-

The world outside the opera house was restless, Fontaine's people working tirelessly to rebuild what was lost. Yet inside, where the echoes of past performances still lingered, the atmosphere between Furina and Yoshika remained still, almost fragile.

Furina hadn't moved from Yoshika's shoulder, and Yoshika-despite every instinct in her body-hadn't pushed her away.

"You're warm," Furina murmured.

Yoshika blinked. "Is that supposed to be a surprise?"

Furina hummed, her voice barely above a whisper. "A little. You always seem so distant. Cold, even. But you're warm."

Yoshika tensed slightly. She wasn't sure how to respond to that.

Furina's presence felt light against her, but the weight of her words pressed deep into Yoshika's mind. She could feel her heartbeat steady but strong, a quiet rhythm in the silence between them.

For someone so loud, so dramatic, Furina had a way of making the quiet moments feel heavier than any battle Yoshika had ever fought.

"...You should rest," Yoshika finally said, shifting slightly. "You're exhausted."

Furina sighed, finally pulling away, though her expression softened. "And what about you?"

"I'm fine."

Furina scoffed. "Liar."

Yoshika rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she turned away, walking toward the center of the stage where the moonlight filtered through the grand windows. Her fingers traced the edges of her spear, her reflection faintly visible in the polished surface.

"Yoshika," Furina called.

Yoshika turned just as Furina stepped forward, stopping just in front of her. The former god's blue eyes gleamed under the dim light, searching hers for something unspoken.

"Why did you really stay?" Furina asked, her voice quieter this time.

Yoshika exhaled slowly. "I already told you."

"You told me the excuse," Furina corrected. "Not the truth."

Yoshika's grip on her spear tightened.

Furina had always been perceptive in ways that were both irritating and disarming.

"...Would it change anything?" Yoshika muttered.

Furina blinked. "What?"

"If I told you," Yoshika said, her voice quieter now, "would it change anything?"

Furina didn't respond right away.

She simply looked at Yoshika-really looked at her.

At the way her fingers twitched slightly, the way her posture was tense yet unwilling to move away, the way her breath hitched just slightly before settling into an almost forced calm.

And Furina understood.

Her own fingers curled slightly, resisting the urge to reach for Yoshika's hand.

"...No," Furina admitted, a faint smile playing at her lips. "It wouldn't change anything."

The words settled between them, a quiet acceptance of what they both knew but couldn't yet say.

Yoshika smiled, though there was something softer in her expression now. "Then there's no point in answering."

Furina chuckled, shaking her head. "You're insufferable."

"You like it."

"...Unfortunately."

A brief silence stretched between them, neither daring to move. But there was no tension-only an understanding neither of them needed to voice.

For now, words could remain unspoken.

Because in the stillness of the opera house, in the quiet acknowledgment of everything they felt but refused to say-they both knew.

---
𝖠𝖭 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐