Chapter 17: A Quiet Moment & Jealous Glances
Noah & Lumine's Room - Evening
The night at the inn was quiet. Soft moonlight filtered through the window, casting a pale glow across the room. Noah sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the day's events still pressing on his mind. He had been so caught up in everything—the nations they'd visited, the people they'd met, the dangers they faced—that he hadn't really stopped to think about himself, about his feelings.
Lumine, sitting across from him, fidgeted with her hands. She had been quiet for a while, and Noah could feel the tension in the air. It wasn't the same as earlier. She wasn't just a stranger, a new ally. There was something deeper now.
"Hey, Lumine," Noah broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. "I've been thinking… about everything that's happened, about why we're here."
Lumine looked up at him, her bright eyes reflecting the dim light of the room. She gave a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's been a lot, hasn't it? The countries we've visited, the people we've met… the things we've had to face. It's hard to even know where to start."
Noah nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's strange. I never imagined I'd be this far from home, in places I can't even name. I've always followed my instincts, followed what felt like my path. But this journey…" He paused, trying to find the right words. "This feels different. Like there's more I'm supposed to understand."
Lumine tilted her head, her gaze softening. "Do you ever wonder if it's all connected somehow? Like the places we've visited, the people we've met, maybe they're all part of something bigger, something we don't quite understand yet?"
Noah met her gaze. He didn't answer immediately, instead letting the question hang in the air. He wasn't sure if she was talking about the Astral Express, or if she meant something more. But something about the way she said it felt like she was reaching out, just as he was.
"Sometimes," Noah murmured. "I think this path, this journey, brought me here for a reason, but I don't know what it is yet. And maybe… maybe that's okay. We'll figure it out together, right?"
Lumine's eyes widened slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Together," she repeated softly. "Yeah, I think we will."
There was a quiet pause between them, the weight of unspoken words filling the space. Lumine glanced down at her hands, the delicate glow of the light from the window catching the edges of her golden hair. Noah could sense the vulnerability in her, the quiet longing she tried so hard to hide.
"You know," she said after a beat, her voice a little softer now, "I don't really talk about it much. About what happened before all of this. The things I've lost. It's not easy, carrying that. But… being here, with you and the others, I feel like I can breathe a little more. Like maybe there's hope again."
Noah's expression softened. "You don't have to carry that alone. Whatever it is, we'll help you. I think… maybe we all need each other more than we let on."
Lumine looked up at him again, her eyes bright with a mixture of gratitude and something else, something deeper. "Thank you, Noah. I mean it."
Noah smiled, though it was faint. "Anytime. You're not alone in this."
He wanted to say more—something comforting, maybe even personal—but the words caught behind the walls he'd built over time. Instead, he let the silence stretch gently, trusting that presence could sometimes speak louder than any vow.
Lumine glanced at him again, and for a heartbeat, she swore she saw something flicker behind his calm. She didn't press it. For now, this moment of stillness was enough. They were here. Together.
Even after Noah drifted into a light sleep, Lumine lay still for a few moments longer. The room was quiet save for the rise and fall of his breathing, steady and unhurried. She watched the faint moonlight paint soft streaks across the ceiling and let herself breathe. For the first time in a long while, the silence didn't ache—it simply rested beside her.
Morning - Inn Dining Room
The morning sun spilled through the windows of the inn's dining room, casting a warm glow over the small table where the group gathered for breakfast. The scent of freshly baked bread and hearty stew filled the air, but there was something different about the atmosphere today.
Elysia and Kiana exchanged glances over their bowls, their eyes flicking toward Noah and Lumine, who were sitting across from one another. It wasn't obvious at first, but the way Lumine and Noah were sitting a little closer, the soft smiles they exchanged, didn't go unnoticed.
Elysia raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. Kiana's eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms, her gaze lingering on Noah.
"So," Kiana began, breaking the silence with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I couldn't help but notice you two seem a little... closer today."
Elysia leaned in, her voice teasing. "Yeah, what happened? Did something happen last night, or are you just getting more comfortable with each other?"
Noah, who had been halfway through his breakfast, choked on his food and immediately started coughing. "W-what? No, it's not—"
Lumine, who had been blissfully unaware of the direction of the conversation, flushed bright red. She quickly lowered her head, her golden hair falling over her face. "We just talked," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Kiana's grin widened. "Oh, just talked? Is that all?" She leaned back in her chair, her eyes flickering toward Elysia, who was clearly enjoying the spectacle.
Noah awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, laughing nervously. "It's not like that, guys. We just had a conversation, that's all."
Lumine's blush deepened, but she still managed to meet Kiana's eyes with a slight, almost mischievous smile. "Yes, we did. Just a conversation," she said softly, though her smile didn't quite fade.
Elysia watched the two of them for a moment longer, then leaned back, her grin widening. "Well, looks like someone's got a victory in her eyes."
Noah's face turned even redder. "It's really not like that!" he protested, trying to change the subject. "Anyway, after breakfast, we should head to Inazuma City, report to the Adventurer's Guild, and see about any commissions. We've got a lot to do today."
Kiana and Elysia exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced by his attempt at deflection. Kiana laughed a little, but there was a strange tightness to it. Her fingers curled around her spoon, tapping it idly against the rim of her bowl. Elysia's smile dimmed slightly, her eyes following the way Noah's gaze lingered on Lumine for just a second too long.
Still, they didn't press the issue. Instead, Elysia smiled sweetly, though it was tinged with a hint of jealousy. She watched Noah rise to refill Lumine's tea cup without a second thought, then return to his seat with that same calm, unreadable face.
Earlier that morning, she'd seen him awake before any of them—quietly checking the map near the window, eyes shadowed in thought, his posture heavier than usual. Even then, he had set aside a cup of tea on the tray, letting it steep without a word. Elysia had leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him from afar with a knowing smile.
"Thoughtful and oblivious," she had whispered to herself. "Classic Noah."
Now, as she saw that same absentminded care play out again with Lumine, she couldn't help the flutter in her chest. It was admiration. It was envy. And something in between.
"Sounds like a plan, Noah," Elysia said aloud, her voice breezy. "Lead the way."
Lumine, still a little flustered but smiling softly, nodded. Her golden eyes flicked toward Noah again, catching the quiet steadiness in his expression.
"That sounds good," she said gently. "As long as we move forward… together."
Noah breathed a quiet sigh of relief, though he couldn't help but feel the lingering warmth of the teasing glances from Kiana and Elysia. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice wondered why everyone kept giving him these strange looks lately. But he chalked it up to post-mission stress and the Alden™ Obliviousness kept him firmly on the path of denial. They were right, after all. There was something different now, something deeper. But as long as they stuck together, maybe that was all that mattered.