Even A Transmigrator Would Falter

She opened her mouth to protest again, but he gently squeezed her hands.

"So what if I didn't awaken the class I wanted? So what if I can't go to some stuffy academy filled with egos and Higher ranked snobs?"

His smile deepened — just a little crooked now, like the boyish grin he used to give her when they were younger.

"I'd rather stay here… and spend my days bothering you. Teasing you. Making sure you burn breakfast at least twice a week just because I showed up behind you while you were cooking."

Laura froze.

Her cheeks slowly turned a bright crimson.

"Y-You — ! That only happened once! And it was because you startled me, you brat — !"

Before she could finish her defensive rant, Lucien leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

The world went silent.

Her body went stiff, and her brain blue-screened like a corrupted golem core.

"You — wha — ?!"

Lucien just stepped back, nonchalantly adjusting his coat like nothing happened.

"I'm just saying," he added with a teasing tone, "being stuck here doesn't sound that bad if you're around."

Laura stared at him, mouth slightly open, face fully red.

At that exact moment, the door to the dining hall creaked open.

A maid stepped in — very much pretending not to notice the scandalous scene she may or may not have just walked in on.

"Ahem… Lady Emily is waiting for you, Master Lucien. In the east courtyard."

Lucien didn't miss the flash of relief on Laura's flustered face.

"Thank you," he said smoothly, already walking past the maid. "Tell her I'm on my way."

He spared Laura one last glance over his shoulder.

"Try not to miss me too much, big sister."

"G-Get out!"

Her thrown napkin missed his head by inches.

But her smile lingered.

…

Lucien continued walking behind the maid, hands stuffed into his coat pockets and heart pounding in a rhythm that felt louder than his footsteps.

He wasn't a stranger to this feeling.

The fluttering anxiety, the slight breathlessness, the anticipation of a conversation you don't want to mess up.

It felt familiar — because it was. Not just to Lucien, but to the one whose body he now occupied.

In the game, when this side character had died during a mission early in the second arc, two people had taken it the hardest.

Laura.

And Emily.

His chest tightened a little as he thought about Laura's expression earlier — her warmth, her worry, that crimson flush after he kissed her cheek.

She cared about him. Genuinely.

But now, as he followed the maid past the crumbling stone walls and through the wooden arch that opened into the east courtyard, his thoughts drifted to the other girl — the one he'd long admired both as a player and now, as the person who held these memories.

He didn't want to hurt anyone this time.

He had a second chance, damn it. He'd protect them. Both of them.

The maid stopped at the final door, then bowed slightly.

"She's waiting inside."

Lucien nodded and took a deep breath, clenching his fist for a moment before releasing it. His palms were warm.

This was it.

She opened the door.

Lucien stepped through into the east courtyard — and it was like walking into a whole different world.

The courtyard was alive with color.

The stone pathway was lined with blooming red and silver frostroses — delicate flowers that only grew where mana naturally lingered.

Their petals glistened slightly in the light, catching morning dew and refracting soft magic hues.

A marble fountain stood at the center, gurgling gently, its water dancing upward in a loop controlled by a lazy wind rune.

The bushes were trimmed perfectly, the trees spaced to give just enough shade to the sitting area, where a single iron bench stood with intricate carvings of phoenixes and stars.

And then —

His eyes found her.

Emily.

Her long silver hair cascaded down to her waist like liquid starlight, swaying gently in the breeze.

She wore a simple white blouse tucked into dark riding pants, but there was no hiding her figure — curves that would've made most artists scrap their old muse and start over.

Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, revealing slender arms that still bore faint traces of her recent Awakening trial.

She looked ethereal… and yet completely real.

The moment her eyes found his, they lit up like the first sunrise after a long winter. Her lips curved into a smile so bright it made his chest squeeze.

Lucien felt the tips of his ears burn.

He was not safe. Not even as a transmigrator.

"Lucien!"

She ran to him with all the grace of a knight charging into battle — except instead of a blade, she wielded affection.

And then — impact.

Soft. So, so soft.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying his face right in her chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I thought… you weren't going to come and see me."

Lucien, still face-deep in divine fluff, let out a muffled, "Mmpf."

Then he managed to surface and glance up at her, cheeks redder than a flamefruit.

"…Would I have a reason not to?" he asked.

She blinked, then smiled — this time softer, almost shyly.

"You looked so down yesterday. I didn't know if you wanted to talk."

"Well," he said with a lopsided grin, "you make a pretty compelling reason to get out of bed."

Emily's blush now matched his.

"…Idiot," she mumbled, but she was still smiling.

She gently released him from the hug, but didn't let go completely. Instead, she laced her fingers with his and began walking toward the garden path.

"Come on. I want to show you something."

Lucien followed without hesitation. Their hands fit together like puzzle pieces.

The two of them walked in silence for a bit, the only sound being the occasional chirp of mana birds hopping between the trees and the rustle of grass underfoot.

Finally, she stopped at a spot beneath one of the trees where the sunlight filtered through the leaves in golden streaks and turned to face him.