There's something strange about silence.
Not the kind that lingers between awkward classmates or the hush of a library late at night. No, I mean the kind that stays with you through every meal, every walk across campus, every hour buried in books that no longer have meaning. It's the silence that follows when someone you trusted walks away and never looks back.
That silence and I... we've become close.
Ever since Eris left, I've been akone. Not physically, no. I've got friends Zanoba, Cliff, even Elinalise pops up from time to time. Fitz too, though he's... well, mysterious. They're good people. But none of them fill the space Eris left. That part of me is still empty. Like a cup cracked down the middle capable of holding something, but never quite full.
I came to Ranoa to run away. To cure my ED, to bury myself in magic, in books, in anything that kept me from thinking. I thought if I kept studying, if I just got stronger, I could eventually forget. Forget how it felt to be loved... and then abandoned.
But it's funny, isn't it? You can run across the world, change cities, change your name if you want but you can't outrun your own thoughts.
That's when she appeared.
—
Ariel Anemoi Asura.
I'd heard the name before, of course. A princess of the Asura Kingdom. Political exile. Surrounded by her loyal retainers Luke and the ever-serene Fitz. She was royalty. Composed. Untouchable. A woman who knew how to control a room with just a glance.
And yet, for some reason, she invited me to tea.
At first, I thought it was a mistake. Or a prank. Maybe even a trap. Why would someone like her want to speak with someone like me?
The first tea party was... stiff. Polite. Dormal. I had no idea what to say. She spoke of books, culture, student council affairs, and I just nodded along, trying to figure out if I was supposed to be there or if Fitz accidentally sent the invitation to the wrong guy.
But then she invited me again.
And again.
—
There was no request. No mission. No obvious political motive. She never once asked for my power, my skills, or even my opinion on matters of state.
Instead, she asked me what I liked to do.
We talked about magic theory one time. Another day, about a ridiculous romance novel she and Fitz had been reading. She even asked about my family—something no one at the Academy ever did.
I didn't know what to make of it.
I'd been so used to people wanting something from me. Power. Protection. Magic. Answers. Or worse people avoiding me altogether, like I was too damaged to deal with.
But Ariel... she just sat across from me and listened.
Sometimes she smiled. Other times, she looked tired, like the whole world was pressing down on her shoulders, but she still kept showing up.
That confused me.
No... that scared me.
Because a part of me had started looking forward to those meetings. That quiet hour in the afternoon where the world paused and it was just her and me. No expectations. No battles. No heartbreak.
Just tea, talk, and time.
—
But I couldn't admit that, not even to myself.
Not after what happened with Eris.
Not after waking up to an empty bed and an emptier heart.
That kind of affection that kind of closeness was dangerous. It twisted the mind. Made you think things would last.
And when it ended, you were left staring at your hands wondering what you did wrong.
So when I looked at Ariel, I kept my distance emotionally, at least.
Even when she laughed at my jokes. Even when she brushed back her hair and looked at me like I was something more than a tool or a project. Even when she smiled that tired little smile that felt like it was just for me.
I told myself it didn't matter.
She was a princess. I was a broken magician pretending to be a student. Our worlds didn't align.
If I told her I liked her what would she even say? Would she smile and let me down gently? Or would she say what I feared the most?
"You're useful to me, Rudeus. That's all."
Or worse... would she lie?
Would she pretend to feel something just to keep me close?
Those thoughts swirled in my head like storm clouds. They kept me up at night. They stopped me from acting. From hoping.
Because at the end of the day, hope felt more terrifying than rejection.
—
Still... the silence I once welcomed now felt different.
It wasn't peaceful anymore.
It was... hollow.
And the more time I spent in Ariel's presence, the more that silence started to crack.
I didn't know what it meant.
Not yet.
But I could feel something changing...
And it scared me.
—
(Short Timeskip)
I've never been good at reading between the lines.
Maybe I was in my past life, but ever since coming to this world, subtlety has been my weakness. If someone didn't outright tell me what they were thinking, chances are I missed it entirely. So when Ariel kept inviting me to those private tea sessions, part of me still thought, She probably just wants something eventually... Maybe she was playing the long game.
But then weeks passed. Then a few months.
And still, nothing.
No requests. No grand revelations. No power plays. She just talked. Or listened. Or complained about Fitz's terrible taste in food. Sometimes she laughed at my dumb jokes, and even though I pretended to act cool, I always looked forward to hearing her laugh again.
There was one particular meeting I'll never forget.
It started like any other kight chat, warm tea, soft sunlight streaming through the windows. But then, I brought up something completely random: a funny scene in a novel Cliff had recommended. The conversation somehow derailed into... preferences.
Romantic preferences.
And she, with zero shame and total confidence, tilted her head and said:
"I personally like men with strong magical ability... and a little trauma."
I nearly spat out my tea.
"Excuse me?" I asked, blinking rapidly.
She just sipped her tea like it was the most casual thing in the world. "Well, I'm not saying I'm attracted to damaged men, but I suppose there's something fascinating about someone who's lived through pain and still chooses to care."
That line lived in my brain rent-free for days.
—
Later that week, I was walking by Fitz's quarters and overheard a whisper between her and Luke.
I didn't mean to eavesdrop I swear it wasn't on purpose but I caught a line from Luke saying:
"If Her Highness reads one more of those adult romance novels, she's going to start scaring people."
"Although what surprising is that she stop harassing the maids"
I froze.
Wait Ariel reads those kinds of books... NAH for sure those are Luke? And wait! What about the maids again!?
Suddenly, a few memories clicked into place.
The blush that crept up her face when I mentioned the word "bondage" while joking about enchantment spells. The slight smirk when I described a mana transfer technique involving physical contact. The way she seemed way too interested when I once muttered something about "succubus anatomy."
At first, I thought she was just cultured.
Now I realized Ariel Anemoi Asura, the cool, refined princess of Asura, was a closet pervert.
It was like the sky opened up and the heavens whispered: You're not alone.
After that, our talks got... weirder. Not in a bad way, just... more human.
We teased each other. I once told her she had a "mana kink," and she didn't deny it just raised an eyebrow and said, "And if I do?"
I didn't know how to respond. I think I just died inside a little.
But that was the moment it hit me.
—
She wasn't just a princess.
She wasn't just a political figure or a student council face.
She was a person.
A deeply tired, burdened, intelligent, slightly perverted person just like the rest of us. And for the first time in a long time, I found myself wanting to see more of that person.
Her sarcasm. Her exhaustion. Her joy. Her flaws.
Even when she got snappy with Luke. Even when she looked like she hadn't slept in days. Even when she clutched the edge of the table with white knuckles, pretending everything was under control.
I noticed. I couldn't help it anymore.
Something inside me had shifted.
At first, I thought it was simple curiosity. Then I chalked it up to emotional confusion residual feelings leftover from Eris. But no, it wasn't like that. This was different.
With Eris, it was passion. Chaos. Sparks that burned too fast and left ashes.
With Ariel... it was slower. Quieter. Like warmth seeping in after a long winter.
It scared me.
Because now, I wasn't sure what to do with it.
—
There were moments I considered saying something. Maybe during our fourth tea meeting, when she complimented the way I explained mana theory. Or the eighth one, when we laughed so hard over Fitz's awkward attempt at telling a joke that we both cried a little. Or maybe the eleventh time, when she said:
"You know, Rudeus... You don't have to pretend to be okay around me."
I froze.
I wanted to say something then. I wanted to say that her presence made it easier to be okay. That I hadn't felt this kind of comfort since...
Well. Since bfore.
But I didn't.
Because the other part of me the broken, logical part kept whispering:
"She doesn't see you that way."
"She's just being nice."
"She's trying to recruit you for her political schemes."
"You're a means to an end."
Even if she said otherwise, would I believe her?
I didn't know.
That's the problem with getting hurt. You start questioning sincerity.
But I'm not blind.
I see the way she looks at me sometimes when she thinks I'm not watching. The way she relaxes her shoulders when it's just the two of us. The way her mask slips just a little.
And the truth is...
If she ever did say those words "I like you," or even "I want you to stay by my side"—I think I'd believe them now.
Because I've seen the side of her no one else gets to see.
And I... I think I'm starting to fall.
—
There's something dangerous about familiarity.
Something beautiful, too.
I didn't notice it at first. I didn't let myself. Not when the pain of the past still held me by the throat when every time I looked at someone with even the skightest hint of affection, a voice in my head screamed: Don't trust it. Don't go through that again.
But she made it hard.
Ariel Anemoi Asura, of all people, made it hard to stay distant.
She never asked for anything grand, never demanded I open up. But she never looked away either not when I said something awkward, not when I got too serious, not even when I got quiet. She just sat there, as if saying: I'm not going anywhere.
That's a dangerous kind of patience. The kind that seeps in.
The kind that doesn't burn, but lingers.
When I looked at her before, I saw duty, burden, and calculated confidence. I assumed that was all there was a monarch-to-be doing her best to survive. But now?
I see something softer behind her smile. I see exhaustion she tries to mask with poise. I see small acts of rebellion the way she slouches ever so slightly when no one's watching, or how she sneaks sweets into her study desk despite lecturing Fitz about discipline. I see her hesitate when she speaks her mind, not out of fear, but out of... consideration.
And I feel myself being pulled in.
Not like with Eris. No this isn't a wildfire. It's something more... patient. More grown.
Sometimes, when we're just sitting there in silence, I'll glance at her and wonder: What if I stayed? Not because she needed me, not because she asked but because I wanted to.
Would it be so wrong?
What scares me most is... I think she'd actually let me. Not for political gain. Not as a tool. Just me.
But then the doubt creeps back in.
Because she's her.
And I'm me.
She's a future queen, a woman born of steel and grace.
And I'm a man still stitching the pieces of himself back together.
Still, she looks at me like I'm whole. Like I matter.
And maybe that's why I've started to dream again.
—
When I walk through the halls of Ranoa now, I find myself looking forward to our meetings. Not just because of the tea or the books or even the jokes. But because that room our room feels like the only place I don't have to pretend anymore.
No one's asking me to be "Rudeus the Quagmire" "The One Who Defeated a Demon" I'm just... Rudeus.
And she's just Ariel.
Somehow, in that tiny, impossible sliver of space between expectation and obligation, we found something real.
I don't know what to call it yet.
It's not quite love.
But it's not not love either.
It's something that fills the silence with warmth, that leaves behind a strange ache when the meeting ends, that makes me want to walk a little slower when I leave just to hold on a bit longer.
And maybe, just maybe...
Even if I haven't said it aloud
Even if I'm still not sure what I mean when I think it
Even if a part of me still hesitates at the edge of that cliff
I know this much now:
She's not just a part of my days.
She's become part of my thoughts.
Part of my quiet.
Part of the peace I never thought I'd earn.
And I...
I think I'm not just falling for her.
I think I already have, especially my little buddy here.
Yup... How did things end up like this
Although it does not feel bad especially now that ONE of my HARDEST problem have been cured...
Yup...