Chapter Text
Fluixon POV :
Its start from that day, when we meet each other again in snow.
When I see your face, something inside me started burning.
I want to greet you,
I want to talk with you again like before,
I want to hold your hand again…
U still have that smile on ur face, but u don’t seem recognize me like I do.
So I stop myself.
I don’t know I should bother you again or not this time.
And just like that, the time goes by.
The snow island was big, but we spend life in small village.
I spend day hide from you, I don’t even know why I do that.
I always said to myself that I do not have any guilty again you.
But this feeling.. was to much to hide by me.
But it seems like my world revolve around you. Even when I do my job like usual, when I fishing by the dock, it’s always you that appear again.
One day, while I was fishing, I heard your voice. “Hey, do you know where the market is?” you asked, looking around like a lost kid.
The market was literally right in front of us.
You said it with that innocent look the same one I used to fall for.
Liar, I thought. But I didn’t say it. Why he do that? Why pretend? I look away. “The market’s right there,” I said, pretending to keep fishing.
I try to sound like someone who doesn’t know him before.
Like just another villager helping another stranger.
My hand go back to my fishing line, pretending focus.
You stand there for a bit, quiet. Then you said, “Oh, I see. Erm… can you maybe take me to the fish section? You’re a fisherman, right? I need a special kind of fish. Uh… Tuna! Yes, tuna!”
You stuttered a little, your tone half nervous half joking, like you don’t even know what you saying.
I sighed. “The tuna section is literally the first one you see when you enter the market.”
I rolled my eyes, thinking maybe he just wanted to flirt like the other before, ask me to help them and boom!.
He turned red. I sighed again, but this time it felt more like laughter stuck in my throat.
“u really not gonna help me?” you ask, half whining.
“you got legs, don’t you?” I said, trying to tease, but my voice came out softer than I expect.
You look down for a moment, rubbing your glove together. Then you said quietly, “I just… don’t know the way. It’s cold, and crowded. Can you please?”
That tone it sound too much like before. The way you ask things like I would never say no to you.
I sigh again, this time not because I’m annoyed but because I already know I’ll say yes. “Fine,” I said, standing up. “I’ll show you the way.”
His eyes lit up immediately. “You’re really kind!” he said, hurrying to match my steps.
I looked away so you wouldn’t see me smile.
You keep talking, mostly small things how the snow here feels softer than the north island, how the market smell funny, how you still can’t eat dried fish.
I just hum, answering short. But inside, I remember all the times you said the same thing before. Like this is all just repeating.
You looked around like it was the first time seeing it, your eyes bright like you’d never lived through wars and betrayal.
Maybe this was how you survived by pretending it was all new.
When we reached the fish section, I handed you a wrapped piece of tuna. “Here,” I said. “Best one in the batch.”
You smiled. “Thanks! You really know your fish.”
I shrugged, trying to act casual. “Yeah, something like that.”
You didn’t leave. You just stood there, your hands in your pockets, watching me.
“So…” you said, “you live around here?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s nice. I’m staying near the hill. Maybe you could teach me fishing sometime?”
I almost laughed. Teach you? You used to mock my fishing every single time.
“Sure,” I said anyway. “I can do that.”
Your grin widened. “Promise?”
“Promise,” I said.
And I swear, for the first time in a long while, the snow didn’t feel so cold.
Days passed.
You kept showing up.
Sometimes helping me clean nets, sometimes bringing food. Sometimes just sitting beside me doing nothing at all.
We talked about everything except the one thing that mattered, the past. And I almost believed maybe we didn’t need to.
You were different now. Softer, calmer.
Or maybe I was the one who changed, too tired to keep hating, too lonely to keep running.
Everytime you smile, I feel guilty again.
Because in my eyes, you’re still standing in that colosseum, surrounded by light and screams and blood. And me, the fool who made everyone believe you were the villain.
I wish I could forget like you. But maybe you did forget.
The next morning, I go fishing again like usual.
The sea look calm, but it’s that kind of calm that make u nervous.
I sit at the pier, just waiting, hands cold, mind empty.
Until I see u again.
You sit not far from me, on the other side of the dock.
Your coat too thin for this weather, your hands holding something that glow softly in the snow.
At first I think it’s torch. But then I see it clearer.
It’s a lava bucket.
My chest suddenly tight. My body freeze before my mind can even think.
No, not that. Not again.
You turn your head, noticing me standing behind.
“Oh, hey,” you said, smiling like always, like nothing happen. “You done fishing already?”
I stare at the bucket. “Where did you get that?”
You blink, then look down to the lava like you just realize it’s glowing. “This? I found it near the old dock storage,” you say, tilting it a bit. “Kinda warm, good for hands, right?”
“Put it down,” I say. My voice sound more sharp than I want.
You laugh nervously. “Why? You act like it’s gonna bite me.”
“It’s dangerous,” I said again. “That thing… you shouldn’t even hold it.”
You tilted your head. “You said that before.”
My breath caught. “What did you say?”
You smiled faintly, not pretending anymore. “You really showed up, didn’t you?”
The words hit me like a wave. The same words. From the colosseum.
Back then, when everyone screamed for blood, and we stood across from each other the traitor and the betrayed.
I heard my own voice from the past escape my mouth now: “Can’t say no to a friend, can I?”
You laughed quietly, a little broken. “You remember.”
“How could I forget?”
For a moment, everything around us went silent only snow falling, only the sound of the sea.
“I kept it,” you said, looking at the lava again. “After that day. After you died. Everyone hated you, but I didn’t. I built your grave. I thought maybe… if I buried the fire, I could bury the guilt too.”
My throat felt tight. “Then why bring it back?”
“Because pretending doesn’t work anymore,” you said simply. “I remember everything, Flux. All of it. The colosseum, the blood, the tower, your face. I just… didn’t want to lose you again or lose myself….”
The past wasn’t something we could erase. But maybe we could forgive it.
You glance at me, eyes soft but tired. “Then what now?”
I step closer until the heat from the lava almost touch my hand. “You should’ve thrown it away,” I whisper.
You smile faintly. “I tried. But I think part of me just wanted you to see it again.”
Silence fall between us. Only snow, only wind.
Then you said, “Let’s end it for real this time.”
You hold the bucket out, your hand shaking slightly.
I take it from you it’s warm, almost alive, like a heart that’s been burning for too long.
Together, we walk to the edge of the pier. The sea below us dark and quiet. We look at each other one last time, then tilt the bucket.
The lava falls into the water, hissing, screaming, disappearing into steam.
It’s gone.
Just like that.
You exhale slowly. “It’s finally over.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”
You look up, snow landing softly in your hair.
“Then maybe…” you start, voice unsure but soft, “we can start something new this time. Not fighting, not war. Maybe something peaceful.”
“Like what?” I ask, half curious, half afraid of the hope in your tone.
You grin a little. “Maybe a restaurant. I can cook, you fish. That sound nice, right?”
I stare at you, this time can’t stop the small smile that appear. “A restaurant, huh.”
“Yeah,” you said proudly, eyes shining. “Somewhere warm. Somewhere people can eat and laugh. I think I like that idea.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Then maybe we make an inn too. People eat, rest, stay. You know a full thing.”
You laugh, a real laugh this time. “An inn? That’s so like you.”
“What? it’s good idea,” I say, pretending to sound serious. “You do the cooking, I handle the guests.”
“Deal,” you said, still smiling.
The sound of the sea mix with your laughter, soft and echoing under the snow sky.
For a second, I almost believe this world is kind again.
We stand there a bit longer, just breathing, just existing.
The pier still warm from the lava we throw away, but the air feel lighter, cleaner.
When you turn to leave, you said quietly, “This time, let’s build something that doesn’t burn.”
I look at you, my heart weirdly calm. “Yeah,” I whisper back. “Something that stays.”
You smile one last time before walking away, your footprints fading in snow.
And I stay there, watching the sea turn gray, thinking maybe just maybe this time we could really start over.