It was already night; she leaned on her soft bed and continued to stare at the darkened sky. Please don't stop raining. She prayed, remembering Irene's condition. She was not a child who believed in gods but in desperate times, she couldn't help but ask them not to let the storm pass, just like how storms always do. She doesn't want this comfort to be short-lived. Slipping out from her bed, she stood by the window, gazing out at the relentless downpour.

"Please, just this once. Hear my prayers."

As she was lost in her prayer, the tranquil ambiance of the rain was shattered by a sudden and powerful lightning strike. The bolt of electricity split the darkness with its blinding flash. Startled, the child took a step back from the window, her heart racing in her chest. She took a few deep breaths as she stepped away from the window. She climbed to her bed and wrapped herself in the blanket, but to no avail; the echoes of the lightning's crackle lingered in her ears.

"I can't sleep." She mumbled to herself as she brought her hand to her ears, trying to muffle the thunder.

Will Lady Irene get mad if I go to her room? I can't sleep. She asked herself but soon shook her head, remembering that she didn't want to be a burden. She doesn't want to disturb Irene in the middle of the night, either. She tried to endure it, but as time passed by, the lightning strikes did not become less frequent. The rain persisted, and fear coursed through her veins. She couldn't help but get out of bed and seek solace from the unsettling storm. She cautiously approached Irene's room. Seeing the slightly ajar door, a flicker of concern danced in her eyes. Is she still awake? She asked herself as her tiny form entered her room.

"Lady Irene?" she whispered as she approached her sleeping form.

Her gaze swept across her form. Irene was leaning to her side, her scarlet-haired sprawling on the mattress. Does she sleep with her braids on? She thought to herself, enticed to touch the strands of her scarlet hair. The child's eyes widened as she felt her hand on hers, stopping her from touching her scarlet hair.

"Didn't I tell you to sleep already?" Irene asked as she leaned to her side, now facing the child, covered with her blankets.

"I-I'm sorry, Lady Irene. I-I couldn't sleep." She stuttered as she looked down, avoiding her prying gaze.

It has been a habit for her; she can't bring herself to look at their faces when something goes wrong. Irene wasn't an exception. She wanted not to interrupt her sleep, but now she finds herself trying to find words to excuse her impudent actions. She felt overwhelmed but soon trembled as she felt Irene's hands on her head, touching her scarlet tresses.

"You can sleep here," Irene offered as she slipped out from her bed.

Her mouth went agape; it was the first time someone had shown her such a warm gesture. She couldn't help but yearn for more. She wanted her to pat her head once more. The child protested, taking a deep breath to steady herself as she saw Irene sitting on her bedside table.

"L-lady Irene, you can sleep beside me. I-I promise I will not wet the bed," she blurted out, making Irene feel bewildered by such a request.

"Just for tonight," Irene sighed as she acceded.

A genuine smile spread across her face. She smiled as she watched Irene join her in bed. Her presence enveloped the lonely child's heart with contentment. Irene also shared her blanket with her since she had already covered her head with hers. Irene rolled her body to the other side. Despite not seeing her face, the child was happy to feel her warmth. Her hand slowly clutched the hem of her clothing as she felt herself slipping into her sleep.

"Goodnight, Lady Irene," she whispered enough for her to hear.

As they lay side by side, Irene found herself rolling her body to face the child. She watched the child breathe peacefully, clutching the hem of her clothing. Did she fall asleep that fast? She thought to herself. With her blanket covering her emaciated form, she slid her fringes as she longed to see more of her peaceful visage. Irene froze as she felt the child nestling closer to her touch.

"What a funny thing," she said to herself as she recomposed herself.

The child's eyes slowly opened, and she found herself waking up in an empty bed. A wave of sadness washed over her as she realized that Irene was no longer beside her. The warmth and comfort she had felt during the night seemed to fade, replaced by a sense of emptiness and longing. She sat up, at least relieved to see that it was still raining. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and went to the kitchen to look for her.

"Where is she?" she asked as she saw an empty house.

Determined to wait for Irene's return, she settled by the door, sitting and waiting as the rain poured outside. As time passed, she hoped the rain would stop so that Irene would get home safe and sound, but she knew she wouldn't want that either. Did she abandon me already? She asked herself as she stared at the droplets kissing the wooden floor.

She hated the fact that she needed to trudge along the muddy road to her cottage. She can easily use her magic to fly directly to her cottage, but she doesn't want her to know about her ability. She was afraid that the human child would freak out. Being cautious and conscious of her actions was something new to her. She cursed as her slippers became stuck in the wet earth. Damn, how is it even possible for me to find myself in this state?

"It's all your fault, Juliet." She said in frustration as she stared at the basket full of edible fruits.

At last, Irene reached her cottage. Her slippers were caked in mud, and her clothes were damp from the rain. She sighed in relief as she lifted her gaze and stared at the doorstep a few meters. To her surprise, she saw the child running in her direction.

"Lady Irene!" she shouted in glee as she ran to her side.

"You'll get wet," she chastised her as she beamed and helped her carry the basket from her hand.

The child did not answer; she clumsily carried the other basket from her hand, struggling with its weight. As they entered the house, the child followed her to the kitchen and placed the basket on the chair, unable to reach the countertop. Seeing the child's drenched form, Irene turned her head and grabbed the towel nearby, wrapping the child.

"Did you wait for me?" she asked as she stooped to her level.

"Um, yes," she nodded.

"You shouldn't do that again; you're drenched. You need to change now." Irene said as she stooped to her level.

"What about you, Lady Irene?" she asked, concerned about her.

"I will,"

The child's sigh escaped her lips as she observed her reflection in the mirror. Her small form was garbed by Irene's old garments. It was oversized and shabby for her size, but somehow, she felt warm seeing Irene's clothes on her. Her feather steps soon echoed in the halls as she went to the kitchen.

"Lady Irene," she greeted, making her aware of her presence.

"You should eat now," she said, gesturing for her to take a seat.

There were three chairs; the next one to Irene was higher than she expected; she struggled to take her seat and almost slipped out as she tried to take her seat. Luckily, Irene caught her despite her eyes glued on the letter she was holding. She awkwardly asked for forgiveness as she positioned herself on the seat. She grabbed an apple and stared at her serene face, reading.

"What are you staring at?" Irene coldly asked as she noticed her gaze on her face.

"I-I'm just amazed how Lady Irene can read a letter."

"You don't know how to read?"

"No, b-but I can draw."

"Really?"

"I can draw Lady Irene if she wants,"

"No need," she chuckled.

"Then can I perhaps know what Lady Irene's name is written like?"

"Why? I thought you can-oh. You can't write either?" Irene asked.

"No, but I can draw, really." She beamed, trying to reassure her that she really can draw.

"Here," Irene grabbed the pen and paper and showed her.

With each stroke of her finger, the child marveled at how she skillfully wrote the letters. She couldn't even write any letters, yet Irene knew how to spell her own name. She grabbed the pen and dipped it in the ink as she tried to draw the letters on the other paper. It took her two minutes before she was able to write the five letters on the empty parchment.

"I'm sorry, I'm not that good," she scratched her head in embarrassment as she noticed the disparity of her skill to Irene's.

"You're holding the pen awkwardly, that's why." She said as she guided her hand to the correct position.

"Now, try writing using that posture," Irene said as she let go of her right hand.

Slightly better than before, she beamed as she finished it within a minute. It was the first time she could write something. She tried to practice writing in the sand before with the signs she saw in the town, but it seems that holding the stick is very different compared to holding a pen. She showed her work to Irene, and in return, she felt a pat on her head, congratulating her on her work.

"Great job," Irene said, smiling at her.

The child glanced up, her eyes lighting up at her words. She smiled as she witnessed her diligently practicing her writing. The sight of her beaming face couldn't stop bringing a smile to Irene's face. Shouldn't you be happy writing your own name instead of mine? She asked herself as she watched her small hand gripping the pen.

"Why are you happy?" she asked.

"Because I can write Lady Irene's name now." She said as she continued scribbling on the empty sheets.

Well, to be precise, she was not writing at all, she was merely drawing the letters she had written, but somehow, the child seemed to be proud of it. What a clumsy human. She thought to herself as she sighed, remembering the contents of the letter she had previously read.

"What about this? Instead of writing my name relentlessly on that paper, why don't you write yours?" She asked, making her stop, looking at her.

"B-But I don't have a name."

"I'm not sure if you'll like it, but here."

Last night, after making sure that she was asleep. She called Juliet and asked her for some advice, but despite her efforts, she couldn't really find anything that suited her. Tons of crumbled paper lay on the floor, and Irene's frustration crawled into her. She had never once been frustrated about naming anything, but somehow, she wanted to name her something more decent and special. A few more hours later, dawn struck, and she was not able to sleep. She cursed herself as she used her magic to gather all the crumbled papers, sighing in defeat.

After writing four letters on the other paper, she watched the child's reaction. Irene was unsure what to name her, but when that word suddenly popped into her head, it felt like a sweet name. She watched the child smiling, but it seems that she doesn't know what it is. Oh heavens, she doesn't know how to read. She mentally scolded herself as she watched the child's excited face, waiting for her response.

"Erza," she said.

"E-Erza?" the little child uttered, tears brimming in her eyes.

"T-This is my name," Erza uttered once more while looking at the letters on the paper before hugging Irene.

Irene's tensed body soon relaxed, and she wrapped her arms around her trembling body. Erza cried in happiness hearing her name for the first time, and somehow, Irene felt happy. She knew it was weird, but somehow, she couldn't help but be happy about her. Erza released their hug and drew her name once more on the paper.

"Look, Lady Irene, this is my name. I'm Erza." She smiled with tears in her eyes, proud as she showed her paper.

A/N: Thank you for reading. I'll update you soon.