Hey guys,

Back with the second chapter and I have to say I like where this is going, I mostly wrote the first chapter as a prompt to get my words flowing again, but I found that I really like this idea.

I think this will continue to be in my OC's point of view since Shin-ah is such a mysteriously pure character (so different from the characters I'm used to writing) and I think I would just cheapen him if I tried to write through his eyes. Maybe I'll have little excerpts here and there if I believe it will add to the storyline but I'm undecided.

By the way, thank you so much LenaSakamaki for reviewing this story! It means so much to hear your thoughts since this was inspired by you!

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and feel free to let me know what you think in a review!

***Edit: So this chapter is quite different from its original version; I scratched out Aina finding Shin-ah's name so quickly. I think she needs more time to get to know him before she comes to that conclusion, so instead she finds a nickname of sorts, 'Meilė' (pronounced My-el). I will not reveal its meaning because just as her name does, this one draws back to her ambiguous past.***

Chapter 2

I was currently sat on the ground, my back propped against the stone of the cave walls, just staring. I was somewhat at a loss for words at the moment. What in the world is happening? My eyes had adjusted more to the dingy darkness, so I could make out that we were in a wider section of the series of tunnels, maybe it could pass for a room, though I couldn't be sure. The man had led me here, his grip gentle and warm against my own hand, it was almost soothing. I could hear the tinkling of his bells as he walked, bells that I know knew swept down from his mask. The steady chime was kind of lulling, it calmed me somehow.

We hadn't walked terribly long before arriving in this space. It seemed that this is where he spent most of his time, or so I would guess. That was mostly presumed because of the items tucked neatly away beside me, they appeared to be clothes, some type of fabric at the very least. Also because of his sure footed steps on our way here, as though he could have guided me in his sleep. Unless he has abnormal night vision. But, I couldn't be sure that he wasn't just that overly familiar with the entirety of this place. The rest of the space itself appeared mostly empty, a small pit was nestled in the middle of the area, though I wasn't completely sure of it's purpose. Mostly I was just surrounded by rock and dirt, some stalactites jutting ominously from the roof of the cave. That's kind of scary…

My gaze was currently stuck to the man in question though. I could see him seated across from me, against the opposite wall, not encroaching on my personal space whatsoever. It was surprising. Disconcerting as well.

I would have assumed he would have pounced the moment he got me in his chambers. I thought men were wild sex craved fiends? That's what that one girl said…Obviously I didn't know enough of how these situations worked; Which I didn't, sexual exploits were only learned of by me through murmurings of the walls from place to place, any first hand experience was nonexistent, thankfully. Though, the more I observed him, the more I noticed that he was as far as he could possibly be from me. Not respectfully so, but maybe out of fear? I'm not that scary looking, though…am I? Now that I really considered it though, he seemed completely ignorant of the meaning of our situation. So, maybe he was just being cautious?

I observed his frame, taking in his stiff posture, his bowed head. His masked face. That had reminded me that I still wore my own mask. I grasped the material with my hand experimentally. I observed him, noting that he still wouldn't glance at me, so I figured the mask may not have been necessary since he wouldn't even look at me. The villagers had urged me quite sternly to wear it, but I was still unaware of its purpose. What a pointless task, after all. Without another thought, I disentangled the object from my face before lowering it down onto the ground beside me, gently. Or so I tried.

I was trying to do it as subtly as possible so as to not accidentally gain his attention, but since it's so absurdly quiet in here, what should have been a soft clank of the material meeting the floor, instead echoed through the vast empty space. I cringed as I heard the sound dissipate down the various routes of this cave. Maybe he didn't hear it?

His head immediately latched onto my activity, I could feel his gaze piercing me through the slots of his mask. But it didn't feel hostile, or even upset, just curious. I wonder if he's always like that.

"…Sorry," I squeaked out lamely, unconsciously blushing at the intense focus on me. Feeling strange as my meek voice rang out into the heavy silence, why was he still so far away? His head tilted, almost adorably so. Like he couldn't understand me, though I knew he could. He had spoken before, however briefly it may have been. Now I felt uncomfortable, his interest was fused onto me and unwavering. It didn't make me feel afraid or gross, just…self conscious? Was there something wrong with my face?

I wanted to know what he was thinking, why he was studying my face so intently? Even through the mask I could tell his eyes were glued to the newly revealed features. It made me want to close my eyes and shy away. Some people thought my eyes were beautiful, but others were very scared of them. They were eerie looking, almost dead because of the extremely light coloring. If they didn't glitter so vibrantly I'm sure more people would mistake me for a member of the living dead.

I could tell the moment his eyes met my own, and that was particularly because of the parting of his lips, which similarly drew my eyes to his mouth. I appraised them, noting the subtle fullness and pleasant shape, but then I realized I was quite obviously staring and quickly averted my gaze. I justified my actions in my mind with the mere fact that his mouth was the only feature of his face I could see. Yes, that's it—moving on.

He was still centered on my irises and it irked me how curious I was about his observations of me. Did he find me appealing? That was the sole purpose I was sent here for after all, right? To please him. He clearly didn't know that though, or so it seemed at least. This made me all the more curious as to what it was that he did know, or who he was exactly. I ventured into unknown waters, testing them skeptically, "So, what is your name?" I question hesitantly.

Maybe that was a bad idea…I don't know this man, it's beyond my place for me to question a master so boldly. I can't help but scold myself, I knew better. I was acting much too casual.

When my inquiry isn't met with any sort of backlash, I take my first deep breath and wait for his response. It takes a while, almost as if he wasn't expecting such a commonplace question. Or for me to even speak to him maybe, I wasn't really sure. Eventually, in a very low voice he utters, "Blue Dragon."

My head cocked to the side, trying to decipher whether or not he was serious in his answer. When I got no indication of a joke being had, I balked. I wondered briefly if it was a self imposed identity or if that is what the villagers referred to him as. What an odd name…It had me wishing the villagers gave me even the slightest information on the man presumed to be my master. I didn't want to call him master though, even if that's what he was, which is why I was disappointed to be met with something else. I don't think I could address him as 'Blue Dragon.'

Thinking it over, I shook my head softly. No, definitely not.

The more I thought of that as a name the more confused I grew, as I considered that more of a title, maybe a nickname depending on what context it was used in. So feeling a bit of confidence after receiving somewhat of an answer, I felt a little less trepidatious when asking, "Wouldn't that be more of a nickname?" My courage quickly whooshed out from me when I realized how forward and informal I was speaking, cringing at the possible backlash.

Smart Aina, just keep pushing your luck!

Though I was met with none, thankfully. Quite a bit of tension finally left my body at this, and I patiently waited to see if he would grace me with a reply. He did and I found that I rather liked the timbre of his voice. It was low, yet soft and smooth. What am I even saying…

"…I have no name," his tone was sad and it made my heart clench, I couldn't imagine not having an identity like that. I was told my own name was given to me because of my haunting eyes, which I felt torn about. Yet, it was the only thing anchoring me to my origin; my past life of which I had zero recollection. I knew that was what separated me from others at the very least, and that distinction gave me meaning. To not have that—it hurts me to think about his position. Poor man.

I immediately want to remedy the situation and it scares me how much I want to rally for this man I know nothing about. There is just something about him, I sense something I can't quite grasp, but it feels along the line of a kindred spirit. That possibly we are more similar than I know. Quite a bold assumption, I know.

"Maybe you could choose your own name," I offer lamely, he didn't seem too convinced either. Yeah, that wasn't the best thing to say. The straight line of his mouth curved down just the slightest bit, so I hurried to think of something else. My brain was short circuiting under the pressure, and soon I huffed a sigh when no options presented themselves.

I should just give him a name.

That thought stuck quite stubbornly to the forefront of my brain, shoving any other possibilities out of the way. I cringed at the prospect of it. I didn't know anything about this man besides he was known as the 'Blue Dragon,' whatever that meant. Maybe I could ask him some questions and come to a conclusion then. He didn't seem opposed to my prying, if only a little shy…

"So, um…" I hesitated, wondering where I should start with this interrogation because that's sure to be how it will appear. "How old are you?" the question was irrelevant to my objective and only posed to satiate my curiosity, I inwardly scolded myself for starting this mission on the completely wrong track. Where is this disconnect from my brain to my mouth happening? It's like I have word vomit…He didn't appear to react much if at all to my question, his face returning to the stoicism I've marked as his default expression.

"Eighteen," is all he gives and I quickly deduce that he's not the type to blabber on about nonsense. Or he could just be unused to conversation, I do assume him to be all alone here. Or maybe he just doesn't like you…His answer finally registers and I try to hold back my surprise.

I had thought him to be a man of at least twenty, but he was only two years older than I. Maybe I should stop referring to him as a man? But the word boy doesn't fit his appearance at all. My head spins a little at the revelation, but I gather my wits and continue.

"Oh, I see. I'm sixteen myself," why I felt the need to offer this information when he hadn't asked is beyond my comprehension but I try not to dwell on it. "What kind of things do you like?" I pat myself on the back for posing a question actually useful to my agenda, though I'm startled out of my inner musings when my companion returns.

The little squirrel scurries up the length of my arm, perching itself on my shoulder, cheeks nearly bursting with the amount of food stored in them. I giggle a bit at the funny sight, moving my finger forward to stroke its petite head affectionately. What a cutie…It chitters back at me in happiness and a smile immediately graces my face at the sheer cuteness.

"Ao."

His voice shocks me a bit, my focus turning back to him and it takes a moment for me to realize he was answering my question. I instantly wonder who Ao is and where they are, so I voice these concerns.

He doesn't answer with words, just staring toward me and I'm embarrassed to say it took me a while to figure out that he was looking at the visitor on my shoulder. He really doesn't talk much, does he? Though I should have realized that at the mention of the animal's name, they quickly bound off of my body and ate up the distance between us before slithering up his instead, nuzzling his jaw appreciatively.

My face must look somewhat confused or unsure, as he elaborates briefly without having to be prompted, which is a surprise in and of itself. "She's my friend." It's a simple response and his voice holds an affection that has a strange effect on me. Hearing him talk in that tone, so pleased and sweet, gives me a warm feeling inside my chest. So it's a female squirrel, why that makes the situation just that much cuter is beyond me but it does. What an adorable duo.

I don't realize until this moment that I've been smiling like an idiot at his words, so I quickly wipe a hand over my face to hide my discomfort and prod him gently for more. "Anything else?" My soft query instigates another intense gaze from him which has me shrinking a bit, wondering if I pushed too much. I don't really know him after all.

I soon realize that he's just observing me once again, similar to the way he had when I first removed my mask. I wonder what it is he's focusing on? But before I question it, he's speaking.

"I like your eyes."

Heat blooms along my face and neck, my cheeks surely turning a bright cherry color at his words. He said it so simply, like it was a fact and not his attempt to compliment me. How embarrassing! Whatever it was, got my blood pumping fast to my heart and I could feel the thumping beneath my breastbone. The sudden urge to know what his eyes looked like plagued me, I hadn't given much thought to why he hides his face like the others but now the thought is arresting. I want to see…Focusing back on the situation at hand was probably for the best, lest I do something completely embarrassing like ask for him to remove his mask. I couldn't meet his eyes and I was afraid I would choke on the words coming out of my throat, but I forced them out regardless.

"R-really?" I cringed as my voice sputtered and the pitch was higher than my usual tone, though it didn't seem like he took notice of my internal struggle. Thank goodness…

"…Like the moon," he offered, and I completely froze. He offered these intense opinions so effortlessly and without care, like he didn't know how they would affect my fragile stability. Do you not know how your words are affecting me? You're going to give me a heart attack! Though I suppose he probably didn't and I was taking this all way too seriously, but I had never heard anyone compare my eyes to the moon. It seemed like such a beautiful thing, bright and sparkling in the night. So for him to say such a thing…it made butterflies flutter intensely in my stomach. A feeling in which I was not privy to, I had heard some of the other females speak of such things along with other frilly feelings, all relating to attraction. That caused me to blanch. What a dangerous thought. I quickly skirted around that and fought to think of something to say in return.

"O-oh, yeah. So, you like the moon as well then?" I breathed a sigh of relief as he nodded and it seemed the crisis was averted. It was a pretty swift save on my part, and for that I was grateful for at least some improvising skills.

Something occurred to me after this, out of all the things to speak of that he liked, he named the moon. I wondered about its significance to him, whether it was purely based on its beauty or if it went deeper. Personally it made me think of his place here, spent in what I can only assume is never ending darkness; Did he wish to leave? Did he enjoy the moon because it illuminates the blackness? The importance was hard to grasp, but I knew it held meaning regardless.

Meaning.

The thought made me realize I couldn't impose such an important thing on a man I knew hardly anything about. If I was going to find a name for my owner, I was going to be sure about it in every sense. It was the least I could do. I vowed to myself to learn more, to delve deeper so that I may give this man an identity to call his own.

I needed some way to address him in the meantime though, how was I going to figure that out? As I gazed at him, a word suddenly whispered itself into being inside my mind. Meilė.

Meilė?

I had no idea what it meant, but it lingered stubbornly in my thoughts. Why wouldn't this word leave my thoughts, why was I thinking about it now of all times? I couldn't figure out its place in this conversation. I wanted to test the word on my tongue. It felt so familiar for some reason that I couldn't grasp. Where did it come from?

"Meilė," I uttered boldly, I should have anticipated he would turn at the sudden sound of my voice, giving me his attention immediately. He was very attentive that way, picking up the smallest of sounds or movement and honing in on it. I found myself liking this about him. I could feel the question ringing out through his posture, waiting for me to explain my statement.

How could I explain, though? I couldn't help myself from feeling a draw to this word, as my lips curled around its letters…it felt, right. I met his gaze, thinking of the term in reference to this stranger in front of me. I wanted to attach this word to him, the feeling was instinctual I suppose. It was an urge I just couldn't seem to quell. The word reverberated inside my head, echoing its importance that was completely lost on me, prodding at memories I couldn't reach. But I could tell it was just that; Important.

I could still feel his interest during my internal debate. So, I decided to broach the subject hesitantly, not quite knowing how he would feel about me placing a nickname upon him so forwardly.

"Um…could I—or, would it be all right, if I called you…Meilė…?" after hearing myself asking something so bold, I inwardly cringed. What if he wasn't okay with it? What if I was completely overstepping my boundaries here? I couldn't explain this need to call him such an odd name, but I couldn't stop myself either.

I hadn't used honorifics. I could feel the blood draining from my face, the disrespect I presented was blatant. I feel myself panicking and fighting the urge cower. If I had ever done something so horrific to any of my past masters, I would surely have been beaten black and blue. My heart raced, though I couldn't really picture the docile person in front of me raising a hand to anyone. But, he would have been called the 'Blue Dragon' for a reason, right? I was losing myself in the frantic fluttering of my pulse, the fear was crawling beneath my skin.

"…What…does it mean?" he queries in a hushed tone, seemingly intrigued by the prospect of a name? Or, I could be completely misreading the situation, my skin broke into a cold sweat at the thought. Did he not notice my misuse of the name? I could only hope that was the case. I wouldn't be repeating that mistake to find out, of that I was sure.

I find myself laughing somewhat breathlessly, feeling the panic somewhat subsiding in my body, wondering how I can explain this foreign urge to him. "It's—so strange really," I start hesitantly, "I can't tell you what it means, or why I have this…pull to address you as such—" my words break abruptly at the end, I pause to gather my thoughts a bit more.

"It represents a feeling I can't place, and it just feels…right."

How pathetic an excuse to offer, now that I hear it out loud. I find myself wanting to take it all back, to shut off these troublesome feelings and apologize for my boldness. But before I can do such a thing, I hear a hum that draws my attention back to the blue-haired man. "…I—" his face tilts downwards towards his lap, seemingly lost in concentration before he brings his focus back to my face. His lips, they catch my attention as the corner lifts in a barely present curl and I find myself at a loss for words at the action. Is that what I think it is? It's subtle, but the smile he presents me with is nothing short of sincere.

"Thank you," his shy reply shocks me further and I find a weird warm sensations filling my chest, I feel so…happy. It pleases me to think that he likes the nickname I granted him and it makes me that more intrigued to learn more of this strange man in front of me. He's…unlike anyone I've ever encountered.

"O-of course!" I cough to tamper down my excitement, "…I'm glad that…you like it. We can find a more suitable name another time—if you want my help that is!" I rush out quickly, regretting my presumptuous nature. Really, I know better than to act this way. To assume he would want a person like me to bestow something as important as that upon him is dastardly. He does deserve to have a name he knows the meaning of at least, I definitely can't cement my ambiguous feelings onto him like I just did, permanently. It wouldn't be fair, but that doesn't mean I'll be the one to do that either.

I catch the subtle bob of his head, and find myself relaxing while letting out a shaky breath.

There is a genuineness in him that I have never encounter before, it separates him so drastically from anyone else. I had always thought of people to have hidden agendas, never doing anything out of the grace and kindness of their own heart, but his appreciation cuts that idea down at its core.

I'm so drawn to this—to him.

What more could there be to uncover from here? I was eager to find out.

Hope you guys liked it! Let me know your thoughts :D