Katsuki sat hunched over by the fire, his usual scowl deepening as his gaze lingered on Rosie across the flames. She was seated comfortably on her bedroll, legs crossed as she played her flute, a soft melody drifting through the stillness of the night. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on her face, illuminating her delicate features, her ears twitching every now and then in a way that he couldn't quite ignore.
Her pointed ears fascinated him, though he'd never admit it. Every few seconds, they'd twitch subtly, responding to something—her emotions, maybe? Katsuki knew little about elves; they were a mysterious race, ancient and aloof, rarely seen outside their sacred realms. Whatever information there was on them came from old stories or rumors. He'd never been close to one before, and watching Rosie was a strange reminder of how little he understood about her kind.
"Is there a reason you're staring at me?" Rosie's voice broke through his thoughts, her head tilted slightly, her eyes catching his through the crackling flames. Her tone was teasing, though there was genuine curiosity in her gaze.
Katsuki grunted, looking away as if the question had annoyed him, though in truth, he wasn't sure how to answer. His red eyes shifted toward the fire, the heat of the flames warming his face. "Why the hell are your ears twitching like that?" he muttered.
Rosie blinked in surprise, and then her face flushed, the pink deepening along her pale cheeks. "Oh," she began, a bit embarrassed. "It's how we express emotions. When I'm happy or relaxed… well, they twitch. It's something we elves do."
Katsuki raised a brow, his expression unchanged but his curiosity piqued.So it's her emotions,he thought, trying to ignore the odd warmth spreading in his chest.
He grunted again, not offering any further response. His gaze returned to the fire, watching the flames crackle and snap as they ate away at the wood. The fire reminded him of his own powers, the heat familiar but always dangerous, threatening to consume everything if he wasn't careful.
"We should get some sleep," he said abruptly, his voice gruff as he shifted to grab his bedroll. His body was sore from the long day of riding, and his muscles ached with exhaustion, though he'd never admit it aloud.
Rosie nodded in agreement, her expression softening. She carefully set her flute down beside her and reached for her own bedroll, her movements graceful and unhurried. "I suppose you're right," she hummed as she settled in, wrapping herself in the soft fabric with a content sigh. Her ears twitched once more, and she glanced at Katsuki with a gentle smile before closing her eyes.
Katsuki watched her for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on the peaceful expression on her face. It annoyed him, how at ease she was with him despite his constant irritability. But there was something about Rosie that made it hard to stay irritated for long.
With a frustrated huff, he threw himself down onto his own bedroll, staring up at the starry sky above them. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of the leaves in the trees and the soft crackling of the fire. His mind wandered briefly to the mission ahead—the sorcerer, the sacrifices, the danger—but exhaustion soon crept in, pulling him toward sleep.
Just before his eyes closed, he caught a glimpse of Rosie, now fast asleep, her ears finally still, her breathing steady and calm.
"Stupid elf," he muttered to himself, though there was no real bite to his words. With that, Katsuki closed his eyes, letting the weight of sleep overtake him.
Katsuki had grown accustomed to Rosie's incessant humming during their travels, her voice filling the silence of the forest as their horses trotted beneath the canopy of trees. It was irritating at first, but eventually, the sound blended into the background—until that peace was shattered by a scream, sharp and shrill, piercing through the woods like a blade.
Rosie was on her feet before Katsuki could even process what had happened. She dropped her bowl of food, grabbed her bow with a fluid motion, and bolted in the direction of the scream, her legs carrying her swiftly and silently through the trees.
"Damn that meddling elf," Katsuki growled under his breath, cursing her impulsiveness. He tossed his own bowl aside and ran after her, the forest blurring as he pushed himself to keep up. For all her delicate appearance, Rosie was fast. Her light footsteps barely made a sound on the forest floor as her pink hair streamed behind her like a banner.
Within moments, they burst into a clearing, and Katsuki's eyes narrowed at the sight before them.
A small group of travelers had been attacked. Their wagon was overturned, its contents scattered across the ground. A woman, pale with terror, was frantically trying to shield her two children from a horde of snarling goblins. The smallest child, no more than five, had already been seized by one of the creatures. The goblin mounted a horse and took off, the little girl screaming and flailing in its grasp as her mother's cries of desperation echoed through the trees.
Rosie didn't hesitate, her sharp eyes locking onto the goblin on horseback. Without a word, she notched an arrow and sprinted after them, her movements swift and sure as she disappeared into the woods.
Katsuki, however, focused on the goblins still terrorizing the mother and her remaining children. His blood boiled, and he felt the familiar heat building in his palms. He clenched his fists tightly, letting the fire rise within him. His irritation had now flared into anger, and these goblins were about to pay the price.
The first goblin lunged toward the mother, its jagged knife raised high. Katsuki growled low in his throat, and with a flash of his hand, he unleashed a powerful explosion. A burst of fiery energy blasted the creature off its feet, sending it crashing into a nearby tree. The goblin let out a pained screech before it crumpled into a lifeless heap on the ground.
The other goblins froze momentarily, glancing at their fallen comrade before turning their hateful eyes toward Katsuki. But they were too late. With a roar, he ignited his palms, flames licking up his arms as he charged toward them.
"Get away from them!" he bellowed, his voice a deep snarl as he released a blast of fire. The ground beneath him scorched as he sent a fiery explosion toward two goblins, their bodies engulfed in the searing heat. They shrieked in agony, their twisted forms collapsing into smoldering ash.
The mother clutched her children tightly, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe as she watched the display of power. Katsuki's presence was terrifying, but he was their savior at this moment.
Only one goblin remained, circling the wagon with wild eyes, its filthy blade clutched tightly in its clawed hand. Katsuki turned to face it, his body crackling with barely contained energy.
The goblin, realizing it was outmatched, let out a high-pitched wail and charged recklessly at him. But Katsuki was faster. He swung his arm, and with a flick of his wrist, a concentrated blast of fire hit the creature square in the chest, knocking it backward with a forceful explosion. The goblin's body disintegrated into ash before it hit the ground.
Panting slightly, Katsuki let the flames die down, the heat dissipating from his hands. The clearing was silent now, save for the soft sobbing of the woman, who held her children close. He spared them a glance before turning his attention to the woods where Rosie had vanished.
He cursed under his breath again.
Rosie had run after the goblin who had taken the little girl, and now she was out of sight. He didn't want to leave her alone, but she was capable—he'd seen that much. Still, the nagging thought of her safety gnawed at him.
Just then, he heard the sharptwangof a bowstring in the distance, followed by a guttural screech. A moment later, Rosie emerged from the trees, the little girl cradled safely in her arms. Her pink hair was windswept, and her breathing was ragged, but she was unharmed.
The goblin that had stolen the girl lay dead a few feet behind her, an arrow buried deep in its throat.
"I got her," Rosie called out, her voice soft but steady. The girl clung to her, sobbing quietly into her shoulder. "She's safe."
Katsuki walked over, the mother gasping as she saw her daughter alive and well. Rosie gently handed the girl over, and the family was reunited, their tearful thanks barely registering in Katsuki's mind. He was too busy watching Rosie, her calm composure as she stood there, unflinching, despite the chaos they had just faced.
For a moment, he considered saying something, but instead, he simply grunted, "You're lucky I was here."
Rosie gave him a tired smile, her ears twitching slightly. "I'd say the same to you, Katsuki."
He scowled, though this time, the edge was softer. "Tch. Let's get going."
He ignored her giggling as she waved goodbye to the mother and her children, before she followed him through the woods back to their camp.