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“A-are you crying?”
“I’m not,” Ena bites out as she turns to glare at Mizuki, big tears rolling down her cheeks. In the cold air outside, they give off steam.
Mizuki takes a tentative step towards her, extending her hand as slowly as she can to give Ena space to reject her touch. She doesn’t. Mizuki bends her fingers, and Ena’s almost-scalding hot tears gather on her knuckle—Mizuki welcomes the slight burn.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her throat almost closing around her words. “I told you-”
Ena suddenly jerks away from her in a petty attempt to give Mizuki her back. In her hastiness to hide from Mizuki, her large tail ends up hitting Mizuki’s midsection, completely knocking the wind out of her.
Ena gasps and turns as Mizuki folds on herself, hugging her sore ribs, which are probably bruised, to be honest. It hurts that much.
“Ow,” she complains, rubbing the side of her ribcage.
Ena is worried—Mizuki can tell, because Mizuki can read her like an open book. Even though she has been the knight in charge of Ena for less than a year, Mizuki feels a deep connection to her, almost as though they have known each other their whole lives. Mizuki has felt this way since the very beginning—even though Ena is a dragon, and dragons are just weapons.
A good knight should care for their dragon the same way they would care for their sword—as something rare and expensive, sure, something you keep safely tucked in its sheath and polish every night in order to keep it from rusting. But if one’s sword were to get damaged or lost in a battle, it would promptly be replaced with a new one, without any mourning. For a sword is just a sword, and it can never be a friend, or a companion. A sword is not a human being, after all.
“B-big knight you are,” Ena says with a little huff, pretending to be annoyed at Mizuki even though her eyes keep glancing at where Mizuki is clutching her ribs, “Crying out for a light bump. You humans are so weak.”
Mizuki sighs, hiding an amused smile. “Yeah yeah, we are weaklings. Now give me your hands, will you, oh mighty dragon?”
Ena rolls her eyes but still reaches out with her hands. Mizuki grabs them and straightens up slowly. She grimaces at the slight pain in her ribs but quickly recovers, offering Ena a big smile.
At least Ena has stopped crying, now. Still, Mizuki can’t help but feel incredibly guilty—this is all her fault.
“I’m sorry, Ena.”
Ena’s big eyes fill with tears once more.
“You- I know it’s not your fault, okay?”
“I could have been clearer.”
“That you could have,” Ena grumbles, crossing her arms on her chest. “Like, if you knew we weren’t allowed to go to the ball, why did you dress up?”
“ ‘Cause it’s cute?” Mizuki tries to lighten the mood with some humor, and spins around once to show off her dress. It works. Ena finally smiles. Mizuki is so relieved at the sight she almost falls to her knees.
“Hmph, I guess I’ll give you that.” After her words, Ena bats her large wings and spreads them wide. “Though I look much cuter.”
“You’re the cutest girl in the world,” Mizuki says sincerely, feeling her heart surge in her chest at the sight of the blush that appears on Ena’s cheeks.
Yes, Mizuki knows Ena well. They have been through a lot—Ena was mistrustful of humans at first, diffident and scared and heartbroken. Unlike every other dragon in the Dragon Training Corps, the DTC for short, Ena was not captured in the wild. In an unsual turn of event, she was raised by a human family who had found her as a baby, starving and all alone in the woods nearby their small village. Ena lived her whole childhood and teenage years among humans in a remote village outside the capital, with her human family: a doting mom, a distant dad, and an annoying younger brother (Ena’s words, not Mizuki’s). The army had multiple times attempted to recruit Ena, for dragons are to either be killed or used to kill. They are not pets, and most importantly, they are not family. Thanks to Ken, current chief of the DTC as well as the man to whom Mizuki owed her life, Ena managed to escape forced conscription for a long time. After all, Ken was on good terms with Ena’s father, a renowned artist who had been commissioned to paint the portraits of various army officials several time throughout the years. All things considered, Ena would have probably lived her whole life in that little village, far away from the army and the war raging on. Unfortunately, that did not come to pass, for one fateful afternoon Ena ended up in a scuffle with two boys who had been bothering her best friend. Though she merely wished to intimidate them, she had ended up injuring both of them more severely than she had meant to. At that point, Ena was presented with the same choice all captured dragons have to face: the capital sentence or the army. Ena picked death, her family begged the guards to take her to the army instead.
And that was how Ena came to be in Mizuki's life.
Mizuki met Ena the day after she was transported to the capital. She was without doubt the smallest dragon Mizuki had ever seen—she was probably even shorter than Mizuki, a human.
Ena was sitting motionlessly in the corner of her cell staring into nothing, as though already dead. Mizuki knew that look.
“I get it,” she told Ken, who had personally walked her down to Ena’s cell, “I know now you want me to be her knight.”
Ken nodded with a tired look in his eyes and handed Mizuki the key to free Ena from her shackles. “She’s your property, now; make good use of her,” he said, grimacing slightly at the words that one is supposed to say when assigning a dragon to a knight. A bitter taste rose to Mizuki’s mouth.
Ena remained completely silent, not uttering a single word, not when Mizuki opened the door to her cell, nor when she sat down next to her on the cold stone floor. Mizuki waited.
Once she was sure that Ena was probably used to her presence, she finally spoke.
“If I free you from your shackles and lead you outside, will you try to fly away and cause trouble for both of us and risk being shot down, or will you follow me to my quarters so we can have breakfast together?”
Ena didn’t answer, her gaze vacant and fixed right in front of her.
“Guess I’ll have to trust you,” Mizuki mumbled through gritted teeth, more to herself than to Ena, anyway, who remained limp and unresponsive.
Mizuki carefully unlocked the shackles at Ena’s feet and hissed in sympathy at the state of Ena’s ankles: bruised and swollen, caked in dried-up blood framing cuts and blisters. Mizuki instinctively reached with her hand to inspect Ena’s wounds, but Ena flinched away from her touch. Mizuki looked up into Ena’s proud yet terrified eyes and tried to give her a comforting smile.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. But I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”
Ena went back to staring at the wall of her cell. Mizuki slowly unlocked the shackles around Ena’s wrists, careful not to touch her skin, trying to respect the boundary Ena has wordlessly laid down.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Mizuki stood up and offered her hand to Ena, who stared at it for several seconds. Eventually, Ena rose to her feet leaning on the wall next to her for support, and refused Mizuki’s multiple offers of help as she limped and stumbled behind her on the way to Mizuki’s quarters.
It was early morning, around half an hour before everyone should be awake, so they luckily did not bump into anyone else around the halls of the royal army base. Once in Mizuki’s room, Ena stood motionless in front of the closed door, as though she had forgotten what she was supposed to be doing.
“Sit down,” Mizuki gently prompted, placing her hands on the back of one of her chairs. Ena looked at Mizuki, then the chair, and plopped on the floor, her arms crossed and a defiant look in her eyes.
“Oh, you’re gonna make it hard for me, huh? Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not discouraged easily.”
Also, I was just like you once, Mizuki added in her head. Ena hugged her knees to her chest and narrowed her eyes at Mizuki.
“Well, I’m gonna make breakfast. What do you like?”
Ena remained still.
“Hmm… How about porridge?”
No reaction.
“Omelette? I make a mean one.”
Ena did not move a single muscle.
“Pancakes?”
Even though Ena kept on glaring diffidently at Mizuki, her tail twitched. Ena did not seem to notice how her instincts had betrayed her preference, and Mizuki decided not to point it out.
“Hmm, maybe I could make some bacon and eggs? Ah, you know what? I myself am in the mood for pancakes after all, hope you’re too.”
Mizuki turned and got to work. Once she had a plate ready for Ena, she placed it on the table.
“You coming?”
Ena looked away, pressing herself harder against the front door. Mizuki took the plate and walked up to her, gently placing it next to her.
“Here, eat. You had a tough night, from what I heard.”
Ena kept on staring at nothing, and Mizuki sighed, crouching in front of her.
“You need to eat. Listen, I… I know how you’re feeling. I have been in your shoes, more or less. It can get better, I promise.”
Ena’s response was to push away the plate as she smiled at Mizuki with her eyes full of spite.
“Come on, I know you’re hungry.”
As if on cue, Ena’s stomach grumbled. Mizuki politely pretended not to hear it.
“I’ll go eat my own share, you… You can do whatever you want.”
That day, Ena scarfed down her pancakes while Mizuki read her spanking new dragon training manual at her table. However, she refused to speak a single word and spent the whole day in a corner of the room, crying on and off and muffling her little sobs whenever they bubbled to the surface.
On day two, Ena ate her pancakes almost as soon as Mizuki placed the plate at her feet. She still skipped lunch and dinner, and did not move from her corner.
On day three, progress was made. Ena let Mizuki look at her wounds and dress them, and she ate every meal Mizuki brought her, although she did not finish a single one.
After a week, Ena was able to sit at the same table as Mizuki as they shared their meals, and she even started sleeping in the extra bed Mizuki had ordered up to her quarters. Still, Ena refused to talk to Mizuki. Not even a single word. In all fairness, after the first day Mizuki had accepted that Ena simply wasn’t going to talk to her any time soon, and so the two of them lived almost like two nuns who had taken a vow of silence. Mizuki found the silence reassuring, and noticed that she was getting used to Ena’s body language more quickly than if they had been speaking. In many ways, they were developing a language of their own, made of encouraging smiles and tentative looks.
However, on day ten, Mizuki decided to try and force some more progress in their relationship.
“So,” at the sound of her voice Ena started, dropping her fork in the plate, “How were the pancakes today?”
Ena swallowed her bite and took a long sip of milk before answering.
“Passable,” she whispered, so quietly Mizuki almost didn’t hear her.
“I’ll take that as a win.”
Ena shrugged in response.
“You know, you really remind me of myself.”
At her words, Ena frowned, an incredulous look on her face.
“I swear, I think we’re actually more similar than you think,” Mizuki said cheerfully, trying to use a humorous tone of voice to coax Ena into answering her again.
Ena simply shot her a dark, unimpressed look. Without speaking, she pointed to her big horns, and as though to prove a point, she theatrically spread her wings for good measure. The cutlery rattled at the movement, and Mizuki had to grab the edge of the table so that their food wouldn’t go flying everywhere.
“Hmph,” was all Ena said as she folded her wings again, her arms crossed. Mizuki couldn’t help but smile—she already liked Ena a lot.
“Well, apart from the whole dragon thing I meant,” Mizuki added with a wink. Even though Ena rolled her eyes at her words and went back to picking at the food in her plate, Mizuki could tell her approach was working, somewhat. Ena’s body language looked relaxe, at ease.
“You don’t believe me, but it’s true! First of all, I also grew up in a small village.”
Ena scoffed, and angrily stabbed a piece of pancake.
“Many did,” she pointed out, with a tone of voice that clearly indicated she was starting to think Mizuki was an idiot.
Well, Mizuki will take the progress, however small. At least Ena was talking.
Mizuki opened her mouth to crack a joke, but the words died in her mouth. This was unfair, actually; Mizuki was briefed on Ena’s past without her consent, and now here Ena was, scared and alone and with a knight who worked with the same people who had torn her away from all she knew. The same people who had bruised and cut the skin Mizuki had nursed back to health. Just looking at her, picking at her food and looking so small and alone, Mizuki was suddenly taken by the urge to share her story with her. She wanted to be on equal footing with her, hopefully establish a sense of trust. Above all, she wanted Ena to feel less alone.
The problem was that Mizuki did not share her story with people. Ever. Ken knew it, because he had had an active role in it. And because at first Mizuki lived in his house, his daughter and Mizuki’s fellow knight, An, also knew her story, even though Mizuki had never had to tell her herself.
It was hard, almost impossibly so, but Mizuki managed to somehow take a deep breath and open her mouth.
“I have never told anyone this, at least not in my own words,” she started, and was appalled to realize how much her voice was shaking. She cleared her throat. “I had a hard time growing up in my village. I was… different. There was no one like me in the whole village. The other kids disliked me for it, and gave me a bit of a hard time.” Now, that’s a simplification.
Mizuki glanced briefly in Ena’s direction, to see if she was still listening.
She was. Intently so. Mizuki looked away from her serious, focused gaze as her heart picked up its pace. Sharing her story was terrifying.
“Not only the kids, by the way,” she forced herself to continue, squeezing her eyes shut, “Adults too. They… They didn’t want me around. The only person who ever truly accepted me, with whom I could be me, was my big sister.”
Mizuki was now at the hardest part. She gritted her teeth, trying to push out the next words.
She couldn’t.
Tears burnt in her eyes, unwelcome and unfamiliar, and she desperately tried to push them back.
A soft touch made her open her eyes. She looked at her hands, clenched into fists on the table, and saw that right next to them was a handkerchief which had definitely not been there before. Mizuki met Ena’s eyes. She still looks diffident and scared, but there was some compassion in her eyes.
“She died. My sister.”
Mizuki spoke without even having to think about it, lost in Ena’s big brown eyes. At her words, Ena’s expression grew even kinder than before, though her mistrust still lingered. Mizuki found it was easy to tell her the rest.
“She was the one who always protected me, took care of me. When she died, I knew I had no reason to stay in the village. It was winter, and I left. Honestly, I think I was hoping to die in the snow—I didn’t see a point in living anymore. But Ken found me, hypothermic and passed out in the middle of woods. He took me into his home, and he and his daughter took care of me as I recovered from a bad case of pneumonia. Once I did, I joined the army and trained under Ken. And there you go.”
Mizuki took the handkerchief Ena had pushed against her hand and dabbed the skin under her eyes, to dry the tears she had barely noticed had started gathering in her eyes the more she spoke.
“So, you see? We’re pretty similar,” Mizuki said with a lighter tone, balling the handkerchief and placing it back on the table.
“I still don’t really think so,” Ena murmured, looking away.
Mizuki knew exactly what she meant—she probably thought Mizuki fit in with the other knights better than she herself ever would with either knights or dragons. Not dragon enough for the other dragons to accept as one of their own, and not human enough for other humans to treat her as one, Ena was keenly aware she would be struggling once she joined the corps. In that case, Mizuki might as well make matters clearer in that respect.
“Well, let’s make a list,” Mizuki chirped, and started theatrically counting on her fingers, making Ena smile slightly as she looked back at her, “We both grew up as the only different person in our own small village, we both chose to die at some point and were instead pushed towards the army, and we’ll both be outcasts in the DTC.”
At Mizuki’s last point Ena frowned, confused.
“You- Because of me?”
Mizuki smiled bitterly, shaking her head. “Let’s just say I’m still as different from everyone else in my troop as I was as a child in my village. People don’t like different.”
Ena seemed to accept Mizuki’s answer, though it looked to Mizuki that it was more a matter of Ena being simply done talking with a knight, rather than Ena not being curious to know more. Mizuki wasn’t ready to tell her more anyway, so she smiled at her and changed the subject.
“Y’know, you haven’t been out of my room in ten days. How about I take you to the bathhouse today? I know when it’s empty, and I can keep guard for you, to make sure no one bothers you.”
Ena shrugged, though her tail wagged in interest.
“Alright, perfect. Then-”
“I want more pancakes. Also you had strawberries on yours but there were none on mine,” Ena suddenly interrupted Mizuki, shoving her empty plate in her face.
“Sorry, I didn’t know if you liked them.”
“Who doesn’t? Idiot human,” Ena grumbled.
Mizuki found herself grinning at Ena, who huffed when she caught Mizuki’s giddy expression.
“Well? Stop staring and chop chop. For crying out loud.”
Mizuki chuckled as she picked up Ena’s plate.
“At your service, your highness,” she said with a little bow.
Ena stuck her tongue out at her, and Mizuki felt happier and more at peace than she had in years. Something was probably wrong with her.
It’s been nine months since then. Nine months of training and traveling. In these nine months, Mizuki knows she has fallen in love with Ena. For her quick-temper and the way she angrily stomps her foot when Mizuki does not give in to her tantrums. For her spoiled girl mannerisms, her pride, and the insecurities she conceals behind her glares and irritated quips. She fell for Ena’s kindness, the way she sometimes sits and looks at the sky as she hums songs to herself. She fell for Ena’s resilience, her astonishing ability to pick herself up after a failure or a setback. She fell in love during quiet nights as they kept each other warm by a bonfire under the stars. She fell in love over the many days spent traveling through the woods, performing the tasks that would get them qualified as official personnel of the DTC. Mizuki loves everything about Ena: her eyes, her little horns, her wings and her tail and how she always wins when they arm-wrestle for silly reasons, like who gets the last cookie in their rations. Mizuki loves Ena even in her dragon form, when she sheds her anthropomorphic looks and transforms into a mighty beast, ten times larger than Mizuki and still just as beautiful. Mizuki loves flying on Ena’s back, or simply snuggling in her side during cold nights. And because Mizuki loves her, Mizuki knows her—she can’t tear her eyes away from her, after all.
Yes, Mizuki is always looking, and so she knows: Ena is in love with her too. They both are, and they are both aware of it, yet neither of them dares to act on their feelings.
For Ena is just a dragon, and Mizuki is her trainer.
A dragon is just a dragon, and it can never be a friend, or a companion. Most importantly, it can never be a human’s lover. Dragons aren't human, after all.
Mizuki extends her hand to Ena, bowing slightly.
“Wanna dance?”
“Here?” Ena asks with a frown, looking around the garden outside the castle. The ball has already started inside the walls, and they can hear the loud music overlapped by chatter and laughter as people dance and have fun. People not like them.
Mizuki spreads her arms out. “I mean, it’s beautiful out here! Much better than inside. It’s too crowded there—imagine all the sweating and bumping into people and oh, the small talk! Yuck.”
Ena giggles, and Mizuki’s guilt starts easing up. She knew from the beginning dragons weren’t allowed to ball. She also knows that if she were less of a persona non grata in the army, she might have been able to convince the higher ups to bend the rules a bit to allow Ena in. Despite this, Mizuki did not have the heart to crush Ena’s excitement when she learned of the ball, and so here they are, all dressed up for an event where neither of them is welcome.
Mizuki extends her hand again. “Why let them ruin our night?”
Ena eyes Mizuki’s hand warily, but still tentatively reaches for it.
With Mizuki leading, the two of them dance a fast paced waltz under the full moon, grinning at each other. Every time Mizuki spins Ena under her arm, carefully avoiding being hit by her wings or tail, Ena lets out a delighted chuckle, and Mizuki’s heart swells. The song inside the castle ends and another begins. It’s faster, and Mizuki doesn’t recognize the tempo.
She stops moving and tilts her head at Ena, still holding her close.
“Wait, what’s the signature here?”
“4/4 I think?”
“I don’t know how to dance to this,” Mizuki admits, letting go of Ena, who rolls her eyes at her.
“It’s foxtrot, dummy. Here, move your arm. I’ll lead for this one. My mom taught me all kinds of dances, and Airi always made me lead when she was practicing.”
Ena starts leading Mizuki, loudly complaining every time Mizuki steps on her toes or fumbles a step.
“Ah, mou. It’s slow-slow, quick-quick! Get that through that thick skull of yours.”
“I’m trying ma'am.”
Mizuki finally gets the gist, much to Ena’s satisfaction, who keeps gloating for the rest of the dance. Once the song ends, they hear a roar of applause from inside the castle. Then, a slow, romantic waltz begins playing.
Blushing slightly and feeling her heart in her throat, Mizuki wordlessly places her hand on Ena’s waist, so that she can lead once again. Ena clears her throat, looking away, but still gets in position, her hand on Mizuki’s shoulder.
They dance slowly, so close together all Mizuki can feel is the inhuman-like heat of Ena’s body pressed against hers. Mizuki bends her arm, bringing Ena’s hand close to her chest. She looks down at her, illuminated by the full moon—her big, dark eyes, so full of love, trust, devotion. Mizuki knows her eyes probably look the same. Ena blinks away a few tears and falls with her head on Mizuki’s chest.
They stop spinning but don’t let go, holding each other as they sway in the breeze, dancing in place to a slow waltz that already ended. They don’t care.
Mizuki’s grip on Ena’s hand grow tighter. She can’t tell her how much she loves her—it would hurt too much.
“I know,” Ena whispers against her chest, looking up. Mizuki stares at her in bewilderment.
“You can read minds, now?”
Ena smiles softly, shaking her head.
Ah, it hurts.
“Ena-”
Ena covers Mizuki’s mouth with her hand.
“One day. If we ever get the second certification.”
Mizuki feels dizzy. The second certification to become an official trainer-dragon duo is tough to achieve. Right now, they’re still training for the first and performing preliminary exams throughout the kingdom. Most people stop there; the first certification is good enough to receive a full salary and take part in battles. However, the second certification would grant them a much greater deal of freedom and autonomy. Trainers who get the second certification are in high demand, and are often summoned abroad. If they could pretend to leave the kingdom on the pretense of having been hired elsewhere… They could build a life. Mizuki sees a small cottage in the woods, not too far from Ena’s old village, so that her parents and Akito could come visit them in secret. They could grow their own food and have animals and Ena could paint, just like she’s always dreamed. Mizuki could mend their clothes, sew new ones from scratch. They could dance in the middle of their living room and go flying together on sunny days. Mizuki sees a cat, Ena loafing next to it; she sees a warm fireplace and fights in the kitchen and warm meals shared over a table with a wobbly leg.
Mizuki wants this. No matter how impossible getting the certification is, Mizuki wants this.
“No ‘if’. We’ll get it.”
Ena hides her face in Mizuki’s chest once again, and Mizuki smiles up at the moon, holding Ena close.
One day, she thinks, her chest growing tighter.
One day, no matter what.