How would you cherish a relationship when you know they mean everything to you?
To cherish someone isn't about grand gestures, is it? It's about noticing the smallest things—the way they smile when they think no one's watching, the nervous habits they hide, the quiet sighs that say more than words ever could. It's about choosing, every single day, not to look away.
Because when they mean everything, the idea of losing them isn't just sad—it's unbearable. It's a nightmare that eats at the edges of your waking life, gnawing at your thoughts until you swear you'll do anything, be anything, just to keep them near.
And yet—
What if they return after being gone? What if the person you feared was lost suddenly stands before you again, smiling like the sun breaking through winter clouds? Relief crashes over you, yes, but so does something else: guilt. Fear. The reminder that you failed once. That you might fail again.
That's why the question matters. That's why it gnaws at the heart now, in this moment.
Because Luna—bright, untouchable. Despite him leaving her behind, Luna—had returned.
And for Tatsuya, the answer to how you cherish "everything"… would decide whether he could hold onto the warmth standing before him, or watch it slip through his fingers all over again.
Part 2
"So this is where you run off to? Wouldn't have thought you'd love the snow so much you'd let it consume you."
His heart stopped. That voice—light, teasing, dramatic, so painfully familiar that it cut deeper than the cold ever could.
Eyes snapping open, Tatsuya blinked against the blur, and the familiar wooden floor of the cabin swam into focus. His chest rose—he was breathing. Alive.
And standing over him, boots planted firmly as though she'd staked her claim on the entire cabin, was a girl. A girl with hazelnut hair that caught the faint glow of firelight, her smile bright and obnoxiously cheerful.
The air around him then had frozen, creating an igloo like structure.
"Surprise!" she sang, leaning down until her face filled his vision, her grin splitting wider. "Bet you thought you were about to be crushed, huh? Instead, you get me. Talk about an upgrade!"
"…Luna." His voice cracked on her name, a whisper half disbelief, half prayer.
"That's right, it's me~!" she announced, throwing her arms wide like a performer waiting for applause. "The one and only, the dazzling, the ever-magnificent Luna—back from the dead, back in your life, and back to drag you out of your sulking!"
Tatsuya stared. He stared. His body shook with leftover terror from the avalanche, with disbelief, with everything that had been ripped away and now slammed back into him at once.
And Luna—oblivious to the storm raging inside him—plopped down right on top of his stomach with a huff, making him grunt.
"What's with that look? Like you've seen a ghost? Sheesh, I work so hard on this flawless entrance and all I get is bug-eyes and silence? Rude, Tatsuya. Rude."
"…You…" He swallowed, his throat dry. "…You're really here."
"Of course I'm here, dummy!" Luna leaned in close, tapping his forehead with her finger. "You think I'd let a little snow keep me away? Please. Snow's cold, but I'm hot. I win every time."
Her ridiculous logic shouldn't have meant anything. It shouldn't have eased the knot in his chest. But the way she said it—with that infectious confidence, that energy that refused to let the world weigh her down—made it real.
Alive. She was alive.
How?
How is she here?
Luna… the village… it—everything burned down. I saw it with my own eyes. How—how are you still alive?
His hands trembled as if reaching to touch her, to prove she wasn't another cruel illusion, another nightmare with a smile.
If Luna was alive… then—
The thought struck him like a blade through the chest.
If she's alive… then are the others…?
Sora. Itsuki. Misuki. Nisuki. Yatsu and… Ruza? Faces flashed in his memory, he'd written off as dead.
He clenched his teeth, eyes narrowing with something dangerously close to hope.
No… if you… if you survived, then maybe—maybe the others…
It was madness. A fragile, reckless hope he'd sworn never to let himself fall into again. But Luna's existence here, sitting warm and loud and infuriating on his chest, cracked that vow wide open.
The ice walls glowed faintly in the firelight, curving into a small igloo Luna had
flourishes.
She was down with her knees drawn in and her brown hair dim under the icy dome, she looked smaller. Quieter.
Her expression softened.
"You must have a lot of questions," she said at last. Her voice lacked its usual bounce, heavy with something that settled into Tatsuya's chest like a stone. "I won't keep any secrets."
Tatsuya swallowed. His hands, resting stiff on his knees, curled into fists.
She breathed in slowly, and then: "The village was attacked by the Demon Cult. By the time we arrived… everything was already burning. Everyone was already dead."
"They said they wanted someone," Luna added quietly. "But… they didn't give a name."
Tatsuya's chest constricted. Wanted someone? His thoughts spun to the time Rukai told the same thing, he wanted him.
So that only confirms my suspicions, I really am the problem, huh?
He bit back the scream that he wanted to rip out of his throat.
I want to say I should've done more. That I should've known. That everything is on me… and maybe it is. But—
He shuts his eyes, seeing Meki's trembling confession in the dark, the way she asked him not to shoulder things alone.
But if I throw myself away here, then her words meant nothing. If I sink into guilt, I'll only betray her… and everyone else who's still alive.
He forces himself to breathe, the sound ragged, like lungs learning air for the first time.
I can't erase what happened. I won't forgive myself for it. But… I'll let it be my past, not my end and still keep moving forward.
"…The mansion. How was it all destroyed? Isn't Yatsu supposed to be… the strongest magic user on the continent?"
Luna's gaze flickered away, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Yatsu wasn't home when it happened. He was in Deity for a meeting."
Her voice hardened slightly. "More and more incidents like this are happening all over. The cult is going public again—after the Black Dawn."
Tatsuya blinked. "The… what?"
"The Black Dawn," she repeated, lifting her eyes back to his. "When the Seven Heavenly Saints, the Mage, the Sage, and the Legendary Disciples all joined forces to attack Nizhalgal. Even with all of them together, they couldn't kill him. After that, the Demon Cult went into hiding for years. But now…" she trailed off, fists tightening against her knees. "Now they've come crawling back into the open."
The name Nizhalgal echoed in Tatsuya's head like a curse. Saints, sages, legends—and they still failed? If even the strongest couldn't stop him, then what chance did—
"How did you get out of there?" His voice cut sharper than he meant, but he couldn't stop himself.
For once, Luna didn't scold him for the tone. She just answered.
"Yatsu is always prepared for things like that. There were secret passageways beneath the mansion. After we escaped, we took shelter in another one of his estates."
Tatsuya blinked. His brain stuttered. "…Another? He has more mansions?!"
And just like that, Luna's lips twitched, a shadow of her usual grin peeking through the sadness. "He's the most famous person on the continent, what do you expect? The man has more money than taste. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if he had vacation mansions for his vacation mansions."
Tatsuya let out a strangled laugh—half bitter, half disbelieving. "Unbelievable."
"Right?" Luna leaned back, her smile faint but real. "He should be called the Lord of Overcompensation instead of Archmage."
Tatsuya almost smirked—but the weight in his chest wouldn't leave. The answers she gave only unraveled more questions. The cult, Nizhalgal, the mysterious target they'd wanted.
And beneath it all… the gnawing truth: if Luna had survived, why hadn't anyone else?
Tatsuya's thoughts twisted in on themselves, circling questions with no clean answers. The weight of her explanation sat heavy, but one more question forced its way out, raw and unpolished.
"…How did you find me?"
Luna blinked, her sad expression wobbling into something more mischievous. "Oh, that's easy." She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, smirking. "I saw Stefan running down the mountain like a maniac, neighing his lungs out for help. Guess someone forgot to tie him down."
Tatsuya froze. His jaw dropped. "You're kidding."
"Do I look like I'm kidding?" she shot back, grinning ear to ear. "Your horse saved your life, Tatsuya. Meanwhile you were busy trying to turn yourself into a snow pancake."
His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. "…Stefan…"
"Stefan," Luna confirmed, nodding sagely as if declaring some universal truth.
And just like that, the avalanche, the cult, the despair—all of it cracked enough for Tatsuya to let out a disbelieving laugh, his palm dragging down his face.
Of course. Of course, it would be Stefan.
Part 3
After the snow had passed, the igloo walls melted under Luna's hand, water trickling down into slush until a hole opened into the frozen world outside.
The mountain no longer looked like itself. The forest that had wrapped the cabin in familiar green was broken—crushed, splintered, erased. What stood now was ruin: skeletal tree trunks jutting from blankets of ice, roots torn up and frozen midair, a silence so heavy it pressed against the ears.
Tatsuya stepped out into it, boots crunching the ice. His chest was still tight, but the first thought that hit him wasn't relief. It was—
Hah… Meki wasn't able to save these poor trees…
The thought landed stupidly, instinctively, because Meki always complained when he cut firewood "carelessly," as she called it.
But then—like a blade through the heart—his brain caught up.
Wait. Meki.
"—MEKI!!!"
His voice tore out of his throat, raw and frantic. Tatsuya's body jolted like it had been struck, and in the next second he was running, stumbling, crashing through drifts of snow deeper than his knees.
Behind him, Luna was calmly defrosting the igloo she'd made for Stefan, brushing snow from the horse's mane as she secured the gear. "There, all nice and—"
She turned.
Her eyes widened.
Tatsuya was gone—bolting headlong through the wreckage, his voice echoing sharp and desperate through the frozen wasteland.
"Meki!! Meki!!!"
Luna blinked, then frowned. "…Meki?"
She hadn't heard that name before.
"Tatsuya! Wait!" She tried to call out, her boots crunching as she moved after him, but he didn't even turn.
Panic was eating him alive. Every snapped branch, every half-buried trunk, every shadow under the snow looked like it could be her—looked like it could be what was left of her. His lungs burned, his legs screamed, but he couldn't stop. Not until—
His foot caught, and he almost went sprawling. Something small and half-buried in the snow clinked against his boot.
Tatsuya froze.
He crouched down, brushing the snow away with shaking hands.
A spoon.
The one Meki had been quietly working on by the fire, whittling the wood with the same delicate precision she hid behind her tense shoulders. The unfinished curve was smooth beneath his fingertips.
His heart stopped.
"…Meki…"
The name left him again, this time not as a scream but as a whisper, carried away by the endless white silence.
The spoon lay in his palm like a cruel joke. Small, fragile, unfinished.
A breath hitched in Tatsuya's throat, tight and burning. The air froze in his lungs until it forced its way out in a jagged roar.
"NO!!!"
His voice ripped across the ruined forest, shattering the silence like breaking glass. He dropped to his knees, the snow biting through his pants, but he didn't feel it. All he felt was the splintering inside his chest.
His shoulders shook. His fists clenched around the spoon until his knuckles turned white. He bowed forward, head nearly pressed into the snow, the word tumbling out of him again, weaker this time, strangled and hoarse.
"No… no… not again…"
The avalanche hadn't buried him, but the grief might.
Footsteps crunched behind him. Then arms—warm, steady, certain—wrapped around his trembling frame from behind.
"Tatsuya."
The voice was softer now, stripped of theatrics. No sing-song, no teasing. Just Luna. Just the girl who once cried in his arms, who had clung to him like she'd drown without him, and who now—without hesitation—gave that same comfort back.
He sagged against her, chest heaving, the fight leaving him in sobs he didn't bother to choke back. Snow clung to his hair, his lashes, his trembling hands still holding the spoon.
Luna pressed her cheek to the back of his head, her arms squeezing tighter. "It's okay… I've got you. I've got you."
He had no words left. No strength to argue, no pride to protect. Just the hollow, aching fear of losing Meki—and the quiet warmth of Luna's embrace holding him through it.
For once, she was the one who refused to let go.
He screamed her name, the girl who had saved him from being alone, from blaming everything on himself. Was gone swallowed by the avalanche.
"Meki!!!—"
"—"
Part 4
Tatsuya face was buried in the back of Luna's back. His arms wrapped around her.
Luna's hands gripped the reins of Stefan with ease, guiding the Goat through the snow‑clogged paths.
Tatsuya's eyelids grew heavier with each sway of Stefan's gait, each breath of icy wind brushing past them. The warmth of Luna—her scent, her presence—was a tether that allowed his mind to loosen, allowed the muscles in his jaw to relax. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words tangled and dissolved before they could form.
Instead, sleep claimed him in small, uneven breaths.
And when it came, it brought memories.
"Don't carry it all alone, Tatsuya," her voice whispered, echoing in the spaces between snow, between time.
He saw Meki again. Alive in that small, dim cabin. Her hands moved deftly over the unfinished wooden spoon, her fingers curling around it with painstaking care.
The memory pressed closer, sharper, and he could feel her presence beside him even in the dream. The small laugh she let slip when he teased her, the way she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the almost imperceptible sigh when she thought no one was watching… it all came rushing back.
And then, with a jolt, the warmth behind him shifted. Luna's back beneath his face was still steady, still alive. The scent of her hair, the faint heat of her body—it anchored him, even as the memory of Meki whispered like a ghost, both painful and comforting.
Tatsuya's chest rose and fell unevenly as the Goat carried them through the night. Slowly, gradually, the dream gave way. His muscles loosened in the rhythm of movement, and he drifted fully into sleep, surrendering to exhaustion.
When he awoke, it was not to snow or mountains, but the hush of a grand hall.
The air smelled faintly of wood polish, herbs, and the crispness of early sun.
We wasn't lying in a couch or a nearby chair, no.
The way he was positioned reminded him of his childhood, like being carried on the back of his father.
Because he was, he was on Luna's back.
He was being carried by her.
"Ah… you're awake," Luna said, her voice carrying that same dramatic lilt that had been a constant during their moments of chaos, yet softer now, calmer, careful. She had shifted her weight slightly, adjusting her hold so that Tatsuya didn't slide. "You were… impossible to wake. I tried. Honestly, I almost gave up and started thinking of other ways to drag you along. But then I figured… well, carrying you isn't much worse."
Tatsuya's lips parted, but no words came at first. But he didn't need to he was being held by someone who refused to let him fall completely apart.
"I… you carried me?" His voice cracked, faint, hoarse.
"Of course," Luna said, tilting her head back with a grin that didn't quite hide her concern. "You fell asleep before I could even tell you where we were going. Didn't want you freezing your teeth off, so I figured carrying you would work. Plus, it's not like you weigh that much. You should be thanking me, really."
Tatsuya's arms instinctively tightened around her back, not with force, but with a fragile grip.
He let his mind wander briefly, drifting as sleep clung to the edges of consciousness. In that half‑awake state, memories of Meki.
The ache of longing gnawed at him, but Luna's presence softened it, holding him upright even as his heart ached for someone lost.
He wasn't lost. Not entirely.
Not while she was here.