The market was louder the deeper they went.
Vendors shouted prices, laughter spilled from every corner, and the air was thick with the smell of roasted food. Kaito moved easily through the crowd, clearly familiar with every turn and shortcut, while Eryo followed with quiet fascination.
"Alright," Kaito said, stopping suddenly. "This one."
The stall in front of them crackled with heat. Skewers of fish and meat sizzled over open flames, the edges slightly charred.
Eryo leaned closer without realizing it. The smell made his stomach twist in a way that felt… old.
Kaito ordered two without asking.
When Eryo took his first bite, his eyes widened.
"…Oh," he said. "Oh, that's good."
Kaito laughed. "Told you."
Dex sat immediately, tail wagging, staring at the food like his life depended on it.
As Eryo chewed, the world softened.
The noise dimmed—not vanished, just faded—like it had been turned down.
—Memory (Eryo's POV)—
Warm sun. Salt air.
Eryo's body was massive then, scales shimmering beneath the ocean's surface as he circled lazily near a cliff. He surfaced just in time to see a familiar shape perched above.
A dragon.
Blue flames flickered harmlessly along Kaito's scales as he crouched near the edge, holding something small in one claw.
"You're late," Dragon-Kaito said, amused.
Eryo snorted water into the air. You started without me.
Kaito grinned and tossed the food down.
Perfectly charred fish.
Eryo caught it easily, biting into it with satisfaction. Still burning it, he teased.
"Because you like it that way," Kaito replied.
They ate together—dragon and sea serpent—watching the waves roll in. No urgency. No threats. Just warmth, shared jokes, and the comfort of familiarity.
If nothing else survives, Kaito had said casually, this will.
Eryo laughed.
The memory faded gently, like a tide pulling back.
The market rushed in again.
Eryo blinked, then laughed—quietly at first, then genuinely.
Kaito looked at him, confused. "What?"
"You always overcook it," Eryo said, still smiling. "Even back then."
Kaito paused.
Then he laughed too. "Guess some habits don't die."
Dex barked loudly, as if offended he hadn't been included, and Kaito sighed, tearing off a piece of skewer for him.
They leaned against a stone wall nearby, eating and watching the crowd pass. The moment felt easy. Natural.
Eryo glanced at Kaito. "I think… no matter what shape we take, we always find our way back to the same things."
Kaito nodded, relaxed. "Yeah. Seems like it."
They finished their food, tossed the sticks away, and moved on through the market—shoulder to shoulder, laughter mixing with the noise of the village.
Not warriors.
Not legends.
Just two friends, enjoying a meal that had followed them across lifetimes.