It was hard to say when it officially happened.
After saving Himeko… after watching her cry in his arms…
Somewhere between shared silences and quiet looks, their bond had deepened into something unspoken — but understood.
They didn't need to say it out loud.
But by the time a week had passed, everyone around them already knew:
john and Himeko Murata were together.
Two arms, forming a warm harbor;
A pool of tenderness, transformed into clear affection.
Who is Himeko Murata?
A-ranked Valkyrie of Schicksal, current captain of the Hyperion battleship, and an unquestionably mature woman.
How could someone like her cry so easily?
Yet, she couldn't hold back.
It was midday. The sky was blue, the clouds drifted leisurely, and the wind was gentle.
A golden sun shone down, casting all of St. Freya Academy in a warm, beautiful glow.
-----------------
Time flew by. In the blink of an eye, a week had passed since John and Himeko Murata had first established their relationship.
During that week, John continued with work and training like usual. His life, if not completely repetitive, was close enough.
Plain and dull as always.
But within that dull life, a few delightful and heartwarming variables had begun to surface.
Kiana, the overly eager little kitten desperate to improve, still hadn't managed to cram the unfamiliar academic knowledge into her head, but had taken to practicing calligraphy with clumsy determination.
As her one and only designated calligraphy teacher, John looked at her grand "masterpiece" and commented:
"Sure, why not? As long as it's legible, it's fine."
On the other hand, Raiden Mei, who had tasted some benefit from the psychological counseling, had also taken to visiting the infirmary frequently to "discuss life" with John .
It was clear she still harbored doubts and confusion about the power within her, even asking strange questions like whether she should use it to save the world.
To that, John responded:
"You just happened to gain power — that doesn't mean you're obligated to save anyone. Before thinking about saving the world, think about whether there's someone you absolutely must protect."
What he received in return was a long, quiet gaze from the girl.
At that moment, the boy under the sunlight quietly pushed aside his script for the next seminar and faced her earnestly.
The voice he used, neither heavy nor insincere, held just the right amount of tenderness and solemnity.
"Mei, I don't need you to protect the world. But if you ever want to protect something or someone, I'll help you."
"Because that's what I do."
He was always so calm and nonchalant when saying such things. No preaching, no burden, no manipulation.
Just honesty.
And perhaps... a little bit of warmth that made it all seem possible.
Mei looked at him, then suddenly turned her gaze aside and muttered softly:
"...That's cheating."
That kind of gentle trust — it was far too foul play
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