"I was wondering why you suddenly insisted on escorting me back, saying you wanted to send me off. Turns out it was just an excuse to sneak back here and wipe out the bandit camp. But why didn't you just tell me? Why send me back first and come back on your own? I realized something was off as soon as you left. I thought it through, and sure enough—it was last night, right from the spot you left."
Right after their encounter, just as Allen tried to explain, Roxy had already glared at him and wordlessly began burning corpses with fire-based magic.
He had no chance to speak. Instead, he stood by and watched her perform a flawless disposal operation, and then she dragged him by the sleeve to escape the scene. Only now did they begin to talk seriously.
In the woods, Blue Mama was washing Allen's hair with boiled water using magic. She stood on a large boulder behind him, pouring warm water through a hovering water ball scorched with fire magic, which streamed down his body. A reddish puddle of bloody water pooled at his feet.
Allen was fully clothed. The two had figured the blood was too thick and foul, so during hair washing, they decided to bathe him head to toe.
"Uh… honestly, it was too dangerous."
"And it wouldn't be dangerous if you went alone?"
Roxy squinted at him, fingers sliding gently over his scalp, untangling clumps of blood-matted hair.
Allen sat against a tree, expression a little helpless. He thought he'd fooled her all the way—only to find she had figured him out the moment they parted.
Why didn't she notice while they were still together?
Strange.
"I was… confident in myself."
Roxy rapped his head with sharp, crisp poks, like knocking a watermelon.
Feeling guilty about using her as a tool, Allen didn't resist. But when the knocking didn't stop, he felt like a turtle being poked back into its shell at a seafood market.
He tried to block it, but Roxy just happened to change tactics—fingers now washing his hair.
Then—
Their fingers interlocked.
Allen froze. His fingers instinctively tightened.
Soft. Smooth. Warm... her hands are so delicate—just a bit more pressure and they'd break.
Wait! What am I doing?!
Startled, he realized Roxy's hand had stiffened.
Looking up, he saw her blankly staring at their interlocked fingers. The moment she noticed his gaze, she looked away.
Her voice fluttered in the wind, trembling slightly.
"N-Next time something like this happens, write me a letter, okay? I might be able to help. After all… we did agree to become adventurers together one day."
"...Okay."
"If it's urgent, you can even ask Paul-sama for help. He's jōkyū (Advanced) in all three schools. Doing this alone is too dangerous. Everyone will worry. You should apologize when we get back."
"...Okay."
"Are your hands okay? Any wounds? Do you need chiryō-jutsu (Healing Magic)?"
"...Okay. Er, no. I'm fine."
"But I remember you said combining nijūzan (Twenty Slash) with ōgi (Secret Technique) is a big burden. Didn't you use that just now? I saw you practicing it lately…"
"Yeah, it's a burden, but it's fine."
"So you were lying to me before?"
"No! I mean, I really—"
"Kamigami no ai no gotoku yasashii megumi no kami yo. Kono mono no kizu o iyashi, kenkō na karada ni modoshitamae—chiryō-jutsu! (O merciful goddess, gentle as a mother's love, heal this one's wounds and restore him to health—Healing Magic!)"
"...Thanks."
"You're welcome. Still feel unwell?"
"Not at all."
Roxy had long since returned her gaze to Allen. In the night, their eyes met—his looking up, hers looking down. They said nothing more.
The water had stopped. Maybe she'd lost concentration... or maybe she just wanted to see if he was truly injured. Or maybe—
She just wanted to look at him.
No one could tell what Roxy was thinking. She only stared, troubled, then gently pulled her hand away.
Only then did Allen realize he'd held her hand the entire time.
He looked at his palm, dumbfounded.
For someone who had once spent weeks as a masseur hiding in a brothel at age six, Allen now blushed like a child.
Roxy took a breath and turned around, conjuring another large water ball and surrounding it with fire magic to heat it.
"The forest air is really nice at night."
"Ah... yeah."
Still turned away, she pointed at the water.
"...Go on. Wash up. You smell like blood."
"...Sure."
After Allen washed himself and his clothes, they barely finished drying them with Roxy facing away the entire time, covering her face as she used magic with poor efficiency. By the time they were done, dawn had arrived.
They walked together through the woods to the road.
"Don't forget to write."
"I will."
Wearing his now-wrinkled clothes, Allen waved goodbye.
The birds chirped. Roxy gave him a bright smile.
"Then, see you in the future."
Only then did Allen realize he had left in such a rush the day before, he hadn't even waited for Roxy's reply.
Scratching his cheek in embarrassment, he watched her back away, waving at him.
Her lips moved, like she wanted to say something more. But when she saw his dazed expression, she held back, blinked, smiled faintly… and turned toward the city.
Allen watched her go until she vanished.
Then he looked down at his hand.
Sunlight from the east bathed his palm in golden fire. Even so, it still felt cold.
Maybe it was because summer mornings were chilly? But then, why was he sweating?
If it was just the heat of last night, why was it only his palm sweating?
He thought about it for a while but gave up.
He still had to return to the Greyrat home.
So he made the simplest conclusion he could:
The warmth of a summer morning... still didn't compare to the temperature of Roxy's palm.
It wasn't hard to figure out.
(End of Chapter)
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