Chapter 83: Whispers by a Campfire

The morning we were set to leave for the Dragon’s Tooth mountains, the cottage was a hive of grim activity. While Lirael, Kaelen, and Elara prepared with the deadly focus of seasoned professionals, I was struggling to pack a simple satchel.

“We need snacks,” Mochi’s voice insisted from his perch on my bed. “Dragon-slaying is hard work. It requires carrots and a tiny, bunny-sized helmet. Preferably in a stylish, battle-ready amethyst.”

“We don’t have time for that,” I muttered, trying and failing to fold my frilly dress into the small bag.

Natsuki entered the room, his own pack already slung over his shoulder. He saw my struggle and offered a small, gentle smile. “Don’t worry about packing too much,” he said. “Lirael handles most of our supplies.” He paused, holding out a well-worn but clean waterskin. “Here. You’ll need this. It’s important to stay hydrated.”

The simple, practical kindness of the gesture made my heart ache. “Thank you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper as my fingers brushed his.

Our departure was a quiet, tense affair. We slipped out of the city gates as the sun began its climb, five figures walking towards the distant, jagged peaks. The first few hours were a silent march, the weight of the party’s distrust pressing down on me. I was an imposter, a fraud, and I had never felt so utterly alone.

That night, the tension around the campfire was thick enough to cut with one of Kaelen's daggers. Natsuki, ever the leader, assigned the watches. “I’ll take first. Lirael, you have second. Kaelen, third. Aki, you and Elara can take the last one, just before dawn.”

Elara gave a curt nod, her eyes not leaving the ancient text she was reading. As Natsuki moved to the edge of the clearing to begin his watch, Lirael fixed me with her icy gaze, her long-suffering sigh a prelude to the confrontation I knew was coming.

“He is too kind for his own good,” she said, her voice a low murmur that held no warmth. “He sees a lost girl in need of help. He doesn’t see the danger.”

“I’m not a danger,” I said, my voice small.

“Aren’t you?” she asked, her sharp, clear eyes meeting mine. “Your magic is chaos. Your familiar is a paradox. Your backstory is a convenient void. You are a disruption, Aki. And on a quest like this, a disruption can get us all killed.”

Before I could respond, Kaelen’s voice, rough with sleep, cut in from her bedroll. “She’s right, pixie. We trust Natsuki's judgment, even when he’s being an idiot. But if your little ‘chaos mascot’ routine gets him hurt… I will personally find out if magical girls can be skinned.”

The threat was delivered with a terrifying, sleepy finality. I was cornered, with Lirael’s cold glare, Kaelen’s promising pain, and Elara’s unnerving, silent intensity all focused on me.

“I… I wouldn’t,” I stammered, my defenses kicking in. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to him! I’m here to help!”

“To help?” Lirael’s laugh was a soft, bitter sound. “You, a girl who can barely walk without tripping, are going to help us fight a dragon? Tell me, Aki, what will you do when the Crimson King breathes fire? Will you throw your bunny at it?”

The question hung in the air, dripping with scorn. And I had no answer. My mortal avatar would be incinerated in an instant. The only way to protect them would be to unleash my true power, a divine act that would shatter my disguise and bring the wrath of the cosmos down upon us all. I just sat there, my face burning, the full, catastrophic stupidity of my plan laid bare.

It was Natsuki who saved me. His quiet voice cut through the tension from the edge of the firelight. “That’s enough.”

He walked back into the camp, his expression uncharacteristically stern. He looked at the three women, his gaze lingering on each of them. “I brought Aki into this party. She is my responsibility. I trust her.” He then turned to me, and the sternness in his eyes softened into that familiar, gentle warmth.

“I don’t know why,” he said, his voice quiet but clear enough for everyone to hear. “I know it doesn’t make sense. But when you’re around, Aki, I feel… something. A feeling I can’t explain. Like I’ve known you for a long time. It feels… right. And I’m going to trust that feeling.”

The world tilted. He felt it. He felt the echo of our past life. My stupid, mortal, lovesick heart soared with a joy so fierce it was almost painful. He was remembering.

I couldn’t speak, just stared at him as tears welled in my eyes. The harem was silent, stunned by his declaration. Seeing my tears, Natsuki looked panicked.

“Oh, uh, did I say something wrong?” he stammered.

“N-no,” I managed to choke out, wiping my eyes furiously. “It’s just… smoke from the fire. It’s in my eyes.” It was the worst lie I had ever told.

The camp fell into a tense silence. The lines had been drawn. Natsuki was on my side, and they were on the other. This was a cold war, and I was the contested territory.

Later, as I sat for my watch with Elara, she finally spoke, her voice a soft, academic whisper. “Feelings are not data,” she said, staring out into the darkness. “But they are, nonetheless, a variable. And you, Aki Amakawa, are the most significant variable I have ever encountered.”

Her words chilled me to the bone. As dawn approached, I felt a familiar, cold presence watching from the deep woods. Isao was still there. And I knew, with a certainty that settled like a stone in my gut, that he had heard every word. He had seen Natsuki’s faith in me. And it would only make him try harder to break it.