BLACK CLOVER: The Whisperer - Yuno Grinberryall

CHAPTER XXV. What the Past Hides

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The door closed with a small thud.

A lazy waltz over to the compiles of feathers compressed together into a springing body of heaven and dreams was all it took to drain Xierra's energy down the hole. She dove face-first into her bed and sighed in contentment, feeling her stiff limbs and aching body relax.

"It's been a tiring day for all of us, Master. Including you. Take some rest," Inari said. His eyes followed his master's figure sinking into her bed in the Crimson Lion's headquarters. He climbed and sat on one of her unused pillows, observing his master's movements.

Rhein took them to the Crimson Lion King's infirmary when they submitted the enemies' robes to the higher-ups. Their wounds were healed quite decently, but not nearly enough to restore their energy. Their physical scars may disappear, but the memories they brought home with them stayed.

Xierra huffed and lazily turned her head, forcing her eyes to stay open. "Aren't you going to sleep, too? You're the one taking a bigger blow between the both of us, Inari."

He scoffed. "Nonsense. You fought more than I did. Your brain needs resting."

"And so do you."

Inari couldn't debate with her. He shook his head and sighed, waving his tail around in an attempt to ignore her words. Listlessly, Xierra reached her hand out and stroked his tail gently, fiddling with its fur that rivaled the night's darkness.

He hummed and closed his eyes, lowering his body and finally giving in to her suggestion. Crossing his paws, he asked, "And how are you feeling now, Master?"

"Mmm. I'm... fine? I don't know, really. Confused, at most." Xierra questioned her exhausted self and flipped herself on her back, letting her eyes get a view of the crimson canopy above her. She let her hand fly up, gripping the color that seemed so far away from her grasp. She closed and opened her palm, repeating the action as she blinked. She stared at it as if it was the most perplexing thing in the world.

Inari opened one eye, confused. "Master, if you're still worried about the wound I received earlier; please, don't. I'm fine. If I die, you won't," he argued. "I can be revived countless times from your grimoire. However, it won't be the same case if you die, Master."

Xierra glanced at him, staring into his eyes with her blue doe eyes. She didn't know what to say. Her brain stopped working the moment she made contact with her bed.

And he was genuine with his words, she knew. The fact that he would and could die didn't bother Inari in the slightest. He could be revived more than thousands of times with her grimoire, no matter how many times she wanted to.

However, if the wielder of the grimoire dies, he'd disappear along with them, waiting until a millennium more to be reborn.

If fate allows—

—just like before.

In the back of Xierra's mind, his warm eyes reminded her of Yuno's amber-tinged ones. Different shades of yellow, yet they fit into her vision so effortlessly. They looked like otherworldly gems—unreal and unfitting in this chaotic world. So gentle and so kind—and why would she be thinking of him of all people?

She could just be missing Rekka or Nash. Maybe even the little ones back at Hage. Ruffling her hair and messing her neatly-brushed strands, she grunted in frustration. She didn't know why she was feeling this way. She didn't want to know.

The growing uncomfortable feeling in her chest that had been bothering her to no end was starting to prickle her continuously.

Ever since that day—that particular day when he indirectly confessed his feelings—the image of his smile flashed in her head over and over again.