Back at the inn, Sakura sat in the lounge with Mahou, Rose, and Oscar. Her fingers were tapping against the table as worry gnawed at her.

"Where is he? Should we look for him? I’m getting worried, Dad…"

Mahou rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder, offering a soft smile. "I’m sure he’s fine."

But as the minutes stretched on, the weight of uncertainty lingered.

Then, finally, Indigo appeared. He stepped through the doorway with an unreadable expression, his steps measured—too controlled for comfort.

"Took you long enough," Rose muttered, arms crossed.

Mahou glanced up as Indigo stepped inside, eyeing the dust on his boots and the tension still lingering in his stance.

"You look like you got in a fight," he remarked, voice worried but expectant. "Did you at least get anything useful?"

Indigo exhaled, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a few bundles of herbs, followed by a vial of animal blood—not much, but enough to be of use.

"Herbs, blood," he muttered, setting them down. "Not exactly worth the time, but it’ll do."

Mahou nodded, inspecting the supplies, but his gaze lingered on Indigo for a moment longer than necessary.

"And what took you so long?"

Indigo hesitated.

The fight flashed through his mind—Amethyst’s voice, the sharp insults, the way neither of them knew how to say what they actually felt.

He shook the thought away, gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself in the present.

"Didn’t realize how spread out the market was," he lied smoothly. "Figured I’d make the trip count."

Mahou tilted his head, suspicion creeping over him.

But as Indigo sat down, staring blankly at the dried herbs, the weight of everything he wasn’t saying settled deep in his chest. His eyes weren't lively like they usually were.

Mahou sighed, nodding, but didn’t press further. Sakura’s worry shifted into quiet relief, though Oscar studied Indigo a little longer, like he knew there was more to the story. It looked too similar to how he felt when rose pushed him away.

That night, Indigo sat alone in a chair in his shared room, staring out the window as the stars flickered above him—scattered, distant, just out of reach.

And somewhere out there, Amethyst was still walking away.

The dim glow of candlelight flickered in their shared room, casting soft shadows against the walls. Indigo moved to sit on the edge of his bed, staring at nothing, his hands pressed together—elbows on his knees.

Sakura came to the room later on in the night, once she was done hanging out with Rose.

She sat across from him, legs tucked beneath herself on the opposite bed. She had been watching him when he returned. Not hovering, not pressing—but watching.

"You’ve been quiet," she finally said, voice gentle but weighted with concern.

Indigo exhaled, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head. "Nothing to talk about."

Sakura frowned, shifting slightly. "You came back different."

Indigo leaned back against the wall. "I’m fine, Sakura. Just tired."

She didn’t believe him. She knew him too well.

Sakura bit her lip before speaking again, softer this time. "You know... when you’re upset, you always act like it doesn’t matter. Like it’s not sitting there, eating at you. But it is, isn’t it?"

Indigo’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

Sakura knew better than to push. Instead, she sighed, stretching her legs out as she shifted on the bed.

"I don’t know what happened," she admitted. "But whatever it was, I hate seeing you like this."

Indigo let his eyes close for a moment, inhaling deeply. The fight, the words, Amethyst walking away—it all weighed too much.

"It’s nothing," he repeated.

Sakura watched him for a long moment before speaking.

"You don’t have to talk, but... You know I won’t judge you, right?"

Indigo didn’t answer, but something in the tension in his shoulders eased—just a little.

And for now, that was enough.

He lay in bed for quite some time thinking about what he should have said to Amethyst.

‘I should have told him the truth..I’m such an idiot..’ he frowned and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

Indigo seemed in much better spirits the next morning after he had slept.

Mahou had an announcement for them as they were putting their bags on the horses.

“After we eat breakfast, we are going to pay a visit to someone who has supplies for us.” 

They all nodded. Once the horses were all ready, they headed to the tables of the inn. Mahou sighed as he sat down.

Rose sat down next to him and smirked, “Think they will judge us for eating more than their diet?”

Sakura chuckled, “I'm sure they will just stick the stereotype that rich people are gluttonous on us.”

A small smile spread on Rose's face. "Humans are very gullible. I envy them for that.”

As the innkeeper brought food to them, they settled down.

Mahou spoke up before the innkeeper left. "Could you bring more roasted meats, fresh fruit, and warm bread? I’ll pay extra if needed."

The innkeeper nodded, disappearing into the kitchen. Moments later, servants arrived, carrying platters of seasoned meats—tender and rich—alongside bowls of ripe figs and grapes. A fresh loaf of crusty bread, still warm from the oven, was placed at the centre of the table, its golden surface glistening with olive oil.  

They all took their portions, indulging in the hearty meal. Simple yet decadent, sustaining yet indulgent—the perfect balance for those who needed more than a human did. 

Once they were done eating, Indigo leaned back, crossing his arms, a smirk firmly in place. He had been waiting for this moment.  

"So, how was last night?~"  

Rose shot him a glare so sharp it could cut steel.  

"Very funny—" she started, but Sakura was already grinning, resting her chin on her hand.  

"Come on, Rose," she teased. "We did you a favor. Best friends sharing a room? Sounds like fate to me."  

"A favor?" Rose scoffed, crossing her arms. "You two forced it onto me!"  

Indigo shrugged, entirely unapologetic. "And you’re still complaining? Thought you’d be grateful."  

Rose opened her mouth to retort, but something in her expression flickered—brief, almost imperceptible.  

Indigo caught it immediately. Oh, that was interesting.  

Her face burned, and she turned away, suddenly very interested in the last piece of bread on her plate.  

"It wasn’t weird," Oscar said between bites, tone casual—too casual.  

"See?" Rose snapped, gesturing toward him. "Perfectly normal. Nothing to talk about."  

Indigo hummed, still far too amused for her liking.  

"Yet you’re the only one acting embarrassed."  

Rose hated that he had a point.

She rolled her eyes and stood up “I’m going to the horses.” She stomped off.

Oscar stared at her before quickly following after her. Once they made it to the stables, he spoke, “Rosie! Hey- it’s alright,” he said, leaning against the wall next to her.

“I know- I just needed to cool off. You didn’t have to come with me.”

“I know. We know what happened last night. You just needed to calm down. I helped you. Nothing weird.” A soft smile spread across his lips as he patted her back, attempting to reassure her. 

“Thank you for everything. I really appreciate you, Oscar,” she smiled softly.

Oscar’s face reddened, “Oh-heh, it’s nothing.”

“But it’s not- nothing.”

Oscar looked at her, “Yeah. Well, you’re welcome. I’d do it all again.”

Indigo walked over “Flirty time is over, lovebirds. We have somewhere to be.”

“Indigo. Don’t you have anything better to do than torment me?” Rose turned away and got on her horse.

“Nope!” Indigo snickered before gripping the reins of his horse.

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave your sister alone?” he sighed and started walking ahead on his horse, irritated with Indigo’s childishness.

As the last adjustments were made and preparations finalised. Mahou gave a brief nod, signalling it was time.

Without another word, he stepped forward, leading them into the heart of the town, where the air buzzed with voices, merchants bartered over goods, and unseen dangers lurked beneath the surface of ordinary life.

They moved with purpose, blending into the flow of people, their secrets tucked beneath layers of silence.