Passersby couldn’t help but cast curious glances at the unusual group. Leading the way was a handsome, clean-faced youth. Beside him stood a girl wearing a mythical bird mask, a lollipop dangling from her lips, arms overflowing with plushies. Behind them trailed two more hooded girls, each clutching armfuls of stuffed toys, faces hidden in shadow.

The sight naturally drew attention—but interest spiked the moment people noticed the girl in a white yukata beside the youth. Fair ankles, smooth youthful skin, the subtly snug yukata tracing gentle curves, long hair dancing in the breeze… She was undeniably captivating.

Humming a soft tune under the crowd’s gaze, the girl seemed in high spirits. Morris, however, was lost in thought, absently tweaking the ear of the Amilu plushie in his hand while wondering if he’d miscalculated.

“Let’s be real,” Morris mused, stroking his chin toward Yieta. “A plushie’s two silvers, pricier ones three—and that’s not even factory cost. I dropped thirty-one silvers total. Did we really clear his entire shelf? Did we even break even?”

“You actually care about tiny details?” Yieta cradled her plushies, glancing sideways with a teasing smile. “I thought *my* Pope was the type to spend without blinking—especially for a pretty girl.”

“*Your*?” Lenna’s crimson eyes, shadowed by her hood, instantly radiated a faint, chilling killing intent.

Morris spun around, palms pressing gently on Lenna’s shoulders. “This is Yieta—my childhood friend I mentioned! She’s always said stuff like ‘my little brother’ or ‘my Morris.’ Don’t overthink it!”

Yieta laughed, covering her mouth. “Rare to see *my* Morris this flustered. So refreshing.”

“How is that refreshing?!” Morris grumbled after calming Lenna.

“When we were kids, you were so gloomy,” Yieta chuckled softly, nostalgia glinting behind her smile. “I feared you’d tie a rope to the rafters if I wasn’t there. So I visited daily—brought food, played with you, even snuck into your bed at midnight to keep you company.”

“Wait—can you even say that?!” Morris stiffened. Arcanum shimmered faintly around Lenna; Sif’s face flushed crimson. Morris knew her silent verdict: *Shameless!*

“Ah, just nostalgia,” Yieta scratched her head sheepishly. “That snowy day I searched your whole estate, thinking we were playing hide-and-seek… collapsed from exhaustion near the corridor railing…”

Her gaze grew distant. “In the end, I sat alone in your room. Your father told me you were gone—taken to Macedon City by a high-ranking church official. I thought it was goodbye forever. Sad… but happy for you.”

Morris froze. He remembered praying in church years ago—a girl sat beside him, gently patting his shoulder. He opened his eyes. It was Yieta, now beautifully grown.

*“Hello, Morris. I joined the police force, transferred from Hammer County to Macedon City… and came to find you.”*

Her first words upon reunion.

Joy and shock beyond description.

“Ah… well…” Morris forced a small smile. “But we met again, right?”

He turned. Sif clutched her plushie tightly, eyes glistening, on the verge of tears.

*Her tear threshold is way too low!*

He stole a glance at Lenna.

The killing intent hadn’t faded—it thickened, like a beast refusing to retreat until its rival’s throat was torn out.

*As expected of my Holy Maiden-sama!*

“Why’d you come back suddenly?” Yieta pulled the lollipop free, a glistening thread of saliva trailing. “For the festival? Doesn’t sound like you.”

“Complicated,” Morris stepped back, pulling Lenna close. He felt her shoulders soften from tension. He gestured weakly toward Sif. “Sort of… for her. Can’t say more.”

“Secrets?” Yieta tilted her head; feathers on her mask swayed. “You don’t seem close.”

“Beyond secrets—top-level classified.” Morris was dead serious. His Saint identity, the Lawrence family’s Corridor Healing Spring—none were for outsiders. “We’re… friends. Sort of.”

“I won’t pry. You’ve got it handled.” Yieta looked healthier than in the capital; the pale exhaustion was gone. “What next? More strolling?”

“We were heading to eat…”

“Then come to my place!” Yieta glanced shyly at them, hand lightly covering her mouth. “Forgot? My family runs a restaurant.”

“Huh? Your house or your restaurant, miss?”

“Either’s fine.” Yieta smiled gently. “Mooching meals at my place again after all these years? But no entering my bedroom this time.”

Killing intent surged!

“N-no! Just the restaurant—and who’d *want* to go in?!” Morris shook his head fast.

Yieta gave a knowing nod. Back home, restored in spirit, her teasing had sharpened—just like before.

“I’ll reserve the main restaurant’s best private room,” she said to the trio.

Before Morris could refuse, she waved. A cloaked man emerged instantly. Morris shuddered at the man’s cold gaze—*She’s been guarded all along?*

Yieta issued crisp instructions. The man bowed deeply and vanished into the crowd.

“All set. Room’s ready when we arrive,” Yieta smiled. “I’ll go ahead. Don’t be late.”

“Alright,” Morris hesitated, then nodded. *She seems genuinely nostalgic… probably harmless.* “We’ll be there.”

Yieta drew a pocket watch from her yukata’s neckline. Morris quickly looked away, silently signaling innocence to Lenna.

“Not even eight.”

“‘Rua?’" Morris said with a straight face. “How weird.”

Yieta’s eyes crinkled. “See you by half-past eight at the main restaurant. Ask anyone if lost.”

“Don’t underestimate me—I memorized the route.”

“Good.” Yieta hugged her plushies. “See you soon.”

She walked off without looking back. Only then did Morris notice the street had subtly changed: the free-lollipop stall was packing up; carriage wheels now clattered where silence once reigned; more casually dressed townsfolk filled the lanes, warmth returning to the air.

“Still overprotective, Lord Croft,” Morris murmured. “But your reach only stretches this far in Hammer County.”

Sif sighed dizzily. “You’re amazing, Morris—both who you know and who you are.”

“Just lucky,” Morris chuckled. “And don’t spread that I’m a Saint.”

He raised a finger. “But the Pope can know.”

“Eh…”

“Morris.” Lenna’s voice was soft.

“Y-yes, my lady! Massage? Snack? Should I do a split right here?!”

“…No.” She turned away, lashes casting delicate shadows. “Nothing.”

*You’re not fooling me,* Morris thought. *I’m not that dense—you clearly have something to say!*

“Then…” Morris lowered his voice. “Tonight. Just us two. Too crowded here.”

“Agreed.” Lenna tightened her hold on the black goat plushie.

Sif’s gaze flickered between them. *Strange. If it’s love, he’s not that devoted. If just friends… would she cling like that? Would he allow it?*

A peculiar pair.

Watching Morris fuss over Lenna, Sif sighed again.

*After all… I’m the one who’s been receiving kindness all along.*