The seasons shifted with the passing months, yet one thing remained unwavering—Aya always waited in the same place whenever Nine was away. Whether beneath the pale pink blossoms of spring, the golden haze of summer, the auburn leaves of autumn, or the crystalline frost of winter, she remained.
It was an unspoken promise, a quiet ritual carved into the rhythm of her life.
But to Colla, that devotion felt impenetrable, like an iron wall she could never breach. She watched from the sidelines as time molded them into something more striking, more inevitable.
Aya, once a sweet-faced girl, had grown into a woman whose beauty could stop strangers in their tracks. She moved with a grace so natural it seemed effortless, her mere presence drawing attention. And yet, Colla took it upon herself to stand guard—shielding her from lingering gazes and grabby hands as though protecting a rare, delicate gem.
Nine, however, had become something else entirely.
No longer just a reckless young warrior, he had transformed into a figure who could silence entire taverns the moment he walked in. His once-boyish features had sharpened, his piercing gaze capable of melting hearts or freezing them solid. His broad shoulders carried both strength and menace, and his name alone sent shivers through those who heard it.
Colla would admit—"You two would make a sickeningly attractive couple". But her fear of Nine inspired her to keep it from saying it aloud.
---
Today, Nine had finally returned.
His longest absence had stretched beyond a month, and with each journey, the time he spent away seemed to shrink. As if he could no longer bear to be apart from Aya.
The moment he stepped inside, his dark eyes found her.
"Aya."
Her name, spoken in that deep, rich voice, sent a visible shudder through her.
Aya melted into him, burying her face in the familiar scent of steel, smoke, and something uniquely Nine.
Colla, ever the observer, silently excused herself, stepping outside the door. Nine had made it clear before—he despised her watchful gaze intruding on their moments.
Inside, he wasted no time.
He lifted Aya by the waist with effortless ease, settling her onto his lap as they sat on the edge of the bed, facing each other. His touch was firm yet tender, his presence all-consuming.
"I was aiming for Greed," he murmured, his lips grazing her skin. "It's taking longer than expected. I've already killed… thousands. Taken everything. Everything."
His arms tightened around her, as if bracing himself against the weight of his own words.
Aya traced soothing circles on his back, her voice gentle. "Maybe this path isn't yours to take." She tilted her head, searching his eyes. "You're strong, Nine. And wise. But it's not your responsibility to bear the weight of the world. You can protect us. You are my world."
Nine pulled away slightly, his gaze unreadable. "It's not as shallow as you think, my love," he murmured. "I will continue this path."
Disappointment flickered across Aya's face.
Her lips trembled as she shifted away, inching toward the edge of the bed. But before she could escape, firm hands caught her waist, pulling her back into the heat of his embrace.
"Aya…" His voice was dangerously low, sending a shiver down her spine.
"My Aya," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "I know you've been preparing to leave me."
She stilled.
Nine effortlessly flipped her onto her back, caging her beneath him. His dark eyes burned into hers.
"I wouldn't leave you," she protested breathlessly.
Nine laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Not today. Not tomorrow. But one day."
He dipped his head, inhaling deeply against her neck.
"Roses," he murmured, as if committing the scent to memory.
Aya shivered. "N-Nine…"
"You've become a fine woman," he said, his fingers tracing from her thighs, up her abdomen, before finally cupping her chest.
The featherlight touch sent heat curling through her—an unfamiliar sensation, something new and intoxicating. A soft, breathy sound escaped her lips.
Nine froze.
His eyes widened as if struck by lightning. He pulled back abruptly, staring at his hands—then lower. His crotch was hardened.
Realization hit him.
Aya, flushed with embarrassment, quickly adjusted her dress, avoiding his gaze.
Nine exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before hesitantly glancing at her. "Did I scare you?"
Aya hesitated, then shook her head. "I… I don't know. We've been intimate before, but this—this is different."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Nine's expression. Then, suddenly—
He smirked.
"Was I a natural in bed?"
The two virgins burst into laughter, though it quickly dissolved into awkward silence.
Then, Nine grinned. "Shall we start a family now?"
Aya's face darkened. "Then stop going to battle. I don't want a dead husband."
"Once I succeed, I will."
"You won't change your mind, will you—"
Nine raised a finger, silencing her. His expression turned serious.
"Wait for me."
Without another word, he stood and walked into the bathroom.
When he returned, he tossed a sheet onto the bed—the very one he had used to, well… deal with his problem.
"Come," he said, voice lighter now. "It took me a long time to find a suitable house. I'll show it to you."
Aya tilted her head. "Why aren't you holding my hand?"
Nine sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Because if I touch you now, I might get hard again. Just hurry and stay close to Colla."
Aya wasn't entirely sure what he meant by hard, but she obeyed nonetheless.
---
The carriage ride lasted nine hours, the road winding through valleys and towering trees.
Nine held the reins, his focus unwavering, while Colla entertained Aya with tales of her past mercenary work.
When they finally arrived, Colla was the first to hop off, stretching her legs. Nine reached out a hand to help Aya down. She took it without hesitation.
The moment her feet touched the ground, a soft breeze wrapped around them, carrying the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers.
Before them stood a quaint house, nestled within a clearing. A stone fountain bubbled softly nearby, encircled by wildflowers and towering trees. The scene was something out of a dream—both mystical and cozy, a perfect sanctuary.
"Does it suit your taste?" Nine asked, watching her intently.
Aya's face lit up. Her eyes shimmered with unfiltered delight.
Without hesitation, she threw her arms around him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before dashing off, twirling among the flowers. Her fingertips brushed against soft petals, her laughter blending with the rustling leaves.
Colla smirked. "I don't know what else you could possibly need, but this place has everything."
She whistled before strolling away—just in time to avoid Nine's irritation.
But Nine hardly noticed.
His gaze remained fixed on Aya—on her radiant smile, on the way she moved so freely, so beautifully.
For a moment, all else faded.
There was only her.