your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
Flora’s brows lift slightly, surprise flickering through seafoam eyes before softening into something more careful. At the mention of rejoining, she doesn’t interrupt—but the weight of it lingers, coiled in her silence like the edge of a tide waiting to break.
When Liam asks about Koa, she draws in a breath that’s more thoughtful than sharp, and finally nods, fingers brushing idly along the edge of her saucer. "Yeah," she murmurs. "He is." Her gaze flicks out the café window, where the sea glitters just beyond the rooftops, as if the answer might somehow be simpler out there. "My dad’s still technically a Dragoon—Ronin, I mean—but since folks like Anju disappeared, Koa’s been the one holding things together. Training recruits, managing assignments, making the hard calls. All of it."
There’s no bitterness in her tone, only the quiet acknowledgment of someone who’s watched too many people step away and one person try to fill all their shoes.
"He’s good at it," she adds, with a pause just long enough to suggest that being good at something doesn’t make it easy. 'But...yeah. He’s tired. And if you’re thinking about joining, I’m sure he’d be glad for the help. You’d be walking into something real." Her gaze shifts back to Liam, quieter now. "Something that matters, especially now."
When Liam asks about Koa, she draws in a breath that’s more thoughtful than sharp, and finally nods, fingers brushing idly along the edge of her saucer. "Yeah," she murmurs. "He is." Her gaze flicks out the café window, where the sea glitters just beyond the rooftops, as if the answer might somehow be simpler out there. "My dad’s still technically a Dragoon—Ronin, I mean—but since folks like Anju disappeared, Koa’s been the one holding things together. Training recruits, managing assignments, making the hard calls. All of it."
There’s no bitterness in her tone, only the quiet acknowledgment of someone who’s watched too many people step away and one person try to fill all their shoes.
"He’s good at it," she adds, with a pause just long enough to suggest that being good at something doesn’t make it easy. 'But...yeah. He’s tired. And if you’re thinking about joining, I’m sure he’d be glad for the help. You’d be walking into something real." Her gaze shifts back to Liam, quieter now. "Something that matters, especially now."
