Stay

Evren

The group’s laughter reaches me first. Perched on Tyur’ma’s roof, my legs dangling over the edge, I spot them emerging from the treeline. Jesse looks troubled. Did something happen?

Fianna waves, and I call back.

“How’d it go?”

Jira answers before anyone else.
“He shredded them!”

Relief slips from my chest. So Jesse managed to convince them that the machine gun is more or less normal. But if that’s true, why does he look so uncertain, like he’s bracing for the future to collapse?

They climb up onto the tank, but Jesse avoids my eyes as he drops into his hatch. Strange. I swing myself around toward mine, legs slipping down inside. Before I can disappear fully, Asa steps forward and sits in front of my hatch, smiling gently. I pull myself back out, masking my presence.

“Hey, Evren. Are you injured?”

I nod slowly. Jesse must’ve told them. Asa’s expression softens.
“I’m a healer. Do you mind if I take a look?”

A healer. That’s… incredible. I nod quickly and swing my legs back onto the roof, stretching out the injured one. I point toward my ankle.
“There’s a sprain under there.”

He kneels and gently pulls off my boot, studying the elastic wrap.
“What’s this? Some kind of bandage?”

I nod.
“It’s stretchy. Compresses my foot. Apparently it helps it heal faster.”

“Ah, I see. I’ll try to heal it now.”

He raises his staff until the tip hovers above my ankle. A green glow spills out, warmth flooding through me. I resist the urge to flinch as the magic prods deeper, trying to understand what I am. I can’t let it reach too far - can’t let it find the truth buried beneath my skin. A mage is dangerous to me. Their magic peels away disguises, sees through layers others can’t. If Asa discovers the creation magic within me, or my soul energy, it’s over. I would have no choice. I would have to silence him. To protect not just myself, but Jesse too.

My mind drifts to when Jesse and I first met. Why did I show him my abilities so openly? Was it shock? Or… maybe I already knew that trust was the only way we could travel together. Even then, I only gave him half-truths. Guilt presses hard against my ribs. When we’re next alone, far from everyone else, I’ll try to tell him everything.

The pain in my ankle ebbs, then disappears completely. The swelling drops away in a blink. Asa lowers his staff, breathing hard, before flashing me a smile.
“Done. You should be able to move now.”

I flex my ankle. It bends smoothly, no pain. A grin bursts across my face. I stand, wobbling a little, then take a few steps across the roof. Jesse peers from his hatch, offering a weak smile as my joy radiates back at him. I turn to Asa.
“Thank you. Really. Thank you so much.”

He smiles.
“No problem.”

Laughter escapes me, bright and unrestrained. I’m free. Not trapped in Tyur’ma anymore.

And then it hits me - I’m not tethered to Tyur’ma anymore. That’s what’s eating Jesse. Now that I’m healed, I could go wherever I want. I don’t have to stay with him.

But the thought tears at me. The idea of leaving Jesse and Tyur’ma hurts more than I want to admit. Where would I even go? Run again, searching endlessly for a hiding place that doesn’t exist? No. My future lies with Jesse. I know that. But I can’t tell him here, not with all these eyes on us. That’s too personal.

So instead, I drop back into my hatch, swinging lightly from the rim - delighting in not having to ease myself down anymore. Tyur’ma is already rumbling, her engine lashing to life as I settle into my seat. With a growl and a metallic clatter, she spins around, surging across the flat ground toward the city.

I glance at Jesse, but he doesn’t meet my eye. My gaze falls to my lap. I wish I could tell him now. I wish I could tell him everything while we sit barely a meter apart, divided only by the air between us. The wind streams through my hair, tugging at the ribbons, making them flutter.

The adventurers seem cheerful enough, adjusting with remarkable ease. I’m wary of Asa - that’s only natural. The others seem harmless. Even Bree, though I can sense something dark buried in her past, something she’ll never share, not even with those closest to her. Jari’s a child at heart, but I suspect moments of startling maturity lie hidden beneath. And Fianna… she’s both kind and commanding, the glue that holds the group together. People orbit her effortlessly. I envy that, but I don’t want it. I don’t want to be the one who has to lead when everything falls apart.

I smile faintly at my own contradictions as Tyur’ma kicks up a dust cloud, roaring like a wild beast, the city swelling on the horizon.

Soon, we’re pulling up outside the guild again. Tyur’ma shudders to a halt, her engine clattering down into silence. The familiar city air rushes in when I open the hatch - warm, dusty, tinged with smoke and bread. The street noise falters as people stop what they’re doing to gawk at the iron monster squatting outside the guild. Whispers ripple across the square.

I stretch as I climb out, rolling my shoulders. It hasn’t been long since I was confined to Tyur’ma’s seat, but already standing on steady ground feels strange - unnatural, almost alien. A light breeze curls around my legs and brushes my cheeks, and I close my eyes briefly against the sun’s heat.

The adventurers jump down one after the other. I wait until Jesse dismounts before following. He lands lightly, but I can see the weight dragging behind his eyes. I keep close, just behind his shoulder - near enough that he’ll feel my presence, even if he doesn’t want words or touch. My closeness is a message. I’m not leaving you.

But it doesn’t seem to reach him. He offers me a fleeting smile, faint as a ghost, then looks away.

We enter the guild together, trailing just behind the adventurers. The atmosphere inside is as lively as ever - shouts, laughter, mugs clattering against tables. A few heads turn at us, eyebrows raised, but I ignore them. The blonde receptionist behind the desk brightens when she sees us.

“Ah, Jesse! How’d it go?”

Before he can answer, Fianna cuts in, all smiles.
“No problems. But I think F-rank is far too low for him.”

The receptionist tilts her head, amused.
“Oh? What do you recommend, then?”

Fianna hesitates, considering. Before she can answer, a whisper slips through the din of the hall, low but clear enough to cut through.

“C minimum. B recommended.”

I blink and turn. Bree.

Her party looks just as startled as the rest of us. Even the receptionist falters, momentarily thrown off, before covering with a polite laugh.
“Well, B it is then! I’ll need to get clearance, but if I add Bree’s recommendation, there shouldn’t be any issues. One moment.”

She disappears into the back. The rest of us remain staring at Bree, who doesn’t flinch. Her eyes glimmer faintly beneath her hood, unreadable. She doesn’t smile.

Fianna recovers first, laughing as she elbows Jesse.
“Jesse, do you realise what just happened? For Bree to say something like that… she must have seen something in you. I’d be honored, if I were you.”

Jesse meets Bree’s gaze and gives her a grateful smile.
“Thanks, Bree.”

She inclines her head, but her face doesn’t change. There’s no warmth in it. Just… quiet. Poor girl. What exactly has she seen?

The receptionist returns a moment later, uniform neat and crisp, the deep green and white of it somehow making her look smaller than she is. She beams as she holds up a bronze-colored card.
“Here you go. Welcome to the guild of Ragin City!”

Jesse accepts it with both hands, his smile soft and genuine.
“Thank you.”

He tucks the card into his pocket as she continues brightly,
“You can now accept requests directly from the boards. If you ever need help navigating the system, come find me!”

She waves him off before tending to another group.

Jesse turns back to the others, almost shyly.
“Thank you, everyone.”

Fianna waves dismissively, grinning.
“You didn’t even need us.”

He only shrugs, and she chuckles.
“Well, we’ve got to go. Another quest to finish before sundown. See you around!”

The party gathers themselves, heading for the door. Bree glances back once before vanishing with them into the crowd outside.

The guild feels quieter without them. Jesse looks at me, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. I smile back.
“So, what now?”

He shrugs, but I see the shadow behind it, the uncertainty dragging at his shoulders.
“I don’t know. I didn’t really think this far ahead.”

The unspoken hangs between us, heavy and silent. I tilt my head.
“Then how about we find somewhere to stay tonight?”

His eyes soften, and he nods.
“Alright. Do you know anywhere?”

I shake my head.
“No. I was always on the run - I hid when I slept.”

“Okay. Let’s go hunting, then.”

I smile and nod, following him back out into the daylight.

Tyur’ma waits faithfully where we left her, a crowd gathered at a safe distance, pointing and murmuring. Jesse grimaces.
“How about we walk instead?”

I glance at him, uncertain.
“Will Tyur’ma be alright?”

“She can’t be harmed,” he answers simply. “We’ll pick her up once we’ve found a place.”

I nod, and together we turn away, leaving the iron beast behind as we head up the main street.

His hand swings lightly by his side as we scan for a suitable inn. My heart aches to reach for it, but I force the urge down. Not yet. The world bustles around us, just two wanderers drifting through the street. I want to believe we’re nothing special - but Jesse’s strange clothes keep drawing eyes. He sighs.

“I need to get some new clothes at some point.”

I murmur agreement. My eyes catch on a sign swinging gently above a doorway, a squat wooden board painted with the carving of a pig sporting angelic wings. The simplicity makes me smile, and I try to guess the name before we even step inside. I point.

“How about this place?”

Jesse follows my finger and nods.
“Alright.”

The front door yields easily beneath his hand, and a waft of warm air and cooked food envelopes us. My stomach twists with sudden hunger - when did I last eat? The light outside is fading. Late afternoon, maybe.

The inn’s common room is empty but well-kept. Round tables dot the center, with long benches built into the walls. Murals brighten the plaster, simple pastoral scenes, while polished beams make the space glow warmly. To the right, a staircase rises; opposite, a counter waits unmanned. The door swings shut behind us with a gentle chime of a mounted bell, and a small head peeks out from a back door. A child - no more than eight or nine, eyes wide and brown to match her hair. She vanishes, and a moment later a pretty woman replaces her.

Her resemblance to the girl is immediate: the same shade of hair, though hers is drawn back in a tidy bun, and eyes the color of hazel glass. She greets us with a smile that feels like an open hearth.

“Oh! Welcome to the Flying Pig! What can I get for you?”

I grin to myself - I guessed the name exactly. Jesse returns her smile with one of his own.
“Hello. We’re looking for a place to stay. Do you have any rooms?”

“Of course! It's ten silver per night. Would that suit you?”

I do the math quickly. The villagers from Kaunis gave us four gold coins - enough for forty nights. More than enough. Jesse nods.
“That’s fine, thank you.”

The woman turns and whispers to the child, who edges forward timidly. Then she faces us again.
“My name’s Chelo. This is Hitomi, my daughter. She’ll take you to your room.”

Jesse inclines his head politely. “Thank you.”

Hitomi gestures for us to follow, then trots ahead up the stairs. We trail after her down a corridor lined with doors. She stops at one, pushes it open, and points inside before dashing off again without a word.

I peek in first. It’s simple, but warmer than I expected. Two wardrobes stand against the wall, and in the middle sit two beds with a wide table between them. A single window frames the view of the main street below, where the late sun gilds the rooftops.

Jesse sighs.
“I knew something was off. She probably couldn’t tell if we were a couple or not, so she gave us one shared room with two beds. I should’ve said we wanted separate rooms. Sorry. I’ll go sort it.”

He starts to turn, but I slip past him and twirl into the room, skirt catching the air. I grin.
“I don’t mind at all. It means we can talk.”

He hesitates, then his smile softens.
“Alright. I’ll go get Tyur’ma. Coming?”

I nod, still smiling, and follow him back out into the hall.

Soon we’re back in the room again. Outside, Tyur’ma is parked in the street, proudly on display. From the window I can see her steel frame catching the glow of the setting sun, drawing curious stares from passersby.

I sit on the edge of my bed while Jesse settles cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the mattress. Beside him rests a green box filled with linked machine gun ammunition. Some of the belts are half-empty, and he refills them from a neat pile of loose bullets - ones I made for him. His hands move with steady precision, guiding each round into its place. The soft clink of brass and the rasp of metal on metal fill the room. It’s slow, methodical work, but strangely soothing to watch.

A bullet slips from his fingers, clattering across the floorboards. He exhales in mild frustration, and I smile.

“You know, I can just make the bullets inside the chainlink. You don’t have to refill it by hand.”

He nods, not looking up.
“I know. But this… it calms me. I don’t mind the time it takes.”

I soften my voice.
“So… what are you going to do now?”

His sigh is heavier this time.
“I could ask you the same thing.”

It isn’t unkind, but there’s a quiet urgency beneath his words - as if he’s been waiting to ask, waiting to know if I’ll stay. My chest tightens. Do I really want to say this aloud? My heart answers before my mind can argue.

“If it’s okay with you,” I say gently, “I want to keep traveling with you.”

Jesse freezes. His head jerks around, eyes wide, caught between disbelief and something softer.
“Really?”

I smile, feeling my face warm.
“Of course. Where else am I meant to go?”

I hesitate, then add, more quietly,
“Besides… I like being with you. With you and Tyur’ma. Even if I did have somewhere else to go, I’d still want to stay.”

Color creeps into his cheeks. He turns away as though to hide it, but I can sense his relief, as palpable as the sunlight fading through the window.

“W-well… that’s fine with me,” he stammers. Then he faces me again, this time with a bright, unguarded smile.
“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, grinning back.

The tension that had been hovering between us melts away, leaving only a quiet ease. Jesse returns to his work, but now the silence feels lighter - like the space between us is no longer waiting for an answer.

My stomach betrays me with a loud grumble. Heat floods my face as I cross my arms over it. Jesse laughs, setting aside the half-filled belt and standing up.

“Alright,” he says warmly, extending his hand, “let’s get something to eat.”

His grip is strong but gentle as he pulls me to my feet. Together we step out of the room, our thoughts caught between the promise of food, the glow of the future, and the comfort of each other.

Chelo calls out to us as we come downstairs.
“Ah, hungry, are we? Pick a table, I’ll be right with you.”

I glance at Jesse. He just shrugs, so we take a small, round two-seater near the window. A moment later Hitomi comes scampering out of the kitchen, placing two menus on the table before skipping away again. Jesse shakes his head with a smile as he picks his up.

I flip through mine, wary of the prices but also aware of something else - this feels a lot like a date. The thought bubbles up inside me, warm and persistent, until I find myself carefully choosing a dish I think Jesse would like.

When I peek up, his menu is already lowered. He’s staring straight at me. My cheeks heat immediately. He bursts out laughing.
“Really? That’s all it takes?”

I scowl and kick him under the table.
“Idiot!”

He yelps in mock pain.
“Ow! Stop, that hurts!”

I pull my legs back with a huff, though the corner of my mouth betrays me with a twitch. He grins, boyish and infuriating.
“Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”

I sigh inwardly. It’s plain now. I’m in love with him. I want to do stupid little things like this forever - sit across a table, trade teases, watch him grin. But there’s still so much unspoken. He has his secrets. I have mine.

I meet his blue-green eyes, sharp and yet strangely gentle, trying to decipher what lies behind them. He meets my gaze head-on, daring me not to look away. Without meaning to, we’ve started a staring contest.

Thankfully Chelo emerges from the kitchen before either of us breaks.
“Can I take your order now?”

Jesse blinks, then nods. He orders, then I do. Chelo jots it down with a smile.
“I’ll be back shortly.”

Once she’s gone, Jesse leans forward, a sly smile tugging at his lips.
“What would you say if I told you you have beautiful eyes?”

Heat rushes to my face so fast I nearly choke on air. He grins wider, clearly pleased with himself, and continues before I can recover.
“No, really. That shade of purple… I’ve never seen anything like it. Where did it come from?”

I manage to gather enough composure to murmur,
“That’s… a secret. For now.”

To my relief, he nods and doesn’t press. But I’m still reeling, and I need some way to strike back. My gaze lingers on his fringe, hanging low over his forehead. The impulse sparks before I can resist.

I stand, leaning across the table. His eyes widen slightly as my fingers brush his hair aside. My heart skips when I see him properly - yes, I was right. He looks good with his hair swept back. Too good.

I linger only a second before retreating to my seat. He immediately ruffles his hair back into place, cheeks tinged red.
“What was that about?”

I smile innocently.
“Oh, I thought you might look more handsome with your hair to the side. But you looked cute instead, so… maybe I was wrong.”

He blinks, the color in his face deepening.
“Is… is that a bad thing?”

I grin and shake my head.
“No. I like it.”

He groans, burying his face in his hands.
“I suppose I deserved that.”

Chelo arrives then, saving him further torment. She sets two steaming plates down with a flourish. When Jesse reaches for his coin pouch, she waves him off.
“No charge tonight. I can tell - you two will be regulars before long.”

She winks knowingly before heading back. Jesse looks at me, helpless. I just shrug, and he laughs. We dig in, sharing a quiet, comfortable silence as the sun sinks behind the rooftops, painting the windows in long amber shadows.

When we finish, Chelo collects the plates. Jesse tilts his head, curious.
“Hey, Chelo, where is everyone? This is such a nice place.”

She beams.
“Thank you. Normally it’s packed, but you came too early. Most adventurers don’t return until much later.”

We stare in disbelief.
“Too early?”

She nods.
“Mm-hm. Don’t worry, though. If they ever get too noisy, I make sure they regret it. Strict rules here. No exceptions.”

Somehow, I don’t doubt her. I glance at Jesse. He raises an eyebrow, I stifle a laugh, and together we head back upstairs to our room.

The sky has long since darkened, but the streets outside remain alive. Not bustling like in the day, but humming with a steady rhythm - footsteps, low voices, the occasional laugh. Not too noisy, thankfully. And none of them come too close to the Flying Pig, thanks to Tyur’ma’s looming presence out front. Adventurers stumble past, too tired or drunk to notice much of anything. It’s quieter than I expected. Chelo wasn’t lying when she said she kept this place under her thumb.

Inside, the single lamp on the bedside table throws out a warm, steady glow. Jesse sits cross-legged on the floor, his back propped against his bed, methodically inspecting each round of ammunition. He runs his thumb along every cartridge, turning them in the light, checking for imperfections before setting them back into the box.

When I asked him why, he only smiled faintly and said,
“It’s unnecessary, but I enjoy it. Besides, you never know.”

It’s not about the bullets, I realise. It’s about the ritual. A way to soothe his mind, to keep his hands busy. I wish I had something like that. Instead, I just lie here under the covers, watching him. The rhythm of his work - clink, pause, clink - is almost like a lullaby. My eyelids grow heavier with each passing minute until a wide yawn escapes me.

He glances up, amused.
“Sorry. I’ll finish up here. Then we can turn the light out.”

I mumble something incoherent even to myself as he snaps the lid of the box shut with a muted click. Sliding it aside, he rises and twists the lamp’s dial. The flame gutters out with a soft hiss, and the room falls into shadow. I hear the creak of his mattress as he rolls into bed.

I lie on my back, staring into the dark. My pulse is hammering. I was supposed to tell him everything. Now, with silence pressing in, I know I won’t sleep until I do.

“Jesse?” My voice is barely above a whisper.

A quiet hum answers me.
“Mmm?”

I take a breath, steadying myself.
“Can I tell you a secret?”

He shifts, sheets rustling.
“What is it?”

My nerves scream at me to stop, but I force the words out anyway.
“My… my name isn’t actually Evren.”

His bed creaks as he sits upright. I push myself up too, meeting his wide eyes across the darkened gap.

“What? What do you mean?”

I rub my face with trembling hands.
“My name isn’t Evren. That’s just a disguise. My real name is Cayti.”

He’s silent for a moment, his voice unreadable when it finally comes.
“Cayti?”

I nod.
“Mhm. But don’t call me that in public. Only in private. Okay?”

He swallows, then dips his head.
“O-okay.”

Relief floods me like a tide. I sink back into the mattress, the tension leaving my chest. There’s still so much I haven’t told him… but this much is enough for tonight. My eyes are already fluttering closed as I whisper, almost to myself,
“I’m glad I got to tell you.”

He murmurs something too low for me to catch, but the last part drifts through the dark.
“...but Cayti is a nice name. I like it.”

Heat rushes to my face, burning even as sleep drags me under. My last thought, to my horror, is a desperate, unshakable wish: God, I just want to walk over and kiss this guy.

And then I’m gone.