Chapter Text
Sumeru greeted them with green.
Not the polite green of gardens, but the overwhelming kind, canopies layered upon canopies, vines crawling over stone, air thick with humidity and quiet life. The Akademiya loomed in the distance, pristine and imposing, its white structures cutting sharply through the jungle’s softness.
Sandrone hated it immediately.
“Too many variables,” she muttered, adjusting the strap of her equipment case. “Humidity interferes with machinery. The terrain is inefficient. And the scholars stare.”
“They always stare,” Columbina replied mildly.
She walked a half-step behind Sandrone, hands folded behind her back, eyes drifting upward toward the canopy as if she were listening to something only she could hear.
Sandrone glanced back.
“Don’t wander,” she snapped. “This place is crawling with—”
“I know,” Columbina said calmly. “Life.”
Sandrone grimaced.
“That’s what I meant.”
They passed under the outer archway of the Akademiya, and the shift was immediate. Conversations dipped. Footsteps slowed. A few scholars turned outright, their expressions flickering between curiosity and unease.
Whispers followed.
“…Is that—”
“No, it can’t be—”
“She wouldn’t just walk in—”
Sandrone straightened instinctively, chin lifting, gaze sharp and unapologetic. She didn’t slow down. She never did. If they were going to look, she’d give them something worth looking at.
Columbina noticed everything.
She noticed the way people leaned away from her path without realizing it. The way some scholars averted their eyes while others stared too long, as if trying to reconcile her gentle expression with the warnings etched into their memory.
She leaned closer to Sandrone, just enough that their sleeves brushed.
Sandrone stiffened.
“…What are you doing,” she muttered.
“Walking,” Columbina replied sweetly.
“You don’t need to be that close.”
Columbina tilted her head.
“You didn’t move away.”
Sandrone scowled and kept walking.
That was answer enough.
Inside the Akademiya, they were ushered, politely, nervously, into a consultation chamber. Scrolls lined the walls. Mechanisms hummed softly overhead, Sumeru’s pride on display.
A senior scholar cleared his throat.
“Lady Sandrone,” he began, voice measured. “We appreciate your… willingness to consult.”
Sandrone crossed her arms.
“Get to the point.”
The scholar swallowed.
“We’ve encountered an issue with an autonomous archive system. It’s… behaving unpredictably.”
Sandrone’s eyes flicked to the schematic already laid out.
“…Your calibration is flawed,” she said instantly. “You prioritized adaptability over obedience. Amateur mistake.”
A murmur rippled through the room.
Columbina smiled faintly.
“That was fast,” she said.
Sandrone shot her a look.
“Don’t encourage them.”
Columbina leaned against the table, unbothered.
“I like watching you work,” she said.
Sandrone froze for half a second barely perceptible but the scholar closest to them noticed. He noticed how Sandrone’s shoulders eased, just a fraction, when Columbina spoke.
“Right,” Sandrone said briskly, bending over the schematic. “Hand me the adjustment tool.”
A junior researcher rushed forward, nearly tripping over himself. He handed her the tool and lingered.
Too close.
Sandrone didn’t notice. She was already deep in calculation, fingers moving with practiced precision.
The researcher leaned in.
“This is incredible,” he said, eyes bright. “I’ve read your work for years—”
His hand lifted, instinctive, gesturing toward the diagram.
And brushed Sandrone’s wrist.
The air changed.
Columbina’s smile didn’t vanish.
It hardened.
Not sharp. Not angry. Just… distant. Like the moon slipping behind a cloud.
Sandrone felt it before she saw it.
“…Step back,” she said coolly not to the researcher, but without looking away from her work.
The researcher hesitated.
Columbina spoke instead.
“You don’t need to be that close,” she said gently.
Her tone was soft. Pleasant.
Unmistakably final.
The researcher laughed nervously and retreated.
Sandrone straightened slowly.
She turned, not to the scholar, but to Columbina.
“…Was that necessary?” she muttered.
Columbina met her gaze.
“Yes.”
Sandrone frowned.
“You’re being unreasonable.”
Columbina’s eyes searched her face.
“They touched you.”
Sandrone scoffed.
“It was incidental.”
Columbina tilted her head.
“I didn’t like it.”
The words were simple. Honest.
Sandrone felt something twist in her chest.
“…You’re overreacting,” she said, quieter now.
Columbina stepped closer, voice low enough that only Sandrone could hear.
“I’ve watched stars collapse without feeling anything,” she said. “This bothered me.”
Sandrone inhaled sharply.
“…You can’t threaten people just because you’re jealous.”
Columbina smiled faintly.
“I didn’t threaten him.”
Sandrone glanced back at the researcher, who was now very deliberately not looking in their direction.
“…You frightened him.”
Columbina shrugged.
“Good.”
Sandrone groaned softly and turned back to the mechanism.
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re very touchable today,” Columbina replied innocently.
Sandrone nearly dropped the tool.
“…What.”
Columbina leaned in, lips near Sandrone’s ear.
“Everyone keeps wanting to be near you,” she murmured. “I don’t like sharing.”
Sandrone’s ears burned.
“Stop saying things like that in public.”
Columbina smiled.
“You didn’t say stop feeling them.”
Sandrone’s grip tightened.
“…Focus,” she muttered. “We’re working.”
Columbina straightened, obedient for now.
But she stayed close. Closer than before.
And everyone noticed.
By the time they left the Akademiya, the whispers had changed.
Not who are they?
But what are they?
Outside, under the filtered light of the canopy, Sandrone finally exhaled.
“…You caused unnecessary tension.”
Columbina hummed.
“You didn’t mind.”
Sandrone turned sharply.
“I did.”
Columbina looked at her calmly.
“You didn’t let go of my hand.”
Sandrone looked down.
She was still holding it.
“…Tch.”
She didn’t release it.
“Next time,” Sandrone said stiffly, “don’t glare at people like you’re deciding whether they deserve to exist.”
Columbina smiled softly.
“I wasn’t deciding,” she said. “I already knew.”
Sandrone sighed.
“…This trip is going to be a disaster.”
Columbina squeezed her hand.
“I think,” she said gently, “it’s going to be memorable.”
Sandrone didn’t answer.
To be continued……