In a quiet café in the capital.

Seeking respite from the bitter cold, Yuria and I sought refuge in a nearby café, ordered simple  drinks, and sighed as we watched the cold wind batter the window panes.

“It is lovely to be in a warm place. After more than two hours outside, you start to appreciate these little comforts.”

“Hic…”

“Truly, it seems one must endure some hardship to appreciate the preciousness of life.”

Despite feeling a tad piqued for having stood outside for a whole hour, I observed Yuria hiccuping and lamented the lonely time passed with a somber tone.

“It’s chilly…”

Time had barely slipped by when our  drinks began to arrive at the small circular table.

Novel in hand, Yuria’s favorite carrot cake and two warm cups of yuja  tea appeared, prompting me to flash a grateful smile to the server.

“Thank you for the quick service.”

“Yes…”

The blushing server accepted my tip of three gold with a polite bow.

I returned the sentiment with another thin smile.

Turning away from Yuria who couldn’t lift her head, I wrapped my hands around the steamy cup and once again expressed, albeit with a hint of sadness in my voice,

“It feels like my frozen hands are thawing.”

“Hic… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Yuria couldn’t raise her head, her voice shrinking in. Her murmuring seemed to convey a desperate wish to vanish into a mouse hole, but my heart was slow to recover from the injury it had sustained.

The wicked part of me considered teasing her a bit more, but fearing that the play might drive her to tears, I opted to stop and gingerly set down my teacup.

“Was it very cold?”

“Oh, yes…”

Yuria nodded timidly to my comment about the cold.

I tossed her a playful apology.

“Sorry for teasing. My disposition is such that I can hardly resist the urge to tease.”

“It’s alright… I was to blame, after all…”

Yuria bowed her head once again in apology.

“…I’m really sorry. I must have been out of my mind with  drink yesterday.”

“It’s fine. Anyone can be late. I’ve been there before myself. Once, the lady ordered me to bring chocolate, and you know, if you’re truly sorry, let’s cancel out one of my past wrongs towards you.”

My words were light but carried weight. After all, our current meeting was fueled by the looseness of spirits.

I felt a sense of relief at the opportunity to offset a debt I owed Yuria and to alleviate a bit of the emotional burden.

At my proposal, Yuria hesitated, then struggled to nod.

“I’ll pay for today.”

Yuria declared her intent to open her  purse today—making such a brazen statement was just like her, challenging a man’s pride.

As far as I could remember, Yuria’s situation was none too favorable. An adventurer for a father. Yuria living off a scholarship. Her finances should be stretched thin just by attending school, yet here she claimed she’d cover the costs.

Aware of Yuria’s financial constraints, I protested her suggestion gravely.

“What are you talking about?”

“Huh…?”

“The thickness of a man’s wallet is his pride.”

Pride for a man lies in being able to open his wallet, even if he has to pay on installment. Hence, I made it clear that I had no intention of mooching off Yuria.

Had I not received a settlement from Malik, I would have readily accepted. But now, my wallet was young and wealthy. A little extravagance seemed permissible.

Yuria bowed her head low, seemingly at a loss for words.

“I can afford it, though…”

“I’ll gratefully decline.”

“Thank you…”

“Don’t mention it. Just so you know, if you open your wallet today, you’ll be footing the bill for the foreseeable future.”

“Huh?”

“Once a man’s pride is tarnished, it cannot easily be restored.”

I eased the somewhat subdued atmosphere with my playful banter.

Appreciating Yuria’s attendance today, I forgave her tardiness and, with a bit of a falsehood, claimed I was late as well, offering her some light consolation.

“Anyhow, thank you for coming out today. I had nothing to do otherwise, so thanks to you, it looks like I’ll have a meaningful time.”

“It’s nothing… I was the one who asked you.”

Yuria too expressed her gratitude. Even her subdued voice had a little tremble in it.

“Thank you for coming.”

Thus, our hope to get closer began.

I looked up to see the faintly visible affinity window above Yuria’s head.

[Yuria Lv. 32]
[Job: Academy Student/Potential Saint]
[Affinity: −7]
[Favorite Conversation Topics: Friends/Volunteering/Justice/Handsome Men/First Love/Life Savior/Father/(New)Ricardo/(New)Budding First Love/(New)Crazy… Is my outfit alright?]
[Disliked Conversation Topics: Olivia/Two-faced People/Liars/Financial Woes/(New)Heretic/(New)Self-perceived Incompetence]

From what I could recall, the affinity score was previously at −81, but now it represented significant progress.

If things continued this way, Yuria was set to become the world’s strongest, making it feasible for me to live off her in our old age.

Slowly unfolding the petals of conversation, I initiated dialogue with Yuria.

Which topic would be best?

With my dual memories of the novel and contemporary life, I pondered carefully. Yuria’s preferred conversations were surely the wholesome ones.

Unlike the lady or me, known for engaging in illicit talks of stepping over others, Yuria would likely favor discussions revolving around moral narratives.

Perhaps flowers.

Dolls.

Or maybe the everyday life of the Academy.

After a careful thought,

I opened my mouth to speak.

“You look lovely today.”

Indeed, starting with this seemed like the best course of action.

*

At a hospital somewhere in the capital.

The Desmond family waited in grave silence for their turn, watching other patients enter the consultation rooms with earnest expressions.

A past version of the Desmonds would have summoned the doctor to their estate for medical checks, but after enduring a year of downturn, they had learned to live more modestly. Despite their vast wealth, they patiently awaited their turn—also seizing the chance for a quiet date with Olivia.

“Patient number three, please come in.”

Hearing the nurse call the next patient, Olivia looked at Darbav and asked,

“Daddy, isn’t it us being called?”

“No, we’re number four. Up next.”

“That’s not right.”

Olivia presented the ticket showing ‘number three’ to Darbav’s eyes.

Confused, Darbav peered,

“What?”

He looked at the number four ticket in his hand, feeling an ominous hunch as to why Olivia held that ticket.

“You’re quite the sleight of hand artist.”

“I didn’t steal it.”

“What…!?”

Olivia pointed to the ticket in Darbav’s hand, stating it was his draw while she held her number three ticket to her chest, asserting herself proudly,

“That’s mine.”

“No…”

Tears lightly filled Darbav’s eyes.

“Not having stolen it but drawn it yourself…! You’ve grown, Olivia.”

“Yes. I thought about snatching number two. Ricardo would scold me otherwise.”

Touched by Olivia’s growth and her new refinement of patience, Kyle, cradling his own number five ticket, trembled with emotion,

“She’s all grown up…”

“Yes.”

Swallowing waves of emotion, Kyle nodded.

“Let’s go…”

He began to push the wheelchair into the clinic.

And that’s when it happened.

A presumptuous green-haired upstart breezed past Kyle and Darbav, striding into the clinic.

Olivia watched the arrogant figure with confusion,

“That’s my turn, right?”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

Olivia asked once more,

“But who is that, cutting in?”

“Exactly.”

“That bastard…”

United, the Desmonds marched with ominous resolve toward the youth with green hair.

Olivia was peeved just because, Darbav and Kyle because their moment of grace had been interrupted.

Standing sternly behind the boy, Kyle gave the handles of Olivia’s wheelchair to Darbav and spoke with a dangerously calm voice,

“Hey, Green.”

“What?”

“Want to be admitted?”

As Ruin turned, a menacing Kyle caught his eye.

“What?”

Kyle tersely commanded Ruin.

“Go get hospitalized.”