A lost queen

The wind carried the scent of fresh flowers, and the golden sun bathed the world in warmth.
Ren sat on the hill, staring at the sky, lost in thought.
Then, a voice called out.
"Ren!"
He barely had time to turn before someone tackled him from behind, sending him rolling down the hill.
By the time they stopped, Yuna was laughing, lying beside him on the soft grass.
Ren groaned, rubbing his head. "You do this every time."
Yuna grinned, her red eyes sparkling. "Because it's funny every time."
She stretched her arms above her, gazing at the sky. "Don't you think the clouds look soft?"
Ren sighed. "You're saying nonsense again."
Yuna pouted. "You never imagine things, do you?"
"I imagine a world where you stop throwing yourself at me," he muttered.
She giggled. "But where's the fun in that?"
And Ren found himself smiling.
Because, in the end, he wouldn't trade these moments for anything.

"Ren," Yuna said one day, walking beside him through the marketplace.
"What?"
"If you were a king, what would your kingdom be like?"
Ren raised an eyebrow. "Where is this coming from?"
She shrugged. "I'm just curious."
He thought about it for a moment before answering. "A kingdom where I don't have to listen to your nonsense every day."
Yuna gasped dramatically. "How cruel!"
Ren smirked. "You asked."
"Then I won’t be in your kingdom?" she teased.
Ren scoffed. "Like you would leave even if I told you to."
She laughed. "You're right! If you're a king, then I'll be your queen."
Ren stopped walking.
Yuna looked at him, tilting her head. "What?"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You just say whatever comes to your mind, don't you?"
She beamed. "Of course!"
And Ren—Ren didn’t argue.
Because deep down, he liked the sound of it.

They spent entire afternoons doing nothing and everything.
Yuna would steal Ren’s food and claim it was a tax for her loyalty.
Ren would pretend not to care but always brought extra food just in case.
Yuna would drag him into fields of flowers, talking about stories she made up on the spot.
Ren would scoff at her ridiculous tales but secretly enjoyed listening.
Yuna would always, always find ways to make him laugh.
And Ren, who never smiled for anyone else, always smiled for her.
Time was meaningless.
There was no past.
No future.
Only the moments they shared.
Only the world they built together.
A world where Ren was king.
And Yuna—was his queen.
And in that world—nothing else mattered.
The sun hung low in the sky, painting everything in shades of orange and gold. Yuna and Ren sat by the riverbank, the gentle sound of flowing water filling the air.
Yuna picked up a smooth rock and tossed it across the surface. It skipped twice before sinking.
"Did you see that?" she grinned. "That was skill."
Ren, unimpressed, flicked a pebble with minimal effort. It skipped five times.
Yuna pouted. "You always have to win, huh?"
Ren smirked. "It's not my fault you're terrible at it."
She shoved him lightly, but then her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Hey, Ren. You never show me your ability, you know?"
Ren stiffened. "...Why would I?"
Yuna leaned closer, her red eyes gleaming. "Because I want to see it!"
Ren sighed.
"This is stupid."
But, as always, he couldn't say no to her.

Ren closed his eyes.
The air around them shifted.
A murder of crows suddenly landed near them, their black feathers gleaming in the dying sunlight.
Tiny insects crawled toward Ren's feet, and small creatures—rabbits, squirrels, even a stray cat—emerged from the bushes, their eyes glowing with an eerie obedience.
Yuna’s breath hitched. "They… listen to you?"
Ren didn't answer. He simply raised his hand.
And as if following a silent command, the animals moved in sync—a perfect circle forming around him.
Yuna was mesmerized. "That's so cool."
Ren scoffed. "They're weak creatures. It’s useless."
But Yuna shook her head. "No, it's not. They're living beings, Ren. Just because they're small doesn’t mean they’re weak."
Ren didn’t respond.
He knew his title. Cowardly King. The king of the weak. The unnoticed.
But the way Yuna looked at him—like he was something more—made his heart feel strange.
"You should be proud," Yuna continued. "Because even the weak have a place with you."
Ren stared at her, unable to look away.
Then, quietly, he whispered, "You're an idiot."
But this time, he wasn't smirking.

Yuna sat cross-legged on the grass, watching the crows hop around. "So, if you rule the weak… does that make this your kingdom?"
Ren raised an eyebrow. "A kingdom of animals? Sounds ridiculous."
Yuna grinned. "But it fits you."
Ren scoffed.
But then, a thought entered his mind.
A kingdom of the forgotten.
A place for those who had nowhere else to go.
He glanced at Yuna—who was still smiling like she belonged right here, next to him.
"Even the weak have a place with you."
Maybe… maybe that wasn’t so bad.
But Ren didn't say anything.
Instead, he flicked another pebble across the river.
And Yuna, determined to win at least once, kept trying to beat him.