A few days passed.
Slowly, things began to settle.
The tension that had lingered in the mansion after everything—the arguments, the exhaustion, the fever—faded into something quieter. Something steadier.
Izana had recovered.
Not completely, perhaps, but enough that the weakness was gone from his movements, enough that the color had returned to his face. The fever had broken, leaving behind only a faint trace of what had happened.
Leah still checked on him.
Out of habit.
Out of worry.
Out of something deeper she didn't question.
That morning, she found him already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve.
She paused in the doorway, watching him for a second.
"You're up early," she said softly.
Izana glanced at her.
"…You're still checking."
Leah blinked, then walked over anyway, her hand instinctively brushing against his forehead.
Cool.
Normal.
She exhaled quietly.
"Just making sure."
His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than usual.
Then—
"Get ready."
Leah tilted her head slightly.
"For what?"
"We're going out."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
No room for argument.
Leah raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Out…?" she repeated. "As in—outside?"
A faint flicker of amusement crossed his expression.
"Yes."
She studied him for a second.
"No convoy?"
"No."
"No guards?"
"No."
"No…" she paused, a small smile forming, "…Dante?"
Izana stood, adjusting his jacket.
"Just us."
Something about the way he said it made her chest feel lighter.
Leah smiled.
"Alright," she said simply.
—
It felt different.
That was the first thing Leah noticed.
The moment they stepped outside together—no line of cars, no silent watchful presence surrounding them—it felt… lighter.
Quieter.
Normal.
Izana walked beside her, not ahead, not behind.
Beside.
Their hands brushed once.
Then again.
And this time, neither of them pulled away.
Instead—
His fingers slipped into hers naturally.
Leah glanced at him briefly.
He didn't look at her.
But his grip tightened just slightly.
She smiled to herself.
—
The streets were calm.
Not empty, but not crowded either. Just enough people moving about, going on with their lives, that it felt alive without being overwhelming.
It was… ordinary.
And that was what made it different.
Leah found herself noticing things she hadn't paid attention to in a long time—
The sound of quiet conversations.
The faint laughter of someone nearby.
The warmth of the sun against her skin.
She slowed slightly as they walked, her gaze drifting from one small detail to another.
Izana noticed.
Of course he did.
"You're staring," he said.
Leah glanced at him.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
She smiled faintly.
"I haven't been out like this in a while."
His expression softened just slightly.
"…I know."
—
They stepped into a shop not long after.
It wasn't overly extravagant.
Just refined enough.
Quiet.
Warm lighting, soft colors, the faint scent of something clean and subtle in the air.
Leah moved ahead slightly, her fingers brushing lightly against fabrics as she looked around.
Izana didn't follow immediately.
Instead, he stayed where he was for a moment—
Watching her.
The way she moved.
The way her expression changed, softened, relaxed.
It was different from how she looked in the mansion.
Lighter.
He stepped forward then, closing the distance between them.
Leah picked up a piece of clothing, studying it briefly.
"This one's nice," she murmured.
Izana glanced at it once.
"…It's simple."
Leah gave him a look.
"That's the point."
He didn't respond right away.
Just reached past her, picking up something else instead.
"This is better."
Leah looked at it, then back at him.
"…That's not simple."
"It's better."
She huffed quietly, though there was no real annoyance behind it.
"You always do this."
"And you always choose the simplest option."
Leah crossed her arms lightly.
"And what's wrong with that?"
Izana's gaze lingered on her for a second.
"…Nothing."
But he still didn't put it back.
Leah sighed.
"…You're impossible."
A faint smirk appeared.
"And yet you're still here."
She shook her head, but the small smile didn't leave her face.
—
It happened quietly.
Almost without her realizing it.
Leah's attention shifted.
Not because of anything in the shop—
But because of something beyond it.
Near the front.
A family.
A small one.
A couple, standing close together, their child between them—no older than five or six. The child was laughing about something, tugging lightly on one of the parent's hands.
The parents smiled.
Simple.
Warm.
Uncomplicated.
Leah stilled.
Her gaze lingered longer than it should have.
Longer than she meant it to.
She didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just watched.
—
Izana noticed.
Not the family at first.
Her.
The way she had gone quiet.
The way her hand had stilled where it rested against the fabric.
The way her gaze had softened.
He followed it then.
Saw what she was looking at.
Understood.
He didn't speak right away.
Just watched her for a moment.
Then—
"…You've been staring."
Leah blinked slightly, as if pulled out of something.
"Have I…?"
His gaze didn't leave her.
"What are you thinking?"
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then looked back at the family.
"They look…" she paused softly, "…happy."
Izana didn't respond immediately.
His gaze shifted briefly toward them, then back to her.
Leah's fingers curled slightly against the fabric in her hand.
"It looks simple," she added quietly.
There was something in her voice.
Not sadness.
Not quite longing.
But close.
Izana studied her.
Then said, without hesitation—
"…We could have that."
Leah looked at him.
There was no deflection in his expression.
No avoidance.
Just calm certainty.
"If you want it," he added.
The words were simple.
But they carried weight.
Leah held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then asked, softly—
"Do you still want that?"
This time—
There was no pause.
"No," he said.
Then, just as calmly—
"I want it now."
Leah's breath caught slightly.
Something in her chest tightened—
Then softened all at once.
She didn't look away.
And neither did he.
For a moment—
The world around them faded slightly.
Just enough.
—
Then—
Izana reached for the item she had been holding earlier.
"This one," he said.
Leah blinked.
"…You're still getting that?"
"Yes."
"I didn't even say I wanted it."
"You were holding it."
"That doesn't mean—."
"I'm getting it."
Leah stared at him for a second.
Then laughed softly.
"…You're unbelievable."
"And yet—."
"Yes," she cut in, smiling now, "I'm still here."
His expression shifted slightly.
Softer.
Familiar.
—
They left the shop not long after.
The sun still warm.
The streets still calm.
Their hands found each other again.
Naturally.
Easily.
And this time—
Neither of them let go.
Because the thought that had once felt distant—
Didn't feel that way anymore.
Not now.
Not like this.
Not when they were standing side by side—
Looking in the same direction.