And then—the moment slid forward like a drifting cloud.

“Let me go! And stop rubbing up against me like a clingy cat!”

“No way. Ruyu’s not letting you go,” her voice rang like a bright bell.

“Why?” My breath puffed like winter mist.

“Because you’re Ruyu’s toy, her trophy, bound by a red thread to play with Ruyu forever.”

“Ugh… so scary!” Fear crawled over me like cold rain.

“How rude! What’s scary about Ruyu?!” Her ears bristled like blades of grass.

“It’s just scary, okay!” The words skittered like a shadow at dusk.

“Mm… that scared face is cute too.” She swallowed; the gulp slid like a bead of water.

“See? Totally terrifying!!” My heart thumped like a drum under storm clouds.

We locked into a stalemate, frost between us like a sheet of ice. No matter how I pleaded, Ruyu wouldn’t budge; there wasn’t even room to bargain. Tears felt close, like a swollen tide—I don’t want to be someone’s toy for life.

…

“Fine. Ruyu isn’t unreasonable. How will you agree to stay by Ruyu’s side?” Her voice softened like warm tea in lamplight.

In the end, maybe seeing my stubbornness blaze like a torch, Ruyu grudgingly took a step back like a pebble rolling from a path.

“Hmm… well…” My words drifted like smoke from a brazier.

To be honest, I had no idea what to do. Having Ruyu send me to the fourth floor was impossible. The pass condition here is to leave the Enchanted Forest or defeat Ruyu. Leaving the forest is out of reach for me, like walking out of fog that never lifts, so that leaves…

“Oh? From your face, you’ve decided, haven’t you?” Ruyu cut in, her smile thin as a crescent moon.

“Yeah.” I nodded like a reed bobbing in wind and said my piece. “Last night doesn’t count. You ambushed me when I was exhausted and starving—that wasn’t honorable. Fight me again, when I’m at my best. If I still lose then, I’ll stay by your side without complaint.”

“Stay by Ruyu’s side…” For some reason, her pretty face flushed like spring peach. The fluffy rabbit ears on her head perked and swayed, grass in a breeze—so cute, my fingers itched to touch.

“Ahem! Fine, Ruyu agrees!” She snapped her fan-sharp tone back into place. “As mercy for giving you a second chance, Ruyu will pick the contest.”

“Uh, fine.” My agreement fell like a pebble into still water.

Not a fight? What else can we even compete in? My thoughts spun like leaves in a whirl.

As if reading me, Ruyu smiled, moonlight on a pond. “Ruyu doesn’t like hacking and slashing. Let’s do something peaceful.”

“You don’t like fighting… then why ambush me last night?!” My glare sparked like flint.

“That was a welcome gift for challengers… okay?” She shrugged like a cat flicking its tail.

She set her pale, soft hand on my head and rubbed gently, warmth spreading like a cotton cloud. “As a man, don’t fuss too much, or you’ll look petty. Also, Amemiya-kun is so cute… born cute, like a little dumpling!”

“Ha—have it your way. What are we competing in?” My sigh drifted like morning mist.

“Mm, let Ruyu think…” Her right hand kneaded my cheek, while her left finger pressed to her lips like a petal, thoughts circling like swallows.

After a moment, time fluttered past like a moth’s wing.

“Got it!” Her eyes sparkled like stars over a lake. “Rather than compete, let’s play!”

“Play?” The word hung between us like a paper kite.

“That’s right! Amemiya, play a game with Ruyu. If you win, Ruyu sends you straight to the fourth floor; if you lose, you stay by Ruyu’s side for life.” Her terms glittered like coins, while the bind lay like a red thread.

“A game? Fine. What game?” Hope flickered like a candle in wind.

It felt odd, but a game beats a fight—fighting burns strength like dry wood. After last night, my odds look slim, like a sparrow against a hawk.

“Hide-and-seek! The whole Enchanted Forest is our stage!” Her smile blossomed like a lotus. “If you find Ruyu within a day, Ruyu loses. For fairness, Ruyu will stay put once she hides—no running around.”

“…” Silence weighed like fog.

I take it back—better a straight fight. Finding Ruyu in the entire Enchanted Forest? That’s as hard as walking out of the forest itself. Even if she promises not to move, the mountain stays a mountain.

“No backing out now. You already agreed.” Her tone pressed like a firm palm, and I wilted like grass under rain.

At this point, more words are useless. I’ll face reality like a traveler meeting dawn. I agreed, and this is my second chance—I won’t gripe.

“From your face, you’ve figured it out, right?” Her gaze skimmed me like a dragonfly over water.

“Yeah. It’s not like I can refuse.” Resignation settled like dusk in my chest.

“Hmph~” Her puff rose like warm steam.

Satisfied, Ruyu moved behind me and untied the ropes. They fell away like shed snakeskin.

“Phew, I can move. Being tied up feels awful,” I muttered, throat dry as sand.

I tried to stand, but weakness washed in like a wave and dizziness spun like a whirlpool. I dropped back down like a leaf.

“Oh? Starved silly? How pitiful~” Her pity fell like soft spring rain.

No act—Ruyu truly felt for me. But this tangled emotion curled like knotted threads. What is this?

“Ugh…” The sound slipped like wind through reeds.

“Don’t make that face. Ruyu will get you food—hold on!” Her promise twinkled like lantern light.

The moment the words fell, she dashed for the door, a white rabbit streaking into brush, and vanished from sight.

“Hide-and-seek, huh?” The thought drifted like a leaf on a stream.

I turned to the window; the view spread like an ink-wash painting, and my mind went blank as snow. I haven’t played that in ages—seven, eight years? I used to play with Littlesky and Serenemoon, names soft as moonlight and wind. The memories stirred like old paper fans.

I sank into childhood’s sweet hours, warm as tea. I’ve been away from the Central Continent over a year; homesickness rose like a tide.

Ten minutes flew by like swallows, and Ruyu came in carrying a big bowl of ramen. Steam curled up like white dragons; the scent made my mouth water.

Gurgle, gurgle… My stomach drummed like a hollow gourd, and heat rushed to my cheeks like ripe peaches.

“Hehe, Amemiya, you look starving.” Her laugh tinkled like chimes in a breeze.

She saw my embarrassment and couldn’t help but laugh, then sat before me and handed me the bowl, steam rising like a small spring.

“Uh, thanks… ugh!” The words stuck like rice on my tongue.

I was so drained my arms felt like wet cloth; I couldn’t even lift the spoon.

“Oh my? Amemiya… Hehe, Ruyu will feed you!” Her offer glowed like a tiny ember.

She scooped broth, held it to her lips, blew; steam curled like mist over pines, then—

“Amemiya, ah—” Her voice was warm as honey.

“Ugh, so embarrassing!” Shame fluttered like a flock of sparrows.

“Your body comes first. Toss that pointless shame.” Her words were firm as a bamboo rod.

“Ugh… ah, ah.” Acceptance loosened like untying knots.

Delicious! Rich aroma and clean taste mingled like spring water and fire—this broth was so good!

“Yeah? I’m glad. Ruyu made it herself. Next, noodles.” Pride bloomed in her eyes like a lily.

She lifted noodles with chopsticks, blew; strands glistened like silver rain, then—

“Amemiya, ah—” Her call drifted like a soft flute.

“Mm, ah.” Warmth spread through me like tea steeping.

The noodles were delicious too—soft yet springy, like silk strings; they snapped and flooded my mouth with savory river water. Ruyu’s craft was great.

“Amemiya, ah—” Her voice flowed like moonlight on water.

“Mm-hm, ah.” Contentment settled like dusk under lanterns.

…