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The trio's journey through the heart of Aishihara was filled with bickering, misunderstandings, and just enough danger to remind Kazuto that this wasn't some carefree fantasy. After the chaos of the Whispering Glade, they camped beneath a canopy of silver-leafed trees, the air thick with the floral scent of blooming Heartblooms.
Kazuto poked at the fire with a stick, still reeling from his poetic outburst in the glade. Haruto lounged nearby, plucking an aimless melody on his lute, while Reina sat apart, her back against a tree, fingers tracing the edges of her map.
It was the longest stretch of silence they'd managed since meeting Haruto — and Kazuto found it oddly unnerving.
"Something's off," Reina said, her eyes narrowing at the shadows beyond the firelight.
Haruto tilted his head. "You feel it too, huh? That itch under your skin?"
Kazuto felt nothing but mild embarrassment and the ever-present weight of the Charm of Miscommunication, but he wasn't about to argue. "What is it?"
Reina's hand went to her chest, fingers resting just above the faint glow of her Heartstone. "It's cold," she muttered.
That was new. Kazuto was used to Reina's Heartstone flickering with irritation — a sharp, crimson gleam whenever he accidentally complimented her or stumbled into a compromising position — but now it was pale, almost translucent, the kind of color that felt fragile. Vulnerable.
"She's close," Haruto said quietly.
Kazuto frowned. "Who?"
Haruto's usual grin was gone, replaced with an uncharacteristically serious expression. "The Queen of Silence."
Kazuto only knew bits and pieces — whispered legends from the king and snatches of gossip from villagers they'd passed. The Queen of Silence was a ghost story, a name mothers used to frighten children into confessing their first crushes before their Heartstones could crack.
But Reina's silence — the way her fingers trembled just slightly against her sword hilt — told him the queen was very, very real.
"She's hunting us?" Kazuto asked, voice lower than usual.
"She's hunting me," Reina corrected. "My Heartstone's already cracked."
Kazuto blinked. "Wait, what?"
Haruto sighed. "You didn't know?" He gave Reina a sidelong glance. "You really should have told your accidental fiancé."
"We are not—"
Kazuto cut off the argument before it could spiral. "What does a cracked Heartstone mean?"
Reina's jaw tightened, but after a moment, she spoke, her voice quieter than usual. "A Heartstone reflects love — your ability to feel it, accept it, give it. When a Heartstone cracks, it means a part of you doesn't believe in love anymore."
Kazuto's stomach turned. "What happened?"
Reina stared into the fire, her fingers curling into her cloak. "I was… engaged once."
Kazuto's brain short-circuited. "Wait, what?"
Haruto's Heartstone flickered, and the bard immediately blurted: "She stood at the altar, flowers in her hair, waiting. He never came."
Kazuto's heart twisted painfully in his chest. Even the Charm of Miscommunication stayed mercifully silent for once.
"Since then," Reina continued, voice steadier than Kazuto expected, "I've carried this crack. Most people can hide it, but the Queen of Silence—"
"She feeds on them," Haruto finished. "Broken Heartstones. Lost faith. Every crack weakens the whole kingdom's magic."
"And if she breaks enough Heartstones," Reina said, "she can erase love from Aishihara forever."
The campfire crackled in the silence that followed.
Kazuto glanced at Reina, at the proud warrior who hid so much behind her scowls and threats. He'd always assumed her temper was just part of her personality — but now, knowing what she'd survived, it felt different.
The way she kept him at arm's length, the way her Heartstone flickered nervously whenever he stumbled too close — it wasn't just annoyance. It was fear.
"You don't have to be afraid," Kazuto said softly. "Love doesn't have to be perfect. It's supposed to be messy."
Reina's fingers brushed her Heartstone, feeling its faint warmth beneath her glove. "You're the messiest thing that's ever happened to me."
"And yet," Haruto chimed in, "you haven't stabbed him yet. Progress."
Reina threw a pebble at Haruto's head.
But the truth hung between them, unspoken but understood. Reina was afraid of love — and Kazuto, despite himself, was starting to care too much.
—
The Queen of Silence didn't attack that night, but her presence followed them like a cold breath on the back of their necks.
The further they traveled, the more stories they heard — of villages where couples suddenly forgot their love, their Heartstones shattering into dust. Of lovers who once sang to each other across balconies, now strangers passing in the street.
They found the first village just before dusk. Heartstone shards littered the ground like broken glass, and the air hummed with silence — no laughter, no whispered confessions. Even the children were quiet, their eyes blank.
"She's getting stronger," Reina said, voice tight.
Kazuto knelt, picking up a fragment. It was still warm, faintly pink. "Can we fix them?"
"No," Haruto said. "Once a Heartstone shatters, it's over."
"Unless," Reina added quietly, "the person finds a new reason to believe in love."
Kazuto looked around the empty village, the silence heavy on his chest. "Then we find her. And we stop her."
Haruto's brow lifted. "You say that like you've got a plan."
Kazuto didn't. But for the first time since arriving in Aishihara, he knew exactly what he was fighting for.
—
They found the Queen of Silence at dusk, standing atop a field of fallen Heartstones. She was beautiful — in the way ice is beautiful, sharp and untouchable. Her gown shimmered like liquid silver, her long hair the color of dying embers. Her Heartstone — or what was left of it — hung around her neck, cracked almost to the core.
"Princess Reina," the queen's voice was soft, but it echoed through the clearing. "Your time has come."
Reina stepped forward, sword raised. "You'll have to break me first."
The queen smiled, sad and knowing. "You're already broken."
Kazuto stepped beside Reina before he could think better of it. "She's not broken," he said. "She's still here."
The Charm of Miscommunication stirred, but this time, Kazuto didn't fight it.
"She's fierce and stubborn and terrifying, but she still believes in love — even if it scares her."
Reina's Heartstone flickered — faint, but warmer.
The queen's gaze turned to Kazuto, and for the first time, there was something like curiosity in her eyes. "And you, accidental hero. Do you believe in love?"
Kazuto swallowed hard. "I—"
The Charm took over, his voice ringing out across the clearing.
"I believe love is awkward and embarrassing and full of misunderstandings — but that's what makes it real. That's what makes it worth it."
The air rippled. The shards at their feet trembled. Reina's Heartstone pulsed brighter.
The Queen of Silence flinched, her fingers curling against her chest. For the first time, Kazuto saw it — beneath her cold exterior, the flicker of pain. Of heartbreak never healed.
"You've lost someone," Kazuto said, quieter. "Haven't you?"
The queen's smile faltered. "I lost myself."
Reina's voice softened. "Then let us help you find her."
For a moment, the queen's mask cracked. Her Heartstone glimmered — not with malice, but with longing. And for the first time, the silence lifted, replaced by the soft sound of a heartbeat.
Her own.
The queen turned, her form dissolving into mist. "Find me, if you can," she whispered. "Before the silence takes you too."
And she was gone.
—
The silence lifted from the village as the broken Heartstones shimmered faintly, not fully healed — but not fully gone.
"She's still out there," Reina said.
Kazuto nodded. "Then we'll find her."
Haruto slung his lute over his shoulder, grinning. "Messiest love story ever. I love it."
Reina's fingers brushed her Heartstone, its crack still there — but smaller. Stronger.
Kazuto didn't know if they could save the queen.
But he knew one thing: they wouldn't lose each other.
Not to silence.
Not to fear.
Not to anything.
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