The fire had burned down to glowing embers by the time most of the group settled into uneasy sleep. Crickets sang in the grass, and the night sky stretched endlessly above them.
Lumi sat alone by the dying fire, her dagger in her lap, absently turning it over in her hand. The blade's surface caught the flicker of light, reflecting her face back at her in broken pieces.
Footsteps approached — steady, unhurried. She didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Tsukasa dropped down beside her with that usual, lazy air like nothing in the world could touch him. He stretched his legs out toward the fire, arms resting behind his head.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.
Lumi snorted softly. "You don't strike me as someone who does much sleeping either."
Tsukasa shrugged. "Sleep's overrated. Especially in a world like this."
Silence hung between them for a while, broken only by the wind sighing through the grass.
Finally, Lumi spoke. "Back there… during the fight. I froze for a second. When those civilians—"
"I noticed," Tsukasa cut in, but his voice wasn't cruel. Just matter-of-fact. "You pulled through."
She tightened her grip on the dagger. "I shouldn't have hesitated."
Tsukasa turned his head, looking at her with those sharp, unreadable eyes. "You've been carrying something a long time, haven't you?"
Lumi hesitated. Then nodded.
"My village was wiped out by demonkin when I was ten. Same as every damn borderland settlement the nobles didn't bother to protect. I was the only one left." Her voice dropped. "I watched my mother burn."
Tsukasa was quiet for a moment, then gave a low hum. "And you swore no one else would die while you still stood. Classic story."
She shot him a glare. "Is that supposed to be comforting?"
"Nope," Tsukasa smirked. "It's supposed to remind you that your pain doesn't make you weak. It makes you sharp. Dangerous. And dangerous is good."
Lumi studied him for a long moment, then gave a weary, crooked smile. "You're a terrible motivational speaker."
"I try."
He stood then, brushing dust from his coat. "Get some rest, Lumi. You'll need your edge for what's coming."
Lumi watched him walk away into the dark, the flicker of the embers catching on his magenta coat.
And for the first time since the Blood Moon rose over Havenmere… the weight on her chest felt a little lighter.
The night passed in an uneasy silence, the weight of the day's events lingering like a storm cloud overhead. Lumi didn't sleep, but she stayed still, keeping her eyes on the horizon, lost in thought. The world felt so much heavier after the fight with Renar, and yet, somewhere deep inside, a fire had reignited. Tsukasa had a way of making things feel more manageable, but Lumi knew the real challenge lay ahead.
As the first light of dawn began to creep over the mountains, the sound of footsteps approached again — slow and deliberate.
She didn't have to turn around to know it was Tsukasa.
"You should really get some rest," Tsukasa's voice came, softer than usual. He stood beside her, his eyes scanning the horizon with the same unreadable calm. "That fight with Renar was just a prelude. Things are going to get worse from here."
Lumi's hands clenched around the dagger again. She wanted to say something, anything. Tell him that she was ready, that she wasn't afraid. But the truth? She felt the weight of the world pressing down on her chest, suffocating the words before they could leave her lips.
"I'm fine," she finally said, her voice quieter than she intended. "I just... I've been thinking."
"About?"
"About what I've been doing all this time. Fighting, surviving. My entire life has been just running from the past. From the village. From everything. And I... I don't know if I'm any closer to actually moving forward."
Tsukasa didn't respond immediately. He simply sat down beside her, his posture relaxed as if they were talking about the weather. The stillness in the air was familiar — something about him had a way of making it feel like time slowed down. The rest of the world faded away when he was near.
"You're not alone in this," he said finally, his tone softer now, almost contemplative. "None of us are. But running from the past... you'll never outrun it, no matter how fast you go. It'll always be there. All you can do is decide what to do with it."
Lumi looked at him then, really looked at him. There was something in his eyes — something distant, perhaps even colder than what she had seen before. For a moment, he wasn't the stranger who had walked into their lives, but someone who had walked through far more pain and loss than she could ever imagine.
"It's not easy, is it?" she murmured.
He gave her a faint, cryptic smile. "Nothing worth having ever is."
She didn't know why, but that answer made something shift inside her. Maybe it was the way he didn't try to make it sound easy. Or maybe it was the simple fact that he understood.
Lumi exhaled slowly, letting the weight of the words settle around her like dust.
As she looked out toward the distance, she realized that maybe Tsukasa wasn't just here to save them. Maybe he was here to remind them of something else: that survival, while necessary, wasn't enough. There had to be more.
After a few moments of silence, Tsukasa stood up and dusted off his coat. He shot her a look, his expression more serious than it had been before.
"We're heading out. The capital's not far, and I'm sure there's plenty more waiting for us."
Lumi nodded, getting to her feet. For a moment, their eyes met, and in that brief exchange, she realized something: Tsukasa wasn't just someone she was following anymore. He was a reminder — a reminder of what it meant to keep going, even when everything else seemed to crumble.
She was no longer just running. She was moving forward.