Yoderick... Situations like these.

Faced with the suave demeanor of the man before him, Zeming couldn't help but curl his lips in mild irritation. Truth be told, meeting like this felt far from pleasant.

"Eira and Zeming, it's been a while."

Not that long, really.

"Yeah, yeah, it's been a while. You've been occupied with work lately, right?" Zeming responded courteously, more out of necessity than genuine interest. There wasn’t much else to say to smooth over the awkward air.

Yoderick extended his hand, and Zeming immediately grasped it, shaking obediently.

"Didn't expect you'd be here too."

"Oh, no, no, no," Yoderick laughed sheepishly, "I got dragged here, to be honest."

"Yoderick, you... um... hello."

Eira fidgeted as she spoke, her nervous unease practically radiating from her.

"Hello, Eira. It's great that everyone could make it to this reunion today," Yoderick replied with practiced warmth.

"I still want to see the teacher... It’s been so long."

“The teacher? I was just speaking to them earlier—they’re over there, actually,” Yoderick pointed.

“Really? I was planning to go meet them anyway. So... wait, are you the one organizing this event?”

“Indeed, that would be me,” Yoderick adjusted his collar, apparently unsure of what to say.

“Thanks so much for putting this together.”

The delicate balance of bashfulness and underlying embarrassment in Eira’s demeanor couldn’t be overlooked. Zeming, standing by her side, intuitively grasped the reason for her feelings.

He was there today for one reason—helping Eira bear these moments of unease, even when silence descended like a heavy fog every time they exchanged glances.

This role, however, left Zeming feeling like the odd one out. It wasn’t the first time, and likely not the last.

As for the others? Their quiet scrutiny seemed nearly tangible, like the oppressive weight of judgmental night air.

Were they hoping for some resurrection of past flames?

“Hey, your wife looks like she’s really uncomfortable over there.”

Shalulu—cheeky as ever—leaned in, delivering the comment almost like an unwelcome jab.

Zeming gave a small chuckle. “Of course I know that.”

Just then, he felt two soft tugs on his pant leg. Glancing downward, he found Vivian—their bunny-like daughter—staring up at him silently.

With a tug forward, she led Zeming toward Eira.

"Mommy, what do we do next?"

Vivian’s sudden appearance shifted the focus of the gathered crowd entirely. The adorable little girl stood between Zeming and Eira, her striking resemblance to her mother—down to ninety-five percent—leaving jaws slack all around.

Seeing Vivian brought instant delight to Eira's face. She crouched down, gently smoothing out her daughter’s tousled hair, shamefully muttering, "Ah, sorry, Vivian. I forgot about you for a moment."

“Mmh... I’m hungry.”

“Oh, then let’s go… Sorry, I’ll be stepping away for now,” Eira nodded toward Yoderick, signaling to him.

“Ah, no problem at all. I get it. Your child is adorable,” Yoderick replied, his smile unfailingly gentle as he looked at Vivian.

“Vivian, say hello to Uncle Yoderick.”

“Uncle~”

“Ah, you’re such a good girl,” Yoderick chuckled softly, reaching a hand to pat Vivian on the head.

But Vivian tensed slightly, darting away with a sharp little “whoosh” to hide behind Zeming’s leg, peeking out cautiously.

Yoderick was left frozen, hand hung in midair, awkwardly aware of the spotlight now on him as silence stretched among the crowd.

Awkward. Definitely awkward.

“Haha, sorry about that. Our Vivian is still a bit shy. She’s hungry now, though, so I’ll take Eira for a little walk, okay?” Zeming offered, steering Eira away.

“Wait, we wanted to know how you and Eira fell in love!”

“Yeah, that’s something we all want to hear!”

“Come on, big guy, spill the beans at least!”

Had they truly elevated him to some mythical level of reverence? It dawned on Zeming that perhaps so—after all, he had successfully won the heart of their idolized goddess.

Looking around the room, Zeming spotted lingering gazes, including those of the trio he had nicknamed the "Old Monkeys," scholars of the art of theorizing romance rather than living it.

“Well, as for us...” Eira fumbled, her thoughts tangling as nervousness overtook her.

She struggled for words; after all, their first proper date hadn’t been all that long ago. They weren’t exactly brimming with moments to recount, leaving her trapped in silence and almost visibly short-circuiting.

Chuckling mildly, Zeming decided to step in.

“Apologies, everyone.”

With one arm, he scooped Vivian into his embrace. The other he looped around Eira's shoulder, drawing her tightly against him.

“Eira has been mine for a long time now, and you don’t need to know the exact reasons why. Men who care for the women they love should act fast, shouldn’t they? Right now, though, she’s busy tending to our child, so let’s not drag the little ones into adult discussions like this, hmm?”

“What? So you’re saying Eira belongs to you?! It’s like you’re claiming a trophy!”

“So domineering!”

“That... feels unfairly attractive, doesn't it?”

It seemed some of the women watching—perhaps the ones prone to romantic daydreams—had started to blush, their imaginations running wild. Clearly, this flavor of “alpha male” wasn’t entirely foreign in their repertoire of fantasies.

Yoderick’s attention was piqued, but Vivian was quick to intervene. Hugging Zeming tightly, she nestled against him, her little arms encircling his neck, gazing at the crowd affectionately.

“No, no, she’s not my possession,” Zeming clarified. “She’s simply mine—her every breath, every heartbeat belongs with me. When I fell in love, I needed nothing more than to hold her with all my heart.”

“Hey! You—”

Eira’s sharp elbow met Zeming’s stomach, her face ablaze with heat from his unabashed declarations. This was too much to bear.

And yet, Zeming only held her closer, leaning down to plant the faintest touch of lips against hers—assertive, unapologetic. In a fleeting union that left heads turned and imaginations spiraling, the kiss silenced any leftover doubts, eradicating resistance.

“That’s what love looks like.”

With Vivian cradled in his arms, Zeming strode away, disappearing from their bewildered gazes.

“That guy… no ordinary fool, huh?”

“No kidding. Meat-eater instincts all the way,” commented Leyn and Krulu, their tone flavored with awe.

---

Rooftop Skyline

“Die! What was *that* back there, huh?!”

With fury-filled precision, Eira’s flying kick sent Zeming sprawling against the rooftop’s edge. Now crouching in embarrassed rage, her flushed face betrayed the chaotic swirl of emotions racing through her.

“What did you expect? I made it look believable. Plus, you’re terrible at coming up with convincing lies—everyone would’ve seen right through you.”

“That doesn’t mean you had to go that far!”

“To be fair, that kiss? We didn’t really touch lips—it just looked like it,” Zeming offered sheepishly.

“You... you...!”

At this point, Eira had entirely abandoned her usual calm, reduced instead to angry mutters.

Humbled, Zeming dusted himself off and approached her, now squatting and glaring daggers at the floor.

“You’re not crying, are you?”

“Of course not!”

“Oh, good… I was afraid I’d upset you.”

Rolling her eyes at his attempts at sincerity, Eira managed a tentative glance his way.

“Besides, I hate seeing you look helpless or upset,” Zeming added softly.

“Who asked you to care about that?”

“True enough.”

Silently, Zeming removed his jacket, draping it gently over her shoulders as the wind whipped around them.

“It’s chilly up here, you’ll catch cold if you’re not careful.”

“Ugh, it smells like aged man.”

“Now *that’s* pushing it, lady.”

After a pause, Eira muttered quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“There’s still one thing... Back when you knew I liked him, why didn’t you just wait for me instead of agreeing to *this fake marriage*?"

"There were reasons... Maybe I don't even like him anymore.”

“Is that so?”

“Maybe you’ll hear about it sometime,” Eira replied vaguely, a thin veneer of composure creeping back into her expression—the first step toward unraveling long-hidden truths, perhaps.

Zeming smiled faintly to himself, shaking free of the thoughts weighing heavily in his mind as he turned to their waiting daughter.

“Ready to grab some snacks, Vivian? What’d you like to eat today?”

“Anything Daddy picks is perfect~!”

“Alright then, let’s roll!”

“Wait! Aren’t we bringing Mommy along?”

As Vivian tugged his hair, a questioning glance was exchanged between father and daughter when Eira stepped up beside them.

“I’ll join you both.”

“Eh? Weren’t you taking a moment to calm down?”

Eira clutched the jacket tighter around herself, walking slowly over to them.

“It’s freezing up here—I’ll just catch a cold if I stay.”

“Then mind giving back my—”

“Not happening.”

The familiar air of the “emotionless doll” resurfaced in her posture, unyielding.

“Didn’t you just say it smelled like an old man? Don’t like the scent, do you?”

“Well...” Eira’s cheeks colored faintly, her voice softening, “Yours... is tolerable.”

Smiling quietly, Zeming chose not to tease further. Together, the trio descended the stairs—a family close-knit in both warmth and camaraderie.