Rebellion

Shiro lay on the bed woven from moss, flower petals, and gentle roots—nature's cradle. His fingers twitched, and slowly, his eyes began to open.

Naiadine sat nearby, watching him. When his gaze finally met hers, she smiled.

Gracefully, she stood and walked to the side of the bed, grabbing a folded shirt. As Shiro sat up fully, still groggy from sleep, she tossed it toward him with casual precision.

Munching on an apple, she whispered through a bite,

"Wear it."

Shiro moved his limbs slowly, still shaking off the weight of sleep. With some effort, he slipped the shirt over his head and tried to push himself up from the bed.

But before he could fully rise, Naiadine's hand shot out in front of him.

"Naha," she whispered, blocking him. "I didn't give you permission to stand."

Without giving him a chance to argue, she placed both hands on his shoulders and gently—but firmly—pushed him back down onto the bed.

"Rest," she said, her voice calm but absolute. "You'll need it. You're the one who'll defeat the kingdoms."

Shiro's eyes widened. He stared at her, frustration burning in his gaze.

"Hey," he snapped, locking eyes with her. His tone dropped to a low whisper, sharp and defiant. "Who said you could order me around?"

He paused, jaw tight.

"I lost. Fine, I admit that. But that doesn't make me your slave."

Naiadine looked at him for a moment—then suddenly burst into laughter. She sat down again, still grinning, and casually tossed the half-eaten apple toward Shiro.

"Eat it," she said, smug. "You need stamina just to talk properly, boy."

She winked.

"Oh—and don't worry. It should be an honor to taste something my lips touched."

Shiro caught the apple mid-air. His eyes locked on hers, cold and serious.

"…Okay."

He took a bite, unfazed.

After a moment, he raised his head and stared directly into her eyes, unblinking.

"So… you know more about me than I do. Interesting," he said, voice low and steady. "I should've expected as much… from that damn fairy."

"She created you like this. So she can enjoy me suffering." Shiro whispered while taking another bite of the half-eaten apple.

Naiadine smiled softly, then stood from where she'd been sitting. She made her way to the bed and sat beside Shiro, legs crossed, her hands resting on the soft edges. Her eyes drifted up to the ceiling—a dome of curved wood, flowers hanging down like lanterns of nature.

"Let me introduce myself properly, Shiro," she said gently, a hint of amusement in her voice. "My real name is Erza. I was born from water. I don't know who made me. I don't know if I'm a god, a spirit, or something in between."

She tilted her head back slightly, her voice turning softer. "People called me a savior… and over time, they gave me a title: Naiadine, the Lady of Water."

"I can give life to small things. Birds, animals, insects. I can shape water however I want. That sounds godlike, right? But I don't know. Maybe I'm lying to myself. Maybe I'm something less."

Shiro listened quietly, munching on the apple as she spoke. When he finished the last bite, he wiped his hand and looked at her with a calm, flat expression.

"You're a goddess," he said bluntly. "Your beauty screams it. Your powers? Overpowered. And your name—Erza—it means morning light. C'mon. Divine energy all over."

Her eyes widened for a second.

Then—

Without warning, she wrapped her arm tight around his neck in a chokehold.

"YOU ATE THE WHOLE THING?!" she snapped, squeezing him like a snake. "EVEN THE PART I BIT?? YOU HAVE NO SHAME!!"

Shiro choked out, gasping like he was about to see the afterlife.

"I—I can't breathe—!!"

She tightened the grip just a little more, mock-offended. "I thought you'd have at least an ounce of shame left, but nope! You're actually beyond saving!"

He finally wriggled free, coughing dramatically and brushing himself off.

"I mean…" he muttered, dead serious. "I still don't fully trust you. But that was an opportunity blessed by the heavens. You think I'm gonna pass up a direct lip-touch bonus apple? Please. I'm not built to resist that."

Erza blinked. Then cracked up, laughing out loud like she couldn't believe what she just heard.

"You're rotten," she said between laughs. "Ridiculous. And a little bold, aren't you?"

She stood, brushing off her skirt again, her tone switching back to calm.

"Anyway, lover boy—you still don't know where your katana is, right? Or how to use that weird light power of yours."

Shiro tried to stand, planting one hand on the bed, but before he could get up—

Erza turned around slowly, eyes narrowed like a final boss.

With a voice as cold as an ice blade, she whispered, "Did I say you could stand? Rest. Until. Tomorrow."

Shiro froze mid-rise, her stare practically burning into his soul.

He gulped slightly, then muttered, "…Okay, Ma'am. Hmph."

A crooked smirk tugged at his lips as he added with a chuckle, "You wanted me to say that, didn't you? Hahaha… dream on."

Erza's eyes popped wide in a flash of awkward disbelief. "Huh—? Excuse me?"

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Fine then. Go ahead. Try to walk, tough guy."

Shiro, determined to prove her wrong, stood up all the way this time… took one step—

—and immediately collapsed face-first with a dull thud.

Erza burst out laughing, casually dropping into a chair like this was her favorite TV show. She leaned her cheek against her palm and grinned.

"Well, look at that," she said with a teasing hum. "You did it. Now it's your problem."

She stood up and stretched, turning to leave.

"I'm heading out. Help yourself back into bed—if you can."

Then she disappeared through the door, leaving only silence.

Shiro groaned, dragging himself up inch by inch and finally flopping back onto the bed with a long sigh.

"This girl…" he muttered, staring up at the wooden ceiling. "She's the anime waifu I used to dream about…"

He paused, a lazy grin tugging at the edge of his lips.

"…Yeah. This is gonna be fun."

—

In a shadow-drenched cave, a lone figure stepped inside, silent and deliberate. Deeper within, a woman stood facing the far wall, her long black hair the only visible detail beneath the dim glow of flickering candles arranged like a ritual.

"Esumi," the figure called out in a low, deliberate tone. "I need your help."

The woman didn't turn. Didn't answer immediately. The silence hung heavy in the air.

After a pause, her voice echoed softly, but sharp like a blade, "You trust me that easily? Even though we've only known each other for a week?"

"I do," the cloaked figure replied. "Because you're the most wanted person in the entire world."

Still facing the wall, Esumi didn't react. Then, with a cold whisper, she said, "Hinata. Speak. What is it you want from me?"

The figure pulled down his hood. Underneath was Hinata—his expression grim, eyes unreadable.

"The Dreamer has arrived," he said darkly. "He's with Naiadine."

Esumi let out a soft, amused breath. "So… he's already here. I've waited long enough." Her tone grew colder. "But don't act yet. Let him evolve. Let him grow stronger. We won't interfere with his path. Not yet."

She paused for a beat, her voice carrying a new weight.

"Our plan to break the borderlines of the Spare Kingdom must not be jeopardized." Then, calmly but firmly, "Now go. Continue the mission. I want results, Hinata. Fast."

Hinata nodded silently, then turned and disappeared into the darkness, pulling his cloak over his face once more.

Alone, Esumi slowly reached her hand toward the candlelight—fingers hovering just above the flame, never touching, as if communing with it.

Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"The Dreamer has arrived… It's time. Time to ignite the rebellion."

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