Archive of Our Own

They said the dragon living at the top of the mountain kept their village safe from the threats of nature, and that was why they could live a peaceful and prosperous life in the middle of such an inhospitable place.

The deal had been sealed many years before—decades before Kazuma was even born: every month, the village would make an offering of food, clothes, medicine, and books, among other things, leaving it at the entrance of his temple at the top of the mountain. And, in exchange, the dragon would use his magic to protect them. A fair deal, which made the villagers love and fear the dragon as something close to a god.

However, as autumn slowly started to give way to winter, the cold and harsh winds hit the village, threatening to ruin their harvest and bring sickness with them. Such a thing hadn’t happened in a long time, and it immediately sent the villagers into a panic.

That night, the villagers gathered at the inn to discuss what to do about their predicament.

“We’ve done something to anger him,” said the baker. “Maybe a spoiled offering, or something like that.”

“That’s impossible!” said the farmer. “I checked every single produce and only sent him the best of what we had. It must be something else.”

“Like what?” asked the tailor. “I made sure my sewing was flawless too, so don’t look at me.”

The villagers debated for a long while, and Kazuma watched them quietly. As the adopted son of the village’s doctor, he and his little sister would often cross the limits of the village to forage for medicinal herbs and ingredients, and craft medicine from them; not only that, but they had been the ones responsible for bringing the offerings to the temple’s entrance for the past two years. So, it was just a matter of time before someone tried to blame them for their misfortune. He glanced at Susato, who met his gaze with equal uneasiness.

As if noticing their apprehension, their father, Mikotoba, placed his hands on their shoulders, lightly squeezing them. He would be on their side, Kazuma knew it… But the possibility of causing trouble for the man who so kindly took him in was always a cause of anxiety for him.

Before the accusations came, however, the head priest raised his voice, grabbing the villagers’ attention.

“Perhaps there were no mistakes made in the offerings, and instead, we have failed our protector in a different sense.”

He paused, and every pair of eyes was on him, waiting anxiously for the answer.

“In what sense, then?” asked the baker. “Please say it, father.”

The priest gestured, asking for patience. “What I’m saying is, now that the years have passed and the old grief has faded, perhaps it is time for us to offer the dragon a new bride.”

Silence filled the inn, those words making everyone hold their breaths. Many years before, the dragon had taken an interest in the priestess who was sent to make the offerings, asking her to become his bride—which she accepted, spending her days in the temple. At first, she came back to the village once every month to visit her family and friends, but then she suddenly stopped coming, and the dragon kept her all to himself for the rest of her days. They only learned of her passing when they found a letter she wrote before her death inside the offerings chest, alongside her family pendant. The dragon never returned her body, and no one had the courage to request him to do so.

After her passing, the villagers would send young and beautiful women to the mountain, with the mission to offer themselves as new brides to the dragon. The offers, however, were never accepted, and the dragon refused to even open the door to look at the girls, sending them back to the village. After many failed attempts, the offers gradually stopped, since they didn’t want to risk angering their protector.

And yet, they couldn’t avoid his fury completely—or else, why would the deal be broken like that? The dragon certainly was unhappy with something, but a bride meant…

“But, father…” The farmer struggled to find the proper words. “The dragon refused so many of our girls… What if the offer offends him even more?”

“It is a risk,” the priest admitted. “But, at the very least, the chosen girl would have the chance to ask the dragon what it is that he wants.”

“Hold on…” The blacksmith crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “That’d also risk turning the poor girl into a scapegoat for the dragon’s fury, wouldn’t it? If anything, we should send a group of soldiers armed with the best equipment I have.”

“But wouldn’t the dragon see it as a provocation?” asked the farmer. “What if he decides we are dangerous and attacks us?”

“The priest is right…” said the hunter. “If one single life can save our entire village, then we should do it.”

His words made the farmer glare at him, placing his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Are you willing to send one of your daughters, then? Because I’m not sending my girl to that mountain!”

The argument continued, louder and more aggressive with each exchanged word.

“This is horrible…”

Susato’s low voice made Kazuma and Mikotoba look at her.

“It is,” Mikotoba sighed. “We should be worried about our survival, not wondering if we should sacrifice one of our own to that dragon.”

Kazuma agreed. They shouldn’t even be considering such an old and terrible custom anymore: forcing someone to marry against their will was already bad enough, but to force them to leave the village and their lives behind to offer themselves to a dragon? That shouldn’t even be an option.

“Is there something we can do?” he asked.

Mikotoba thought briefly, then stood from his seat, speaking above the noise that filled the inn.

“I agree that we should send someone,” he said. “Not soldiers, nor a defenseless girl. Someone who can talk to the dragon without raising his fury, and get the answers we need to solve this problem.”

“Oh, sure… Let’s talk with the dragon.” The hunter sneered. “Are you volunteering, doctor?”

“I am willing to go if this might help us all.”

Mikotoba’s calm response silenced the hunter, who looked away. The resolution in his voice made Kazuma’s stomach turn.

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

“Me too,” Susato agreed.

“No,” said Mikotoba patiently. “You should stay here and watch over the clinic in my place.”

“Then, at least take me with you,” asked Kazuma. “I can help carry the offerings.”

Mikotoba considered it for a moment, but before he could give his answer, the baker spoke again.

“I still think the priest’s plan is better,” he said. “If anyone has a chance of calming down a dragon, it would be a kind and beautiful young woman. The dragon has been kind to us all this time… I doubt he would hurt an innocent girl for no reason.”

“And, if nothing else, he might see the offer as a gesture of goodwill on our part,” said the tailor.

“Precisely,” said the priest. “Right now, what we need to do is show the dragon that we are willing to restore his trust in us, no matter the cost.”

“Even if the cost is one of our girls?” asked the farmer with a sharp voice.

“It’s either that or losing all of our girls to the winter,” said the hunter. “I’m not happy with this either, but the right choice seems obvious to me.”

The blacksmith grunted. “Once again, the doctor proved he has more brain and heart than most of you bastards.”

The argument escalated, threatening to break into a fight as the ones involved got more and more heated. Suddenly, Susato stood from her chair, raising her voice.

“Stop!” she yelled. “I’ll do it.”

Kazuma’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. The entire place went quiet, all eyes turning to look at Susato.

“Susato,” said Mikotoba, a slight strain in his calm words. “You don’t need to do this.”

She shook her head. “Someone has to. And I’d rather it be me than someone else.”

Before either of them could argue, the hunter spoke again.

“See?” He gestured at Susato. “Here is a girl who truly cares about her people. If anyone can calm that dragon, it’s her.”

“But we should be protecting her, not…” The farmer stopped, glancing at his daughter. “This is wrong.”

“This is her choice,” said the priest. “And we should honor her selflessness.”

Anger boiled inside Kazuma. “Her sacrifice, you mean?”

“I insist that I should go instead,” said Mikotoba. “I will talk to the dragon and come back with the answers we need.”

Kazuma was about to agree, but a light touch on his arm called his attention.

“Father, Kazuma…” Susato forced a smile. “It’s alright. I can do this.”

Kazuma and Mikotoba weren’t the only ones against that plan: others, like the farmer and the blacksmith, also voiced their discontent. But their protests were covered by the voices of those who were in favor of that plan—some of them seeming relieved that the chosen girl wasn’t their daughter, sister, or loved one.

They left the inn with a horrible weight on their shoulders. Mikotoba didn’t eat much at dinner, and when he wished them a good night and moved to his bedroom, he seemed a decade older than he was. Kazuma’s heart tightened, and he couldn’t help but approach Susato one last time.

“You really don’t need to do this,” he said.

Susato shook her head. “It has already been decided… Even if I wanted to give up, it’s too late now. And I don’t want to.”

Kazuma sighed, then pulled his sister into a tight hug. “You’re too brave for your own good, you know?”

“I learned it from you.” She rested her head on his chest, staying like that for a while. “Kazuma… Can you go with me to the entrance? It should make things a little easier.”

Kazuma looked at her, forcing a smile. “I would go even if you hadn’t asked me to.”

Susato returned the smile. “Thank you.”

He wanted to say something else but couldn’t find the words. By all gods, it was hard to keep smiling.

“You should go to sleep now,” he said, finally. “It’s a long walk to the temple.”

“You’re right.” She stopped, hesitating briefly. “Can I…”

Her voice faded, and she lowered her eyes.

“Yes?” said Kazuma.

“Can I sleep in your bedroom tonight?”

Her weak, slightly trembling voice crushed his heart.

“Of course.”

It had been years since they last shared a bed like that. When she was a little kid, Susato would always come to him when she had a nightmare, and Kazuma would hold her hand until she fell asleep. He never said it to her, but that trust had meant so much to him, especially when he still felt like an intruder in their family.

He observed her sleeping face for a while. They had lived together for over ten years, so she was a little sister to him in everything but blood—a sister, but also one of his closest friends. And she was only sixteen… He couldn’t simply allow her to offer herself as a bride to a creature she had never seen before and who, in its rage and jealousy, could bring her harm.

She was so clearly terrified… And who wouldn’t be in her place?

Kazuma leaned in her direction, kissing her forehead before carefully leaving the bed. He changed into warmer clothes and wore his boots, filling his bag with water and some food for that brief trip. Then he left the house, grabbing the heavy bundle of offerings by their door, using the thick fabric to tie it to his back. He glanced up, then, with a deep breath, started that long walk toward the temple.

He would talk to the dragon, like Mikotoba had planned to. If anything, that creature had been reasonable enough to agree to that deal with the village. As long as Kazuma could find something to offer in return, the dragon should be willing to make another one.

The cold of the late night made him shiver despite his warm clothes, but he managed to walk the entire way to the gate guarding the long stairway to the temple. Usually, they would leave the offerings there, in a heavy chest by the entrance. That time, however, he thought it would be better to have something with him to offer the dragon as a sign of peace.

Despite the many times he had come to that entrance, it was the first time Kazuma walked past it, climbing those rough stone steps. The weight of the offerings slowed him down, and the cold made breathing almost painful. Those stairs didn’t seem to end… He had to stop halfway to catch his breath and let his legs rest, taking a sip of water as well. If the dragon had to make that long trip down and up those stairs every time they left him an offering, Kazuma could think of at least one reason why he would be dissatisfied.

Well… For Susato, he would climb those damn stairs every single day if the dragon so wished.

An eternity seemed to have passed before Kazuma finally reached that temple. He took a few deep breaths to recompose while examining those tall stone doors.

What now? He had been so focused on the journey that he hadn’t considered how he should address the dragon when he finally arrived.

“Hello?” he called. “I’m from the village, and I’m here to talk… I brought you an offering.”

Silence. Had the dragon not heard him, or was he simply ignoring Kazuma’s words?

“Are you in there?” Kazuma tried again. “Please, let me in.”

Nothing. He tried a few more times, but not even once did the dragon respond. Not wanting to go back like that, Kazuma placed his hands on the cold surface of the door, pushing it. It was heavy but wasn’t locked. Soon, Kazuma managed to push it far enough to be able to squeeze through—so he did, before the fear could get to him.

“Excuse me,” he murmured as he walked in.

The temple seemed empty—or, more accurately, as if it had been abandoned for at least a few months. Kazuma’s stomach dropped.

“Hello?” he called again. “I came to talk to the dragon.”

He left the heavy offerings and his bag on the floor, then crossed that temple with slow steps, glancing around. The stone walls were taller than any building in the village and carried detailed carvings that, despite the effects of time, were still an impressive sight. There was furniture and a few closed doors that Kazuma considered checking, but then he noticed the cold wind that came from the back of the temple. He ran toward the back door, realizing that it was slightly open. Without thinking, he went outside, being greeted by the strong wind and a dead garden covered by snow. At the far back of it was what seemed like a pair of stone graves, and before them…

Kazuma’s heart jumped. There was someone lying on the ground before those graves, their body partially covered by snow. Kazuma rushed to their side, shaking their arm.

“Hey…” he called. “Are you alright?”

No response, and for a moment, Kazuma feared the worst. He turned that person up, then brought his fingers to his neck, feeling a light pulse. He let out his breath and only then took a better look at that man.

Kazuma was so relieved that it took him a moment to understand why the man’s appearance seemed strange. He had a human face, but dark blue scales partially covered his skin, especially closer to his neck. There was a volume under the hood of his cloak, which he soon understood were horns. And there, on the ground next to Kazuma, was a thick tail covered in blue scales.

Was he the dragon? He certainly wasn’t human, but… He still looked more human than beast.

The cold wind brought Kazuma back from his thoughts. He could wonder about that strange man as much as he wanted later—for the moment, he had to get him inside and out of that cold.

He placed the man’s arm over his shoulders, then, with some effort, pulled him up, dragging him inside the temple. Carefully, he placed the man down, with his back against the wall, while he closed the door and thought of what to do next.

Kazuma approached a door, which led to the kitchen; he opened the next one and was glad to see it was a bedroom. He returned to the unconscious man, then carried him to the bed, taking off his freezing coat and laying him down. He reached for his shoes, only to realize he wasn’t wearing any: his feet were like claws and covered in scales. Kazuma examined him for a moment: like his face, his arms and hands were only partially covered in scales, and the rest was a skin so pale that, once again, Kazuma wondered if he was still alive.

But his chest was moving up and down, so Kazuma rushed to the wardrobe, grabbing some blankets to cover his body with. He touched the man’s face: despite the cold on the surface, there was a strong heat coming from him. A fever, maybe… Not surprising, given the condition he was in when Kazuma found him. Thankfully, he should have some medicine among those offerings he brought.

Before fetching the medicine, however, he leaned close to that man. He couldn’t help but examine those scales for a moment: they had a deep, beautiful indigo color—mostly blue, but with a hint of purple. Could he really be the dragon? Kazuma forced himself to look away, focusing on his closed eyes.

“Can you hear me?”

He knew there would be no answer, but was still disappointed. What else should he do? He left the bedroom, grabbing his bag before returning, taking his flask of water from inside. Slow and carefully, he allowed a few drops to fall inside the man’s mouth. There was no response at first, but then the man’s face twitched, and he coughed weakly. Kazuma placed the flask on the bedside table, then helped the man sit up and catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

The man looked at him with eyes of an icy silver color and vertical pupils, full of suspicion. “Who… Who are you? Why are you—”

He coughed again, and Kazuma lightly patted his back.

“Slow down… My name’s Kazuma. I came to talk to you, but I found you collapsed outside.” He paused, examining the man’s face. “How are you feeling?”

But the man continued to stare at him with narrowed eyes. “A human should not be up here…”

“I know,” Kazuma admitted. “Sorry for intruding, but no one responded when I called, and I wondered if something was—”

“Leave,” the man interrupted him.

Kazuma blinked, taken aback. “Sir, with all due respect, you’re in no condition to be alone. I’ll leave you in peace once you’re feeling better.”

The man grunted but didn’t argue. Kazuma glanced at his horns, hesitating a little before asking what had been in his mind all that time.

“You are the dragon, aren’t you?”

“Do I look like a human to you?”

“More than I thought you would.”

The dragon scowled. “This is but one of my many shapes. If it offends you, then you are free to look away.”

That was unnecessarily rude… Keeping in mind that the dragon had almost frozen to death, Kazuma chose not to respond to those sharp words, instead forcing a slight smile.

“Are you hungry? I have some food with me.”

The dragon stayed silent for a while before muttering his response, “Water.”

“Here.”

Kazuma gave him his flask, and the dragon took it with shaky hands. He considered helping him but felt like the gesture would only irritate the dragon even more. So, he simply watched in silence while the dragon drank, pretending not to see a few drops of water rolling down toward his chin. The dragon quickly dried them with the back of his hand, returning the flask to Kazuma.

“Do you need anything else?” asked Kazuma.

“I am fine now. You may leave.”

“I’m not leaving yet.” He held back an exasperated sigh. “What if you collapse again, and no one’s here to help?”

“I shall be fine, I am a dragon.”

“And I’m as stubborn as a mule, so you shouldn’t waste what’s left of your energy arguing with me.”

The dragon deepened his scowl but said nothing else. He didn’t look like it in that state, but that was still a powerful magic creature that had watched over his village for entire decades. Maybe Kazuma should be a little more respectful…

“Your magic failed because you’re sick, right?” he asked in a softer voice. “If you don’t recover, my village will be in danger. So, I can’t leave you like this.”

“The village…” The dragon widened his eyes. “It… completely escaped my mind.”

So he had forgotten about it? Kazuma bit back a sharp response. “Please, do keep it in mind from now on. Our lives depend on you.”

The dragon lowered his gaze, as if ashamed. “My apologies. I shall deal with this situation as soon as I recover enough of my strength.”

Despite everything, it was hard to be angry at someone who so clearly regretted his mistakes.

“It’s fine,” said Kazuma. “We just have to make sure you recover soon.”

“I suppose.” The dragon observed him through narrowed eyes. “But keep your distance from me.”

Well, that was a first step.

“Alright,” said Kazuma. “But I’ll still need to come close sometimes. There are things you shouldn’t do on your own.”

“Just the absolutely necessary.”

“Sounds fair.” A thought crossed Kazuma’s mind. “Ah, right… What do you usually eat?”

“Probably the same things as you.”

“Alright… I’ll cook us something later, then.”

“Very well.”

He really wasn’t one for conversations, was he? But it made sense… In the eyes of such a powerful dragon, Kazuma probably looked like little more than a particularly loud and annoying bird. And he wouldn’t want to test the patience of that creature.

“I’ll let you rest for now, then,” he said.

The dragon nodded. Before Kazuma left the room, however, he spoke again.

“The room across from this one is empty. Feel free to rest for a while as well.” Then he added in a sharper voice. “Just don’t break anything.”

Kazuma looked at him, then offered a slight smile. “Thank you. I’ll be careful.”

He did as the dragon suggested, entering the bedroom. After taking off his boots and getting a blanket from the wardrobe, he allowed himself to fall upon the bed and let out a long sigh. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was from that trip until his muscles finally relaxed.

As tired as he was, however, he wasn’t able to fall asleep immediately. Mikotoba and Susato had probably noticed his absence by that point… They were worried, for sure. He wondered if he should have left them a note, but then concluded that it would have made little difference: there was only one place where he would have gone with the offerings.

He sighed, not only tired from the trip but also from the scare of finding the collapsed dragon. Hopefully, that creature would get better soon and use his magic before winter became harsher.

Kazuma woke up some time later, unsure of how long he had slept but feeling a little better. He left the bed, walking to the bedroom across from his.

The dragon was still asleep. Careful not to wake him, Kazuma moved closer, observing his face—still pale but no longer deathly so. He raised his hand, bringing it to the dragon’s forehead. Before he could touch him, however, the dragon opened his eyes and immediately slapped his hand away.

For a few seconds, neither of them said a word. The dragon was the first to avert his gaze.

“I told you to keep your distance.”

“I just wanted to check on your fever.”

“I am not as unwell as you seem to believe.”

Kazuma could feel his patience quickly reaching its limits. He took a deep breath, once again reminding himself that the fate of his village was in that creature’s hands.

“Is that so?” He managed a slight smile. “Can you just humor me, then?”

The dragon seemed about to protest, but, as if also reaching his limits, he turned his face away.

“So troublesome…” He let out a long sigh. “Just be done with it.”

Kazuma did as he said, checking his temperature: still high, as he thought… It would have been too easy if that dragon recovered in just a few hours. Before he could say anything, the dragon moved away from his touch.

“This is enough,” he said.

Kazuma creased his brow. “You understand that the faster you heal, the faster I’ll leave, don’t you? Just be patient for now.”

“If I must.”

But Kazuma didn’t try to touch him again. He still had a fever, so he had to think of ways to make that dragon feel better. Food, rest, medicine… What else?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of fists pounding against the stone doors of that temple.

“Kazuma!” Susato’s voice echoed far away. “Are you there?”

The dragon looked at Kazuma, narrowing his eyes. “More humans?”

“My family… I’ll talk to them.”

“Tell them to leave.” The dragon paused, then added before he left the room. “And not a word about my condition.”

“I know.”

Kazuma rushed to the entrance, pulling the heavy door open. Susato and Mikotoba were there, and relief took their faces when they saw him. Mikotoba took a step forward, holding Kazuma by the shoulder.

“Are you hurt?”

Kazuma shook his head. “No, everything is fine.”

Mikotoba nodded, his expression becoming more serious. “What were you thinking, leaving in the middle of the night?”

“Do you know how worried we were?” added Susato.

Kazuma knew that was coming and didn’t blame them—he would have felt the same way in their places. But he didn’t lower his head, responding as honestly as he could.

“Sorry, but I couldn’t let Susato come on her own.”

“Then, why did you come here alone?” As she asked that question, Susato’s eyes grew wider. “Don’t tell me… you offered yourself in my…?”

“No, nothing like that,” Kazuma reassured her. “The dragon is… he needs some help in the temple, so I might have to spend some time here. It’ll help restore the barrier.”

“Then, I’m staying too,” she said.

“No, I…” Kazuma paused, the dragon’s words returning to his mind. “I think one human is already almost unbearable to him.”

Susato wanted to protest, but Mikotoba placed a hand on her shoulder, looking at Kazuma.

“Are you sure you will be fine?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“When are you coming back?”

Kazuma was about to estimate, when it crossed his mind that a dragon’s body—and its ailments—should be considerably different from a human’s.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Hopefully it won’t take long, but… I can’t say for sure. As soon as I’m no longer needed here, I’ll leave.”

Susato didn’t seem pleased, but Mikotoba nodded, stepping away from Kazuma.

“Very well,” said Mikotoba. “If you say you are here of your own free will, then I’ll believe you.” He paused, observing his son for a moment longer. “Just… Be careful.”

Kazuma forced a smile. “Leave it to me.”

After giving his arm a few light pats, Mikotoba turned around, starting that long descent. Before following him, Susato stepped closer to Kazuma, speaking under her breath.

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

Kazuma simply patted her head in response. “Just take care of the clinic until I come back.”

“Alright.” She sighed, then reached for his hand, squeezing it. “I’ll be waiting.”

Kazuma watched as they walked away, waving at Susato when she looked over her shoulder. He then closed that heavy door, moving back to the bedroom, where the dragon awaited with an anxious expression.

“Are they gone?”

“Yes,” said Kazuma. “I wasn’t supposed to have come, so they were worried.”

“I see. It makes sense… Only a fool would enter a dragon’s home uninvited.”

His words were so unnecessarily blunt that they formed a crack in Kazuma’s politeness when he responded.

“And this fool will now nurse you back to health, so maybe you should consider keeping your rude comments to yourself.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

To Kazuma’s surprise, as soon as he said those words, the dragon’s face was covered by something that resembled remorse.

“My apologies…” said the dragon in a lower voice. “You are right. This was… unnecessary.”

His apology was so genuine that Kazuma’s anger quickly faltered. So, instead, he dismissed the issue with a wave of his hand.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I guess everyone gets cranky when they’re sick.”

The dragon nodded, examining him quietly for a moment. “What was that about offering yourself to me?”

The straightforwardness of the question caught him off guard. “Ah… so you heard it.”

“Sound travels far in this place.”

He should have guessed… Not that he had shared any secrets with his family, or said anything to be embarrassed about. If anything, that was an easy misunderstanding to clear up.

“When the magic stopped,” he explained, “everyone thought you were displeased at us. Some people suggested sending you a new bride.”

“And they chose you?”

“No, they chose my sister. But I couldn’t let her come here alone, so…”

“You ran away from home?” the dragon guessed.

It made him sound like a rebellious child when he worded it in such a way… Kazuma shrugged. “I suppose you could say that.”

The dragon nodded, something in his expression suddenly darkening. “I have no interest in having a bride.”

“I see.” Kazuma hesitated, unsure if that was still a sore subject. “Do you still love your previous one?”

“My…?” The dragon’s expression shifted from confusion to surprise. “You mean Irene? Gods, no… She wasn’t my bride.”

“No?”

“No. She was my brother’s.”

Kazuma stared at him, speechless for a few seconds. “Your brother?”

“I suppose you wouldn’t know.” The dragon lowered his eyes, sadness permeating his voice. “Klint was the one who first conjured the barrier around your village. He raised me in this temple, then taught me how to do it myself.”

“I had no idea… I thought you did all that yourself.”

“No.” The dragon’s expression stiffened. “But it doesn’t matter now, my brother is already dead.”

Kazuma’s heart clenched. Those two graves, and how the dragon stayed there to the point of almost freezing… It made more sense now.

“I’m sorry.”

The dragon turned his face away. “I don’t need your sympathy.” He paused, adding in a softer tone. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The hint of vulnerability in his voice made him sound as human as Kazuma himself. That wasn’t a god, or an all-powerful being, like many believed: he was just someone grieving for those he loved, all alone in that isolated place.

“Isn’t it lonely?” asked Kazuma. “Living here on your own?”

The dragon didn’t respond immediately. “Yes… It was different when Klint was here, and then Irene. After their passing, this place…”

His words trailed off, but Kazuma could understand what he meant: without Mikotoba and Susato, his own home would feel cold and lifeless.

“Did you ever consider going out?” he asked.

The dragon scoffed. “Where to? Your village? Do you really think they would want me so close?”

“I don’t know…” Kazuma admitted. “Maybe they would.”

“You are the foolish one who approaches a dragon without fear. I suppose others are smarter than this.”

“You really can’t be nice, can you?”

The dragon didn’t respond—and, honestly, Kazuma wasn’t willing to start a fight with a sick magical being. So, instead, he changed the subject.

“You said your brother was named Klint… Does that mean you have a name too?”

“Of course I have a name.”

“Sorry, I don’t know much about dragons.”

“I can tell.” The dragon sighed, then responded. “It is Barok.”

And that was the second step forward—maybe things would work out, after all.

“Alright, Barok,” Kazuma smiled, this time a genuine one. “Glad I don’t need to think of you as ’the dragon’ anymore.”

“Perhaps I should start referring to you as ’the human’ from now on.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Time to change the subject again, it seemed. “So, Barok… Would you mind if I cleaned this place a little?”

Barok creased his brow. “Why are you asking such a thing?”

“Well… It seems like you didn’t have the best days lately, so I thought—”

“You are bored, are you not?”

Well, he did want to find something to do, yes. Back home, he was always busy with something, be it foraging or watching the clinic, so the thought of spending a long time in that empty temple was a little disheartening. But that wasn’t the main reason—it hadn’t even crossed his mind before Barok asked that question.

“Can’t you just let me do something nice for you?” asked Kazuma. “Maybe as a thanks for keeping my village safe all this time?”

Barok seemed uncertain, but ended up waving his hand toward Kazuma. “Do as you wish. There are cleaning supplies in the kitchen.”

“Alright.”

He left the bedroom, which brought him instant relief. Barok wasn’t as unpleasant as Kazuma feared, but talking to him was still far from easy. Not that it made any difference: even if that dragon were insufferable, Kazuma would still choose to care for him until his health improved, for his family’s sake.

And he was familiar enough with grief to sympathize with Barok’s situation. Even after losing his parents, Kazuma still had Mikotoba and Susato by his side, but that dragon… he had lost everything, hadn’t he?

Those thoughts made his heart sting. Kazuma shook his head, then walked straight to the kitchen, soon finding the cleaning supplies. He had always been a bit fussy when it came to cleaning, so seeing all that dust and cobwebs everywhere was stressing him out. He pulled up his sleeves, then started the cleaning process, soon realizing it would take him longer than he first guessed. Which was good—he welcomed every distraction during his stay.

Once he was done with the kitchen, he paused the cleaning to cook for them. He wasn’t sure of what someone like Barok would like to eat, so he made a simple stew, taking a generous plate to Barok once he was done.

“I brought you some food,” he said, stepping into the room.

The smell was enough to make Barok’s eyes light up, and Kazuma wondered how much time had passed since his last meal. He helped Barok sit, then placed the tray on his lap. With sluggish movements, the dragon began to eat.

“It has been a long time since I last tasted someone else’s cooking,” said Barok.

“I hope it’s to your liking.”

“It is quite appetizing.” He paused, glancing at Kazuma. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. And you need to regain your strength.” He thought for a moment. “Is there any food that you particularly like?”

“A few things come to mind.”

“If there’s anything you want me to make, just tell me. As long as I have the ingredients I need, I’ll do it.”

Barok stopped eating, keeping his eyes down. “You don’t need to do so much. Not for someone who neglected you and your village.”

“You had your reasons,” said Kazuma. “And I don’t blame you for it… I know how it feels to lose someone you love.”

The dragon’s impassive expression twitched a little. “I see.”

“Just focus on getting better. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Barok nodded silently, and Kazuma offered him a smile.

“I’ll come back later to clean your bedroom,” he said. “If you need anything, just call me.”

Barok seemed about to say something, but stopped himself, nodding once again. Kazuma didn’t say another word either, returning to the kitchen to have his meal and continue the long cleaning process.

Things weren’t much different the following few days. Barok still seemed quite displeased with Kazuma’s presence, but at the very least, he was accepting his help without those prideful retorts.

Surprisingly, Kazuma saw himself becoming quite fond of him: despite his powers and appearance, he wasn’t much different from a human. And, once he got more used to it, his stubbornness felt more endearing than annoying.

When Kazuma entered Barok’s bedroom that morning, however, the dragon seemed to be in a worse mood than usual. Concerned, Kazuma moved closer, feeling his forehead with his hand.

“Did your fever get worse?”

Barok let out a long groan. “Being trapped in this bed is a torment in itself.”

His almost childish response amused Kazuma. “Are you bored?”

“Quite so.”

“Want some company?”

“I wouldn’t subject you to something as unpleasant as my company.”

“Do you have to be that dramatic about everything?” Kazuma glanced around the room, his eyes soon falling upon the bookshelf. “Do you want me to read for you?”

Barok hesitated, then responded without looking at him. “If you don’t mind it.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did.” Kazuma walked to the bookshelf, examining the titles. “Any book you prefer?”

“You may choose it.”

“Alright, then…”

He chose one with an interesting title, then pulled the chair closer to the bed. He opened the book, turning the pages until he reached the first chapter. Then, he started to read.

He wasn’t the best storyteller but had some experience from the many bedtime stories he had told Susato growing up. Barok listened to him quietly for long minutes, until his voice suddenly interrupted that tale.

“Why are you doing this?”

Kazuma raised his eyes to him, slightly confused. “You said you were bored.”

The dragon wasn’t satisfied with the response. “I meant your motives. You need me alive for the barrier… Keeping me entertained is not necessary.”

Oh, so that was what he meant… “Maybe I just want to do something nice for you while you recover.”

He half expected the dragon to question him further, but instead, Barok lowered his eyes, thoughtful.

“I see…”

Kazuma had no idea what was going through his mind. So, instead of wondering, he leaned slightly in Barok’s direction, lightly touching his arm.

“I’ll stay here until you recover, so… There’s no reason for us not to be friendly with each other.”

“I understand.” He hesitated for a brief moment. “But it has been a long while since I last needed to be friendly… It does not come naturally to me, I’m afraid.”

His honest response amused Kazuma. “Take your time getting used to it.”

Barok nodded. “I haven’t said this before, but… I am grateful for what you are doing.”

“Good to know… I thought you hated me being here.”

“I would not call it hate. I am simply used to being alone.”

“Just endure it for a little longer. You will have your peace back in no time.” He paused, raising the book. “Until then, I can read for you whenever you want.”

“Very well.”

Kazuma soon resumed that tale, and this time, Barok didn’t interrupt him again.

Close to a month passed at that same slow pace. Barok’s disposition had improved significantly, but his body was still fairly weak. Accumulated grief, sickness, and self-neglect over a long period of time had taken their toll on him, and despite never mentioning it aloud, Kazuma wondered if, if he hadn’t come when he did, Barok would have met a fate similar to his brother’s. He tried not to think of it, glad that things seemed to be going quite well, all things considered.

Kazuma’s family also started to come to the temple’s doors to deliver those offerings as an excuse to check on Kazuma—mostly Susato, but Mikotoba sometimes came as well, when he could.

“Are you sure you are fine?” asked Susato, not for the first time. “It has been a long while already.”

“I am,” Kazuma reassured her. “I’m just not done here yet.”

She nodded, uncertain. “Alright… I’ll come see you again soon.”

“Be careful on your way down.”

It worried him to see her come all that way so frequently, but when he told Susato he could retrieve the offerings, she refused, saying it was the least she could do—perhaps because she still felt that was her duty and not his. Still, he wished he could at least invite her in for a few minutes… But Barok would never agree to that.

With a heavy heart, Kazuma entered the bedroom to check on Barok, only to find the dragon standing precariously, holding onto his desk to keep his balance. Startled, Kazuma rushed to his side, placing an arm around Barok’s waist to keep him steady.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a loud voice.

Barok averted his gaze, as if embarrassed for being caught like that. “Stretching my legs.”

“You can’t just stand up like this.”

“I couldn’t endure it any longer… My legs were so restless I couldn’t possibly relax.”

Kazuma met his gaze. “You should have called me, then. What if you lost your balance and fell?”

To his surprise, his words brought a faint smile to Barok’s lips.

“You are fussing over me again,” said Barok.

Kazuma shook his head, guiding Barok back to his bed. “Don’t I have enough reasons to?”

“You exaggerate.” Barok sat down, meeting Kazuma’s gaze. “I feel much better now.”

“You still shouldn’t exert yourself, though.”

“I know.”

He sounded disappointed. Kazuma observed him, then considered the situation for a while.

“It had stopped snowing when I went outside,” he said. “Do you want to go for a brief walk? I’ll serve as your support.”

The suggestion brightened Barok’s face. “Of course.”

He seemed so happy that Kazuma couldn’t help but smile. He helped Barok wear a heavy coat, then guided him out of the bedroom with slow steps, their arms linked. He opened the back door, and soon they were in that same place where Kazuma had first found him.

“I wish to see their graves,” said Barok.

“Of course.”

He guided Barok further back, until they reached that pair of stone graves. Barok stood there, eyes closed in what seemed like a prayer for long minutes. When he was done, he opened his eyes, letting out a long sigh.

“It seems I won’t be joining you for a while longer,” he murmured.

Before Kazuma could comment on those words, Barok let out a small grunt, covering his eyes with a hand. Kazuma instinctively tightened his grip on his arm.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Barok nodded. “Just slightly dizzy.”

“We should go back inside… Come, lean on me.”

Kazuma placed his arm around his waist, and Barok placed his over Kazuma’s shoulders. Slow step after slow step, they returned to that bedroom, and Kazuma helped him lie in bed again.

“It was good to walk out of this bedroom, even if for a few minutes,” said Barok.

“We can do it again tomorrow or after, if the weather is nice. And if you’re well-disposed.”

The suggestion seemed to please Barok. “I will look forward to it.”

“Just don’t try to leave your bed without my help again, alright?”

“As you wish.”

Kazuma creased his brow. “You say it as if I’m asking you a favor.”

Barok shook his head, seeming amused. “It has just been a long while since someone last cared so much about my health.”

“At least you’re getting used to it.”

“Yes… It is not unpleasant.”

“You could just say you like it…” Kazuma forced an exasperated sigh. “I will bring you food soon. Do you want a book?”

“Yes.” Barok thought briefly. “When you return, I will read it for you.”

His words caught Kazuma by surprise. “Read for me?”

“See it as me returning the favor.” He paused, suddenly hesitant. “Unless you don’t want it, of course.”

That offer brought a tingling sensation to Kazuma’s chest. “No, I want it.” He smiled as he left the room. “I’ll be back soon.”

As he walked to the kitchen, Kazuma brought a hand to his mouth, barely containing a small, pleased laugh. Barok could have his difficult moments, but he could also be incredibly sweet at times.

Close to three months after Kazuma’s arrival, Barok finally seemed to be close to his full recovery. That was a relief in many different ways: the weather was getting colder and harsher every day with winter’s arrival, so it was a relief to know soon the barrier around his village would be restored.

Most of all, however, Kazuma was glad to see that the dragon looked healthier and much more full of life than ever before. Despite knowing he needed time to recover, part of his mind kept worrying about the worst possibilities, making him fear Barok’s condition would suddenly take a turn for the worse. He had never been so glad to be proven wrong before.

He accompanied Barok on their almost daily walk that evening, noticing how he didn’t need to lean on Kazuma as much anymore. They still kept their arms linked the entire time, though—to Kazuma’s silent delight.

As if hearing his thoughts, Barok soon spoke. “I believe I can use my magic without risk now.”

Kazuma stared at him. “But you’re still recovering.”

“I don’t mean to completely redo the barrier for now, only to reinforce it until I am strong enough to do a proper job.”

“If you’re sure you can do it.”

“I am.” Barok smiled slightly. “There is no need to worry yourself.”

“How can I not?” Kazuma sighed. “The last thing I want is for you to be trapped in bed for another three months.”

“Understandable, if that would mean you being trapped here with me.”

“I never felt trapped here, and you know that’s not the problem to begin with.”

“My apologies…” The low sound of a chuckle left his throat. “I know it, of course.”

“If you know it, then…” Kazuma gave up on that question, already knowing he would get no proper answer. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“Your irritation is quite amusing.”

Kazuma scowled with a grunt. “You should be thankful you’re sick, or you’d feel my irritation on your face.”

“Is that so?”

His tone of voice made it clear he wasn’t taking those words seriously. Pouting slightly, Kazuma squeezed Barok’s arm with his hand.

“So, this is my reward for being nice to you…”

He said those words in the same playful tone, but Barok didn’t respond. Kazuma looked at him, but before he could say anything, Barok stopped walking, meeting his gaze.

“Kazuma…”

“Yes?”

“I… wasn’t kind to you. And for that, I apologize.”

The sudden apology took him off guard. “It’s alright. I came uninvited and decided to stay against your will. Not that I regret it, but I can see why you’d be displeased.”

Barok shook his head. “I am glad you stayed.”

Kazuma didn’t think he could be that happy to hear those words. But with the joy also came bittersweetness at the thought that those days were quickly coming to an end.

“You know, Barok…” he said. “After you get better, if you want, I could still come to visit you. When I have to bring the offerings.”

Barok widened his eyes. “You shouldn’t worry about this.”

“I don’t think you understand what I meant…” Kazuma moved his arm away, only to reach for Barok’s hands, holding both of them, meeting his eyes. “I want to come. I want to see you. Don’t you feel the same way?”

An unreadable emotion covered Barok’s face, and he turned his gaze to the ground. “I don’t know.”

The answer stung. Kazuma tried not to let it show on his face, but he couldn’t tell how successful he had been—judging by the strain in his voice when he spoke, not much.

“That’s fine.” He forced a smile. “Sorry for…” The words refused to come, so he simply shook his head. “Well, never mind it.”

He tried to move his hands away, but Barok didn’t let go of them.

“Wait…”

Kazuma looked at him, hoping for a different answer that never came. At a loss for words, Barok lowered his eyes to their joined hands and quickly pulled away.

“Oh… My apologies.”

The apology stung even more than the rejection itself—keeping the smile on his face became even harder.

“You don’t need to apologize for this,” said Kazuma.

“I do.”

“So I won’t get the wrong idea?”

Barok didn’t answer.

“It’s fine,” Kazuma repeated. “I just made an offer, you had no obligation to agree to it.”

“I see…”

A heavy silence filled the air around them, making the anxiousness inside Kazuma grow.

“It’s getting colder,” said Kazuma in an attempt at a natural voice. “We should go back inside.”

Barok agreed silently but didn’t link his arm to Kazuma’s as they walked back to his bedroom. Kazuma’s throat closed, but he chose not to comment on it. When Barok was safe in his bed, Kazuma immediately retreated to the door.

“Goodnight,” he said. “Call me if you need anything.”

Barok simply nodded in response, and more than ever before, Kazuma regretted ever touching that subject.

There was some awkwardness between them after that interaction on the previous day, but Kazuma did his best to pretend everything was the same as usual. But the way Barok avoided his eyes and spoke much less than before made it clear that things were no longer the same between them.

That was painful. It would have been painful if what he felt for Barok was friendship and nothing more, but that sudden distance between them forced Kazuma to face the feelings he had been trying to ignore for a while.

He had never been the kind to have crushes, much less fall in love. But that ache in his chest… What other explanation was there for it? Maybe not love, not yet… But something close to it—something that grew stronger every day, flourishing into something that could easily become love.

It was ridiculous when he thought about it… To fall for a dragon instead of a human. But when he was with Barok, there seemed to be no significant difference between them. It made sense that Barok wouldn’t be romantically interested in a human, but part of Kazuma still wanted to believe that there could be a way for it all to work out between them.

That kind of optimism was what caused that distance between them to begin with. Instead of hoping for things that would never happen, he should be trying to mend their relationship while he still could—before he had no choice but to leave that temple and never return.

After gathering his courage, Kazuma approached Barok’s bedroom that evening, peeking inside. Barok was still awake, with a book open on his lap despite his gaze being far away.

“Barok?”

His voice made the dragon look at him, surprised. “Ah… Kazuma.”

The reaction made him hesitate. “Am I…?”

“No, come in.”

Kazuma did as he said, sitting on the chair beside his bed. He tried to organize his thoughts before speaking but was interrupted by Barok’s voice.

“I should apologize to you.”

He shook his head. “I told you, there’s no need to.”

“There is.” Barok closed his book, his gaze upon the leather cover. “If my words made you believe I don’t care for your presence, then I must apologize.”

Those words were enough to make Kazuma’s chest feel slightly lighter.

“Apologies accepted, then.” Kazuma paused. “To be honest, I came here to do the same thing.”

“Apologize?”

“Yes. I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything… I simply have enjoyed our time together more than I thought I would.”

A faint smile took Barok’s lips. “I am happy to hear it.”

Against Kazuma’s better judgment, the embers of hope reignited in his chest. “Then, about what I said before… Is your answer still the same?”

Barok didn’t answer immediately, hesitant. “I hope you don’t misunderstand me… Your place is in the village, with your family and fellow humans. Not here, with someone like me.”

“I can still come to see you sometimes. I would miss you if I didn’t.”

“Don’t say this.”

“It’s the truth.” He looked at Barok’s face. “Wouldn’t you miss me?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Why do you hesitate so much, then? If you’re afraid this will bring other humans to the mountain, I can think of an excuse to give them.”

Barok shook his head. “This is complicated.”

“Why?”

“The longer you stay, the more I’ll wish you won’t depart again. There is no way this will end well.”

“Why not?”

Barok opened his mouth, only to soon close it again. “Forgive me, I… I shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“It would only make things even more difficult for us both.”

He recognized something in those words that was similar to his own feelings. He should be careful… He should think before taking action so he wouldn’t regret it later. He should…

“Barok…”

Kazuma leaned in his direction, slowly approaching him until their lips lightly touched. And then he was sent back when Barok pushed him away. Their gazes met for a second before Barok looked down, his expression darkening.

“You should return to your bedroom.”

Kazuma couldn’t say anything, not even apologize. He rushed out of Barok’s bedroom, closing himself in his own. Why had he done that? He should have known better… If asking to visit Barok had been enough to put a strain on their relationship, why did he think kissing him so suddenly would…?

A torrent of thoughts and emotions overcame him. He sat on his bed with his knees bent, burying his head in his arms. He wanted to cry, but the tears didn’t come no matter how much his heart ached, to the point of him wishing he didn’t feel anything at all.

Maybe because that pain in his chest already was a sign of love—he wished it wasn’t, but there was no point in denying it any longer.

Kazuma moved to his bed, lying there, wide awake for what felt like a long time. Then, to his surprise, low knocks echoed inside his bedroom. Before he could react, the door opened slightly, and Barok looked inside.

“Kazuma… are you still awake?”

“Yes…” Kazuma sat on his bed. “Is something the matter?”

“I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“You should have called me… You need to stay in bed until you recover.”

Barok approached him, sitting at the border of his mattress, looking at his face, silent for a moment before he spoke in a murmur.

“I need you to understand that I don’t hate you.”

Kazuma suppressed a relieved sigh. “That’s… good to know.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Barok paused, then reached for his hand, holding it between his. “The reason why I try to keep you away from me is for your own good.”

That took Kazuma by surprise. “Why?”

“There is much you don’t know about me… about my kind.”

“Can’t you tell me, then?”

Barok averted his gaze. For a moment, Kazuma feared he would avoid the subject again; soon, however, he continued to speak in a tired voice.

“I was brought here by my brother when I was still a cub, many decades ago… Our parents had been killed, so we were the last of our clan. He raised me here, and for many years, it was just the two of us in this place. We survived by hunting and crafting our own tools and clothes. But then a priest from the church came to us, proposing a deal.”

He paused, looking at Kazuma, who nodded to encourage him to continue.

“Klint’s magic was powerful, so he could easily raise a protective barrier around the village to keep the harsh climate and the dangers of nature away. And, in return, the humans from the village brought us everything we needed to live comfortably in this place. But then, one day, a woman came all the way up here. Irene was her name… She was smart and curious, and wanted to learn more about us. Klint was smitten by her, and… Irene soon became fond of him as well.” A bittersweet smile took his lips. “So, after many visits, Klint asked for her hand in marriage. After that, she spent most of her time here, and soon I came to see her as part of our family… An older sister, but also a mother figure, like the one I could barely remember. It didn’t last long, but for that short while, we were happy.”

A veil of sorrow covered his face as he continued that tale.

“But then, Irene’s health became worse with each passing day. We didn’t know it at the time, but it turns out dragons’ and humans’ bodies are incompatible in a deep and frightening way. Without knowing, with each kiss, Klint was slowly killing her. We thought her health was fragile, but… when the scales started to grow over her skin, we realized that… Klint’s dragon essence was replacing her own. She was turning into one of us, but her human body wasn’t strong enough to survive the change. And still, she refused to leave. No matter how much my brother begged her to, or even threatened to drag her back to the village, she chose to stay here. Until the end.”

Barok’s voice threatened to break, and Kazuma covered his hands with his own, lightly squeezing them. Barok took a deep breath.

“My brother said he poisoned her to death.” He briefly shut his eyes, as if the memory was enough to hurt. “I wanted to disagree, but… I know it is true. Such a cruel, horrible truth… For your love to kill the person most important to you.” He shook his head. “It was too much for him… After her death, Klint blamed himself every single day, and slowly his body wasted away. Despite all of my efforts, he grew weaker and weaker, until…”

He didn’t need to say those final words for Kazuma to understand it. He looked at Barok, at a loss for words until Barok finally met his gaze.

“If you stay here, I will fall in love with you,” he said. “And if I do… I will inevitably hurt you as well.”

Kazuma didn’t respond, thinking about everything he had heard. It was horrible… Almost too much to take in. But there had to be a way. There had to…

“Can’t we… Just stay together, then?” he asked. “Without kissing or anything like that.”

Barok shook his head. “I would still be taking your life from you. You have family and friends down there… I cannot ask you to leave it all behind for my sake.”

“Then I’ll go back to visit them from time to time. It’s just a few hours away, so it doesn’t need to be a goodbye, right?”

Barok didn’t respond, but his expression let Kazuma know things weren’t that simple.

“Kazuma… Do you realize how different we are?”

“What do you mean?”

“Unless I’m killed or die of sickness, I might live for centuries. And you…” He stopped briefly, adding in a lower voice. “You will inevitably leave me at some point, even if you don’t choose to.”

Kazuma could do nothing but stare at him. Maybe because of how much Barok resembled a human, but such a thing had never even crossed his mind. Centuries… It would be something close to a miracle if Kazuma lived for a single century, and even if he did…

His heart seemed to crumble inside him. He couldn’t think of anything—no matter how he looked at the situation, there would be no happy ending for the two of them.

Unless…

Something in Barok’s tale returned to his mind. It would be a gamble of immense risk for him, but still…

“Then, before you fall for me, turn me into someone like you.”

Barok stared at him in shock. “What are you…?”

“This way, even if I die, you won’t suffer as much.” He averted his gaze. “And I’m quite healthy, so who knows? I may even survive the transformation.”

The disbelief in Barok’s face slowly gave place to an angry scowl.

“What kind of foolishness are you saying? I can’t…” He cut himself off with a grunt. “I won’t risk your life for something like this!”

“Am I supposed to leave you here, then?” Kazuma insisted. “Suffering on your own, until you can’t take it anymore?”

Barok didn’t answer for a while, conflicted. “I would never want to hurt you.”

Kazuma raised his hand, lightly touching Barok’s cheek. Barok flinched, but Kazuma didn’t move his hand away.

“What are you doing?” asked Barok.

“What feels right to me.” Kazuma sighed. “You said you might fall for me… But I have already fallen for you. If I left now, I would never forgive myself. This would haunt me every single day of my life.”

A shadow of guilt covered Barok’s face. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

Kazuma smiled sadly. “I’m sorry.”

Barok lowered his head, his lips trembling. Kazuma tried to touch his arm, but before he could, Barok pulled him into a tight hug.

“I don’t know what to do…” he admitted. “I don’t want you to go, but… I cannot stand the thought of harming you.”

“We can try,” said Kazuma. “If we realize it’s not working, we’ll stop.”

“But what if it is too late?”

“Now we know how this works… We will notice the signs in time.”

Barok didn’t respond for a long while. Kazuma gently closed his arms around him.

“Please, Barok…” he said. “I don’t want to say goodbye to you like this.”

There was a long silence before Barok finally responded.

“Very well…” There was still some uncertainty in his voice. “We may try. But at the first sign of it affecting your health, we will put an end to it.”

Relief flooded Kazuma’s chest, making him relax in Barok’s arms.

“Alright.”

That same night, they started their plan: a single drop of Barok’s blood, diluted many times in water until there was nothing but a vestige of it left. Kazuma drank it, part of him scared of what could happen.

But nothing did. No pain, no sickness, no sign that anything inside him had changed. Which was good—much better than he expected.

“Are you sure you want to continue?” asked Barok the next day.

Kazuma agreed. For the following days, they repeated that same ritual, always expecting a horrible result that never came. This seemed to ease Barok’s fears a little, though he kept insisting on that tiny amount of blood, only once a day. Kazuma didn’t disagree: he much preferred a slow change like that to suffering a painful death.

The first sign of change came a few weeks later. Something like a rash covered his arms and part of his back, itching and stinging—not too strong, but slightly annoying. Noticing that change, Barok held Kazuma’s arm to examine it, furrowing his brow at the sight.

“Is there any chance this is an allergic reaction?” he asked. “To some food or fabric?”

Kazuma shook his head. “It never happened before.”

Barok nodded, pressing his lips into a line.

“It’s not painful,” Kazuma reassured him. “If we keep doing it slowly, I think I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” Barok let go of his arm, concern still covering his face. “Tell me if it worsens.”

Kazuma agreed. For the following days, that rash didn’t get any better—actually, it had gotten worse, a burning feeling covering the red spots on Kazuma’s skin.

“It is getting uglier,” said Barok.

“But it’s a sign that it’s working.”

“It is poisoning you.”

“This is more of a slight annoyance than a threat to my life,” Kazuma retorted. “These changes need to happen somehow.”

Barok averted his gaze, uncomfortable. “This was a bad idea.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Kazuma held his hand. “My health is fine, we can keep going.”

He was ready to insist, but Barok reluctantly gave in.

“Can you promise you will tell me about any other changes?” said Barok.

“Yes.” Kazuma squeezed his hand. “But only if you promise me we won’t stop unless I’m at a real risk.”

“Fair enough…”

And yet, Kazuma could feel Barok’s resolve falter with every passing day. It became worse when Kazuma’s muscles started to ache, and even worse when the constant and strong headaches began. What finally pushed him past his limits, however, was the persistent nausea that kept Kazuma from eating properly, or at least from keeping the food in his stomach.

So, that day, Barok finally said those words Kazuma had feared.

“This is enough.”

He knew that was coming, but it still made his insides sink. “I can still do it.”

“No, you can’t. You have reached your limits a long time ago, but you keep pretending you are fine so we won’t put an end to this madness.”

“We can stop for a few days. When I feel better, we—”

“Not for a few days,” Barok interrupted him. “We are ending this today.”

“But—”

“Can’t you see I am killing you?” There was a rare sharpness to his voice. “At least Klint wasn’t aware of what he was doing to Irene… But every single day, I make the choice of poisoning you with my blood, and ignoring the results.”

“It was my choice.”

“I know.” Barok took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “But if I caused the death of the one I love, I would meet the same fate as my brother.”

Kazuma stared at him, speechless. He had waited for so long to hear those words, but now that he finally did, they caused him nothing but pain.

“Please, Kazuma,” Barok added in a softer tone. “I need you to live. I can stand the loneliness as long as I know you are alive.”

Kazuma wanted to argue, as he had done countless times before. But he didn’t—not that time. Deep down, he knew Barok was right: he could feel his body slowly unraveling from the inside, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was terrified of what could happen to him.

He still didn’t want to give up, though. He didn’t want to leave Barok alone. He knew he would regret it if he left, but… He couldn’t force Barok to go through something like that.

“I understand…”

Barok’s face relaxed. “I am glad to hear it. I was afraid you would refuse…”

Kazuma’s chest tightened. “No, I won’t. If this is hurting you, then… I don’t want it, either.”

Which didn’t make giving up any less painful. Barok watched him quietly; he raised his hand to touch Kazuma’s arm, only to stop himself, lowering it again. He took a deep breath, then spoke in a low, heavy tone.

“Please, Kazuma… Leave. Let me believe that at least you will live a happy life.”

He doubted that would be possible, but kept that feeling inside his chest.

“Alright… I will. Thank you for having me all this time.”

Barok nodded. “Shall I accompany you to your village?”

The thought of staying with him for a little longer was tempting, but Kazuma refused. “No, it will only make things harder for us.”

“Are you sure?” Barok seemed uncomfortable with the idea. “Will you be fine on your own?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“I see…”

A heavy silence started to grow between them, and each passing second made Kazuma’s heart feel heavier.

“I will take my things,” said Kazuma. “I’ll be ready to leave in a moment.”

He rushed to his bedroom, and thankfully, Barok didn’t follow him, because as soon as he closed the door behind his back, the tears came in a way that hadn’t happened since his childhood—since the day he lost his parents.

Was that really something impossible? Wasn’t he missing something obvious? Some way they could stay together without his life as the price… He didn’t want to leave. If the choice was his and only his, he would take that risk, cling to that shard of hope with all of his strength, as long as it meant there was a small chance they could stay together.

But there was no easy solution. He had tried, and he had failed. And now, he had to live with it.

As soon as the tears stopped, Kazuma placed his few belongings inside his bag, then left the bedroom. Barok was there, waiting in the same place Kazuma had left him.

“Are you leaving now?” asked Barok.

“Yes.” He forced a smile. “Goodbye, Barok.”

Barok opened his mouth, only to soon close it again—whatever he wanted to say forever lost when the moment passed.

“Goodbye, Kazuma.”

Kazuma walked to the entrance, crossing it without ever looking back. It was cold outside, even with the renewed barrier keeping most of it at bay. Slowly, Kazuma started to make his way down those hundreds of steps, the last expression he saw in Barok’s face still clear in his mind.

If he had known things would inevitably end that way, Kazuma would have left much earlier. He would have suffered for it, of course, but at least Barok wouldn’t have to look so heartbroken—perhaps, if he had never followed that senseless plan, they could have said their goodbyes with smiles on their faces.

Regret filled his chest, but it was too late to do anything about it. He would never forget Barok and maybe never fall in love again, but at least he had a home to go back to. Barok, however, would be alone in that place, and that was what hurt him the most.

He kept going down, step after step, his whole body still aching from that failed transformation. His legs felt much heavier than they should be, and he had to move carefully not to fall thanks to their trembling. A strong shiver took him whole, his skin burning feverishly. More than once, he had to stop to catch his breath, his lungs making a huge effort just to function. But it wasn’t much worse than a bad cold… He could keep going.

It was halfway down those stairs that he realized something was terribly wrong. The trembling of his limbs was so violent he had to lean against the mountain for support. His vision became hazy, as well as his thoughts. It became harder to breathe with every step. He coughed violently, and something warm covered his hand. Kazuma’s stomach turned before he looked at that red stain in his glove.

That wasn’t good… His body was failing before he even reached his village. If he were to fall there, he would freeze to death. And Barok would be the one to find his body when he came down those stairs to retrieve the offerings.

That was the thought that kept his body moving. He didn’t want to hurt Barok even more than he already had… And he wanted to see his family, at least one last time. He couldn’t give up yet… He had to at least reach his home.

When his legs could no longer sustain his weight, he sat on the ground, dragging himself down each step. When his vision lost focus, he used his hands and feet to feel the way forward. When the pain seemed about to defeat him, he repeated the name of the three people he loved the most in his mind, taking every drop of strength he could from his memories of them.

He had to do it… He didn’t even remember why he was going down those steps, but he knew he had to do it. He couldn’t stop yet.

Many hours passed before he finally reached the last step. There was a sound nearby… Voices, maybe. Kazuma opened his mouth to call for them, a low groan managing to leave his throat. He tried again, and this time, a slightly louder sound came. The voices stopped for a moment.

“Kazuma? Is that you?”

That distant voice made him raise his eyes, seeing a pair of blurred shapes approaching. He knew who they were… of course he did.

“Kazuma!” Susato called him again, crouching by his side. “It really is you… What’s wrong?”

“I…”

Seeing them made relief spread through his entire self—and, with that, his body finally stopped fighting.

“Are you hurt?” asked Mikotoba. “Did that dragon do something to you?”

“No…” Kazuma muttered, each word demanding a huge effort from him. “I am the one who hurt him…”

“What?” asked Susato.

Kazuma wanted to explain everything, but he was too tired. “I should… never have stayed…”

His lips moved, but no sound left them. Mikotoba patted his cheek.

“Kazuma, look at me. Stay with me, Kazuma!”

He tried to, but his mind refused to comply. Everything after that was a confusing blur of images, sounds, and sensations—mostly pain. His insides burned, his skin stung as if countless sharp needles punctured it from the inside. His head was a painful mess of jumbled thoughts, and he couldn’t tell how much of it was real and how much was a strange piece of fiction conjured by his dying brain.

Yes, dying… He was dying, just like Irene. But at least he was no longer in that temple. Barok wouldn’t need to see it—he wouldn’t have to add a third grave to that mountain.

But his family would still grieve for him, and the realization weighed in his heart. He wasn’t ready to die… He had believed he was ready to risk everything, but the thought of completely fading away frightened him. It had been his choice that led him to that moment, but… He didn’t want it all to end. He didn’t want to disappear.

A slightly cold touch on his forehead pushed those thoughts out of his mind, at least for the moment. Strange… Kazuma often saw Mikotoba and Susato in his restless dreams, but that time, the one next to him was…

“Barok…?”

Even through his hazy sight, Kazuma could still recognize him. Barok leaned in his direction, his hand caressing Kazuma’s hair.

“It’s alright…” he said. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. You will be fine.”

His voice was so soft and gentle… Kazuma wanted to reach for him, only to make sure he was really there, but his body refused to move.

“I thought… I wouldn’t see you again,” he muttered.

“I am here,” Barok reached for his hand, covering it with his. “I’ll be here with you. I will never let you go again.”

Those words brought a weak smile to his lips. Even if that was just a dream, it was still a wonderful dream to have.

When Kazuma returned to consciousness, he was in his bedroom, in his family’s home.

For a few seconds, he was completely lost, his mind surrounded by a thick fog that slowly dispersed, revealing his most recent memories fragment by fragment. He jolted up at the realization that he was still alive, and something colorful immediately grabbed his attention: scales… Shiny red scales partially covered his arms.

“Kazuma!”

That voice made him look to the side, startled. It was Barok, sitting in a chair beside his bed. The sight made him wonder if he was still dreaming, after all… Why would Barok be there?

His mind was still struggling to catch up when Barok stood from that chair, throwing his arms around him, holding him close to his chest.

“You are awake…” he murmured. “Thank the Gods…”

That closeness made Kazuma slowly relax: it all felt too real to be just a dream. The realization filled him with relief, but also some confusion.

“What are you doing here?”

“Your sister, Miss Susato, came to the temple to inform me of your condition,” Barok explained. “I came as soon as I learned about it. I am so deeply sorry… I should never have allowed you to return on your own.”

“I’m the one who asked you not to come.”

“That is no excuse.”

Kazuma wanted to argue, but for once, chose to leave it for later—he had more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. So, instead, he asked the first of the many questions he had in his mind.

“For how long did I sleep?”

“A few weeks.” Barok lowered his eyes. “Almost a month.”

“What…?”

Kazuma blinked, shocked at those words. Barok nodded, soon speaking again.

“It was… It wasn’t an easy transformation. But it seems to be over now.”

Transformation… He lowered his eyes to his arms, observing those red scales for a moment longer. Then he looked at Barok.

“Can I see it?” He gestured toward his side table. “There’s a mirror in the drawer.”

Barok retrieved that mirror, offering it to Kazuma. “Here.”

Kazuma took it in his hands, anxiously checking his reflection. The first thing he noticed was the horns, dark and curved backwards. His hair and skin color were still the same, but his eyes, once of a dark color, were now of a bright red tone. Kazuma opened his mouth in surprise, only to see that his teeth had turned into small fangs. He brought a hand to one of them, feeling its shape with his finger.

“You have a tail now,” said Barok.

“I do?”

Kazuma reached behind him, his palm touching an unfamiliar appendage growing from his lower back. He looked at it, and it wasn’t very different from Barok’s tail except for the color: red like the scales covering his body.

“I do…” he repeated, astonished.

To Kazuma’s surprise, his words earned him a small laugh from Barok. Kazuma looked at him, who smiled apologetically.

“Forgive me, your reaction was…”

Kazuma narrowed his eyes. “It was…?”

Barok brought a hand to his cheek, lightly caressing it. “It was quite endearing.”

Those words were enough to melt his heart. Kazuma brought a hand to Barok’s, holding it close to his face. Barok observed him silently for a while.

“I am so glad you are back,” said Barok.

“Me too…” Kazuma admitted. “I thought I was going to die.”

“We all did. But you are here… Out of strength or stubbornness, I cannot tell, but you are still here.”

The playfulness in his words made Kazuma smile. “Does it make you happy?”

“Overjoyed.”

Barok leaned forward, kissing Kazuma’s forehead before speaking again.

“I will inform Miss Susato and Dr. Mikotoba that you are awake.”

“Wait, Barok…”

He looked at Kazuma, who hesitated for just a moment before asking.

“It really worked, didn’t it?”

Barok nodded. “I don’t think the change is complete yet. But you seem to be out of danger for the—”

That was all he needed to hear. Kazuma threw his arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Barok froze for a second, then embraced his waist, holding him closely, completely surrendering to it. When their lips parted, they looked at each other from that close distance.

“Will you be happy like this?” asked Barok.

“Why are you asking?”

“You are giving up on everything for my sake…”

“I didn’t give up on anything. I just chose to be with you.”

That response seemed to reassure Barok. He brought a hand to Kazuma’s chin, caressing it with his thumb.

“I will do anything for you,” he murmured. “Anything so you can be happy with me.”

Kazuma considered those words for a moment. “Could you do me a favor, then?”

“Of course.”

“When I come to visit my family, won’t you come with me?”

The request surprised Barok. “Why would you want this?”

The answer was clear in his head but still hard to turn into words. He knew he loved Barok and his family, of course, but only now did he understand just how much. Especially after believing he would die and leave them all behind, Kazuma wanted to spend as much time as he could with them.

“Is it that strange to want the people you love close to you?”

Barok didn’t respond for a few seconds, then let out a small sigh. “I… understand. I shall… accompany you, then.”

“You sound nervous.”

“Of course I am. Honestly, I still don’t know how your family feels about me… Miss Susato was furious when we first met.”

“She gets angry when she’s worried,” Kazuma explained. “I’m sure she’ll like you once you get to know each other better.”

“Hopefully…” Barok hesitated. “But this is not all… A dragon walking among humans could cause all sorts of trouble.”

“Well, I can understand it.” Kazuma shrugged. “If people learned of how lovely the dragon in the temple actually is, you would have visitors every day.”

The thought was enough to make Barok groan. “Gods spare me… But you know what I meant.”

He did. But, even if Barok was no longer fated to be alone in that temple, Kazuma couldn’t help but worry about how being trapped inside that place for years—possibly centuries—would affect him.

“I know,” he said. “I just thought that, maybe, it would be good for you to leave that place sometimes.”

Barok averted his gaze, uncomfortable. “I’m not sure.”

Kazuma nodded, choosing not to press him further. “Fine… Just think about it, alright?”

“There is no need to,” Barok soon responded. “If this would make you happy, then I shall do it.”

The sudden determination in his voice amused Kazuma. “Thank you for indulging me.”

“I meant it when I said I am willing to do anything for your sake. Even things I usually would not do.”

“Just don’t push yourself.”

To Kazuma’s surprise, this time, Barok seemed to be the one amused by his words.

“Even when you are the one trapped in a bed, you still worry about me…” he said.

Kazuma pouted slightly. “And what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing.” Barok placed a brief kiss on his lips, seeming awfully pleased. “I will bring your family to see you. Stay in bed until we return.”

“Alright.”

Barok was about to leave, but then stopped, facing Kazuma again.

“And, Kazuma…” Barok smiled as he touched Kazuma’s hair, his hand lightly brushing his horn. “You look beautiful like this.”

With those words, he walked out of the bedroom, leaving Kazuma behind with a flushed face and a pounding heart.

Kazuma wasn’t surprised at how tightly Susato and Mikotoba hugged him as soon as they stepped into his bedroom, not even caring to mention all those changes in his appearance—it made Kazuma feel loved like never before.

It took a while longer for that transformation to be fully complete, and his body to recover. Only then did Kazuma properly talk to his family about his relationship with Barok, and how he planned to live in that temple, but would visit them as often as possible. None of it came as a surprise to them, but that last part seemed to make them relax.

“I’ll visit so often you’ll be tired of seeing me,” said Kazuma in a playful tone.

Susato lightly punched him in the arm. “You better.”

And he kept his word, even as the years peacefully passed. Some people came to their village, others left, but the barrier raised by the guardian dragons stayed strong, keeping safe all those who made a home in that place.

Barok also kept his word to Kazuma, often accompanying him to the village. His first appearance, when he rushed to Kazuma’s bedside without caring about hiding his identity, had been a shock to most—who, despite knowing about the dragon, had never seen the creature in his true form until he landed in the middle of the street. But it didn’t take long for the people to warm up to their guardian, welcoming him as one of their own.

And, whenever Barok and Kazuma went to the village, without fail, they paid a visit to Kazuma’s family, sharing a meal and long conversations that, if they weren’t careful, could last the entire night. It was strange to see Mikotoba and Susato age while Kazuma stayed the same—a bittersweet feeling, which only made him more determined to enjoy the time he still had with them as much as he could.

As for his relationship with Barok, Kazuma couldn’t be happier. It was funny to think that it had all started with that senseless plan to find a bride for the dragon, only to end with the two of them exchanging vows. The blacksmith had done a remarkable job at those rings, so they would be the size of their mostly human fingers, but also expand a considerable amount to fit their claws—and her face as she took those measurements had been quite amusing on its own.

It took Kazuma some time to get used to his new body, and the human half of him was still struggling with the idea of living for hundreds of years. When he thought too much about it, an uncomfortable restlessness grew inside his chest, only quietening when Barok hugged him close, easing those thoughts, helping Kazuma remember that he had made that choice for a reason, and despite everything, had no regrets at all.

With the help of the villagers, they had also managed to make that old temple feel more like a home. They regrew that old garden at the back of the temple, until it resembled the one from Barok’s memories, carefully cultivated by Irene many years before. With some time and care, the place gained new life, so different from the sorrowful sight of when Kazuma first stepped into it. And, as a result, gardening became an activity they both enjoyed doing together, caring for those flowers until their colors brightened the entire place.

That morning, Kazuma finished caring for the flowers, carefully taking a few of them before walking toward that pair of stone graves; there, he crouched on the ground, placing those flowers over them. Wherever Klint and Irene could be, Kazuma was sure they were glad to see Barok find happiness after enduring so much pain on his own. So, he quietly hoped they would find their happiness as well, be it in the afterlife, their next lives, or even a different world—it didn’t matter, as long as they were able to find each other once again.

Kazuma stepped away from those graves, and as we walked toward the back door, Barok came through it, his gaze soon falling upon him.

“Here you are… I was looking for you.”

The smile on his face when their eyes met made Kazuma’s heart jump. Without thinking, Kazuma rushed in his direction, closing his arms around his waist in a tight hug that almost threw them off balance. A low, surprised laugh escaped Barok’s lips, and he brought a hand to Kazuma’s head.

“What has gotten into you?”

Kazuma smiled, burying his face in Barok’s chest.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just felt like being annoying.”

“I see… Nothing out of the ordinary, then.”

Kazuma hummed in agreement, tightening that embrace, happy to feel Barok’s arms closing around him. That was the life he had chosen for himself—calm but fulfilling days, which filled his heart with peace. Even with all the troubles and inevitable pain he would face in his inhumanly long life, if given the choice, Kazuma would still choose Barok every single time.

With that dragon by his side, he would be fine living for hundreds, even thousands of years.