Lanterns and Laughter: Part I

The tavern was tucked beneath a sloping arch of old stone, its wooden sign faded from sun and steam. Inside, the walls glowed golden from lanterns shaped like floating spirits, flickering slightly when laughter got too loud. Setsuna was right — nobody really cared about his eyes as long as he was wearing the Emblem of the Royal Guard.

The scent of grilled meat and honeybread clung to the air.

Kazuo sat at a corner table with Sora and Tetsu, arms crossed, trying not to smile.

He failed.

"This is good," he muttered, chewing slower than necessary.

"You mean the food?" Sora asked, licking sauce from her fingers.

"Obviously."

"You haven't even touched the spiced cider."

"I don't drink," Kazuo said.

Sora blinked. "Oh. You're one of those."

Tetsu, surprisingly, already had a glass in hand. His coat was off, his glasses pushed to his forehead. He looked… normal.

"Surprising," Kazuo said. "I thought you'd be hiding from contact or microbes."

"I'm not that petty," Tetsu replied calmly.

Sora leaned back in her seat, tail flicking lazily behind her. "Well, if the introvert's drinking, then you have no excuse."

"I'm not getting tipsy just to prove a point," Kazuo said with a smirk, licking gravy off his thumb. "I like keeping my head clear. But I'll eat everything on this table."

He wasn't lying.

It had been days since a real meal. Maybe longer. Between training, travel, capture, and royal politics, he hadn't even realized how hungry he was. It tasted like peace.

"Setsuna hasn't told us anything," Sora said suddenly, breaking the relaxed rhythm. "About you. First we hear rumors about someone with mismatched eyes, then Setsuna shows up saying we've got a new member — and the next thing we know, everything explodes. Rare water magic, the Hollow Veins, the tournament… even Lady Elyria knows your name. We were left confused and kinda overwhelmed."

"I get it," she added. "You don't have to explain. But I really wanna know what exactly happened that you're going to participate in the tournament."

Kazuo hesitated, the warmth in his stomach suddenly clashing with the tension in his shoulders.

He stayed quiet. For a moment, it looked like he wouldn't answer.

But then he leaned back, eyes on the lanterns above, their glow dancing faintly in his green eye.

"…Alright," he said softly. "I'll tell you."

The details blurred in the noise of the tavern — fleeing into the Hollow Veins, the fights he survived, and how Setsuna eventually pulled him out. But the part with King Cedric — the real bargain binding him to the tournament — stayed locked inside.

When the silence returned, it was heavier, more thoughtful.

Sora was still. Even her tail had gone still.

Tetsu had set his drink down.

"…That's why?" Sora said, voice low.

Kazuo nodded.

"No wonder Setsuna didn't say anything," Tetsu murmured, almost to himself.

Sora studied him again. The usual playfulness was gone. Something gentler lingered in her eyes."…Must've taken a big toll on you."

Kazuo didn't answer. He didn't need to.

The air between them said enough.

Tetsu spoke next, tilting his head slightly. "I wonder what you're going to wish for."

Kazuo blinked. "Wish?"

Tetsu looked genuinely puzzled. "You don't know?"

Sora turned to him slowly, ears flicking once. "…Setsuna really didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

She raised a brow. "Typical. So. The Tournament of Nobles — big shiny stage, nobles watching, all that — ends with a prize."

"What kind of prize?" Kazuo asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

"A wish," Sora said, stretching her arms behind her head. "Granted by the King himself. Anything within Cedric's power to grant."

Kazuo stared at her. "…Anything?"

"Anything," she answered.

"Why wouldn't Setsuna tell me that?"

"Maybe he thought you'd fight better without knowing," Tetsu offered, sipping from his glass. "Or maybe he knew it'd mess with your head."

Kazuo frowned.

A wish. From King Cedric.

He could ask for answers. For Gramps's safety. For freedom. For a place to disappear.

But the idea felt strange in his chest — not comforting, not promising. Just… heavy. As if every path came with strings.

Sora's gaze eased. "Whatever you choose… just make sure it's what you want. Not what someone else pushed on you."

Still no words from him. Just a slow breath as something shifted inside.

And then —

He heard laughter.

At first, it came from across the tavern — raw and carefree, tumbling out between gulps of ale and half-sung songs. A lute strummed somewhere near the bar. Boots thudded on old wood. Someone clapped in rhythm. The scent of grilled meat, sweat, and spiced cider hung in the air like warmth.

People were living.

Kazuo's eyes wandered — for real this time.

Sora had propped her feet on the bench beside him, curled up like a smug housecat, gnawing on meat skewers and humming quietly with the music. Tetsu was on his second drink now, drawing patterns on a napkin that probably correlated alcohol to reaction time, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Kazuo leaned back into his seat, unsure — but something inside him loosened.

His food was gone. He hadn't even remembered finishing it.

For a long moment, he just sat in the golden glow of the hanging lanterns. Watching. Breathing.

And something stirred inside him.

Like the scent of wood smoke in winter. Like old books in Gramps' study. Like Rei shouting at him for eating all the dried meat in their market stall.

It felt like—

Home.

His throat tightened.

And when Sora turned to say something else, she froze. "…Kazuo."

He looked up, blinking. "Huh?"

Sora tilted her head slightly. Her ears were still. "Are you… crying?"

Kazuo touched his cheek. His fingertips came back wet. "What the—? Tears? I didn't even notice…"

Sora didn't joke. Not this time. Her gaze softened — she realized he carried more than he let on.

Kazuo looked down, trying to steady his breath. The moment hung there, raw and unguarded.

Then, from beside him, Tetsu spoke, voice calm as ever. "We're a team now, you know."

Kazuo blinked.

Tetsu sipped his drink. "If anything happens… you can count on us."

Silence followed — but this one was warm.

Kazuo let it settle. Then he smiled. Genuinely. Eyes closed, head tilted just slightly as he exhaled through his nose. "…Thanks, guys."

When he opened his eyes again, Sora was staring at him — a little too long. And just for a second, her ears twitched upward… and her cheeks flushed.

She looked away with a quiet "tch," suddenly very interested in her drink.

Kazuo didn't say anything, but it felt… right.

Until a shadow fell across the table.

Heavy boots stopped just short of their bench.

Kazuo looked up.

A massive figure stood there — broad-shouldered, scarred, arms folded like a wall of muscle barely held together by a stained guard vest. Very short blonde hair, nearly bald. One eye was scarred, the other sharp with the kind of look that didn't need a reason to start a fight.