The lunch bell rang—and chaos followed.
The noise was deafening—an incessant clamor of chattering voices and shifting desks as a cluster of curious students swarmed around Rosalina's seat. Whispers, laughter, and urgent questions filled the air, all directed at the foreign girl who sat at the center of attention, calm on the outside but straining beneath the pressure.
Her smile was still there—but thinner, tighter. Subaru, watching from afar, noticed it. More importantly, he felt it. Her aura, once steady and luminous, began to flicker erratically—like a flame trying to stay lit against a storm. Subtle to most, but to him, it was a flare for help.
"Hey, how old are you?" a girl with bright eyes asked, leaning over Rosalina's desk, hands planted on either side.
Rosalina looked up, her voice still soft, though her fingers clutched her bento just a little more tightly. "Sixteen."
A chorus of disbelief followed.
"You don't look sixteen. You look like you belong in a fairy tale."
"Your eyes… are they real?"
"Ja, thank you," Rosalina murmured, cheeks tinged with pink. Her usual poise wavered for just a moment—but her spine remained straight.
"Seriously, you're way too cute," another girl chimed in, grinning.
Rosalina offered a polite nod, eyes flicking to the classroom door as if calculating an exit. She wasn't panicking—but she was cornered.
Someone perched themselves on the edge of her desk, getting too close. "If I were you, I'd be worried. The guys here are gonna fall like dominoes."
"And maybe the girls too," someone else added, with a giggle. "You ever think about dating one?"
Rosalina's eyes widened slightly—not with fear, but with firm confusion. "I beg your pardon?"
There was laughter, but it no longer felt lighthearted. Phones clicked. Someone hooted. The attention was no longer just curious—it was smothering. The teasing spiraled—mockery draped in feigned affection, egged on by the crowd's thrill. And yet, she kept her expression composed, shoulders drawn back, refusing to shrink.
Still—Subaru saw it. The way her aura pulsed like a warning. A plea.
And then—
"Back off. She can't even breathe, you morons."
The words sliced through the noise like a blade. The group fell quiet as Subaru stepped in, shoving a desk aside with his knee. His eyes were like ice, voice low and sharp.
He didn't wait for excuses.
"Move."
The crowd scattered, murmuring apologies as they backed away from Rosalina. He didn't say a word. Just grabbed her lunch, took her hand, and walked out—like the scene never deserved her in the first place.
And Rosalina followed, not because she needed rescuing—
But because, for the first time all morning, someone understood.
---
Subaru dropped her lunch box onto the nearest bench on the rooftop and sat a short distance away, arms crossed, expression stormy.
Rosalina hesitated. Then, quietly, she moved to sit beside her lunch, folding her skirt beneath her knees. She stole a glance at him.
"You're… Subaru, right?"
He raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised. "You remembered."
Her lips quirked into a shy smile, though they trembled slightly at the corners. "Your name is short. Hard to forget."
A scoff escaped him, low and wry. "Great. So I'm memorable in a weird way."
"Not weird," she replied softly. "Just… sincere. Like you."
The wind brushed past them again. Neither spoke. But the silence was no longer awkward—just fragile.
Subaru leaned back, gazing up at the cloudless sky. "So… where are you from?"
"Bamberg," she answered. "A town in Germany. It's my homeland."
He scratched the back of his neck. "Right. Germany. That explains the accent."
Rosalina unwrapped her bento with slow, practiced grace, the scent of seasoned rice and fried prawns wafting gently between them. She noticed Subaru hadn't moved, arms still crossed, eyes fixed on a distant corner of the rooftop like it owed him money.
"You're not eating?" she asked gently, setting her bento between them on the bench.
"I don't eat lunch," he muttered, gaze still averted. "Waste of time."
She tilted her head, visibly unimpressed. "You didn't eat breakfast either, did you?"
"Nope."
"That explains why you looked so displeased earlier," she said with a small frown. "You must eat—for your health, for your strength."
He scoffed. "What, you think I'm some fragile flower?"
"No," she said smoothly. "More like a wilting one."
He shot her a sharp glare, but she was already lifting a plump fried prawn with her chopsticks, holding it up with exaggerated care. Then—without warning—she leaned toward him and offered it to his lips.
Subaru stiffened, eyes going wide. "What the hell are you—"
"Feeding you," Rosalina said innocently. "Since you seem incapable of doing it yourself."
Her voice was soft, but her eyes glinted with mischief.
He blinked, paralyzed. The food hovered near his mouth. The warmth of her hand, her closeness, the unbothered boldness of it all—too much.
"Eat," she added sweetly. "Or shall I make airplane noises?"
His jaw dropped slightly. "Don't you dare—"
"Vrrrrmmm," she hummed, making the prawn wiggle in the air like it had wings.
"Idiot," he growled, face flushing a violent red. But then—against every instinct—he opened his mouth and took the bite.
The taste hit him instantly. Annoyingly delicious. Of course it was.
Rosalina smiled, triumphant.
"See?" she said airily. "That wasn't so hard."
"I don't need your stupid charity," he grumbled, turning his face away.
But she didn't stop. Still holding the same chopsticks, she took a bite for herself.
Subaru's head whipped back toward her. "H-Hey! You didn't even wipe them!"
She blinked, mock-innocent. "Why should I? They're just chopsticks."
His ears turned red again. "T-That's not the point! You can't just—! It's indirect—!"
"Oh?" she said, tilting her head coyly. "Indirect what?"
He faltered. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
Rosalina leaned a little closer, her voice low, teasing. "You look a bit feverish. Are you unwell, Subaru-kun?"
He scowled and jerked his face away, practically radiating steam. "It's hot up here, that's all."
"Mm-hmm," she said, clearly unconvinced.
For a few moments, the rooftop fell into a hushed stillness. Only the wind spoke—twisting around them, catching Rosalina's hair like a ribbon in motion. She looked utterly unbothered, radiant even, her amusement shining through her delicate expression.
Subaru stared stubbornly at the horizon, trying—and failing—not to glance at her again.
She was too much.
Too calm. Too clever.
Too dangerous.
---
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Subaru stayed distant, always at the edge of her awareness, like a shadow that refused to detach. He didn't speak, didn't follow too closely—but his presence never quite faded.
---
A quiet tension settled over the city streets. Dusk rolled in heavy, dragging a thick haze of shadows over the rooftops, the air perfumed faintly with the scent of rain that hadn't yet fallen.
Rosalina walked alone, her uniform neat despite the long day. Her polished shoes clicked softly against the pavement. Strands of light pink hair caught and shimmered beneath each passing streetlamp.
She looked composed. Elegant.
But Subaru, watching from the rooftops above—always just a few steps out of reach—saw it.
That flickering again.
Her aura strained at the edges, like a candle flickering in wind. A low thrum pulsed around her, something he couldn't quite name.
That flicker in her aura again… like starlight breaking through fog.
She wondered, not for the first time, if being different would always feel this loud. Some days, the weight of it was manageable—other times, like tonight, it was deafening.
She turned a corner—and froze.
Figures stepped from a narrow alley ahead, three men cloaked in casual malice.
"Well, well," one sneered, his eyes raking over her, "what's a sweet little foreigner like you doing out here all alone?"
Her expression didn't change. But her eyes sharpened. Cold. Calculating.
"Let me pass," she said, her voice clear, without tremble.
The men exchanged grins and began to surround her.
One reached for her shoulder.
He never made contact.
A blur of silver and black shot from the shadows—Subaru's boot met the man's side with a dull, thunderous crack, slamming him into the alley wall.
Another man turned to shout, but Rosalina moved faster.
She pivoted sharply, skirt flaring slightly, before slamming her elbow into his ribs. He gasped. A follow-up punch to the jaw sent him reeling. She moved with striking precision.
She pivoted on one heel, skirt flaring slightly, before slamming her elbow into his side—Vati's training echoing in her bones.
There was grace in every motion—controlled, practiced. Like a dancer mid-performance.
But her strikes were ruthless. Efficient.
She moves like someone who had been taught not only how to defend—but how to finish.
Subaru stilled, watching. He had expected fear. Hesitation.
Not this.
A third man cursed and raised a pistol.
The shot rang out.
Rosalina twisted to the side—the bullet grazing her sleeve—and retaliated with a spinning kick that struck his wrist. The gun clattered to the ground.
Another lunged from behind, aiming to grab her.
But Subaru was faster.
In a blur, he intercepted, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting until a snap echoed in the air. The attacker howled and collapsed, unconscious a second later.
The alley fell silent.
Rosalina stood straight, untouched, breath steady—not heaving, not shaken.
No sweat beaded on her brow. No tremble in her hands.
She wasn't even winded. Her breath didn't hitch. Her posture remained regal—as if nothing had happened at all.
Subaru stared at her, brows furrowed.
Something about her didn't add up.
No ordinary human fights like that. And no ordinary girl walks away from it so… perfectly still.
She turned to him calmly, her voice soft. "Thank you."
Subaru grunted. "Only an idiot walks alone at night."
She smiled, teasing. "Perhaps. But I'm not afraid."
He narrowed his gaze, stepping closer, silver eyes shadowed. "Not yet."
They stood like that for a moment—city noise muffled by the thick alley walls. Wind tugged at her hair again, catching strands like threads of silk.
Then, without quite realizing why, he spoke again. "I'll walk you home."
Her eyes widened, just briefly. Then softened.
"All right."
---
They walked in silence at first, the city winding quietly around them. Her stride was steady. Poised. He walked half a step behind, hands stuffed in his pockets.
Subaru glanced sideways once or twice.
She wasn't faking that calm. No panic, no nerves. Just… stillness.
What the hell is she?
But the question stayed behind his teeth.
"So," she said lightly, "do you always follow girls across rooftops?"
He blinked. "No."
"Just me, then?"
A grunt. "You're careless."
"I'm aware."
She glanced at him. "And you care?"
He said nothing.
Rosalina smiled faintly. "You're still flushed."
"It's warm, okay?" he snapped.
The edges of her laughter folded into the wind.
---
They reached her apartment—a modest but elegant building nestled between trees and low fences.
She turned to him on the steps, hand on the railing. "Would you like to come in?"
He hesitated.
This was a bad idea. He didn't do this. He didn't get close. But she looked at him like he wasn't just another monster. Like he was worth trusting.
"…Sure. Just for a bit."
She nodded and unlocked the door.
As she stepped inside, the faint scent of lavender and parchment filled the air. It felt… like home.
Subaru lingered at the threshold for a second, before stepping in after her—silent, uncertain, and deeply curious.
Why did her presence make everything feel louder… and quieter at the same time?
The space was small, but warm and full of personality—art books, tea tins, neatly folded throws. He heard the bathroom door shut quietly.
Moments later, it opened again.
Rosalina stepped out wearing nothing but an oversized white shirt that hung just past her mid-thigh. Her damp hair clung to her collarbone, water still trailing from the ends. She looked both vulnerable and fearless.
Subaru's breath caught. He jerked his head away. "W-What the hell are you wearing?!"
"My pajamas."
She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"That's not pajamas!"
"If I sleep in it, then it is," she said with a shrug, though the slight upward curl of her lips betrayed amusement.
His gaze flickered to her legs before he forced himself to look at the ceiling.
Was she trying to kill him?
She stepped closer. Too close.
"Subaru? Is something wrong?"
"No! I just… You were staring at me today. In class."
"That's because I'm interested in you."
He froze.
Interested? No one had ever said that to him. Not like that. Not without fear or agenda.
She didn't know what he was. And still…
"I saw you punch a wall. It didn't hurt you. Could you teach me?"
"No," he said, too quickly.
Her expression softened. "That's too bad…"
Her eyes fluttered, and her body wavered slightly—as if she'd been standing too long.
"Hey. You alright?"
"The time difference," she murmured, voice low. "I'm tired."
"Then lie down."
She smiled at him. And before he could react, she walked past the couch and settled onto the floor beside him. With complete trust, she leaned sideways, head gently resting in his lap.
"Goodnight, Subaru. Sweet dreams."
He went completely still.
Her breathing slowed within seconds—steady, deep. She had truly fallen asleep. Her face was peaceful, brows relaxed, lips parted slightly.
He stared at her—this strange, stubborn girl who smiled like a lady and fought like a soldier. Who didn't flinch from him. Who looked at him like he wasn't a curse or a shadow—but something… else.
He realized, in a way that made his chest constrict, he was tethered to her calm. To the way she made stillness feel full instead of hollow.
He didn't move for a long time.
Eventually, when the weight of her presence had lulled the buzz in his mind to something close to silence, he shifted gently, laying her down on the soft rug with care.
Blanket. Pillow. Small gestures he didn't even remember deciding to make.
Before slipping out, he glanced back once more.
Her chest rose and fell in even rhythm, hand tucked under her cheek.
His hand twitched—then curled into a fist. Not to restrain anger this time… but the urge to reach out.
Another night alone, but this time… it didn't feel quite the same.
He didn't understand her. But something told him… he wanted to.
---