The door clicked shut behind her, soft and final. Sora stood with her back pressed against the wood, her fingers lingering on the handle as the quiet of her room settled around her.
Suddenly, she moved. Crossing the floor in a few sharp steps, she flopped face-first onto the bed and buried her face into the pillows.
"A date, huh?" she muttered, her voice muffled.
The word felt foreign and heavy, yet a stubborn, burning warmth rapidly surged across her cheeks. She pressed into the fabric, trying to block out the relentless memories of the training hall—the tight space, his hand bracing her back, and the arresting intensity of his dark pupils.
"S-Stop," she whispered. Her heart was still hammering wildly against her ribs. "Is this strange, fluffy feeling what people call love?"
The concept felt far more dangerous than a date, like stepping blindly onto unstable ground. She groaned softly into the pillow. "I don't know anything about this. Maybe I should ask Illiana."
She froze, shaking her head violently against the sheets. "No, no, absolutely not. If she finds out, she will tease me to death."
Sora curled inward, tightly hugging a pillow. "I hope my date with him will be a secret.",
But a practical crisis quickly set in. She had no idea what to wear or how to act;
"After all… this is my first time hanging out with a boy. In fact, Null-san is the first boy I've interacted with this closely since my childhood."
"Hah. What to do."
The words felt… delicate.
"Null-san," she breathed, her fingers tightening on the sheets. "You really unraveled me."
The faint warmth in her chest lingered, but it suddenly dimmed as an old shadow crept back into her mind. She hadn't felt this 'acceptable' about getting close to someone since that child.
"I still haven't fulfilled my promise to that child," she murmured, her gaze turning distant.
A sharp, painful fragment of a memory surfaced. In her mind, she saw a blurry silhouette standing in a fading recollection. The face was entirely wiped of definition, but the features were unmistakable—the Dark-black hair and dark-black irises that seemed to hold a starry void.
It was a look that felt hauntingly familiar, in the way something becomes when it almost belongs to you… but doesn't anymore.
"I said I would find him and save him, even if it takes an eternity," she whispered, her hands beginning to tremble.
Her chest tightened with sudden guilt.
Was she even allowed the luxury of falling in love when she knew her destined path would eventually tear her life apart?
Silence offered no answers. Sora curled tighter, the heavy weight of her choices pressing down on her. Yet, as she felt her erratic pulse, a deeper truth broke through the anxiety. Her very soul was screaming to get closer to Null, a visceral pull she knew they both shared.
A bittersweet smile touched her lips, hidden against the pillow. "Whatever this mysterious connection between us is, it's either my greatest blessing... or my worst curse."
Slowly, the chaotic storm inside her began to quiet. Her breathing softened, and somewhere between her unyielding old vow and the terrifying warmth of a new tomorrow, Sora finally drifted into sleep.
...
The next day arrived quietly, as if the world had collectively decided not to interfere. By the time the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in a softened, bleeding gold, it was already four in the afternoon.
Inside her room, Sora stood before the mirror. Still. Silent.
She wasn't looking at her reflection, but rather at the unfamiliar, restless weight sitting in her chest. It hadn't left her since last night. If anything, it had only grown warmer and louder. Pressing her fingers lightly against her collarbone, her heartbeat answered immediately—fast, uneven, and entirely out of her control.
"Oh my," she whispered. There was no conviction behind it, only a quiet surrender.
Her gaze finally drifted to her reflection, and she hesitated. The girl staring back didn't look like the Saintess of Living Radiance. She looked like a girl preparing for her first date. The thought alone sent a fresh, blinding wave of heat to her face.
"Going on a date with Null..."The words slipped out, quiet and fragile. Shaking her head, she turned away from the mirror, paced the floor, and immediately turned back. It was an unwinnable, ridiculous internal war.
"I can't go like this," she muttered, stopping before her wardrobe.
It stood before her like an unsolved puzzle. Rows of neatly arranged outfits mocked her—elegant, refined, and entirely appropriate for a Saintess. Not for this. Her hand hovered over a pristine white ceremonial dress, then recoiled. Too formal. She reached for a soft blue robe.
Too official.
She needed something modest and simple. Something that didn't scream her title, but instead just said Sora.
After what felt like an entire internal saga, she finally chose. It was a flowing white dress, far lighter than her usual dresses, with delicate embroidery tracing the edges like quiet clouds. The fabric caught the sunset like fresh snow, moving gracefully whenever she breathed. It wasn't extravagant, but it suited her perfectly—gentle, unassuming, and beautiful without trying to be.
She changed slowly, as if the act itself carried a profound weight. Standing before the mirror once more, she examined her hair. The white, silk-like strands fell naturally over her shoulders. She gathered a small portion to one side, hesitated, and then let it drop. Too deliberate. Natural was better.
Leaning closer to inspect her face, she immediately regretted it. The faint blush on her cheeks refused to leave, and her fingers were trembling.
"Why am I like this today?" she murmured, adjusting a strand near her cheek.
She turned in place, watching the dress sway gently around her. A small, soft smile touched her lips. "He will definitely say something unnecessary."
Fixing her hair one last time, she nodded to herself. "This is fine." It wasn't perfect, but it was real. It was her.
She opened the door and stepped out.
...
The corridor stretched ahead, quiet and bathed in a golden evening light. Sora walked calmly, her movements carrying their usual fluid grace. No one would suspect a thing. Everything was perfectly under control.
Until she took a few steps and fate, with impeccable timing, threw a hurdle directly into her path.
"Soooraaa~"
The voice was playful, dangerous, and far too familiar.
Sora froze internally, but her outer expression remained a flawless, unreadable mask. "Illiana."
The girl approached with a slow, knowing smile, her eyes sharp and hungry for details. "Where are you going?"
"Going out,"
Illiana's smile widened by a fraction. "Out? Dressed like that?" Her gaze traveled very deliberately from head to toe, then back up.
Sora resisted the urge to flinch. "Yes."
Illiana circled her once, like a predator evaluating prey. "Not ceremonial. Not official. Not entirely casual either... Interesting."
Sora's eye twitched slightly. "I have business in the city."
Illiana stopped, leaning in way too close. "Business...?"
"Yes."
A long, agonizing pause followed. Finally, Illiana leaned back, her smile turning bright, innocent, and thoroughly suspicious. "Alright," she said simply. "I won't keep you. Go on."
Sora didn't hesitate. She walked past her, keeping her pace steady, straight, and controlled until she turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
Once Sora was gone, Illiana's dangerous, wide smirk returned. "Very suspicious,"
she giggled softly, her eyes gleaming with absolute certainty.
Unaware of the storm she had just narrowly escaped, Sora walked briskly toward Lumeris City, where a promise, a connection, and a boy were waiting for the evening to bloom.