Archive of Our Own

Emilia turned onto her side for what felt like the tenth time, the soft sheets twisting around her legs.
The nightgown Puck had once picked for her felt suddenly too warm against her skin.
She let out a small, frustrated breath and stared up at the shadowed ceiling of her room.
Sleep refused to come.
It had been just another “date,” as Subaru called them.
He’d suggested it that morning with his usual bright grin, rubbing the back of his neck and saying something about how the capital’s night market was supposed to have the best grilled skewers this season.
She’d accepted without hesitation.
She always did now.
These outings had become routine, comfortable, familiar—like breathing.
Ever since the Sanctuary, ever since that quiet moment when he’d leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, everything between them had shifted into something softer, steadier.
He was her knight.
Her one and only knight.
The words still made her heart flutter in a way she couldn’t quite name.
She rolled onto her back again, arms splayed out.
The candle had burned down to a low, steady glow, painting faint orange flickers across the walls.
Today had been… ordinary in the best way.
He’d held her hand the entire walk through the stalls, fingers laced without asking permission anymore.
He’d bought her a skewer piled high with glistening meat and vegetables, then laughed when sauce dripped onto her chin and insisted on wiping it away with the corner of his sleeve—only to smear it worse and end up apologizing dramatically while she giggled into her palm.
He’d toned down so much since those early days.
Back then, when he first stumbled into her life, he was loud, strange, full of bizarre phrases and wild gestures.
She hadn’t known what to make of him.
He’d bow so low his forehead nearly touched the floor, call her “Emilia-tan” in front of everyone, trip over his own feet trying to carry too many trays as her butler.
Once he’d tried to juggle appas in the dining hall just to “impress” her and ended up with fruit splattered across the wall.
Beatrice had scolded him for twenty minutes straight.
Emilia’s lips curved upward at the memory.
He’d looked so proud of himself right up until the first appa hit the floor.
He didn’t do those things as often now.
Months of being at her side, of standing as her knight, he’d grown quieter in his antics, more thoughtful.
More… reliable.
But sometimes he still slipped.
Like earlier, when a street vendor offered free samples of some spicy candy.
Subaru had grabbed one, popped it into his mouth without warning, and immediately started fanning his tongue while hopping from foot to foot like a child who’d touched a hot stove.
“Hot! Hot hot hot. Emilia, save me!” he’d wailed, arms flailing as he begged for water.
She’d handed it over, trying and desperately failing to hide her laughter behind her sleeve.
Even now, the image made her chest feel light.
He was ridiculous.
Ridiculous, and kind, and warm, and—
“…cute,” she murmured into the dark.
Her eyes snapped open.
Emilia blinked once. Twice. Three times.
Cute?
She sat up slowly, silver hair falling forward like a curtain around her face.
She gathered a handful and held it against her cheek as if the cool strands could calm the sudden heat rising there.
She called Puck cute all the time.
His round paws, his fluffy tail, the way he curled up on her lap and purred like a tiny engine.
That word fit him perfectly: small, innocent, familiar. Family.
But Subaru…
The feeling was different.
Sharper.
It tugged at something deeper—something that made her breath catch when he smiled just for her.
When he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world, despite everything—despite the pointed ears, the silver hair, the whispers that followed her everywhere.
When he slipped up and acted silly again, like today with the candy, it wasn’t just amusing.
It was… endearing. Heart-squeezing.
The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way he never seemed embarrassed for long, the way he always turned those moments into something that made her smile too.
Cute.
Emilia pressed both hands to her cheeks.
They were warm—too warm.
“Why is it different?” she whispered to the empty room.
“It’s the same word… but it doesn’t feel the same at all.”
She thought of Puck again: safe, unchanging, gone now but always in her heart.
Then Subaru: ever-present, ever-changing, growing alongside her.
The boy who’d once been a mystery, who’d become her butler, her knight, her closest companion.
The one who stayed.
Her heart gave a funny little lurch.
Emilia flopped back onto the pillows, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling once more.
She didn’t understand it. Not completely. Not yet.
But the word lingered in her mind like the last note of a gentle song.
Cute.
And for some reason, that single thought made it even harder to fall asleep.
Emilia’s thoughts grew hazy, heavy with the warmth of memory.
She pictured their hands again—his fingers wrapped around hers, steady and sure, the faint calluses on his palm brushing her skin like a quiet promise.
The image lingered, soft and comforting, until it blurred at the edges.
Her eyelids fluttered once, twice… and finally drifted closed.
Sleep came gently, carrying her away on the tide of that single, repeated sensation: Subaru’s hand in hers.
A soft knock pulled her back.
“Emilia? Emilia-tan?”
The voice was muffled through the door, laced with worry that cut straight through the fog of sleep.
She stirred, blinking slowly against the daylight that now poured through the curtains.
The room was bright—too bright. Her head felt fuzzy, limbs heavy.
“Subaru…?”
Her voice came out small, still thick with sleep.
The door creaked open a fraction.
“Hey… can I come in? You didn’t come down for breakfast. Or lunch. It’s almost one in the afternoon.”
One…?
Emilia sat up slowly, silver hair tumbling messily over her shoulders.
The sheets pooled around her waist.
“You can come in,” she murmured.
The door opened fully, and Subaru stepped inside, eyes wide with concern.
He was already halfway across the room before she could fully focus on him—hair slightly tousled, sleeves rolled up, the apron he sometimes wore when helping in the kitchen still tied crookedly around his waist.
He stopped at the side of the bed, hovering like he wasn’t sure whether to sit or kneel or just stand there wringing his hands.
“You scared me, you know,” he said, voice low but urgent.
“You never sleep this late. Are you okay? Did you sleep well? I mean—obviously not if you’re still in bed at one, but are you feeling sick? Fever? Headache? Hungry? Thirsty? Do you want water? I can get water. Or tea. Or anything. Just say it.”
He leaned in a little closer, searching her face with those normally sharp, mischievous eyes that had gone soft, almost fragile, with worry.
Emilia stared up at him.
The concern etched across his features was so earnest. So unguarded.
His brows were drawn together, mouth set in a small, anxious frown, and yet there was something unbearably tender about it.
The way he looked at her like she might vanish if he blinked too long.
Cute.
The word slipped into her mind again, uninvited and undeniable.
Her cheeks warmed instantly.
He was still talking, rambling now—something about how he’d already asked Frederica to keep something warm just in case, and how he could run down and grab it right now if she wanted, and did she want to stay in bed or should he help her up, and—
“Subaru,” she said quietly.
He stopped mid-sentence.
“I’m… fine,” she managed, voice soft.
“Really. I just… slept deeply.”
He exhaled, shoulders dropping a fraction in relief, but the worry didn’t fully leave his eyes.
“You sure? You look a little flushed. Are you sure you’re not—”
“I’m sure,” she interrupted gently, offering a small smile.
“Thank you… for worrying.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks tinting the faintest pink.
“Yeah, well… someone’s gotta, right? Can’t have my princess sleeping the day away without at least checking.”
Princess.
The word always made something flutter inside her, but today it felt… heavier. Warmer.
He leaned in again, closer than necessary, to brush a stray lock of silver hair behind her ear.
His fingers lingered for half a heartbeat too long.
Emilia’s breath caught.
Too close. Too much.
Her heart thudded hard against her ribs.
Heat rushed to her face, impossible to hide.
“I—I’ll bring you something to eat,” Subaru said quickly, straightening up as if he’d just realized how near he was.
“Stay right there. Don’t move. I’ll be back in two minutes—tops.”
He flashed her that familiar grin—half sheepish, half determined—then turned and hurried out, the door clicking shut behind him.
The room fell quiet again.
Emilia pressed both hands to her burning cheeks, eyes wide.
She could still feel the ghost of his fingers near her ear.
Could still hear the soft concern in his voice.
Could still see the way his eyes had softened just for her.
Her best friend.
Her knight.
The one who had looked into her eyes, time and time again, and said he loved her—loudly, shamelessly, stubbornly, even when the whole world told him he shouldn’t.
And now… now she was lying here, heart racing, blushing over nothing more than the way he worried about her.
She let out a small, bewildered laugh that sounded almost like a sigh.
“Subaru…”
The name felt different on her tongue today.
Softer. More dangerous.
She pulled the blanket up to her chin again, staring at the door he’d disappeared through.
She didn’t know what this feeling was called.
But she was starting to suspect it had been there for a very long time.
(continues on the next parts…)
Emilia had barely managed to sit up straighter, smoothing the blanket over her lap, when the door opened again.
Subaru returned with a tray balanced carefully in both hands, the faint scent of warm soup and freshly baked bread drifting into the room.
He looked determined, like this simple task was as important as any knightly duty.
He set the tray on the small table beside her bed, then began arranging everything with surprising care—spoon placed just so, napkin unfolded, a glass of water within easy reach.
Emilia watched him the entire time, and for some reason today she noticed things she’d never paid much attention to before.
The way his dark hair fell slightly into his eyes when he leaned forward.
The small scar on the back of his left hand from some long-ago scrape he’d never bothered to explain.
The gentle curve of his mouth when he concentrated, soft and focused entirely on her comfort.
He was… very close.
And he smelled faintly of soap and the kitchen spices he’d been helping with earlier.
Emilia’s heart gave another unsteady thump.
She didn’t want him to leave just yet. Not yet.
“Subaru,” she said quietly, the words slipping out before she could think better of them.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Um… could you… maybe… feed me?”
The room went perfectly still.
Subaru froze mid-motion, spoon halfway to the bowl.
His face turned a vivid shade of red that spread from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.
He stared at her, eyes wide.
Then, slowly, a shy, delighted grin broke across his face.
“Y-Yeah,” he stammered, clearing his throat.
“Yeah, of course. Anything for you, Emilia-tan.”
He sat carefully on the edge of the bed—close enough that their knees almost touched—and lifted the spoon with a small portion of soup.
His hand trembled just the tiniest bit.
Emilia opened her mouth, cheeks burning hotter with every passing second.
He brought the spoon to her lips.
She took the bite slowly, eyes fixed on his face.
His gaze was soft, almost reverent, and when their eyes met, both of them flushed deeper.
It was quiet except for the soft clink of the spoon against the bowl.
Bite after gentle bite, the air between them grew thick with warmth and something unspoken.
When the bowl was nearly empty, Emilia swallowed and murmured,
“Thank you… That was really nice.”
Subaru set the spoon down, still pink-cheeked and smiling like he’d been given the greatest gift.
“Anytime. Seriously. You just have to say the word.”
She hesitated, then added softly,
“I think… I just need to rest a little longer. And then take a bath. I’ll come down after that, I promise.”
He nodded quickly, relief mixing with lingering concern.
“Okay. Take your time. I’ll be around if you need anything—anything at all.”
He stood, gathered the tray, and paused at the door to give her one last look—fond, gentle, full of that unwavering care she had come to rely on so much.
The door closed with a quiet click.
Emilia was alone again.
She brought her hands to her face, pressing her palms against her still-hot cheeks.
What… was that?
The way her heart had raced when he fed her.
The way she’d noticed every small detail about him.
The way she hadn’t wanted him to leave.
He was her best friend.
Her knight.
The one person who had never once flinched away from her, who had said “I love you” with such stubborn honesty that it had become part of the air she breathed.
And now… now every little thing he did made something inside her flutter and twist in ways she couldn’t name.
She curled her knees up, resting her forehead against them.
This feeling—it wasn’t fear. It wasn’t sadness.
It was bright. Fragile. Terrifying in how much she wanted to lean into it.
Emilia closed her eyes and let out a long, shaky breath.
She didn’t have the words for it yet.
But she knew, deep down, that she wanted to keep feeling it.
To keep noticing him.
To keep him close.
A small, secret smile curved her lips despite the confusion.
The bath had done little to cool the strange warmth that lingered beneath her skin.
Steam still clung faintly to the ends of her silver hair as she stepped out into the late-afternoon light, dressed in one of her simpler white summer dresses—the kind Subaru always said made her look “like a walking snowflake, but the pretty kind.”
She had meant to find him—to thank him again, perhaps, or just to see him smile the way he did when she appeared unexpectedly.
Instead, she found him in the garden.
From the shaded archway near the mansion’s side entrance, Emilia watched.
Subaru was in the middle of the wide lawn, sleeves rolled to his elbows, shirt slightly damp with sweat and grass stains already blooming across his chest.
He was locked in a ridiculous, laughing grapple with Garfiel—arms hooked around each other’s necks, legs scrambling for purchase, both of them shouting half-serious taunts between breathless laughter.
“Ya call that a hold, Cap’n?! I’ve seen kittens with better grips!”
“Shut up and eat dirt, tiger-boy—hah!”
Nearby, Otto stood with arms crossed, looking equal parts amused and resigned—until Subaru reached out with one arm, snagged Otto’s ankle, and yanked.
Otto yelped, arms windmilling, and the next second he was tumbling into the fray with an indignant “This is highly undignified—!”
Emilia didn’t laugh out loud.
She didn’t move at all.
Her eyes simply… stayed.
They stayed on Subaru.
On the way the sunlight caught the sweat on his neck and turned it to tiny flecks of gold.
On the crooked, triumphant grin that never quite left his face even when Garfiel nearly pinned him.
On the flex of his shoulders when he pushed back, stubborn and alive and so very present.
On the way his dark hair stuck to his forehead in messy strands, and how he kept shaking his head to flick it out of his eyes without ever letting go of his grip.
Why couldn’t she look away?
She tried—briefly—to shift her gaze to Garfiel’s flashing golden hair, or to Otto’s flailing limbs, or even to the bright flowerbeds swaying gently in the breeze.
But her eyes slid back to Subaru every time.
Like a compass needle finding north.
Just what is going on…?
The question bloomed quietly inside her chest, soft and insistent.
Why is he all that she sees?
She leaned her shoulder against the cool stone of the archway, fingers curling loosely into the fabric of her skirt.
And then, slowly—like snow melting under spring sun—the realization drifted in:
It had always been like this.
Not the intensity, perhaps—not this sudden, aching awareness—but the direction.
The pull.
For as long as she could remember, whenever Subaru was in a room, her gaze had found him first.
In the dining hall, even when everyone was talking, she would notice the way he stole extra bread rolls and tried to look innocent.
During strategy meetings, while others debated, she would watch the way his brows furrowed when he was thinking hard, or how his knee bounced when he was trying not to interrupt.
On quiet nights in the Sanctuary, when fear had pressed in from every side, her eyes had searched for him first—because seeing him still standing, still smiling, still reaching for her hand, had been enough to make the darkness feel smaller.
She had simply… never questioned it before.
It had been natural. Automatic.
Like breathing.
But now she was noticing.
And once she noticed, she couldn’t stop.
She noticed the way one of his canines showed a little more than the other when he grinned wide.
The scar on his left forearm, thin and pale, that he always tried to hide under long sleeves but never quite succeeded.
The shape of his hands—strong, a little rough, capable of both the gentlest touches and the most ridiculous dramatic gestures.
She liked looking at all of it.
She liked looking at him.
Her breath came a little shallower.
The wrestling had devolved into a heap of limbs and laughter on the grass.
Subaru was on the bottom now, pinned but still squirming, still talking, still Subaru.
And Emilia stood there, half-hidden in the shadow of the arch, heart beating too loud in her ears, realizing something both terrifying and impossibly sweet:
She didn’t just like having him near.
She liked watching him exist.
Every small, ridiculous, wonderful piece of him.
The thought made her cheeks burn again.
She pressed cool fingers to them, eyes never leaving the boy in the grass who had somehow—without ever trying—become the center of her entire sky.
The garden’s laughter rang out brighter for a moment as Garfiel finally managed to pin Subaru flat on his back, crowing in victory while Otto—now thoroughly grass-stained—protested from the sidelines about “the dignity of merchants.”
Subaru, still laughing breathlessly, managed to hook a leg around Garfiel’s and flip them both over in one last, ridiculous tumble.
Emilia hadn’t moved from the archway.
Her hands were clasped loosely in front of her, fingers tangled together, and her amethyst eyes remained fixed—soft, unblinking—on the boy at the center of the chaos.
Footsteps approached from the path behind her, light and purposeful.
“Lady Emilia,” Frederica’s warm voice came first, carrying a note of genuine delight.
“There you are. I was beginning to worry when you didn’t come down for—”
The sentence trailed off.
Frederica stopped beside her, golden hair catching the late sun, and followed the direction of Emilia’s gaze.
She saw the wrestling heap, the flushed faces, the easy camaraderie—and then she saw how Emilia looked at it.
Not at the scene.
At him.
At Subaru’s crooked grin, at the way he shoved playfully at Garfiel’s shoulder even while being pinned again, at the bright spark in his eyes that never seemed to dim.
Frederica’s own expression softened into something tender and knowing.
A small, quiet smile curved her lips.
Oh…
So it was finally happening.
The half-elf princess, who had spent so long believing herself unworthy of anything resembling affection, was looking at her knight the way someone looks when they’ve only just realized the sky has always been blue and beautiful—and they’ve been walking beneath it without ever lifting their head.
She opened her mouth, ready to say something gentle, something encouraging—
A sharp voice cut through the air like a blade.
“Barusu is going to pull something if he keeps making a fool of himself like that. And you, Lady Emilia, are staring so hard I’m surprised your eyes haven’t fallen out of your head.”
Ram stood suddenly at Emilia’s other side—when had she arrived?—arms crossed, pink eyes narrowed in cool amusement.
Emilia startled, silver hair swinging as she whipped her head toward the pink-haired maid.
Heat flooded her face in an instant.
“R-Ram?!”
Frederica stifled a laugh behind her hand, shoulders shaking slightly.
Ram didn’t even blink.
“You’ve been standing here like a statue for at least five minutes, mooning over Barusu’s sweaty, undignified antics. If you’re going to gawk, at least do it with some subtlety. It’s embarrassing for everyone involved.”
“I—I wasn’t—!”
Emilia’s voice cracked, high and flustered.
Her hands flew to her cheeks as if she could hide the blush already blooming there.
“I was just… looking at the garden! And… and everyone!”
Ram arched one perfect brow.
“The garden,” she repeated flatly.
“Which happens to have Barusu rolling around in the dirt like an overgrown child. How disgusting.”
Frederica finally let her laughter spill out—soft, melodic, impossible to contain.
“Ram, be gentle,” she murmured, though her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I think Lady Emilia is only just beginning to understand something rather important.”
Emilia looked helplessly between the two maids, then back toward the lawn.
Subaru had finally extricated himself from the pile.
He was sitting up now, brushing grass from his hair, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
When his gaze lifted and found her standing at the archway, his entire face lit up.
“Emilia-tan!” he called, waving enthusiastically.
“You’re finally up! Come join us—the grass is surprisingly soft when you’re losing spectacularly!”
The sight of him—messy, bright, utterly himself—sent another quiet, warm jolt through her chest.
Emilia swallowed.
She could feel both Frederica’s gentle, encouraging gaze and Ram’s sharp, knowing one on either side of her.
And for once… she didn’t look away from Subaru first.
She didn’t know what this feeling was called yet.
But she was starting to want to learn its name.
Very much.
Emilia took another step forward, then another, the soft grass cushioning her bare feet beneath the hem of her dress.
The breeze carried the scent of crushed green and sun-warmed flowers, and with every step the voices grew clearer.
“Emilia-tan!” Subaru called again, scrambling to his feet the moment he saw her approaching.
Grass clung to his shirt and hair, but his grin was brighter than the afternoon light.
“You made it! I was starting to think you’d went back to sleep”
Garfiel, still sprawled on his back, propped himself up on his elbows and flashed a toothy grin.
“’Bout time ya showed up, Princess! Cap’n here was gettin’ all mopey without ya.”
Otto dusted off his trousers with exaggerated dignity, though a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Lady Emilia, good afternoon. You look… refreshed.”
The three of them turned toward her fully now, and Emilia felt the combined weight of their attention like sunlight on her skin—warm, but suddenly overwhelming.
She managed a small smile, fingers twisting together in front of her.
“Good afternoon… everyone.”
For a moment they all spoke at once—Garfiel boasting about his “unbeatable” pin, Subaru laughing and calling it a draw, Otto sighing about how none of this was in his job description.
But then Otto’s gaze flicked between Subaru and Emilia.
He saw the faint pink still lingering high on her cheeks, the way her eyes kept drifting back to Subaru even while she tried to listen to Garfiel.
He saw the subtle shift in the air—the quiet, fragile thing that had been building for months finally starting to bloom in broad daylight.
Otto cleared his throat.
“Well,” he said briskly, “I believe I’ve had quite enough physical exertion for one afternoon. If you’ll excuse me, I have… a ton of paperwork to finish. Very important ones. Yes.”
He gave Subaru a quick, meaningful pat on the shoulder—more of a shove, really—and started backing away toward the path.
“Do enjoy the rest of your day, you two.”
Garfiel blinked, looking between Otto’s retreating figure and the pair still standing in the grass.
Then he looked at Emilia again. Really looked.
He saw the blush that had deepened from pale rose to something closer to sunset, the way her amethyst eyes kept finding Subaru and holding there a heartbeat too long.
He saw the tiny, unconscious way she leaned just slightly toward his captain.
A slow, shit-eating grin spread across Garfiel’s face.
“Y’know what?” he announced loudly.
“Think I’m gonna go… help Otto with his homework. Yeah. Super important stuff. Catch ya later, Cap’n! Princess!”
He hopped to his feet, dusted his hands together with exaggerated finality, and jogged off after Otto—whistling a jaunty, off-key tune the entire way.
And just like that… they were alone.
Subaru blinked after the rapidly departing duo, then turned back to Emilia with a puzzled laugh.
“Huh. That was weirdly coordinated. Almost like they planned it.”
He stepped closer—close enough that she could smell the clean sweat and crushed grass on him—and reached out without hesitation, the way he always did.
His fingers brushed a stray lock of silver hair behind her ear, then lingered to cup her cheek for just a second.
“You okay?” he asked, voice softening.
“You’re still kinda flushed. Did you overheat in the bath? Or is it the sun? I can get you some water—cold water. Really cold. I’ll fan you with my shirt if you want—”
He was rambling again, the familiar affectionate flood of concern and teasing and care, and normally Emilia would smile and let it wash over her like gentle rain.
But today…
Today every word felt like it landed somewhere deeper.
Every casual touch sent a quiet spark skittering across her skin.
And when he leaned in to press his forehead lightly to hers—just a playful little bump, the way he’d done a hundred times before—her breath caught audibly.
Subaru froze.
He pulled back just enough to really look at her.
Her cheeks were darker now—vivid, unmistakable—and her eyes were wide, shimmering, fixed on his face like she was seeing him for the first time.
“…Emilia-tan?”
His voice dropped, suddenly careful.
A faint blush of his own crept up his neck.
“You’re… really red. Like, more than usual red.”
He swallowed, thumb brushing once—softly—across her cheekbone.
“Is something… wrong?”
Emilia shook her head quickly, silver hair swaying.
“N-no. Nothing’s wrong.”
She hesitated.
Then, in the smallest voice, almost lost in the breeze:
“I just… like looking at you.”
The words hung between them, fragile and honest.
Subaru blinked.
Then blinked again.
And slowly—very slowly—a smile spread across his face, soft and stunned and brighter than any he’d worn all day.
“Oh,” he said, almost a whisper.
His hand slid from her cheek to the side of her neck, fingers gentle, reverent.
Subaru’s brain short-circuited.
Did she—
Did she just—
Did Emilia-tan just say she likes looking at him?
The words echoed in his skull like a bell struck too hard, ringing louder with every repeat.
His heart slammed against his ribs so violently he was sure she could hear it.
She’d said she liked him before—quietly, sweetly, in that careful way of hers.
She’d thanked him, hugged him, even kissed his cheek once or twice when the mood was soft enough and no one else was watching.
She’d accepted his endless affection with growing ease, returning it in small, earnest pieces: a hand squeeze, a lingering glance, a murmured “Thank you, Subaru” that always made him feel ten feet tall.
But this?
“I just… like looking at you.”
Straightforward. Unprompted. No preamble, no safety net.
It was the first time she’d ever said anything like that.
His face went nuclear.
Heat exploded from his neck upward, ears burning, cheeks scorching.
He could feel the flush spreading like wildfire, impossible to hide, and for once he didn’t even try.
“E-Emilia-tan…”
His voice cracked on her name—higher than usual, embarrassingly so.
He rubbed the back of his neck hard enough to leave red marks, eyes darting everywhere except her face before snapping back because he physically couldn’t look away.
“You… you really just said that. Out loud. To me.”
Emilia’s own realization hit her like a bucket of cold water a second later.
Her eyes widened fractionally.
Her mouth parted in a tiny, horrified “oh.”
The words had slipped out so naturally—because they were true, because she’d been thinking them so loudly in her head all day—that she hadn’t even registered how bold they sounded until they were hanging in the open air between them.
She had just told Subaru—her knight, her best friend, the boy who’d confessed his love to her more times than she could count—that she liked looking at him.
Her hands flew to her cheeks again, pressing hard as if she could push the rising color back inside.
“I—I didn’t mean—well, I did mean it, but—!”
She cut herself off, flustered beyond words, silver hair falling forward like a curtain she wished could hide her completely.
Subaru stared at her—really stared—his own blush somehow deepening even further, if that was possible.
His mouth opened and closed twice before he managed a shaky, stunned laugh.
“You’re… you’re killing me here, you know that?” he managed, voice rough with emotion and disbelief.
“In the best way. Like—seriously. I think my heart just did a backflip and forgot how to land.”
He took a small step closer—tentative, like he was afraid the moment might shatter if he moved too fast.
Emilia peeked at him through her fingers.
Saw the wide-eyed wonder on his face, the way his gaze softened into something achingly tender, the way he looked at her like she’d just handed him the entire world instead of a single, simple sentence.
And suddenly the embarrassment didn’t feel quite so overwhelming.
She lowered her hands slowly.
“I… meant it,” she whispered again, softer this time.
“I do. Like looking at you. A lot.”
Subaru exhaled a shaky breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh mixed with something deeper.
Then, before he could say anything else that might make both of them combust, Emilia straightened her shoulders—gathering what little composure she had left—and gestured toward the grass stains on his shirt, the dirt smudged across his cheek, the leaves still tangled in his dark hair.
“Um… you’re all messy from wrestling,” she said quickly, seizing on the distraction like a lifeline.
“Let me… let me help you clean up. To thank you. For earlier. For… everything.”
Subaru blinked.
Then his expression melted into the softest, most helplessly smitten smile she’d ever seen.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice quiet and warm.
“You want to?”
She nodded—small, but certain.
He rubbed the back of his neck again, still flushed, still dazed, but now grinning like the luckiest idiot in Lugunica.
“Then… yeah. I’d like that. A lot.”
He offered her his hand—palm up, the way he always did.
And this time, when Emilia slid her fingers into his without hesitation, neither of them pretended it was anything less than what it was.
Emilia’s fingers tightened gently around Subaru’s hand, a quiet determination settling over her.
Without a word, she tugged him forward—toward the wide stone fountain at the center of the garden, where clear water bubbled softly in the late-afternoon sun.
“Come on,” she said, voice soft but steady.
“Over here.”
Subaru let himself be led, heart still hammering from her earlier confession, half-convinced this was all some wonderful, impossible dream he’d wake up from any second.
He stumbled only once, too busy staring at the back of her silver head and the way the sunlight haloed around her like she was made of light itself.
When they reached the fountain’s broad rim, Emilia released his hand long enough to pat the smooth, sun-warmed stone.
“Sit,” she instructed, turning those earnest amethyst eyes on him.
Subaru obeyed instantly, perching on the edge with a sheepish grin.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She looked around briefly, making sure the fountain’s ledge was free of moss or dirt, then dipped the small towel he’d pulled from his pocket into the cool, running water.
The fabric darkened as it soaked, droplets falling back into the basin with quiet plinks.
Emilia wrung it out just enough, then stepped between his knees—close, so close—and lifted the damp cloth toward his face.
Subaru’s breath hitched.
“Uh… Emilia-tan? You don’t have to—”
“Shh,” she murmured, already pressing the cool towel to his cheek.
“You’re all dirty. And sweaty. Let me.”
The first touch was gentle—almost reverent.
She wiped away the streak of dirt along his jaw, then moved upward to the smudge on his temple.
Subaru’s face burned hotter than the summer sun.
“This is… kinda embarrassing,” he mumbled, voice cracking on the last word.
“You’re totally mothering me right now. I’m supposed to be the knight here, y’know? The one taking care of you.”
Emilia paused for only a heartbeat.
Then she continued, slower now, the cloth tracing the line of his cheekbone with careful attention.
“I want to,” she said simply.
“You always take care of me. This time… let me.”
Subaru swallowed hard.
He couldn’t argue with that tone—soft, stubborn, and impossibly sweet.
So he stayed still, letting her work.
And as she did, something shifted.
Emilia’s movements grew slower. More deliberate.
The towel drifted over the curve of his brow, then down the bridge of his nose.
She tilted her head slightly, eyes tracing every line she cleaned: the faint scar near his hairline he’d gotten from some long-ago tumble, the way one eyebrow arched just a little higher than the other when he was teasing, the small constellation of freckles barely visible across the top of his cheeks.
She was staring. Really staring.
Subaru noticed.
His own blush, which had barely started to fade, roared back full force.
“Emilia-tan… you’re, uh… looking really close.”
She froze, cloth still pressed lightly to the corner of his mouth.
Her eyes flicked up to meet his—wide, shimmering, caught.
“I…”
The word came out small.
A flush bloomed across her face, deeper than before, spreading to the tips of her pointed ears.
“Your face is… nice.”
Subaru’s brain flatlined for the second time that afternoon.
Nice.
She thought his face was nice.
He stared at her—open-mouthed, heart doing acrobatics—and watched as she realized what she’d just admitted out loud.
Her hand trembled the tiniest bit.
The towel slipped lower, brushing along the line of his jaw, lingering there almost without meaning to.
“I like… looking at it,” she whispered, barely audible over the fountain’s gentle murmur.
“All of it. The way you smile. The way your eyes get all soft when you look at me. Even… even the little scar here.”
Her fingertip—cool from the water—traced the faint mark near his temple.
Subaru’s breath shuddered out of him.
“Emilia…”
His voice was rough, wrecked with something tender and overwhelming.
“You’re gonna make me cry in the middle of the garden, you know that?”
She blinked rapidly, cheeks flaming, but she didn’t pull away.
Instead she finished cleaning the last smudge from his chin, then let the towel fall slowly to her side.
For a long moment they just looked at each other—her standing between his knees, him seated on the fountain’s edge, the world narrowed down to the space between their faces.
Then Subaru reached up, slow and careful, and covered her hand—the one still holding the damp towel—with his own.
“Thank you,” he said, voice thick.
“For… this. For all of it.”
Emilia’s lips curved into the smallest, shyest smile.
“You’re welcome, Subaru.”
Over the next couple of weeks, the mansion seemed to breathe a little differently.
Subaru noticed it in fragments at first—small, bright moments that caught him off guard and left him staring after her like an idiot long after she’d walked away.
It started with the hugs.
One evening after dinner, when the others had drifted off to their rooms and the dining hall was quiet except for the crackle of the dying fire, Emilia had simply stepped close and wrapped her arms around his waist from the front.
No preamble, no hesitation.
Just her cheek pressed to his chest, silver hair spilling over his shoulder like moonlight, and a soft, contented sigh against his shirt.
He’d frozen for a full three seconds before his arms came up to hold her back—careful, reverent, like she might vanish if he squeezed too hard.
“Good night, Subaru,” she’d murmured into his collarbone.
And then she’d pulled away, offered him that small, shy smile that was somehow brighter than it used to be, and floated off toward the stairs.
He’d stood there for another minute, heart doing cartwheels, whispering to the empty room,
“What the hell just happened…?”
After that, it became a pattern.
She started reaching for his hand more often—sliding her fingers into his while they walked through the halls, or when they sat together on the veranda watching the stars.
No asking. No explanation.
Just… taking.
And every time, her thumb would brush slow, absent circles over his knuckles, like she was memorizing the feel of him.
Subaru’s brain short-circuited a little more each time.
Then came the training sessions.
He’d finish sparring with Garfiel—sweaty, bruised, sometimes sporting a split lip or a blooming purple mark on his cheek—and without fail, Emilia would appear at the edge of the yard, healer’s magic already in hand.
“You’re hurt again,” she’d say, voice gentle but firm.
“Come here.”
He’d protest—halfheartedly, because who was he to say no to her?—and she’d guide him to sit on the low stone bench under the oak tree.
Cool fingers would press against his skin, magic flowing in soft silver light that chased the pain away faster than any potion ever could.
But she didn’t stop at healing.
She’d linger.
Her fingertips would trace the edges of fading bruises, smoothing over them even after the magic had done its work.
Once, after particularly rough training, she’d cleaned a shallow cut on his cheek with a damp cloth, then—without breaking eye contact—let her hand slide along the line of his jaw.
Slow. Deliberate.
Her thumb had brushed the corner of his mouth.
Then she’d lifted his chin gently with two fingers, tilting his face up to inspect it one last time, amethyst eyes searching his like she was looking for something only she could see.
Subaru had forgotten how to breathe.
“Emilia-tan…” he’d managed, voice wrecked and quiet.
“You’re… uh… really close.”
She’d blinked slowly, cheeks pink but not retreating.
“I know,” she’d whispered.
And then she’d smiled—small, secret, a little bolder than before—and let her hand fall away, only to take his instead and lace their fingers together as they walked back to the mansion.
Subaru was losing his mind in the best possible way.
Every touch felt like a gift he hadn’t earned yet somehow kept receiving.
Every lingering glance made his chest ache with something too big and too warm to name.
And every time she initiated—whether it was a hug that lasted longer than necessary, or her hand finding his in a crowded room, or the way she’d rest her head against his shoulder during quiet evenings in the library—he felt like he was falling all over again.
Only this time, she was falling too.
And she was reaching for him on the way down.
Days later, Emilia sat alone in the vast, dimly lit library of the mansion, the scent of old paper and faint dust wrapping around her like a familiar cloak.
Beatrice had grumbled something about “interrupting her reading time, I suppose,” but had pointed her toward a dusty shelf of tomes on human emotions and relationships before retreating to her favorite armchair with a huff.
The book in Emilia’s lap was heavy, its leather cover worn from years of quiet perusal.
Understanding Affection and Desire by Tappei, pulled from the forbidden library’s endless stacks.
Emilia’s fingers traced the embossed title, her cheeks already warming at the memory of why she was here.
These past weeks… she had changed.
Or rather, something inside her had awakened, uncoiling slowly like a flower in spring.
It started small: reaching for Subaru’s hand during a walk through the gardens, not because she needed guidance, but because she wanted to feel his warmth.
Then the hugs—impulsive, lingering, her arms around his middle as if to anchor herself to his steady presence.
And the healing sessions… oh, those.
She remembered yesterday’s training.
Subaru had come back with a fresh bruise blooming across his cheekbone, grinning sheepishly as Garfiel boasted about his “gentle” sparring.
Without thinking, she’d taken his arm and led him to the bench, her magic flowing easily to mend the mark.
But then her hands had stayed—fingers brushing along his jaw, lifting his chin to “inspect” the healed skin, even though there was nothing left to fix.
His eyes had widened, that familiar blush creeping up his neck, and she’d felt her own face heat in response.
Too touchy. Far too touchy.
Emilia pressed her palms to her cheeks now, as if she could cool the phantom warmth.
“What’s wrong with me…?” she whispered to the empty shelves.
She couldn’t help it.
Not when he was being his goofy self—tripping over a loose stone in the courtyard and turning it into an exaggerated bow, or making silly faces at Petra during lunch to make the girl giggle.
In those moments, he was cute.
Adorably, heart-squeezingly cute, like Puck had been, but sharper, warmer, pulling at something deeper in her chest.
But then… then he’d do something cool.
Like standing firm during a tense meeting with Roswaal, his voice steady and sure as he defended her ideas.
Or when he put on his Knight outfit or even when she’d catch him training alone at dawn, movements precise and strong, sweat glistening on his brow.
Handsome.
The word slipped into her mind unbidden, making her breath catch.
Even when she just stared—really stared—at the way his dark hair fell into his eyes, or the curve of his smile when he looked her way… handsome.
Her heart raced just thinking about it.
Emilia flipped open the book, scanning the yellowed pages with growing urgency.
What was this feeling?
This pull that made her want to be near him, touch him, see every expression on his face?
Was it… love?
The words blurred for a moment before she focused.
Attraction, one passage read, is the initial spark—the appeal of another’s presence, often rooted in appearance or simple companionship.
It draws one near, like a moth to flame, but lacks depth.
Emilia nodded slowly.
That sounded familiar.
The way she’d first noticed Subaru’s smiles, his eyes, his unwavering kindness despite the world’s cruelty toward her.
Then another section:
A crush, or infatuation, builds upon attraction.
It is intense, often fleeting, born from an idealized view of the other.
One may feel butterflies, a racing heart, an urge to be close—yet it stems from limited knowledge, filling unknowns with desire rather than truth.
Her fingers tightened on the page.
Butterflies—yes.
The intensity when she traced his jaw, the way her thoughts wandered to him even in quiet moments.
But fleeting?
She didn’t want it to be fleeting.
Subaru wasn’t just an idea; he was real, flaws and all—his stubbornness, his occasional recklessness.
And yet… she still felt this pull.
Finally, a longer chapter:
Love transcends these.
It is deep, enduring, encompassing intimacy, passion, and commitment.
Love knows the other’s shadows—their failures, dreams, vulnerabilities—and chooses them anyway.
It grows over time, from attraction through infatuation, becoming a bond that sacrifices and supports.
Emilia closed the book slowly, letting the words sink in.
Attraction.
A crush.
The first steps… into love.
Her chest tightened, a mix of fear and quiet joy blooming there.
Was that what this was?
The beginning of something more?
She’d never known love like this—not romantic, not the kind that made her world tilt toward one person.
Puck’s love was familial, safe.
This… this was new. Terrifying. Wonderful.
She thought of Subaru again—goofy, handsome, everything in between—and smiled despite the flush creeping up her neck.
“I… I think I have a crush,” she murmured to the silent library, testing the word.
It felt right. Light.
But with the promise of more.
And for the first time, she didn’t shy away from wanting to find out what came next.
A couple of days passed in a quiet haze of stolen glances and lingering touches.
Emilia found herself watching Subaru more openly now—during breakfast when he stole extra bacon and tried to look innocent, during afternoon tea when he absentmindedly played with the ends of her silver hair while they talked.
Each time, the warmth in her chest grew a little bolder, a little surer.
She had a crush.
The word still made her cheeks heat, but it no longer felt like a secret she needed to hide.
It felt like the beginning of something she wanted to chase.
So on the third morning, when the mansion was still wrapped in soft dawn light and most of the others were asleep, Emilia found Subaru in the kitchen.
He was humming off-key, sleeves rolled up, attempting (and failing) to flip a pancake without it landing half on the counter.
She paused in the doorway, heart suddenly loud in her ears.
“Subaru?”
He jumped, nearly dropping the spatula.
“Emilia-tan! Morning! You’re up early. Want a pancake? I swear this one will be perfect—third time’s the charm.”
She stepped closer, fingers twisting together in front of her skirt.
“I… wanted to ask you something.”
Subaru turned fully toward her, spatula forgotten on the counter.
His teasing grin softened into something more attentive.
“Yeah? Anything.”
Emilia took a steadying breath.
The words she’d practiced in her room—quietly, to the mirror—suddenly felt too big for her mouth.
“Will you… go on a date with me?”
Silence.
Subaru blinked once. Twice.
His eyes widened until they were almost comically large.
“You… you’re asking me?” he managed, voice cracking on the last word.
Emilia nodded, cheeks already burning.
“Yes. I thought… maybe we could spend the day together. You’re always the one asking, and I wanted to try.”
For a heartbeat, Subaru looked like someone had just told him the world had turned upside down in the best possible way.
Then his entire face lit up—bright, stunned, deliriously happy.
“Yes!”
The word burst out of him like he’d been holding it for years.
“Yes—absolutely yes! Emilia-tan asking me out? Are you kidding? I’d love to! When? Today? Tomorrow? Right now? I’m free! I’m so free!”
Emilia’s heart gave a sharp, fluttering skip.
The sheer joy on his face—the way his eyes sparkled, the way he looked at her like she’d handed him the stars—made something inside her bloom wider.
She smiled, small and shy and impossibly bright.
“Then… today?”
“Today,” he agreed instantly, already bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
He paused, grin turning a little mischievous.
“So… what did you have in mind, my lady? Got any grand romantic plans?”
Emilia froze.
Plans.
She hadn’t… actually thought that far.
“I… um…”
Her voice trailed off.
Heat rushed to her face again.
“I didn’t… I mean, I just thought of asking you. I didn’t—”
Subaru’s laugh was soft, fond, not mocking at all.
“You didn’t plan past the asking part, huh? That’s adorable. Classic Emilia-tan move.”
She pouted, cheeks puffing slightly.
“Don’t tease me…”
“I’m not—I’m not! It’s cute! Seriously.”
He stepped closer, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of silver hair behind her ear.
“Take your time. Think about it. Whatever you want to do, I’m in. Picnic? Stargazing? Exploring the capital? Fighting a dragon? I’m there.”
Emilia bit her lip, then nodded.
“I’ll… think of something quick. I promise.”
“Take all the time you need,” he said, voice dropping softer.
“I’ve waited this long. A few more hours won’t kill me.”
He leaned in and pressed the lightest, quickest kiss to her forehead—barely more than a brush—then pulled back with a grin that could have lit the entire kitchen.
“I’ll go finish these pancakes before Ram comes in and judges my life choices. You… think. And don’t overthink. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Subaru gave her one last beaming smile before turning back to the stove, humming again—louder now, happier.
Emilia slipped out of the kitchen on quiet feet, heart still racing, cheeks still warm.
She had asked him out.
He had said yes.
And now… she had to plan a date.
Emilia slipped into her room the moment Subaru disappeared back toward the kitchen, his cheerful humming still echoing faintly down the hall.
Her heart hadn’t quite settled from the leap she’d taken—asking him out, hearing his stunned, overjoyed “yes”—and now she needed to decide what kind of date she would give him.
She crossed to the small bookshelf beside her desk, intending to flip through the tome on emotions she’d been reading the past few nights.
Maybe there would be a section on romantic outings, something to spark an idea.
But when she reached for the book, her hand brushed something else instead—a faint, dried rustle.
Her fingers froze.
Tucked behind a growing stack of election documents, scrolls, and books that had slowly buried the corner of her desk over the months, was the flower crown.
The one Subaru had made for her on their very first “date”—back when the word still felt foreign, when she hadn’t understood why her heart fluttered every time he smiled at her like she was the only person in the world.
She carefully lifted the delicate thing from its hiding place.
The petals had long since lost their vibrant color, faded to pale ghosts of pink and white and lavender.
Some had crumbled away entirely, leaving gaps in the woven stems.
The once-lush greenery had dried to brittle brown.
Emilia cradled it in both hands, eyes tracing the careful loops Subaru had tied with such concentration that afternoon in the flower garden.
She could still see him—tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, brows furrowed in focus, glancing up every few seconds to make sure she liked it.
“I almost forgot…” she whispered.
A quiet sadness bloomed in her chest.
The crown had once been so alive, so full of his warmth and laughter.
Now it was fragile, fading, like a memory she hadn’t cherished enough.
Her eyes watered.
One tear slipped free and landed on a wilted petal, darkening it briefly before soaking in.
Then the idea struck her—bright, sudden, perfect.
She didn’t hesitate.
Emilia rushed from the room, the dried crown still gently cupped in her palms, silver hair streaming behind her as she hurried through the corridors and out into the morning light.
She found Subaru in the courtyard behind the stables.
He was on his knees, scrubbing at a suspicious dark stain on the cobblestones—likely the result of one of his infamous “experiments” with the kitchen’s new oil.
When he heard her footsteps, he looked up, face breaking into that instant, sunlit grin.
“Emilia-tan! Back already? Did you miss me tha—”
She didn’t let him finish.
Emilia knelt in front of him, holding the faded crown out between them like an offering.
Subaru’s words died in his throat.
His eyes widened as recognition hit.
The grin softened.
His hands stilled on the rag.
“…You kept it,” he said quietly, voice thick.
Emilia nodded, eyes shining.
“Subaru,” she began, voice soft but steady, “I’ve decided. For our date… can we go back to that same flower garden? The one where you made this for me?”
She lifted the crown a little higher.
“I want to make a new one. Together. And… I want to make one for you, too.”
Silence.
Subaru stared at the crown, then at her—really looked at her, eyes searching her face as if trying to memorize every detail of this moment.
Then his expression crumpled in the gentlest, most overwhelmed way.
“You… want to go back there?” he asked, almost a whisper.
“And make crowns? For each other?”
Emilia nodded again, cheeks pink but determined.
“Yes. That’s what I decided. I think… it would be perfect.”
Subaru let out a shaky laugh—half disbelief, half pure joy—and scrubbed a hand through his hair.
“Emilia-tan…”
His voice cracked.
“That’s—that’s the most perfect date idea anyone has ever come up with. Ever. In the history of dates. I’m not even exaggerating.”
He reached out slowly, fingertips brushing hers as he took the old crown from her hands.
He held it like it was made of glass, thumb tracing one of the remaining petals.
“Going back to the place where it all started… just us, surrounded by flowers, sitting in the grass, making something together again…”
He looked up at her, eyes bright and a little wet.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s perfect. More than perfect.”
Emilia’s heart swelled so full it almost hurt.
“Then… it’s decided,” she said, smiling—small, radiant, a little shy.
Subaru nodded, still cradling the old crown like a treasure.
He told her to get ready while he finished up here.
The noon sun hung high and bright as Emilia slipped back into her room after Subaru’s enthusiastic “right now” declaration.
Her heart still fluttered from asking him out last night, from his wide-eyed, overjoyed yes, and now the day was truly beginning.
She brushed her silver hair until it fell in soft, shining waves, then opened her wardrobe.
Her fingers found the white dress with delicate pink accents—the one she had worn on their very first outing together.
It had been months since she last wore it, but today it felt right.
The soft fabric settled over her like a gentle memory, the pale pink ribbons and lace catching the light in a way that made her feel both nostalgic and new.
She gave herself one last look in the mirror, cheeks already faintly flushed, and smiled.
Downstairs, Subaru had finished his courtyard cleanup and dashed to his room.
His tracksuit—lay neatly folded on the bed, courtesy of Petra’s careful touch.
He changed quickly, the familiar material comfortable and bright against the morning light.
A quick finger-comb through his hair, and he was at the main entrance, pacing with barely contained excitement.
When Emilia descended the grand staircase, Subaru stopped dead.
She was radiant—white dress glowing softly in the sunlight pouring through the tall windows, pink accents like delicate petals against her silver hair.
It had been a while since she’d worn it, and the sight hit him all over again.
“You’re… wearing that dress,” he said, voice soft with wonder.
“The same one from back then. God, Emilia-tan, you look as cute as ever. Maybe even cuter.”
Emilia’s cheeks bloomed pink.
She stepped closer, reaching for his hand.
“You look good too,” she said quietly, eyes tracing the bright orange of his tracksuit.
She leaned in just a little, breathing in.
“And… it smells nice. Fresh.”
Subaru laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
“Freshly washed. Just for today. Gotta look—and smell—the part for my first real date with you.”
She smiled, small and bright, and squeezed his fingers.
Hand in hand, they left the mansion.
The walk to their special garden was quiet and perfect.
The noon sun warmed their skin, the air sweet with late-summer blooms.
Their fingers stayed laced the whole way—thumbs brushing slow circles, gentle squeezes every few steps—like silent conversation.
When they reached the field, the garden opened before them like an old friend: endless waves of color under the clear sky.
Pink cosmos, purple lavender, white daisies, golden sunflowers—all swaying gently in the warm breeze.
Butterflies drifted lazily.
The same place where Subaru had first made her a crown, where everything had begun to shift.
Subaru exhaled, eyes shining.
“Still the best place,” he murmured.
Emilia nodded, squeezing his hand.
“Because we’re here again. Together.”
They found a sunny patch of grass near the center and sat.
Each took a thick piece of string Subaru had brought from the mansion.
Then the fun began.
Subaru dove in with enthusiasm, picking flowers with careful focus.
He gathered armfuls of purple lavender, white daisies, soft pink cosmos, and even a few bright yellow accents—colors that reminded him of her: gentle, bright, beautiful.
Every few seconds he’d glance at her, grinning, holding up a particularly pretty bloom for approval.
Emilia watched him with quiet fondness, then turned to her own task.
She searched specifically for orange flowers—bright, bold ones that matched his tracksuit—and white ones to balance them.
She wanted something that felt like him: lively, warm, impossible to miss.
She added a few green stems for contrast, fingers nimble and precise.
They laughed the whole time—Subaru dramatically presenting each flower like a treasure, Emilia giggling when a bee landed on his nose, both of them stealing glances at the other’s growing pile.
It took time.
The sun climbed higher.
Petals scattered around them like colorful confetti.
Finally, Emilia finished.
She held up the crown she’d made for him—orange blooms bright against white and green, woven with care and affection.
Subaru’s eyes softened.
“It’s perfect,” he whispered.
He reached for his first.
With gentle hands, he placed the crown he’d made for her on her head—purple and pink and white, soft and lovely against her silver hair.
The flowers framed her face like a halo.
Emilia’s cheeks went scarlet.
She felt the warmth of the petals, the weight of his care, and her heart raced so hard she was sure he could hear it.
“Now you,” she said, voice soft but insistent.
Subaru sat obediently, cross-legged in the grass.
Emilia moved behind him, kneeling so she could see over his shoulder.
Her fingers trembled just a little as she lifted the crown she’d made.
Slowly, carefully, she settled it onto his dark hair, adjusting it so the orange blooms caught the sunlight perfectly.
When she finished, she leaned around to look at him.
Subaru turned his head, grinning wide and boyish, the crown sitting slightly crooked in the most endearing way.
“How do I look?” he asked, eyes sparkling.
Emilia’s breath caught.
She stared at him—the bright orange flowers against his messy hair, the way the colors matched his tracksuit, the way he looked so happy, so hers.
“Handsome,” she said softly, the word slipping out like a secret she’d been keeping too long.
Subaru’s grin faltered into stunned silence.
His cheeks flushed a deep red—brighter than she’d ever seen.
“Handsome…?” he repeated, almost disbelieving.
Emilia nodded, blushing just as hard.
“Yes. You look handsome.”
He ducked his head, laughing softly, hand coming up to touch the crown like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.
Then he looked up at her again, eyes soft and shining.
“We match,” he said quietly.
“You with your pretty flowers… me with mine. Perfect together.”
Emilia’s smile bloomed, wide and radiant.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“We do.”
They sat there in the grass, crowned in each other’s colors, the garden alive around them.
As she kneeled behind him she leaned forward slightly, inspecting him.
Her eyes traced the way the flowers framed his face—the slight crookedness of his smile, the faint freckles across his nose barely visible in the light, the spark of happiness in his dark eyes.
And then her gaze drifted lower… to his lips.
Soft. Slightly parted. Still curved in that familiar, heart-squeezing grin.
Before she could think—before she could talk herself out of it—her hands moved on their own.
She cupped his face gently, thumbs brushing along the line of his jaw.
Subaru’s eyes widened in surprise, pupils blowing wide.
Then she closed the distance.
Her lips met his—soft, tentative, warm.
Subaru froze for half a heartbeat.
Then his eyes fluttered shut in pure, overwhelming bliss.
A quiet, happy sound escaped him as he leaned into the kiss, one hand coming up to cover hers where it rested against his cheek.
The world narrowed to the gentle press of lips, the faint scent of flowers and fresh-washed tracksuit, the warmth of his skin under her palms.
When they parted—just enough to breathe—Emilia’s face was scarlet.
Heat flooded her cheeks, her ears, the tips of her pointed ears.
She stared at him with wide, shimmering amethyst eyes, lips tingling.
Subaru blinked slowly, then his expression melted into the softest, most helplessly smitten smile.
“Well…” he murmured, voice low and teasing, though his own cheeks were flushed deep red.
“Emilia-tan just kissed me first. I think I might be dreaming.”
Emilia ducked her head, embarrassed but not regretting it for a single second.
“It… it felt right,” she whispered, voice small but sure.
“I wanted to.”
Subaru’s teasing softened instantly into something unbearably tender.
“I’m so happy you did,” he said, voice thick with emotion.
“You have no idea how happy.”
Emilia let out a soft, relieved giggle—bright and a little shaky—and surged forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly from behind.
Subaru laughed quietly, warm and happy, and let himself settle back against her.
He shifted until he was comfortably nestled between her legs, back to her chest, her arms still looped securely around him as she spooned him in the grass.
They both turned their gazes outward.
The flower garden stretched before them in endless waves of color—pink cosmos swaying gently, purple lavender humming with bees, golden sunflowers standing tall under the noon sun.
Butterflies drifted lazily between the blooms.
The breeze carried the sweet, living scent of it all.
Emilia rested her chin lightly on Subaru’s shoulder, the flower crown she wore brushing his cheek.
Subaru reached up and laced his fingers through hers where they rested against his chest.
They stayed like that—quiet, close, perfectly matched in their crowns of each other’s colors.
No words were needed.
The garden, the sunlight, the steady rhythm of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies pressed together—it was enough.
More than enough.
Emilia’s arms tightened around Subaru from behind, her cheek pressing gently against the side of his head, right beside the orange-and-white crown she’d placed there.
The warmth of his back seeped through his tracksuit into her chest, steady and real, like an anchor in the middle of a sea of flowers.
This is him. Right here. In my arms.
Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since the kiss—since she had kissed him first.
The memory of his lips, soft and surprised and then so perfectly yielding, still tingled on her own.
She had done that.
She had chosen that.
And he had let her. Welcomed her.
A quiet, fluttering joy bloomed behind her ribs, so big it almost hurt.
He’s so warm… she thought, eyes drifting closed for a moment.
Even warmer than the sun.
And he smells like fresh laundry and grass and… Subaru.
She breathed him in slowly, memorizing it.
I could stay like this forever.
Just holding him. Just feeling him breathe.
She felt the slight rise and fall of his chest against her forearms, the way his heartbeat thudded strong and a little fast—almost as fast as hers.
It made her smile into his hair.
I used to be afraid of wanting things like this, she realized.
Afraid that if I reached out, everything would disappear.
That I didn’t deserve it.
But he… he stayed.
He always stayed.
And now I’m the one holding on.
The thought made her arms tighten again, just a fraction more.
Protective. Possessive in the gentlest way.
He’s mine to hold now, she thought, soft wonder threading through the words.
And I’m his.
And it feels… right.
More right than anything ever has.
She opened her eyes and looked out over the endless field of flowers—the colors they had chosen for each other reflected back at them in every direction.
Purple and pink for her.
Orange and white for him.
Matching.
Belonging.
I love this, she thought, the word slipping into her mind so naturally she almost didn’t notice it at first.
Then she did.
And her heart stuttered, bright and terrified and impossibly happy.
I love this.
I love… him.
The realization settled over her like sunlight—warm, inevitable, beautiful.
She pressed a small, secret kiss to the back of his head, right beneath the crown.
Yes, she thought, smiling against his hair.
I love him.
Subaru let himself sink back completely into Emilia’s embrace, shoulders relaxing, head tipping just enough to rest against her collarbone.
Holy crap… she kissed me.
She kissed me first.
And now she’s hugging me like she never wants to let go.
His heart was doing cartwheels, backflips, entire gymnastics routines.
He was pretty sure it had left his body five minutes ago and was currently orbiting the sun.
This is real. This is happening.
Emilia-tan—my Emilia-tan—kissed me.
And now she’s holding me like I’m something precious.
He swallowed thickly, trying not to let the sudden sting behind his eyes turn into actual tears.
(He was only partially successful.)
She feels so small around me… but also so strong.
Like she could protect the entire world if she wanted to.
And right now, she’s protecting me.
Just by being here. Just by wanting me.
He felt her heartbeat against his back—quick, fluttering, matching his own chaotic rhythm.
It made him want to laugh and cry at the same time.
I used to think I’d never get this, he thought, throat tight.
That I’d always be the one chasing, the one hoping, the one loving from a distance.
But she… she reached for me.
She chose me. First.
The thought was so big, so overwhelming, that he had to close his eyes for a second, just breathing her in—lavender, flowers, sunlight, everything soft and good in the world.
I don’t deserve this, a small, old part of him whispered.
And then her arms tightened, and that voice went quiet.
Maybe I do, he thought instead, tentative but growing surer with every heartbeat.
Maybe I finally do.
He felt the crown on his head shift slightly as he leaned back more fully into her embrace.
Orange and white—colors she had chosen.
For him.
She made this for me.
She looked at all these flowers and thought of me.
And then she kissed me.
And now she’s holding me like I’m home.
A soft, shaky laugh escaped him—more breath than sound.
I’m so in love with her it’s ridiculous, he thought, grinning helplessly into the distance.
And she… she might be falling too.
Or maybe she already has.
The idea made his chest ache in the best possible way.
Whatever this is… whatever comes next… I’m not letting go.
He laced his fingers more tightly with hers where they rested over his heart.
I love you, Emilia, he thought, the words too big and too new to say out loud just yet.
But he felt them.
Every single one.
And in the quiet of the flower garden, with her arms around him and the sun on their faces, he knew she felt them too.
After a couple of minutes of comfortable silence, wrapped in each other’s warmth with the flower-scented breeze drifting over them, Emilia shifted slightly behind Subaru.
Her chin rested more firmly on his shoulder, arms still looped securely around his chest, fingers tracing absent little patterns over his tracksuit.
“H-hey, Subaru…” she began, voice soft and a little hesitant, the faintest tremor of nerves threading through it.
Subaru tilted his head just enough to glance at her from the corner of his eye, the orange crown still sitting slightly askew on his dark hair.
“Hm?”
“Remember… when we first kissed? And that… embarrassing misunderstanding I had?”
Subaru’s shoulders shook with a quiet, fond chuckle almost immediately.
The memory hit him like sunlight—Emilia, wide-eyed and utterly serious, asking in complete innocence if kissing meant they were going to have a baby right then and there.
He had laughed so hard he’d nearly fallen over, then spent the next ten minutes trying (and failing) not to die of embarrassment for her while explaining the birds and the bees in the gentlest way possible.
“Yeah,” he said, grin widening despite the flush creeping up his neck.
“How could I forget? You were so earnest about it. ‘Subaru, does this mean we’re parents now?’ I thought my heart was gonna explode from how cute you were.”
Emilia buried her face against the side of his neck, cheeks instantly flaming.
“Don’t tease me…” she mumbled into his skin, voice muffled and pouty.
“I didn’t know! No one ever explained it to me properly…”
“I know, I know,” he said quickly, laughter softening into something warmer.
“It was adorable. Still is.”
She huffed quietly, but didn’t pull away.
After a beat, she lifted her head again, resting her chin back on his shoulder so she could see the side of his face.
“I’ve… learned a lot since then,” she continued, quieter now.
Her fingers stilled on his chest.
“And s-since now I know that kissing doesn’t make babies… and that they feel really good…”
Subaru’s breath hitched.
He felt the shift in her tone—the shy courage behind it—and his own heart gave a hard, anticipatory thud.
Emilia swallowed, cheeks burning brighter.
“Is it… o-okay if we do it again?”
For a second Subaru didn’t move.
Then slowly—very slowly—he turned his head further, enough that their faces were only inches apart.
His eyes were wide, pupils dark with sudden, overwhelming want.
A flush spread across his cheeks, deep and unmistakable.
“…Emilia-tan,” he breathed, voice low and rough.
“You’re asking me for more kisses?”
She nodded, tiny and certain, eyes shimmering.
Subaru’s smile broke wide and helpless, boyish and smitten all at once.
“Of course,” he said instantly.
“Of course it’s okay. God, yes. In fact…”
He laughed softly, the sound shaky with joy and nerves.
“I might not be able to stop if you give me permission for more. I’ll probably get addicted. Fair warning.”
Emilia’s tension dissolved into a bright, relieved giggle—light and musical, bubbling up from somewhere deep and happy inside her.
The sound made Subaru’s heart do another flip.
She leaned in first—slowly this time, giving him every chance to meet her halfway.
Their lips met again.
Softer than the first kiss.
Slower. Sweeter.
Subaru sighed into it, one hand coming up to cradle the side of her face while the other stayed laced with hers over his chest.
Emilia tilted her head, deepening the kiss just a little, tasting the faint sweetness of flowers and sunlight on him.
When they parted—only barely, foreheads resting together—both were flushed, breathing uneven, smiling like idiots.
Emilia giggled again, soft and giddy, and buried her face against his shoulder in happy embarrassment.
Subaru turned in her arms just enough to pull her closer, letting her spoon him more fully while he nestled back against her chest.
They stayed like that—crowned in each other’s flowers, wrapped in each other’s warmth, watching the endless sea of color sway gently in the breeze.
No more words for a long while.
Just quiet, contented breathing.
Just the steady knowledge that this—whatever “this” was—was finally, beautifully real.
After they parted from the second kiss, lips barely an inch apart, Emilia’s face was a furnace.
The bold words she’d just spoken still echoed in her own ears—“Is it okay if we do it again?”—and the realization of how forward she’d been hit her like a sudden gust of wind.
She ducked her head, silver hair falling forward to curtain her burning cheeks.
“I… I can’t believe I said that out loud,” she mumbled, half-hiding her face against Subaru’s shoulder.
Subaru’s own blush, which had barely started to fade, roared back twice as strong.
His ears were practically glowing.
“Emilia-tan…” he managed, voice cracking with a mix of awe and nervous delight, “you’re killing me. Asking for more like that? With that face? I’m gonna combust.”
Emilia peeked up at him through her lashes, eyes shimmering with a shy, newfound courage.
“But… I still want more,” she whispered, the admission so quiet it was almost lost in the breeze.
Subaru swallowed hard.
“Yeah?” he breathed.
“Then… yeah. Please.”
She didn’t hesitate this time.
Her hands slid up to cradle his face again, thumbs brushing his cheekbones as she leaned in once more.
Their lips met—slower, deeper, a little less tentative now that the first barriers had fallen.
Subaru let out a soft, involuntary sound against her mouth, one hand coming up to tangle gently in her silver hair.
The kiss stretched, sweet and lingering, until air became necessary.
They parted with matching gasps, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other’s air.
But Emilia wasn’t done.
A dozen or so minutes later, Subaru was beet red from ears to collar, eyes dazed and lips swollen and tingling.
He was lying back in the grass now, propped up slightly on his elbows, while Emilia hovered over him—straddling his waist in the most innocent, affectionate way possible—peppering kisses across his face.
Cheek. Jaw. Corner of his mouth. Tip of his nose. Forehead. Back to his lips.
Each one soft, eager, delighted.
Subaru let out a breathless laugh between kisses.
“I—I joked that I’d get addicted, but… holy crap, Emilia-tan… I think I’ve awakened something terrifying inside you.”
She paused just long enough to look down at him, cheeks flushed but eyes sparkling with mischief and joy.
“Maybe,” she murmured, brushing her nose against his.
“But you don’t seem to mind.”
“Mind?” He laughed again, dazed and helpless.
“Death by lack of oxygen at the hands of an angel doesn’t sound too bad, honestly.”
Emilia giggled—bright, happy, completely unguarded—and dove back in.
Another kiss.
Then another.
Then another.
Soft at first, then deeper, hungrier, her hands sliding to cup the sides of his neck while his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.
The flower field swayed gently around them, petals drifting lazily in the breeze like pastel confetti.
Butterflies floated past.
The sun poured golden warmth over their entwined forms, catching on the mismatched crowns still perched crookedly on their heads.
Somewhere in the distance, birds sang.
But closer—much closer—there was only the quiet rustle of fabric, the soft catch of breath between kisses, the tiny, happy sounds they made against each other’s lips.
The sound of passionate kissing filled the garden—slow, sweet, endless.
And neither of them wanted it to stop.