conjured.

Senkuu’s carriage was now just three meters away from his fiancé’s. The wheels stopped, and their horses exhaled in exhaustion.

Everything fell silent.

Senkuu jumped down from his horse carriage. His breath ragged, chest trembling with a mountain of emotions that couldn’t be explained by science, his hands shaking even though his body temperature hadn’t risen like someone with a fever.

Blood-red eyes like rubies soaked in gore met sky-blue ones like moonstone—soft and mysterious. Like a piece of spring sky trapped inside a perfectly polished mineral layer. Clear, radiant, and smooth. The blue light didn’t burn, but soothed like warm skies calming the storm in one’s heart.

In the sunlight, that iris reflected a spectrum from sapphire to aquamarine, with a refraction of light like a quartz lens capturing eternity. Even Senkuu, the scientist who worshipped logic and rationality, could never look away from calculating the color spectrum of those eyes in nanometers.

All this time, it had only been his pathetic ego that blinded him from seeing that beauty. Perhaps his eyes had seen it—but his ego refused to admit it. And he regretted that.

“Those eyes no longer shine.”

Now, under the moonlight and the heavy breath of night, those eyes dulled like a gray snowstorm. Instead of gleaming like topaz bathed in light, his fiancé’s eyes were like dull beryl locked away too long in a glass case. The light that used to shine in his gaze—drawing moths into its brilliance—had dimmed like stars in the sky losing their strength and life.

A star that dimmed and died, leaving behind a black hole forgotten by the world.

Even so, that tiny piece of life still caged a slice of sky inside his beautiful gemstone eyes. A hope. And Senkuu was a scientist who never missed an opportunity.

He chased after that hope the same way Ishigami Senkuu chased after the pursuit of the knowledge.

His steps were firm like his resolve. His fists clenched to calm his ragged breath. Senkuu ignored Stanley’s piercing glare, ready to point a barrel to his head. He also ignored the old wyvern flaring its wings inside the carriage, ready to strike at any moment. His eyes focused on just one person—his fiancé: Gen.

He stepped forward slowly. One... two... three...

And stood before them.

Their eyes locked as if exchanging words in silence. A whole minute passed before one of them finally broke that awkward, peaceful silence.

“So, what do you think?” asked Senkuu.

“?!” Gen tilted his head, his white mane shimmering under the moonlight, eyes blinking twice before murmuring, “Pardon?”

“A kiddie science project: Fireworks,” Senkuu grinned smugly as if he had solved the hardest research puzzle in 3700 years. “To slap you, I asked Kaseki to tweak the fireworks so they could be loaded into a flamethrower. That way, the ignition process would be easier and it’d look way cooler than bamboo tubes.”

The half-elf’s lips pursed in deep thought. Then, his pupils widened as if recalling something. “Are you kidding me?”

The same words came from a different mouth—the greedy sea dragon who couldn’t stand someone stealing credit for his invention. “Hey! Are you kidding me?! Joel’s the one who made that tool!”

Senkuu dug his ear with his pinky, replying indifferently, “Yeah, but the fireworks were my idea. I have the copyright. You should be paying me some kind of ‘royalty’.”

His fiancé watched their bickering, smiling in amusement. His laughter rang out melodiously, just like Senkuu remembered—bursting like bubbles in carbonated water.

“You’re such a terrible liar, Senkuu-chan.”

The tension in his shoulders relaxed upon hearing his fiancé’s familiar antics. Feeling a little more at ease, Senkuu took one step forward and handed him the basket of muffins.

On the other side, Gen stared wide-eyed at the muffin basket. Then looked at Senkuu as if seeing the dumbest scientist in the world.

“You went through all that trouble just to deliver these muffins?” Gen exclaimed in disbelief.

Senkuu shrugged, replying halfheartedly, “Well, you said you wanted them,”—ignoring the amused laughter from the Wind Spirit—he continued, “Still, that Ryuusui shop is basically public extortion. Ten lunaris coins for one muffin. And the service is slow as hell. It took me over half a day to get them.”

“Wait, so that’s why you left before sunrise?” Gen blinked, stunned by the scientist’s seriousness and absurdity. Then, with an unimpressed look, Gen muttered, “You didn’t know they sell and hand out VIP queue numbers so ‘wealthy buyers like us’ don’t have to wait?”

Like a revelation crashing through a wall of research, Senkuu facepalmed hard. His brilliant, dumb genius brain had just realized that a major merchant like Nanami Ryuusui would obviously have such a service.

“No wonder that damn Sea Snake mocked me as ‘a noble disguised as a commoner’. Tch, damn it.”

Watching Senkuu frustrated by his own ignorance, Gen laughed again—this time even more sincerely. His laughter was soothing and relieving, as if he hadn’t just woken from a long slumber while still cradled in his father’s arms.

“You really are a brilliant idiot, Senkuu-chan.”

Senkuu scratched his face, replying in resignation, “Well, at least it was worth it.”

As the silence between them became comfortably quiet again, Senkuu continued,
“I kept my promise—about showing you my first experimental project: Fireworks.”

Gen, as if reminded of an unpleasant memory, ran his fingers through his silvery-white mane and bit his lip nervously.
“Ah, yes, yes, something like that.”
Then, in a low voice without looking at Senkuu, he answered sincerely,
“That... that was really beautiful. Pardon me for calling your research a kiddie science project.”

Senkuu, who had already made peace with the past, ignored the flustered reaction. Instead, he felt amused seeing his fiancé act so shy—like a timid kitten.

The scientist continued,
“I still have two more promises to fulfill for you. For now, this is the only thing I can give you.”

“Hmn, what is it?” asked Gen.
His head, previously bowed, tilted up, allowing Senkuu to clearly see the bandage covering the left side of his fiancé’s cheek.

Senkuu locked eyes with Stanley, as if asking for his approval—knowing full well the Battle Elf understood what Senkuu meant. After receiving a disgruntled huff and a nod from the elf, Senkuu waved his hand—signaling Suika to come closer. The slime girl carried a basket neatly wrapped in black cloth.

Ukyo took the muffin basket from Gen’s full hands so the half-elf could receive Senkuu’s other gift. The half-elf accepted it with a curious gaze. Like a cat given a new toy—something he had never seen nor imagined. When the half-elf pulled away the cloth covering the basket, a slice of spring sky once more shimmered in the gemstone dulled by sorrow.

“This is...”
The half-elf’s voice trembled, just like his hand, as it brushed the soft and fragile blue petals.

“They were just born this morning,” Senkuu explained.
“After my 128th experiment, I finally discovered a formula and biological structure that matched about 80% with the Blue Moon-Weed.”

Senkuu took out a dried petal from his pocket and continued,
“I managed to cultivate seven flower pots. Unfortunately, my science alone still isn’t enough to keep them alive. This is pot number seven—the only one that survived because Chrome asked Ruri to use her magic—whatever it was, I assume you know better.”

At the end of his sentence, a small smile bloomed across his face.
Senkuu gazed at the half-elf before him with the same look he reserved for science he respected, honored, and cherished. He concluded,

“In other words, science alone is not enough. This baby needs your magic to keep being born and to grow.”

His fiancé never once looked away from the blue flower pot in his arms. His eyes were enchanted by the glowing blue petals that shimmered in the darkness—casting a spectrum of blue light into his dull eyes.
His lips parted, trembling slightly as his breath hitched.
So truly mesmerized, the half-elf-wyvern—known to be sly, manipulative, and sharp-tongued—was left completely speechless.

Not wanting the swelling pride in his heart to explode, Senkuu spoke again,

“Unfortunately, I still haven't given up on science. I’ll keep experimenting until I reach a 100% similarity with the original Blue Moon-Weed.”

With a proud smirk, Senkuu teased,
“So, you better come back here if you truly want to see it, my Dumb Little Elf.”

Gen blinked, looking at him like a child promised a gift.
“To see it...?”

“Yeah.” Senkuu’s promise.

“To have a thousand skies beneath your feet.”

At that moment, Senkuu thought—if vampires could die under sunlight, then surely he would have died under that smile, brighter than any constellation in the night sky.

.

.

­­­­

Chapter Text

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Chapter 14: A Offering of Failures That Burn My Pride. Always, For You, My Fiance.

.

The evening wind swept across the green plain beneath the experimental tower, where a wooden runway stretched into the sky, carving the first path for mankind to conquer the heights. Those wide black wings unfurled like the shadow of night, fastened tightly to a great wooden frame that resembled the fossil of a giant bird brought back to life. Sharp arcs mirrored the bones of a bat’s skeleton, each wooden joint bound by a thin cloth that shimmered darkly. From afar, one might mistake it for an ancient monster nailed to a human’s body. But for Senkuu, it was his second experimental project to fulfill his fiancé’s dream.

Senkuu ran his hand along the frame of the wings, brushing each joint crafted by Kaseki with the tips of his nails. As though introducing his own child.

“So, this is my second death?” asked Ryuusui. The Sea Serpent grinned sharply, and though his words invited death, his bold tone dared death itself to come. His hat fluttered in the wind, yet it did nothing to shake his loudness and arrogance. Nor his greed.

Senkuu shot him a cynical glance, explaining in a theoretical tone, “Glider Senkuu-Bat X. A wooden frame with jointed hinges, covered by a thin membrane of deerskin parchment—strong and malleable. I copied this design from the structure of bat wings, with elongated finger bones supporting the thin membrane. In theory, it should be enough to produce lift with the right wind speed.”

Ryuusui snapped his fingers, the sound echoing in the air. “Haha! And with my wind-reading ability, we’ll soar even longer than last time.”

Kohaku stared at them with her mouth half-open. While picking her nose, she eyed their project with skepticism. “You’re sure... this flimsy frame can support a human body and the wind? Unlike shields and spears, if this breaks, it’s my life at stake.”

Senkuu leaned against the launch tower, his green-albino hair swaying in the wind. His face calm, yet his gaze brimmed with calculation. “Yesterday, the Senkuu Vern-X Paraglider crashed because the skin and frame were too heavy. This time, we’re trying new materials for a new design.”

Ryuusui folded his arms, looking down at Senkuu as though the Sea Serpent doubted his judgment. “Haha! So you admit your mistake, genius scientist?”

Remembering yesterday’s quarrel with Ryuusui had already burned Senkuu’s beard—if only he had one. And as though figuratively setting Senkuu’s beard on fire wasn’t enough, now Ryuusui struck sparks from the coals to burn the hair on his head.

“Your theory may be reasonable. But experience stands above all,” Ryuusui lectured for the second time, repeating himself like an annoying parrot. “You tried to make wings fly using the same materials we use for sailing. Sturdy enough to weather storms across the ocean. But for something meant to fly, it’s like building a kite out of iron plates.”

“...Tch,” Senkuu clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes in boredom, though secretly absorbing his words.

“I once swapped a ship’s sail for buffalo hide when sailing north. At first I thought it was brilliant—heat resistant, tough against storm winds. But the result?” Ryuusui patted the wooden frame of the glider. “That ship was slower than a drunk turtle. Needed three times the wind and twice as many complaints from the crew.”

“Yeah-yeah-yeah. Thanks for the lecture, Mr. Sea Serpent. Can you just get on and test this thing already?” Senkuu cut him off. He’d been burned enough, thank you very much.

Seeing the Sea Serpent hesitate to board the glider, Senkuu launched his counterattack. His brows furrowed, his grin curled into an open challenge. “What? Is the Sea Serpent afraid of swimming in the sky? If you’re scared, you’d better crawl back into the depths of the ocean.”

Hearing that taunt, Ryuusui’s brows twitched twice, along with the corner of his lips curving into a smirk. Fire flared in his golden eyes, ready to answer the scientist’s challenge.

“Afraid?! Hah! Do you know who you’re talking to! I, the offspring of myth, hybrid of Sea Dragon and Merfolk, will be the first creature of the sea to conquer the sky!” he roared to the heavens. His cry echoed as though he wasn’t cleaving waves, but splitting clouds. With a single swift motion, the Sea Dragon—who, to Senkuu, remained nothing more than a Sea Serpent—snatched the Senkuu-Bat X Glider with his claws and dove straight into the sky that awaited his death.

Behind the zealous Captain was the Scientist, grinning madly. Proud that his trick had managed to fool the greedy merchant without anyone noticing. Well. Except for one—with eyes sharp and keen.

“What?” Senkuu demanded.

“Uh-huh... you really are a perfect match for your fiancé Gen,” Kohaku mocked. The warrior vampire crossed her arms, gazing at him with unimpressed eyes. Before Senkuu could snap back, she grabbed the second glider, mounted it, and with the grace of a fighter, she soared into the vast sky.

Senkuu observed from above, his eyes fixed intently on the glider drifting through the air. Every passing second he counted without fail, every change in trajectory he noted on a parchment scroll, every shudder of the wings buffeted by the wind he calculated into lines of numbers and formulas—lined up like a scientific incantation. An incantation he believed would tame the sky itself, to offer it to his beloved fiancé.

The glider floated a little longer than its predecessor. If the Senkuu-Vern X Paraglider had previously set the record at 444 seconds, then this bat-wing design cut through the autumn winds with a doubled feat. Exactly 602 seconds before it was finally thrown down by the seasonal gusts.

“Haha! The Sky and the Sea are Mine—” Before Ryuusui could finish his declaration of ownership, a sudden gust flipped the glider 180 degrees and sent it crashing into the ground, taking the serpent strapped to its frame with it.

“Or... not...” added Kohaku. Like Ryuusui, the vampire girl was swept by the wind and fell. The difference was that while Ryuusui slammed into the ground and tangled in the bushes, Kohaku ended up caught in the treetops—likely thanks to her sharp fighter’s reflexes.

Senkuu counted each second with a pounding heart, though his face remained flat. By the time the glider crashed and lodged itself between trees and thickets, he had already put away his telescope. He descended the tower with heavy footsteps, as though eager to analyze where the failure had gone wrong.

The impact was anything but graceful. As was the Captain’s landing, sprawled in the shrubs with golden hair in disarray and tail tied up. Yet his smile remained arrogant, as though he carried victory in his purse. “Hahahah! Splendid! You managed to make me swim in the air for ten minutes, Scientist!”

“But...” The Captain stood, grabbed his missing hat, and walked toward him. Dusting off his clothes, Ryuusui cast a scrutinizing eye on the glider stuck in the trees. “... this glider is like a ship without a rudder. Can it float? Yes. Can it be steered? No. The moment a crosswind hits from the side, its body lurches out of control. Changing direction in midair is impossible—unless your goal is to crash into trees and sink.”

“I agree,” shouted Kohaku from atop the tree. The vampire leapt down in one motion, landing with a ring of dust around her feet, the massive glider strapped to her back. “This glider can float, but only straight. If this were a battlefield, it would be nothing but suicide. If arrows came—or the wind shifted—we’d have no maneuver but to become fish bait.”

Senkuu crouched beside the glider, his eyes tracing each broken hinge and torn membrane. “Tch... even switching materials for the wings still isn’t enough.”

Ryuusui stomped his boot, dislodging a twig stuck in its hem. “Giving up?”

Senkuu grinned challengingly. “Not a chance.”

Yet he turned away without another glance at the half-wrecked glider. “But that’s enough for today.” He waved his hand without looking back. “Store the glider with Kaseki. The old craftsman knows what to do. See you tomorrow.”

Kohaku tied her hair back after struggling to shake out the dry leaves and branches stuck in it. She called after Senkuu in confusion. “Already done? Where are you going?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow there’ll be a new design for that thing,” replied Senkuu. Instead of looking back, his eyes turned to the sky already painted with golden hues. “To the greenhouse.”

With that, no further questions were asked. Yet Senkuu could still hear the chatter of his two companions behind him, thanks to his sharp senses.

“Another gift for the Beloved Fiancé,” teased Kohaku.

“Hmn. A man clings to his eternal treasure as much as he does to the one he loves,” replied Ryuusui with his usual arrogance. Then he added his greed, “A flower lost for a thousand years. I want it!”

“You know that’s for Gen, right?” Kohaku scolded skeptically.

The sound of clinking coins followed. “But I can buy it.”

And though Senkuu couldn’t see, he could already tell the vampire girl must have rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Yet, ever since he walked away from that conversation—okay, overheard it, not on purpose—one thing gnawed at him. Like hydrochloric acid quietly corroding metal. Invisible from the outside, yet constantly dissolving his stability. That thing was:

“Me? Loving him? My fiancé, Gen?” he thought in bewilderment.

“Well, Gen is sweet, beautiful, stunning, cunning, challenging, and full of mystery. Like an equation that can’t be solved. Like a scientific formula that can’t be revealed without total calculation....” Senkuu muttered, his hands busy digging soil and planting the seeds of blue flowers in pots. “The point is, he’s very fascinating.”

“But... that doesn’t mean I love him, right?”

No one answered, for Senkuu was alone in the greenhouse. Only his annoying bat remained, faithfully serving as the listener of his heart’s confessions. And, damn it, a terrible listener at that.

“You don’t love him?” asked Bat-bad. The bat perched on his shoulder, wings cloaking its body. “Yet you chased him to death in the Valley of Mist’s Edge that time, just to give him a piece of muffin. Moments before the carriage crossed into Mount Aetherflame.”

“That’s because Gen wanted it,” Senkuu replied, plucking weeds so the blue flowers wouldn’t lose their nutrients. “And Suika wanted to give Gen this flower.”

“You wanted it too.”

“Fine, I wanted it too,” Senkuu rolled his eyes. “Only to keep our promise of experimenting to bring forth the Blue Moon-Weed.”

“Only that?” teased Bat-bad. “If that’s all, you could’ve just given him that one pot. No need to dirty your hands in the garden like this.”

And... well, that was true. So Senkuu didn’t answer.

“I’ve never seen anyone willingly be devoured by the greedy Sea Dragon, Ryuusui, just for his fiancé,” Bat-bad teased again. “And what happened at the Valley of Mist’s Edge? The promise of a thousand skies?”

Senkuu flicked his bat with his sharp nail, starting to get annoyed. “Same as the first reason. We promised an experiment—to build a flying machine with science and magic.”

“But Gen isn’t here,” retorted Bat-bad, now hovering above his head to form a nest in his hair. “And yet you still build that flying machine even when Gen isn’t here. So that when he visits again next year, you can surprise him with your science project, right?”

Senkuu huffed in irritation until he accidentally cracked a flower pot in his hand. Listening to Bat-bad’s words was infuriating. Because it was as if the bat had read feelings he himself hadn’t yet realized.

“A flying machine with science and magic, that’s interesting. I could just...”

Wait. How long have we been talking?

Senkuu stopped mid-sentence. Normally, talking with Bat-bad made him lose his temper much faster. They usually didn’t even exchange three lines before Senkuu threw him into a glass tube to use him as a test bat. But now, the bat had even made a nest in his hair. They... were too clever with words against him.

“You... aren’t the damned Bat-bad, are you?” Senkuu muttered flatly. “Byakuya.”

The bat squeaked as if laughing uproariously—eerily similar to Byakuya’s laugh. And sure enough, as the bat flew away from its nest—Senkuu’s hair—dark mist swirled nearby. From within the mist emerged an old vampire: his father.

Who immediately got a flower pot thrown at him!

“Ouch! How cruel of you. I’m your father, science boy!” Byakuya groaned, rubbing the swelling lump on his forehead.

“You deserved it, Old Man,” Senkuu hissed, returning to his work without sparing his father a glance.

Watching his son, Byakuya only sighed with affection. He stepped forward, crouching beside Senkuu, speaking in a melancholy tone. “What’s wrong with it? A parent curious about his child’s love life.”

Senkuu gave no reply, only a dismissive huff.

“No matter how much you deny it,” Byakuya advised, in the manner of a wise father, “to my eyes, you look like a young man struck by love.”

“Like you once were?” Senkuu sneered.

“Like I once was,” Byakuya admitted.

Senkuu, once again, said nothing—but there was no annoyed huff this time, only a silent sulk. Satisfied with stirring his son’s emotions, who was “clueless about matters of the heart,” Byakuya gently patted Senkuu’s head.

“It’s only... guilt, I suppose,” Senkuu denied after ten minutes of silence.

“Want to make a bet?” challenged his father.

“That I’ll fall in love with Gen?” Senkuu raised a brow.

“You lose, and you’ll teach in my place until my retirement ends,” Byakuya bargained.

“I win, and I’ll travel across the continents with my science,” Senkuu countered.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

And so, Byakuya left with the firm steps of his boots echoing behind him. Meanwhile, Senkuu, still busy tending flowers and pulling weeds, didn’t notice that his father had already secured his victory within the folds of his bat’s cloak.

Senkuu snorted in amusement. “Falling in love with Gen, huh.”

“Wait... am I falling in love with him?”

.

.

“Heh, heh, look at how much of a genius I am! It feels so satisfying!” Chrome shouted proudly at himself, arms crossed before his chest, nose stretching in arrogance, even puffing out steam, his head swelling like a deer’s belly inflated with helium.

“Your face looks so smug,” Kohaku glanced at him in amusement. The girl patted Chrome’s shoulder with the pride of an older sister—even though they weren’t siblings. Not yet. Just wait until Chrome married Ruri.

Chrome stood with his hands on his hips, his voice brimming with fervor as he recounted his moment of enlightenment. “It’s all thanks to Ryuusui’s scrolls of encyclopedias about birds. I observed how birds and bats fly, then compared it with our glider. And look at this! The Senkuu-Bat X Plus Glider. Just by adding a tail—just a tail—this glider can be controlled in the sky!”

“Ha! If I praise you too much, your head will explode, won’t it?” Kohaku added. Her sharp eyes looked at their glider, which, at last, could soar freely in the sky without crashing even when struck by the wind.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t just my personal satisfaction,” said Chrome. Though joy bubbled in his chest like steam, humility still tempered his fiery spirit. “I didn’t expect it to succeed. But after experimenting, and BAM! SUCCESS!”

“Science is truly—truly...” Chrome slapped his own cheeks, unable to hold back the grin stretching across his face. “Science is truly so much fun!”

Everyone around them—Kaseki, Suika, Kohaku, even Francois who had taken a break from baking muffins in the kitchen—smiled with pride at their hard work. The first flying machine to conquer the sky. Everyone. Everyone... except one.

Ishigami Senkuu.

Those crimson eyes, glowing like rubies soaked in blood, narrowed at the glider soaring above. Maneuvering swiftly among clouds and winds, as if all the obstacles he once scribbled on paper had vanished into nothingness. They should be proud. He should be proud. But he was not.

Something was still missing.

This didn’t feel right for Gen.

Not good enough for Gen.

“Master Senkuu,” Francois called, standing beside him like a capable attendant. “Is there a problem?”

The interruption drew the others’ attention, and now they too noticed the oddness in Senkuu’s expression. Normally, Senkuu would never lose his smirk upon seeing one of his experiments succeed. The vampire scientist wouldn’t go overboard celebrating his victories—but that irresistible grin and his slow gestures as if savoring life’s rhythm were enough to reveal his true joy.

But now, none of that was there.

“Senkuu, aren’t you happy with our achievement?” Suika asked. The slime returned to her human form, staring at Senkuu with a melon helmet on her head.

Senkuu kept his eyes on the sky, reluctant to answer. But with the non-verbal pressure of his friends, he finally admitted, “No.”

“Ohoho, why? We all worked hard to make that pretty baby,” Kaseki asked in confusion. The old dwarf stroked his long beard, eyes scrutinizing his creation—was something missing? That was the question reflected in his gaze.

“That thing doesn’t fly,” Senkuu finally explained.

“What do you mean?” they asked in puzzlement.

“It only floats. Not flies. Only floats.”

“Isn’t that good enough?” Chrome asked, bewildered. “It’s quite an achievement.”

“If all he needed was to float, he would’ve done it long ago,” Senkuu refuted. The vampire pulled out his notes in frustration, slashing an X across the page and tossing the design onto the heap of failed blueprints.

“We’ll make another one. A machine that can truly take him to the sky.” He turned, leaving the open field, returning to his laboratory to bury himself in work once more.

His friends remained silent in place, unable to understand what the scientist meant. They watched his back grow smaller and smaller until he disappeared from their sight.

“Was the machine bad?” Chrome asked, slightly disappointed, but not sad.

Francois, one of the few who could read between the lines, finally explained. “Master Senkuu wishes to make a flying machine for Master Gen. A machine that can take him up into the sky, away from the ground that stole his freedom. Not a machine that merely floats for a while, reminding him of how Master Gen once fell, just like his past.”

“So that’s it!” Chrome and Suika exclaimed in unison, even Kohaku pricked her ears at Francois’ words.

“Ohoho, truly the springtime of youth. How beautiful,” praised Kaseki with all his wisdom.

.

.

Senkuu kicked the bucket nearby in frustration, spilling its water and drenching the blue flowers he had painstakingly planted, then moved into the shrine filled with magic he did not understand. Droplets slid from the petals, sinking them into the mud below. Even so, Senkuu had no time to care for those blue flowers. His mind was consumed entirely with how to create a flying machine that could carry Gen away from the ground and grant him freedom.

All failures. The Paraglider, the Glider—yes, they could drift in the sky, but only for a short while. It felt like granting Gen temporary freedom before chaining him back to the earth. Even the last two machines were useless. Let alone facing the designs and machines they had built, Senkuu couldn’t even bring himself to step into his laboratory again. For that reason, with all his cowardice, he fled here. Ishigami Lake.

“Senkuu-Ornitho X. A device not much different from the glider. Its design resembles bat wings and a bird’s tail, making it easier to glide in the air and maneuver swiftly.” Senkuu muttered. Those crimson, bloodstained eyes scrutinized every word he had written in the notebook he always carried.

“The modification lies in the wings. Made so that the user could flap them to generate lift and thrust like an actual bird.” His brows knitted into tangled threads. But when he reached the final sentence, he began to curse.

“Unfortunately, human strength is not enough to produce the necessary lift and thrust. Unless the user is Miss Griffin-Wild-Female-Gorilla with insane power... and even then, only for a few meters in the air.”

“Tch!” Senkuu cursed, kicking the nearby jug until it shattered. He ignored the shards crushing the blue flowers before him. “All of this is regression. Regression!”

Senkuu flipped the notebook harshly and switched to another record. Gossamer Senkuu–Seaveil X was written in large letters on its cover. As before, he treated the notebook with disdain and cursed its contents.

“A plane resembling the Albatross might be the closest to an ideal flying machine. The problem lies in the power to launch it. Unlike the Ornithopter, this one uses pedaling to drive two-bladed propellers. The lift generated is greater, and the energy required for pedaling is less.”

“This is the most ideal.” Senkuu snorted, then mocked himself with his entire being. Even his laughter and smile twisted bitterly. “Yes, ideal. If Gen had legs that worked properly, then yes, it’s ideal.”

And what had been revealed just yesterday? That his fiancé was half-crippled and could barely walk without the cane adorned with rare gemstones between his slender fingers. How could someone who could hardly stand bear the strain of pedaling hell itself? Genius?! That was sarcasm too humble for him.

“Congratulations, Ishigami Senkuu. You’re the genius who can make artificial blood for breakfast. But you failed to see the root problem: ‘Gen’s crippled legs.’ Congratulations, you stupid genius.” He spat.

Once, Senkuu would’ve been the first to throw sarcasm at pretentious geniuses, arrogant inventors, and brash youths who defied their professors. But now, Senkuu had made the stupidest mistake, one even a lumberjack would know. His science could shatter the barrier between earth and sky, but his genius failed to account for a lame leg. Marvelous!

Senkuu kicked a third jug, flooding a patch of blue flowers in Ruri’s shrine yard. Like a deluge that wiped out tiny lives. And Senkuu? Too consumed to care. His thoughts drained dry. Like slamming against a wall that grew taller the more he climbed. A stubborn wall refusing to be passed, scaled, broken, or even circled around.

“Tch—this is hopeless.” Senkuu hissed.

“Hihihi.”

A melodious laugh floated gently, as if a goddess had descended from heaven. If in the Tales of One Hundred Stories the goddess came to aid the troubled with her magic, then this goddess came instead to laugh at his misery.

“What’s so funny?” Senkuu snarled at Ruri, who had just arrived from the shrine. The girl still wore her priestess garb, her golden hair gleaming against her red-and-white robes.

“Nothing,” Ruri deflected. “It’s just unusual to see you so frustrated.”

When Ruri approached, Senkuu thought he’d receive her benevolent smile. Instead, he got a kick to the shin.

“Hey!” Senkuu grimaced in pain, startled by how strong her kick was.

Meanwhile, Ruri ignored him and chose instead to show her compassion to the blue flowers. Her white fingers—no longer pale as before—gently caressed the wilted blue petals. Her magic revived them like flowers in war rediscovering the light. Standing tall even though their roots had just been crushed by the one who had planted them. The blue flowers seemed to gaze at Senkuu, mocking and scolding him for drowning them in water and mud. Yet still, they bent their petals toward him.

Silence.

Ruri busied herself giving mercy to the flowers, while Senkuu busied himself cursing his foolish genius. Neither of them spoke. At least not yet. Until 564 seconds later, it was Ruri who broke the silence.

“You shouldn’t be here.” She said.

Senkuu answered without looking at her, “Then where? In the laboratory where my flying machines mock me?”

Ruri gazed at him from the side, her lapis lazuli eyes tracing his profile wrapped in frustration. “You’re in despair.”

“I am,” said Senkuu.

Those lapis lazuli eyes blinked, radiating the sparkle of someone healthy. Since her recovery—thanks to Gen’s generosity in sharing the rare Solruby gem that sustained his own life... huh, maybe Gen was stupid too—Ruri had returned to the aura of the priestess she once was. An unshaken figure cloaked in serenity, forged in wisdom, refined in virtue. A jewel that taught how hearts could show compassion.

And now, she extended her empathy to Senkuu.

“That’s already good,” praised the priestess. “You who are determined to give Gen a thousand skies. That determination is good.”

“But determination is useless if not realized in reality,” Senkuu snapped, his crimson eyes flooded with blood and fury. “Desire is the root variable of human wisdom. And desire unrealized is nothing but cowardice.”

“But you’ve already tried,” Ruri interjected, her voice flowing low like a whispering breeze. “Step by step, you’ve tried to make that desire real—”

“And I failed,” he cut her off. Not caring to hear her finish. “Science manifests desire in the form of tangible proof: success. Not sweet words or encouragement that give nothing but hollow satisfaction.”

“Pfft.” Ruri chuckled. If Senkuu weren’t blinded by emotion, he might’ve been insulted.

“Success? Failure?” Ruri narrowed her eyes, her usually serene face suddenly bearing the cunning of a venomous serpent. No—of a venomous wyvern-elf. “Aren’t you the one who always says that science is trial and error? And failure is...”

“The beginning of success...” Senkuu muttered, finishing the line he always gave Chrome and Suika when teaching science. His heart softened a little, before hardening again. “...A magnificent success... if only I weren’t smashing against a wall.”

Silence for a moment, as if Ruri were trying to understand his mind and find words to soothe the vampire’s nerves. After a full minute, the priestess finally spoke. “Can’t be broken through?”

“No.” He said firmly.

“Can’t be dug through? Or climbed? Or blasted with your bombs?” Ruri pressed.

And to each, he answered firmly, “No. No. And no.”

“A detour?” she tried once more.

“NO!”

Senkuu exploded. He nearly barked at Ruri. Perhaps he would apologize later, but not now. Now, Senkuu only wanted to wallow and curse himself.

“That wall stretches endlessly! Growing higher and higher, as if forcing me to stop!—”

“Then maybe you should stop.” Ruri cut in. Her voice was firm, almost commanding, even sharper than Senkuu’s outburst. It left the scientist stunned in shock.

“What?”

Ruri gazed at him. Gazed into those desperate, lost crimson eyes with her own blue—darker than his fiancé’s. Giving him not only reflection, but also a reminder for self-awareness.

When she felt that the scientist was finally using reason and listening to her, Ruri let out a long sigh. As though she had been waiting for sanity to return to Senkuu for a long time.

“Perhaps, from the start you’ve taken the wrong path. And that wall is there to remind you of what the true purpose was.”

“What was wrong?” Senkuu asked. “I’ve always pivoted around my goal. To give my fiancé, Gen, a thousand skies. To return to him the sky that was stolen. To free him from the ground that imprisons him.”

“Senkuu,” Ruri rose from her crouch, standing before him with her hand extended as if offering revelation, “Is that truly what Gen desires?”

“If not, then what else?!” Senkuu barked, clutching his tangled, sweaty hair. “He lost his wings! He nearly died trying to create a device that functioned as a converter—turning magic energy into aerodynamic lift. A synchronization system for flight magic and mechanics, developed by his frail, unstable body! He always said he wanted to feel a thousand skies beneath his feet! He longed for the sky! He wanted... he wanted his memories in the sky to return to him.”

With each word, Senkuu felt increasingly powerless. Faced with an endless wall standing in the way of fulfilling his fiancé’s wish. Meanwhile Ruri, untouched, unwavering, remained steadfast in her heart.

“You’re right. Memories.” Ruri agreed, her gaze never leaving him. “Perhaps Gen’s wish is simpler than you imagine. Perhaps he doesn’t need a thousand skies. Perhaps only one—one sky worth a thousand skies. Just one—but enough to let his heart dissolve into the sky.”

Senkuu fell silent. Her words were like a new gravitational force pulling him into an orbit he could not calculate. Yet one he had traveled before—perhaps overlooked somewhere along his path. As his eidetic memory unearthed every detail about Gen—anything, as long as it bore his name—Ruri continued speaking words that felt like water to his parched throat.

Guiding him.

“Have you ever thought, even once, that instead of giving him a complicated flying machine, you could give him a freedom Gen would never forget?”

Senkuu bowed his head, contemplating her words. His brows furrowed, not from frustration, but from unraveling tangled threads of emotion and restoring the logic of science he so treasured.

Now Ruri turned her face away, gazing at the sky that slowly shifted from bright blue to calming orange. “I suppose, it’s moments like this, isn’t it?”

Senkuu glanced up, momentarily distracted, his brows lifting in question.

“I mean, when you chased after Gen and gave him that fireworks show at the edge of the fog valley.” When their eyes met again, Ruri smirked in teasing amusement. Which made Senkuu groan in embarrassment, recalling the event that—though it had warmed his heart—had also burned his pride.

And Ruri, it seemed, carried the same warrior’s blood as Kohaku, never sparing mercy in her strikes. “Chrome said Gen was truly captivated.”

Senkuu clawed his own face. Which only made Ruri all the more devilish. Where had the kind angel from a minute ago gone?

“Pfft. Surely, his father, Dr. Xeno, must’ve made more magnificent fireworks for his beloved little elf. But Gen was so captivated, he told the story every day to the whispering winds. Do you know why?”

“No.”

“Because it was from you... those fireworks exploded in his heart more than anything else.” Ruri pressed her hands together before her chest in prayer, her solemn face lifted toward the sky as the evening wind played with her hair. “I always tell my students at the shrine this: sometimes, who gives is more precious than what is given.”

Silence followed.

But unlike the suffocating silence that had haunted him since coming here, this one gave him time to draw oxygen into his lungs. And the oxygen flowing through his veins had reached its true duty: clearing his mind.

“Ruri, what should I do? What can I do to make Gen happy?”

Ruri, for the first time since speaking to him, smiled sincerely. “I’m certain you already know what makes your fiancé happy. And... what does Ishigami Senkuu do when his roadmap is wrong?”

Senkuu, who had now regained his lost confidence, smirked with ambition ready to challenge the world.

“Turn back and start again. My roadmap.”

“For my fiancé.”