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TMHLBQ_ARCHIVE_INTERMISSION CHAPTER And a Vow Is Made

 



INTERMISSION CHAPTER 15
And a Vow Is Made

“…Well, I had her, didn’t I?”

Thinking back on the past couple of days, Stayle let out a quiet breath. Arthur scoffed at him.

“So? You’re not pissed off anymore?” (Arthur)

He raised just his head from the bed to glance over at Stayle. The question cut to the core so quickly that it startled him a little—but maybe Arthur really had been worried in his own way.

“…Not really.” (Stayle)

Stayle closed his eyes and gave a small smile—

—

—only for a pillow to slam into his face.

—

“Gah—” A dumb noise escaped him as he grabbed the pillow now embedded in his face with both hands.

“I told you that fake-ass smile doesn’t work on me, damn it‼︎”

…Right. That was the thing. Fake smiles didn’t work on Arthur.

It had been a while since he’d yelled like this, though. Ever since two years ago, if Stayle ever smiled insincerely outside of public or formal settings, Arthur would snap at him.

And every time, he’d say the same thing:

“If you’ve got something to say—say it‼︎”

In moments like these, Arthur could be more troublesome than even Gilbert.

Stayle stuffed his crooked glasses into his shirt and glared. Arthur, of course, was completely unfazed and came at him even harder.

“You’re pissed, right?! At that bastard who trampled on all the hard work you and Pryde-sama did‼︎”

The anger that had subsided after being hugged and comforted by Pryde came boiling up again.

“Tch—yeah! I’m pissed off‼︎”

He hurled the pillow back at Arthur, who casually caught it with reflexes honed by constant training. Damn him.

“What the hell is with that guy anyway?! Always making snide comments to Pryde with that smug face! Even when I clapped back, he’d just brush it off! He’s great at his job, smarter than me, stronger than me—what the hell‼︎”

His words spilled out in a jumbled mess. When the pillow missed, he grabbed Arthur’s folded clothes and started chucking them instead. There was no way he could let Pryde or Tiara see him like this.

Arthur shouted, “Hey! Those are mine!” and threw the clothes and pillow right back at him.

“That tall, sharp-eyed bastard is even that strong?!”

“Hell yeah he is‼︎”

Bam. Whap. Thud. The room exploded with noise. If this weren’t a corner room with an empty one next door, someone would’ve already come to yell at them.

“He’s got the brains, the skills, all of it! Unlike me‼︎”

He hurled the pillow down at Arthur’s feet. As Stayle stood panting, Arthur stopped tossing things too.

“…Maybe… someone like me couldn’t really protect her…”

The words slipped out as he looked down.

Arthur frowned. “Huh?”

Clicking his tongue, Stayle raised his head with a sudden burst of emotion.

—

“I… I might not have been able to protect her‼︎”

—

Healers existed. If those black market scum had known about Arthur’s ability—and asked for Pryde in exchange…

The thought terrified him.

“Gilbert… he was strong. He beat them all… without even using a sword…”

Stayle knew—he wouldn’t have stood a chance on his own.

Even when he’d saved Gilbert, it was only because Pryde had been there, and they’d taken the enemy by surprise. Without that, he would’ve lost.

And Gilbert… had taken them down alone.

“If at that moment he had turned his blade directly on Pryde then… I…”

He would’ve been powerless to stop it.

Even though he hadn’t cried in front of Pryde, just saying it aloud made the tears come. Arthur didn’t say a word—he just watched quietly.

Embarrassed to be seen like this, Stayle wiped his eyes with his sleeve, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“I… I couldn’t beat him. After everything I’ve done… Even now… Even today, I couldn’t protect her—”

—

Whump.

—

A pillow smacked him in the face again.

Arthur had kicked it up toward him with hardly any effort.

He caught it as it slid off his head—wet with tears—and glared at Arthur with red-rimmed eyes.

“Don’t be a dumbass‼︎ ‘Couldn’t protect her’ my ass‼︎”

Arthur’s eyes were locked onto him even before the glare.

“You’ve been protecting Pryde-sama—way longer than I have‼︎”

He shouted like he was picking a fight—but the words meant the opposite.

“When I was a kid, everyone in the city talked bad about her. But now? When I go home or down to the streets, I barely hear a word. That’s because of you, right?”

Stayle was speechless.

“Tell me—who was it? Who was it that stopped that sharp-eyed bastard every time he tried to get close to Pryde-sama? Who was it that always stood beside her? Who spread the truth about who she really is? Who made sure no one could badmouth her?”

Arthur rose from the bed and slowly walked toward him. There was more fire in his eyes than even Stayle’s.

—

“It was all you, wasn’t it‼︎”

—

Stayle was frozen, trembling as his eyes welled up again.

“You couldn’t protect her in a fight? Of course not! You think one person can protect her from everything on their own?!”

Arthur’s words silenced him. He hadn’t expected to be called out like this by someone who had trained by his side.

But then Arthur said something that shattered the rest of his defenses.

—

“That’s what I’m here for‼︎”

—

He slammed his fist against his chest. The deep thud echoed in Stayle’s ears like a heartbeat.

“Remember what I said when I got into the Knight Order?”

‘So, you satisfied now, Stayle?!’

Arthur had shouted that the moment they met after he passed the test.

Even without asking, Stayle had understood what he meant.

“You told me two years ago—‘hurry up and become a knight.’ And I asked why.”

Arthur leaned in like he’d punch him if he didn’t answer.

Of course he remembered.

He wanted Arthur to become a knight quickly. When he became a recruit, when he joined the main unit, Stayle had truly been happy.

Because—

‘I’ll be her shield against power and politics. And Arthur… I want you to be the sword—to cut down anyone who threatens her.’

Yes. He’d said that.

He wanted Arthur to become her sword.

When Arthur saw his eyes widen, he clicked his tongue and stepped back.

“Don’t whine like that. You’ve been playing your role as her shield just fine.”

His role. Just hearing that felt like a weight lifted.

Stayle was so stunned that he didn’t react as Arthur held out a hand.

“Promise me.”

With a furrowed brow, Arthur continued.

“From now on—no matter what—if Pryde-sama moves, call me. Every time. Got it?”

Only you, who’s always by her side, can promise me that—his gaze was firm.

And the moment Stayle took his hand, Arthur said clearly:

“I’ll protect Pryde-sama, you, Tiara—all of you, together.”

He gripped back hard. And to Stayle’s frustration… it made him feel safe.

He was grateful. That Arthur had remembered those words from two years ago.

That he’d met him back then.

Just as he opened his mouth to say thank you—Arthur suddenly grabbed his head from both sides.

—

“You little brat‼︎ You’ve got brains and a sword arm! You’re being way too greedy‼︎ You think a twelve-year-old kid could take on all those black market thugs and win?! You’re making me look bad‼︎”

—

Stayle groaned in protest as Arthur squished his head.

“It’s not just you! You and Pryde-sama are both plenty strong, okay?! There’s not a single other kid your age who could take you down‼︎ You act like you’re weak, but I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve made me struggle in practice! Go apologize to me and every new recruit I beat in training a hundred times‼︎”

Now he was grinding his knuckles into Stayle’s temple.

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop, you idiot‼︎” he yelled, slapping Arthur’s hands away.

Arthur clicked his tongue but started picking up the clothes and pillows scattered around the room.

The place was originally spotless. Looking around, Stayle realized they’d made a real mess and felt a little guilty. He started folding the clothes nearby.

“…Want me to have a maid rewash these?”

“Don’t waste royal labor on my stuff,” Arthur grumbled. “They’re not even dirty.”

That was so like him, Stayle thought.

“…You really are mature.”

He meant it.

Arthur, three years older, was taller, broader, and even more solid now that he’d become a knight. And he always noticed when Stayle was overwhelmed… and he's always there to helped.

Stayle wondered if he could be like that in three years. But it hurt too much to say out loud.

“Three years ago, you were way more mature than I was.”

Stayle blinked. “Was that humility?”

Arthur just sighed long and loud.

“…You know damn well I was a whiny mess at your age.”

He turned away, cheeks flushed, straightening out a shirt.

“So… crying makes you immature?”

The question was a tease. Arthur scratched his head, flustered.

Stayle suddenly remembered when Gilbert had aged him up. His body had been strong, capable—like a grown man. Big enough to hold Pryde close and stand eye-to-eye with Gilbert.

Maybe that’s what adulthood meant.

“…I’ve decided.”

While Arthur was still thinking of a reply, Stayle muttered to himself. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“I won’t cry anymore.”

Not to be comforted—he wanted to be the one reaching out to others.

“For good?” Arthur asked, surprised.

“Until I look like I did when Gilbert aged me. I think that was about five years older.”

He stood up. Arthur’s reply caught him off guard.

“…Then I’ll do it too.”

“…Huh?”

“What, five years, right? No way I’m letting you do it alone. It’s the perfect way to settle things.”

He started putting away the last of the folded clothes.

“Wait, Arthur. This is my decision. It doesn’t involve you. Besides—what exactly are you settling?”

Putting his glasses back on, Stayle stared at him. Arthur crossed his arms and looked at him dead-on.

“I’ve been showing you and Pryde-sama way too many pathetic sides of myself since two years ago. I’m done with that.”

Even if you don’t want to, I’m doing it—he insisted.

Stayle rubbed his temples. Maybe Arthur wasn’t so mature after all.

Then again… maybe part of it was for him.

“We’ll get stronger. Together.”

Those words hit deep.

Arthur was stronger than him—in both sword and spirit.

“…Yeah.”

Stayle picked up the pillow—

—

—and teleported it above Arthur’s head.

—

With perfect timing, the pillow dropped squarely onto Arthur’s face.

“Gwah—!”

Stayle grinned.

“But today, I win. See you tomorrow.”

He vanished just as Arthur shouted, “Get back here, you bastard!”

Back in his own room, Stayle sat on the bed and remembered Arthur’s ridiculous expression.

The weight that had clung to his chest all day was gone, like it had never been there at all.

He’d be fine. He knew exactly what he had to do.

To be cunning, calculating, trustworthy, polished.

To protect Pryde, his precious sister, and his foul-mouthed best friend.

As long as he kept that in his heart—he’d be okay.

Five years from now, he’d stand proudly at Pryde’s side.

He truly believed that.

…The next morning, Arthur would go room to room apologizing to all the knights for the noise.

Stayle never found out.


PAYPAL 

EUN: I LOVE IT! LOVE THE BOND AND FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN STAYLE AND ARTHUR!!!!

CHAPTERS LIKE THIS ARE THE BEST!! Though tbh its hard to translate when I get all teary cause my glasses fogs up and I can't see sh!t.  


THANKS FOR READING!! SEE YOU ALL ON THE NEXT CHAPTER!


THIS IS CHAPTER 77/2115--THE NEXT CHAPTER IS A NUMBERED CHAPTER. C63




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