Hello

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Ruby Afza

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Rejoicing

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Blake's new skill and hobby.

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What if... Ai Hoshino never died?

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Scene: “A Quiet Gesture”

Mid-afternoon. The apartment is bathed in soft sunlight, the kind that makes everything feel still. Jerrod is on the couch, flipping through a book. Juri is in the kitchen, cutting vegetables for dinner. There’s a calm rhythm between them.

Juri (glancing up from the counter, watching him): "You good over there?" Jerrod (glances back): "Yeah, just reading. You?" Juri (pauses, then continues chopping): "Busy." There’s a slight smile on her face, but she doesn’t acknowledge it fully. She finishes up what she’s doing and moves quietly to the fridge. Jerrod doesn’t notice, too engrossed in his book. After a moment, she places a cold bottle of water on the table beside him, just out of his line of sight. He doesn’t hear her approach. It’s not an extravagant gesture, but it’s thoughtful. Jerrod (finally noticing, looks up): "What’s this?" Juri (shrugging without looking at him): "You’ve been reading a while. Figured you’d need it." Jerrod: "…Thanks." Juri (in a softer tone, still focused on the kitchen): "Don’t make it a big deal."

He picks up the bottle, unscrews the cap, and takes a long drink. He doesn’t say anything more. She doesn’t need him to. She keeps working, her movements casual. But Jerrod’s gaze lingers on her for a moment—his fingers still holding the bottle. He doesn’t know what it is, but something about the small act sticks with him. It’s a quiet kind of care, the kind that says you matter, but I don’t need to make a speech about it. Jerrod (after a beat, softly): "You don’t always have to hide it, you know." Juri (without turning): "Hide what?" Jerrod: "That you care." She pauses—but not out of discomfort. Just... considering. Then she glances back, gives him a small, almost smug half-smile. Her tone is light, but there’s no mockery. Juri: "Shut up. You know how I show it." He smirks, takes another sip of the water. Then, without saying anything else, he leans back against the couch, content.

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Scene: “Nothing to Prove”

Sunday. Quiet. Dim light in the room. No fighting. Just silence. Juri sits on the floor against the bed. Jerrod walks in from the hall.

He sees her sitting there. She doesn’t look up. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He just lowers himself beside her. No words. They sit there, backs resting against the same wall. A pause. Juri (without looking): "...You don’t get tired of this? Just sitting here with me, not doing anything?"

Jerrod: "No." Another pause. Juri (voice lower): "Some days I feel like I’m not built for this. Like something’s wired wrong." He glances at her. Doesn’t push. Jerrod (quietly): "You’ve never needed fixing."

She looks down at her hands, then back at him. Juri: "You’re not gonna give me some speech about healing and hope and all that?" Jerrod: "No."

Juri (leans her head back, closes her eyes): "...Good."

She shifts after a few seconds. Gently pulls his arm, guiding it around her without saying anything. He lets her. His hand settles lightly at her side.

They just sit like that.

Juri (after a while): "...I like this. I don’t need it all the time, but... right now, yeah." Jerrod: "Okay." Not soft. Not poetic. Just honest. His hand moves slightly, thumb brushing her sleeve. No lesson. No big moment. Just two people close—because they want to be, not because they need to prove something.

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Throuple Walk

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Marriage Pretense

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Scene: Schnee Manor Courtyard – Late Afternoon

Jaune Arc, dressed in cheap confidence, tries his usual charm routine as Weiss walks past the training yard. He smirks, flanked by two low-tier hangers-on.

Jaune (grinning):

> “Weiss, hey — me and a few friends were talking. Thought you might wanna join us upstairs. Real private.”

Weiss (without slowing):

> “Does your brain ever exit the gutter, or does it enjoy swimming there?”

Jaune (chuckling):

> “Feisty. That’s hot.”

Suddenly, Jaune stiffens. A cold presence stands behind him. He turns. It's Ryan Hardy — silent, arms crossed, unimpressed.

Ryan:

> “You speak to her like that again, and you'll be training with your jaw wired shut.”

Jaune (forcing a grin):

> “Relax, it’s a joke—”

Ryan (interrupting, voice low):

> “No one’s laughing.”

Weiss turns slightly, just enough to smirk. Jaune, suddenly aware of the silence around him, backs off. The hangers-on scatter.

Weiss (to Ryan):

> “Thank you.”

Ryan (shrugging):

> “Didn’t even draw my sword.”

---

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Relaxing

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Massage

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Motorcycle

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Father Daughter Walk

Daughter: “You know, people stare at us like we’re some odd pair.”

Father: (grins)

“That’s because we are. Grizzled old man in goggles, walking with a pink-haired hurricane.”

Daughter: (playfully bumps into him)

“Hey! I’m elegant, not a hurricane.”

Father: (chuckling)

“You knocked over three lanterns last week trying to pet a cat.”

Daughter: “It was a very fluffy cat. Worth it.”

(pause)

“…You still wear the goggles because of her, don’t you?”

Father: (nods, quietly)

“Red like her eyes. Kept me steady when I was lost. Now… they remind me I still have someone to walk beside.”

Daughter: “You mean me, right?” (grins)

Father: “Well, you and the ghost of my waistline.”

Daughter: (laughs, then softens)

“She chose you well. I’m glad you found me. I was… pretty cold back then.”

Father: (rests a hand on her head)

“You were just waiting for someone to see you. And I did. Just like she would’ve.”

Daughter: (quietly)

“And now you’ve got two loud, stubborn women in your heart, huh?”

Father: “I’m doomed, aren’t I?” (smiles)

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Milk and Cookie Date

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The Eyes Stay Crimson

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Amid the Ashes, Trust Stays