The Kiss and the Flame

Fatima sat on the edge of her desk, arms loosely crossed, listening as Amina recapped the past few days—the gathering run, the mutated dog, the near-death moments.

"That's… a lot," Fatima said finally. "You've all leveled up fast. But I'm really surprised by Zashirmiq's pace." She tilted her head slightly. "His Nexium must be some advanced type. Imagine if it wasn't damaged and had activated properly back at fifteen."

Amina nodded. "Yeah… his growth surprised all of us."

Fatima pushed off the desk and walked toward the window. "Honestly, after everything he gave up back then, I'm just glad to see it paying off."

Amina glanced up. "What do you mean?"

Fatima turned slightly, arms resting on the window frame. "I mean the hospital. After your incident with the mutated beast, he spent every shard he had to buy that revitalization potion for you. Didn't even hesitate."

Amina's breath caught.

Fatima kept speaking, unaware. "Caught all of us off guard, honestly."

She turned back toward Amina, squinting. "I always wondered how he managed to fix his Nexium after that. If he gave up everything for you, what did he have left?"

Amina held her expression steady, but something inside cracked and shifted.

He never told me.

She forced a calm breath. "Yeah… well, about that day… I went out alone because I'd found a Windborne Zephyr Fruit. Thought I could grab it before anyone else caught wind."

Fatima blinked. "Seriously? A Windborne? That's no small find. Doesn't it unlock Wind Energy Domain if consumed?"

"It does." Amina gave a small shrug. "We sold it instead. Used the money to buy the potion."

Fatima gave a dry chuckle. "Saving each other, always together, risking everything… Doesn't really sound like just childhood friends."

 Amina smiled faintly. "Yeah, maybe."

Fatima stretched her arms overhead. "Anyway, you're both welcome to join us. We just returned after a full month in the deep zones, so it'll be at least a week before we head out again. I'll update you once the prep starts."

"Got it," Amina said, standing. "We'll be ready."

She walked away in silence.

Her footsteps echoed across the corridor floor, steady and composed. But inside, her thoughts surged, not with surprise but with something long held finally breaking free.

He gave up everything for me.

Not to prove a point. Not to earn anything.

Just because he couldn't bear to lose me.

Her throat tightened.

She had always known, beneath the noise of duty and danger. It was in his eyes during every battle, in the steadiness of his presence, in how he never needed to speak his care aloud.

He had always loved her.

And she had always felt the same.

She had just been waiting. For the right moment. For clarity. For something undeniable.

Now it was here.

A warmth bloomed in her chest. Steady. Aching. Fierce. Not new. Just finally unbound.

She didn't head to Zashirmiq's.

Not yet.

She turned toward her own home.

She needed a moment.

To breathe.

To think.

Then… she'd go to him.

And then, as promised, she arrived at his door.

He opened it, and paused.

His gaze dropped for just a moment, taking in the low-cut black t-shirt, the way it hugged her curves, how the sarong wrapped her hips with quiet elegance. Not flashy. But undeniably different.

Beautiful.

He swallowed once, then met her eyes. "You're… dressed up."

"Long day," she said, stepping inside. "Almost died. Thought I'd wear something comfortable."

He gave a small nod, closing the door behind her, but he couldn't quite keep his eyes from drifting again. The way her hair framed her face. The subtle sway of her walk as she moved past him.

They sat down to eat—simple seared meat, root vegetables, and broth. Familiar, grounding.

But something felt different.

Amina was quiet. Thoughtful. Her gaze lingered longer than usual.

Zashirmiq found himself watching her just as much.

"Fatima agreed," she said finally. "We'll be joining her team. They just got back, so it'll be a few days before they move out again."

He nodded. "Good."

After dinner, she stood. Walked to the door.

But there, hand resting on the handle, she paused.

"I talked to Fatima," she said softly. "About what happened after the Windborne Zephyr Fruit."

Zashirmiq stilled.

"She told me what you did. The potion. The savings. Everything."

Silence.

"And today… seeing you bleed again for all of us, for me… I realized something." Her voice didn't waver, but the air around them had shifted. "You never hold back. Not with your blade. Not with your words. Not for me."

She turned slowly and met his eyes.

"I've been waiting. For clarity. For a perfect moment. But maybe… this is clarity."

Before he could reply, she stepped forward and kissed him.

Her lips brushed his, soft and sure. A question. A decision.

He froze only a moment, surprised by the weight behind it, then answered. Fully.

His arms wrapped around her. One hand pressed to the small of her back, the other to her cheek, anchoring her like a lifeline.

Their mouths moved together, deeper now, slower. A kiss built over years of unspoken longing.

Her hands slipped under his shirt, fingertips tracing his warmth, the hard-earned strength beneath his skin.

When she pulled back, it was only to lift the shirt away.

She didn't speak. Just looked at him.

Then her own shirt followed, dropped silently to the floor.

Her skin glowed in the lamplight. Her hair cascaded around her bare shoulders. Nothing covered her now, physically or emotionally.

He stood stunned for a moment, breath shallow.

Then she reached for her sarong, untied it, and let it fall.

She stepped close and took his hand, placing it at her waist.

No hesitation. No fear.

With gentle hands, she undid his sarong. As it fell, his breath caught, his body already taut with desire, his gaze locked to hers.

She leaned into him again and kissed him, deeper this time. Then pulled him with her to the bed.

There was no rush.

He kissed her shoulder. Then her neck. Then lower.

She gasped softly, hands sliding along his arms and back. Their bodies met, skin on skin, heat blooming between them. She arched into him, her chest brushing his, every movement drawing a deeper breath.

She lay back, eyes on his. Legs parting instinctively, welcoming him.

He hovered over her, pausing.

"Amina…" he whispered.

Her fingers curled at his neck. "I want this. With you."

He nodded, leaning close, and slowly, gently entered her.

Her breath hitched. A soft sound escaped her lips. Her fingers tightened against his shoulders.

She tensed, a brief flicker of pain in her expression, her body tightening around him.

He stopped instantly, concern flashing across his face. "Amina?"

She exhaled, shaky but sure. "Just… give me a second."

He held still, forehead brushing hers. One hand on her cheek. The other at her waist.

After a breath, she nodded. "It's okay. You can move now."

He did, carefully. Each motion slow, deliberate, tender.

Her discomfort faded with each movement, replaced by warmth and a soft, breathless moan. Her arms drew him closer. Her legs curled around his waist.

They moved together, finding rhythm not through practice, but trust.

He kissed her again. She answered with a murmur, her lips parting beneath his, breath mingling with his own.

Her hands glided down his back. His fingers explored her waist, her thighs, the curve of her hips. Their bodies pressed tighter, and his control began to fray.

Zashirmiq felt it building, tension coiling in his chest, breath growing uneven.

Amina's hips met his, again and again. Her voice broke into a whisper, his name like a promise on her tongue.

That was all it took.

He came, hard, deep, overwhelming, burying his face into her shoulder as release tore through him. His breath stuttered out in a low, raw groan. His body trembled.

And beneath him, Amina arched, her own climax washing through her, soft gasps rising from parted lips. Her arms tightened around him, anchoring him to her.

A few system notifications blinked at the edge of his senses.

He didn't look.

Right now, there was only her. Only this.

They stayed like that, still, tangled, breath slowly evening out.

Later, they moved again.

Slower. More open. Less unsure.

He kissed her collarbone, her wrist, the soft line beneath her navel. She laughed quietly, her fingers in his hair, tracing patterns on his skin.

Again, and again, they came together, drawn by warmth, need, trust.

They forgot the world.

By the third morning, sunlight traced the walls.

She slept beside him, her head on his chest, breath steady, skin pressed against his.

Zashirmiq held her close, and for the first time in days…

He finally opened the notifications.

[Companion System: UNLOCKED]

[Omnilink Castle Obtained]

Shop Updated:

– [Fire Domain: UNLOCKED]

– [Lightning Domain: UNLOCKED]