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The day had dawned with a cloak of unease that seemed to settle heavily on Y/N's shoulders as he waited in his aunt's restaurant. There was a piquant scent of spices in the air, and the clanging of cookware usually sang of warmth and life, but today it sounded a melancholy tune. Y/N fidgeted with the edge of the tablecloth, his every glance toward the door painting a portrait of anticipation and underlying dread.

His aunt, a seasoned sentinel of the kitchen, caught the ripple of her nephew's disquiet amidst the symphony of her bustling domain. "Everything's as it should be, dear," she reassured without looking up from her sizzling wok, though her brow creased in mild concern.

"Okay," Y/N responded, his voice an attempted march of cheer across the dimming battlefield of his intuition. But the optimism fell flat, a brave flag on a windless day.

The aunt, her senses as sharp as the knives she wielded, watched him with an investigative tilt of her head. She knew the subtleties of human emotion as well as she knew her recipes—Y/N was perceptive, unnaturally so, and something was off. Was it Jingliu, the girl who had been at his side just days prior, the one who had unwittingly seasoned Y/N's world with a new flavor of friendship, or perhaps something more?

As if summoned by their thoughts, Jingliu arrived. Her elegance was shadowed by an unmistakable gloom; her gait lacked its usual lyrical rhythm, each step heavy with an untold story. Upon seeing Y/N, her guarded eyes betrayed a fleeting flicker of relief.

Y/N stood abruptly, the chair scraping back sharply. "What's wrong?" The question was out before he could dress it in nonchalance, worry etching his tone with urgency.

Jingliu's eyes, red from withheld tears, met his with a vulnerable intensity. "Let's... talk at your house," she said, her voice a ghost of its usually vibrant timbre.

"Here, sit first," Y/N insisted gently, pushing aside his own tumultuous thoughts. "I'll grab us something for the road."

In the sanctuary of the kitchen, his aunt was already wrapping up a bundle of nourishing fare. "I figured you'd need this," she said, her voice laced with unspoken understanding.

Gratitude flashed in Y/N's eyes. "You're always one step ahead, Auntie," he said with a soft chuckle, a transient spark in the dimness of his concern.

His aunt leaned closer, her tone hushed and heavy with implication. "There's a thread weaving itself between you and that girl. It's as if fate itself is stitching a new pattern right before our eyes."

Back at Jingliu's side, Y/N's attempts at humor fell among the shadows of their silent communication, a wordless dialogue of shared glances and half-smiles. Jingliu's mouth quirked in response to his effort—a silent acknowledgement that spoke louder than laughter could.

When their meal was neatly packaged, Y/N murmured his thanks. His aunt, locking eyes with Jingliu, imparted a morsel of wisdom, "In life's intricate quilt, every thread has its purpose, and we find strength in the weave of our connections."

Those words seemed to touch something deep within Jingliu. Her guard fell, just a little, and her "Thank you" was a soft whisper, a tender leaf floating on the wind of their understanding.

"Go on now, you two," the aunt urged with a smile, her eyes glinting with the satisfaction of a shared secret.

With the bundle in hand, Y/N and Jingliu stepped out into the day, the restaurant's doors closing behind them like the closing of one chapter and the opening of another. The air outside held the crisp promise of autumn, a refreshing contrast to the warmth they left behind, yet the invisible thread of their growing connection wove itself ever tighter, an unspoken promise in the cool whisper of the breeze.

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As they made their way through the meandering paths that led to Y/N's house, an uneasy hush settled between them, so thick it seemed to mute the very sounds of the city around them. Y/N, feeling the weight of Jingliu's silence like a stone in his gut, could no longer bear the pressing quiet. "So... did something happen?" he ventured once more, his voice tentative, probing the stillness between them.

Jingliu's profile was a study in sorrow as she glanced his way, her voice a mere breath, "At your house," she insisted. "We'll talk there."

Y/N's concern carved deeper furrows in his brow, and he made a silent vow, determined to be the friend she needed. "I promise, I'll help you with whatever it is," he said, the words not a question but an oath.

A faint bloom of color brushed Jingliu's cheeks, a delicate acknowledgment of the comfort his words brought. In a rare moment of impulse, her fingers sought his, her touch light yet filled with unspoken trust. "Don't worry, let's just go," she whispered, her grip tightening just enough to convey her need for his support.

With an earnest smile, Y/N nodded and led the way, their hands interlocked—a symbol of unity against whatever tribulations lay ahead.

Upon reaching Y/N's humble abode, Jingliu paused to take in the unpretentious structure, its simplicity a stark contrast to her own gilded cage. "It's...nice," she commented, the word not quite capturing the swirl of thoughts in her mind.

Y/N shrugged, a bashful pride in his eyes. "Mom prefers things uncomplicated," he admitted, then, with a playful flourish, he gestured towards the door, "Ladies first."

Jingliu's laughter, light and genuine, rang out as she stepped across the threshold, her spirits momentarily lifted by his chivalry.

The simplicity of Y/N's home was like a whispered secret, revealing the essence of the family within. As they entered, Jingliu's gaze wandered across the room, taking in the quaint decor that seemed to mirror the uncomplicated beauty of the world outside. Then, her eyes settled on a framed picture—a foxian woman, regal and kind, alongside Y/N. The connection made sense now, explaining the reaction her parents had the night before.

"Is this your mother?" Jingliu asked, her voice laced with a newfound understanding.

Y/N followed her gaze to the photo and nodded, "Yes, she adopted me." His tone held a reverence, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond they shared.

Jingliu studied him for a moment, noting the absence of vulpine features in his visage—a silent confirmation of the adoption.

Their attention shifted to the living room, where Y/N had laid out an array of books and writing materials. Jingliu's mouth curved in a smile. "You've prepared for our lesson," she noted with approval.

He smiled, proud of his foresight. "I thought we might spend the whole day with the lessons," he admitted while carefully placing the food on another table.

As Jingliu, with her usual precision, began to organize the learning materials, her fingers brushing over the paper and ink, a question piqued her interest. "These came from your mother's collection, didn't they?" she asked, her gaze locking with his.

Caught, Y/N offered a sheepish nod, his usual confidence dissolving into the air between them.

She arched an eyebrow, her voice taking on a playful severity. "We weren't supposed to use these, were we?"

Y/N's gaze darted away, his fingers finding interest in the intricate dance of avoidance. "Um..."

Sighing, Jingliu's demeanor softened. "No matter. Let's begin," she decided, her tone drawing a line under the moment. She was here to teach, to support, to connect with Y/N—not to reprimand him for his choices, especially when they were made with such earnest intentions.

And so, with the tools of knowledge spread before them and the room bearing witness to their burgeoning friendship, they embarked on the day's lesson—a subtle allegory for the learning and growth yet to come in their intertwined paths.

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As the sun traveled across the sky, marking the passage of hours, Jingliu couldn't help but marvel at the scene unfolding before her. Y/N's hands moved with an unexpected grace, penning characters with a diligence that belied the short time he had been learning. She had seen the arduous journey of education many times before, but Y/N's rapid progress was nothing short of astonishing.

"Are you some kind of prodigy?" she asked, her words tinged with genuine curiosity.

Y/N paused, looking up from his notes with a modest shake of his head. "I hear that from my mom too," he chuckled, "but the truth is, when something truly interests me, it just sticks." His eyes sparkled with a sincerity that made her heart skip a beat.

Jingliu pondered his answer, aware of the usual resistance scholars met from young learners. "But why? What joy do you find in this?" she inquired, her voice carrying the weight of her bewilderment.

Y/N's response came with an ease that caught her off guard. "It's fun learning from you," he said simply. "It feels like we're connecting, growing closer with every lesson."

The room seemed to grow warmer as Jingliu felt her face flush with a rush of heat. His words had set her thoughts ablaze, stirring a chaotic whirlwind inside her. 'Why must he phrase it in such a way?' she thought, the tempest of her emotions rendering her momentarily speechless.

Pulling herself from the internal maelstrom, she heard Y/N continue, "Although I'm getting the hang of the vocabulary, my writing still isn't as refined as yours."

In an effort to regain composure, Jingliu cleared her throat, attempting to sound nonchalant. "You're doing better than many, better than some adults, in fact," she asserted, offering him encouragement.

Y/N scrutinized her with a playful squint, his expression a mixture of skepticism and amusement. "Hmm," he murmured, a playful note in his voice as he considered her words before breaking into a grin and nodding his acceptance.

Their study session progressed, framed by the soft rustling of paper and the quiet scratching of quills, as the connection between teacher and student deepened into something richer, fueled by shared laughter and the thrill of unexpected discoveries.

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Under the cloak of night, the room where Y/N and Jingliu rested was a haven of quiet and the soft rustlings of paper. Y/N's hands were buried in a sea of parchment, the stark difference between his earlier scribbles and the elegant strokes of now spread out before him. His progress was a riddle that Jingliu, even with her precocious mind, struggled to comprehend. To her, it was as though he had leapt from clumsy strokes to the graceful art of a calligrapher with an uncanny, almost eerie, speed.

"Your writing's changed a lot. It's all swirly and nice," Jingliu observed, her words laced with a mix of awe and skepticism, as if she were questioning the reality of such a transformation.

Y/N looked up, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and confusion. "I just did what felt right. Is it really that strange?" he asked, the innocence of his question hanging in the air.

She nodded solemnly, her teacup cradled in her small hands. The steam wafted up, carrying with it the burden of her thoughts. Despite her young age, Jingliu's demeanor carried the gravity of someone much older, the result of her noble upbringing. "In our world, such leaps are unheard of, like a fish learning to fly overnight."

Y/N shrugged, a pile of papers slipping from his lap. "I guess I just think differently. But it's weird, I don't know what to do with this skill. It's not like I can use it to... I don't know, do normal kid stuff."

Jingliu set her cup down with a delicate click, her posture perfect, her tone instructive. "People use it for many things. For important documents, for art. Mother says a well-kept journal can be a window to one's soul."

"A journal, huh?" Y/N pondered, then his face lit up with a whimsical thought. "But wouldn't it be cooler to put memories into bubbles that you could just... watch again?"

"That's a lovely dream, akin to the tales of Aeons," Jingliu replied, her voice gentle, though it carried the firm touch of reality. "But we live in a world of ink and paper, not bubbles and dreams."

Y/N let out a playful, tired huff. "Fine, shatter my bubble," he said, the edges of his mouth twitching upwards. "But a kid can dream, right?"

"Indeed, one may dream," she smiled back, her eyes softening. There was a pause before Y/N remembered the morning's confusion, and he couldn't help but inquire, "So, what happened with your friend?"

Jingliu's smile faltered. She took a moment, gathering her thoughts like she was selecting the right words from a tray of silver. "I may have mentioned you to my parents."

He blinked, nonplussed. "And that's... bad?" Y/N questioned, tilting his head to the side like a puzzled puppy.

She drew in a deep breath, her eyes finding the intricate patterns on the rug before returning to Y/N. "My parents see me as their precious gem, to be displayed and boasted about. Like a... like a rare butterfly under glass," she explained, her voice tinged with a hidden sadness.

Y/N's expression softened as he understood. Jingliu was a showpiece in a grand collection, a treasure meant more for others' eyes than for her own joy. "So, you're like a kite that they don't really let fly."

Her eyes widened at the analogy, a nod accompanying her agreement. "Exactly. And they wish to tether me to suitors, each one another chain to bind me."

Y/N's gaze was steady, his attention unwavering. Jingliu felt a warmth in her chest at his silent support. She continued, emboldened by his empathy. "But then I saw the Cloud Knights, their swords danced in the air like lightning, and I knew... I wanted that. To be free, to be strong."

"And you will," Y/N said with quiet conviction, his belief in her as clear as the bright stars outside their cozy haven.

Jingliu's mouth curved into a small, hopeful smile, her narrative unspooling further. "I train every day, in secret. But it's tough, like climbing a mountain with no path."

"Sounds lonely," Y/N murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her chafed spirit.

"It is," she whispered, her hands unconsciously touching the small calluses forming, symbols of her secret rebellion. "Sometimes it feels like I'm chasing a shadow. Like I'll never catch it."

"But you're not alone now," Y/N said softly, his words simple but deep, "I'm here too."

Jingliu's breath felt lighter, her heart less encumbered after sharing her story with Y/N, his earnest eyes offering solace she hadn't known she needed. With the warmth of shared secrets between them, she turned to Y/N, her voice a gentle nudge in the quiet room. "Now, what about you? What's your story?"

Y/N's lips quirked into a thoughtful pose, his gaze drifting to the window where the moon cast a gentle glow. "Hmm, where to begin..." he hummed softly. "I was told I was adopted. My real parents were part of the Cloud Knights, just like the ones you admire. Something happened to them, something sad that my adoptive mom doesn't like to talk about, but... they're in the stars now."

As the weight of his story pressed into the room, Jingliu reached out, her small hand enveloping his with a comforting squeeze. Her touch was soft, yet full of an intent to soothe his pain.

Y/N offered her a grateful smile, the kind that held a universe of thanks. "My aunt is my dad's sister - she's the only blood relative I really know. Mom does her best, you know? She's a Starskiff Pilot, always busy. I get it, but sometimes, it felt like she had to choose between me and the sky. And the sky's really big..."

Listening, Jingliu's brows knit together, a whisper of sympathy in her eyes. She could sense the loneliness in his words, a kinship in their shared solitude.

Y/N's tone lightened, a spark of his indomitable spirit shining through. "I spent most of my life around my aunt's restaurant, helping out. It's funny, kids never really got me, but the old folks did. I was too much... something, for the other kids, I guess."

He shrugged, but Jingliu felt a flicker of protective anger at the thought of anyone not seeing Y/N's bright soul. Her grip on his hand tightened ever so slightly.

"And, uh, there are bullies," Y/N admitted with a half-hearted chuckle. "They're gonna be Cloud Knights, but they're just... big meanies right now."

Her heart clenched at the thought, the whispered 'if you say so' escaping her before she could catch it, her whisper floating between them like a fragile leaf in the wind.

"Yeah, but it's okay. Really," Y/N assured her, his voice buoyant with resilience. "I've been doing fine. And then... then I met you."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the very air charged with the significance of that statement. Jingliu's eyes, bright like polished rubies, looked at him questioningly, her voice a mirror of her astonishment. "Me?"

His nod was enthusiastic, a vibrant energy to it that matched his grin. "Yes, you! Because of that day in the woods, watching you train, I made my first friend. That's you, Jingliu."

Her heart swelled, a wave of gratitude washing over her. "I, too, am grateful. Thank you, Y/N," she replied, her smile blooming like a rare flower in the moonlight.

They sat in comfortable silence, hands entwined, two souls cast adrift by circumstance but anchored by a newfound camaraderie. As the night deepened, a rebellious spark flickered in Jingliu's eyes. "Can I... Can I sleep here tonight?" she whispered, her noble poise giving way to the innocence of her age.

Y/N's answer came with the candidness of a child's unfiltered thoughts. "Sure, there's no problem with that! You're always welcome here, Jingliu." His response was pure and simple, free from the complexities of adult reservations. Unseen by the two of them, his mother's caution about not bringing girls home lingered in the shadows, forgotten amidst the purity of their friendship.

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End of Chapter

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A/N: Next chapter will be about swords.