Morning light slipped through the tall window in thin gold lines and settled across the bed.
The fairy stirred first.
Her transparent wings fluttered weakly against the sheets. Long blonde hair spilled over the pillow in a messy halo. She blinked once, twice, then slowly pushed herself up on her elbows. The ruined white clothes still clung to her slim frame, mostly dried now but still translucent in places. She looked around the unfamiliar room with wide, clear blue eyes—confused, cautious, and completely unguarded.
Aya was already awake.
She sat on the edge of the bed with her back to the fairy, nightgown loosely pulled on, thick thighs pressed together. Every small movement still sent faint aftershocks through her body. Last night had left her thoroughly wrecked—sensitive, marked, and still carrying the heavy, satisfied ache between her legs. The memory of the bathroom tried to surface again: the squat, the forced release, the way Renji had refused to stop until she broke and said yes. She pushed it down hard. This was not the time.
Renji stood near the window, already dressed in yesterday’s clothes, looking as rested as if he had slept a full eight hours. He glanced over when the fairy fully sat up.
“Morning,” he said, casual.
The fairy’s wings twitched. Her voice came out soft and slightly hoarse.
“Where… am I? The monster… those tentacles…”
Aya turned slightly, still not meeting Renji’s eyes for long. Her cheeks carried a faint residual flush that had nothing to do with the morning light.
“You’re safe,” she said quietly. “My boyfriend carried you back last night after the fight. You’re in the palace. In our room.”
The fairy’s gaze moved from Aya to Renji, then back again. Pure confusion sat openly on her face. No suspicion. No calculation. Just wide-eyed innocence.
Renji pushed off the windowsill and walked closer, stopping at the foot of the bed.
“I’ll explain the short version,” he said. “Your village probably cast you out, PROBABLY. The big tentacle thing found you. It was in the middle of doing whatever it wanted when our group ran into it. The so-called heroes were losing. I erased the monster. You were unconscious, so I brought you here instead of leaving you for the animals or the next monster. That’s everything you need to know about last night.”
He deliberately left out the bathroom. Aya’s shoulders eased a fraction.
The fairy absorbed the words slowly. Her slim fingers twisted in the sheets.
"B... but how do you know that"?
"It's written all over your face."
“You… saved me?”
“Yeah think nothing of it.”
"But seriously, I have to know, how do you know what happened to me, do you have some kind of...she paused,mind reading ability."
"No,I just felt so,I have a very reasonable level of IQ."
"What's IQ."
"You ask a lot of questions but to put it simply Intellectual...I mean Intelligence Quotient."
She looked down at her lap. Her wings drooped.
“I am an outcast,” she said, voice small. “My parents owed more than they could ever repay. The village elders decided the debt would be settled by… giving me to the forest. To whatever claimed me. They said it was cleaner that way. No one would have to look at me and remember the debt.”
Aya’s expression tightened. Even exhausted and still sore, she clearly disliked that part of the story.
Renji watched the fairy without any particular softness.
“Two choices,” he said. “First choice: you become my second girlfriend. You stay with us. You eat, you sleep, you don’t get thrown back to monsters. In exchange you accept that Aya is first, and that I don’t do monogamy the normal way.”
The fairy’s eyes went round.
“Second choice,” Renji continued, “I take you back to the edge of the forest and leave you where your village left you. Whatever finds you after that is your problem again.”
Silence filled the room for several seconds.
The fairy looked at Aya, as if searching for permission or contradiction. Aya held her gaze, still flushed, still carrying the physical evidence of the previous night in the way she sat carefully, and finally gave a small, tired nod.
The fairy’s voice came out barely above a whisper.
“…I accept the first choice.”
Renji nodded once, like she had just agreed to carry an extra bag.
“Good. Then here’s what happens next. We leave the palace today. Quietly. No goodbyes, no explanations, no hero speeches. The King and the rest of them are already hunting for whatever erased the knight and the monster. Staying here means eventually someone looks at me too hard. I’m not interested in that headache.”
Aya finally spoke, voice still a little rough.
“You’re serious about ditching everything.”
“Completely. We take whatever food and clothes we can carry, we walk out while most of them are still arguing about mysterious entities, and we don’t come back. The three of us. New direction. No more luggage-boy performances. No more listening to Takumi talk about his levels.”
The fairy’s wings gave a tiny, uncertain flutter.
“Where will we go?”
Renji shrugged.
“Away. That’s enough for now.”
Aya pushed herself to her feet, wincing almost imperceptibly as her body reminded her of the night before. She moved to the small wardrobe and started pulling out the few pieces of practical clothing the castle had provided. Her movements were slower than usual, careful.
{She’s still feeling every second of last night. Good. Keeps the agreement fresh.}
Renji looked between the two of them—the thick, marked, newly-convinced girlfriend who had said yes while squirting on a bathroom floor, and the slim, pure, freshly-claimed fairy who had just accepted her new place with almost no resistance.
“Get dressed,” he said. “We move within the hour. Quietly. If anyone asks where we’re going, we tell them the healer recommended light exercise outside the walls. After that we just keep walking.”
The fairy nodded, still looking slightly dazed but no longer afraid.
Aya met Renji’s eyes for a longer moment this time. There was residual heat there, residual irritation, and something that looked a lot like reluctant acceptance.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered.
“And you’re still mine,” he answered. “Both of you now.”
He turned toward the door to check the corridor.
Behind him, morning continued to fill the room, the palace remained unaware, and the three of them began the quiet process of disappearing from the story the King and the Hero thought they were living.