Chapter Text
The wedding was held at Mostro Lounge Novello, the establishment Azul founded as a proper corporate enterprise after graduating from Night Raven College. Its theme remained an undersea-inspired ristorante, yet everything had been significantly upgraded since their school days. True to Azul’s nature, Novello was a high-end establishment that had already secured a loyal clientele and a bustling reputation. It was truly a storefront worthy of the name Novello—meaning "new."
In your early days as a working adult, the prices made it difficult to visit, and now that your income had stabilized, its popularity made securing a reservation nearly impossible. Being invited to private tastings for new menu items was a precious perk of being a former Mostro employee.
Escorted by Floyd, you signed the register and stepped into the venue. To ensure you wouldn't embarrass yourself as his companion, you had scrambled to prepare for the ceremony in a incredibly short window of time. Cosmetics, perfume, a party dress suitable for a wedding, accessories, and shoes—you had bought every single item new. It was a staggering expense, but there are some wounds in this world that can only be healed by reckless spending. Having worked diligently until now, you had a decent amount of savings and plenty of paid time off. You intended to "full-release" both in an absolute splurge.
You knew that after witnessing Jade’s wedding, you would likely be a wreck. Still, you decided that rather than spending your days wilting and wallowing in self-pity like a piece of seaweed washed up on the shore, you would make this experience as meaningful—and as glamorous—as possible.
And so, you had planned a trip—a journey to visit the famous landmarks you had always dreamed of seeing. By keeping yourself busy and immersing yourself in breathtaking scenery, exquisite cuisine, and vibrant cultures, you hoped to endure the pain in your chest. It was your own prescription for heartbreak; a travel-sized dose of painkillers. Besides, once the trip ended, the reality of paying off your splurge would force you to work harder than ever. Nothing motivates a person quite like a fire under their seat.
For the ceremony, you chose a party dress in a soft pinkish-beige. The delicate, puffed sleeves were made of sheer lace that faintly revealed your arms, and the A-line silhouette, reaching down to your ankles, shimmered with tiny sequins that sparkled like distant stars. It wasn't overly flashy, yet it was glamorous and refined. Since the lace fabric covered you from the décolletage to the neck, you skipped the necklace and opted only for earrings—a few strands of finely crushed rose quartz.
If you were the person you had been until recently, you surely would have chosen a dress in pale purple or dark blue, paired with emerald green or turquoise stones—or perhaps pearls—to serve as an accent. Those stones were the ones Jade had given you once, saying he had created them during an Alchemy class. You had processed them into jewelry and wore them often whenever you went out with him. Now, they were sleeping quietly at the bottom of a coffin-like box.
In the end, you still haven't been able to throw away the things Jade gave you or the clothes and accessories tied so deeply to your memories of him. You managed to isolate them in a box, but discarding them was simply impossible. You likely won't wear them ever again. But you hoped that, within the privacy of your own room, you could be forgiven for occasionally taking them out to gaze at them and lose yourself in the memories.
Floyd, who had come to your room to pick you up, widened his eyes in surprise at your sudden change in color palette. His brow furrowed slightly in a fleeting look of concern, but he simply said, "That style suits you too," with a gentle tilt of his head. For all his unpredictability, he really was a kindhearted merman.
Once you were led to your seat, you took a quick, discreet look around. Your table with Floyd seemed to be reserved for those closely associated with the Mostro Lounge. While others were chatting familiarly with him, they were all strangers to you. You scanned the room for a familiar face, but your search came up empty.
Given that the entire Novello had been booked for the occasion, it was possible that under Azul’s management, the guest list had been strictly limited to business associates rather than school friends. Part of you hoped that was the case. It was much easier on the heart to believe that all their former classmates had been excluded, rather than just you.
Before long, the ceremony commenced with Azul acting as the master of ceremonies. It appeared that Jade’s wedding was not a religious affair to swear love before a god, but a civil ceremony to exchange a marriage contract before the assembled witnesses. When Azul smoothly slid the contract in front of the bride and groom, you nearly burst out laughing and had to quickly cover your mouth.
Beside you, Floyd’s eyes crinkled into a mischievous, knowing grin.
I see, you thought. No wonder they couldn't invite any old friends from school.
Anyone with the temperament to survive Night Raven College would have burst out laughing right then—and quite possibly started heckling. After all, you’d be hard-pressed to find a single person at that school who hadn't suffered at the hands of Octavinelle’s infamous trio and their schemes.
The groom and bride each signed the contract and exchanged rings. It was a radiant, breathtaking sight. Jade, the groom, was impeccably dressed in a pure white frock coat that brought back memories of his Birthday Suit, while the bride beside him wore a stunning lace wedding dress with a long, sweeping train.
They must have been tailored as a matching set. Upon closer look, parts of their seemingly pure white attire featured a shimmering fabric with a faint purple luster, blending perfectly into the ethereal, deep-sea-themed venue.
Ah, how beautiful they are.
Ah, what a perfectly matched couple.
You watched their silhouettes as they leaned into each other amidst the applause, and you gently lowered your eyes. Though your chest felt as if it were being crushed, you found that you could still truly pray for their happiness from the bottom of your heart. You wanted to praise yourself for being able to do that, for making it here today.
Once this was over, your heartbreak trip would begin. Once you were alone, you would indulge in self-pity to your heart's content, then pivot to enjoying every second of the hectic solo itinerary you had planned.
"Little Shrimpy."
Floyd leaned down, whispering softly directly into your ear. Instead of asking what he wanted, you simply looked up at him.
"The food’s gonna start comin' out now."
"Okay."
"I came up with the entire course menu for today myself. So, look forward to it."
You knew then—that was Floyd’s own way of comforting you.
You caught your breath for a moment. That sudden, casual kindness sent a surge of heat to your throat, but you fought to swallow it down. This was the grand stage for Jade and his new wife. You didn't want to dampen it with soggy tears.
Instead, you pressed your lips into a firm line for a second, then forced the corners of your mouth upward into a smile.
"Yes, I’m looking forward to it."
Floyd’s hand came to rest lightly against your back. It was a massive palm. He didn't use enough strength to actually prop you up, but it was a gentle hand that seemed to say, I’m right here beside you.
With that, you resolved to enjoy the meal from the bottom of your heart. This was a full-course menu designed by Floyd. There was no way it wouldn't be spectacular.
And indeed, the food was divine. Each dish was a work of art, delicately plated, offering glimpses into Floyd’s uncompromising obsession with flavor.
"This crab, right? I was super picky about where it came from. If it’s not from that specific spot, you just can't get this flavor. I almost went over budget on this alone, and Azul totally flipped out at me."
"Ehh? Was it okay in the end?"
"Once I made him taste it, even Azul had to shut up. He was like, 'Fine, we certainly can't drop the quality from here…'"
"Brute force," you giggled.
Floyd leaned his face close to your ear, regaling you with hilarious "behind-the-scenes" development stories for every single dish. Laughing softly, you savored the exquisite flavors. Between the soul-melting food and the lively conversation, the tension in your heart gradually began to soften.
It was in the middle of this that Floyd let out a small, audible groan. With his eyes half-lidded and his shoulders slightly hunched, he looked exactly like he used to back in school when a teacher caught him mid-mischief.
"Floyd-senpai?"
"Jade totally just noticed Little Shrimpy. He's makin' an incredible face. Hilarious."
"What?!"
You reflexively ducked into Floyd’s shadow, trying to hide from Jade’s line of sight.
"Jade-senpai didn't know I was coming?"
"Nope. I didn't tell 'im."
"Why?!"
"A surprise?"
"That’s the worst!"
Imagine a classmate you never invited just casually showing up at your wedding. No wonder Jade was making a "face." You glared at Floyd, but he didn't look the least bit repentant.
"So, whatcha wanna do?"
"Do? About what?"
"Go see Jade? Wanna say hi?"
"Impossible. No way, no way, absolutely impossible."
"Wow, instant answer."
"Of course it's an instant answer! Seriously!"
You shook your head violently at Floyd’s unthinkable suggestion. If you actually went to see him and exchanged words, there was no way you could maintain your composure. Your mental fortitude wasn't that invincible. Seeing your expression stiffen as you repeated "impossible," Floyd’s gaze softened slightly. He simply nodded and didn't push the matter further. For all his mischief, Floyd Leech knows exactly when to back off.
And so, the ceremony concluded without further incident.
It was over.
It had been a beautiful wedding. The food had been delicious, and the ceremony itself had been seamless and sophisticated. Hooking the paper bag containing the wedding favors—a selection of baked sweets—around your finger, you let out a long, weary sigh.
It was done. Your long, unrequited love for Jade Leech had finally reached its end.
"Little Shrimpy."
"Yes?"
Floyd approached you as you waited in the lobby. In his hand was the same paper bag you were holding.
"Wanna go grab a drink?"
"I’m in," you answered instantly.
Tomorrow morning, you were heading out on your journey. It was a "heartbreak tour" powered by every scrap of paid leave and savings you had accumulated. You had booked luxury hotels and packed the itinerary with every landmark you'd ever wanted to see. You knew you should go back to your room and sleep early to prepare.
And yet, tonight of all nights, you simply couldn't bear to be alone. Eating those wedding favors—those little pieces of happiness distributed by the bride and groom—all by yourself felt too cruel. But you weren't the type of person who could just throw them away, either.
Under Floyd’s escort, you ended up at a cozy, secluded speakeasy. Apparently, Azul was considering opening a bar of his own, so Floyd had been busy scoutng out promising locations. This was one of his recent favorites. The cheese platters were divine, and the original cocktails were sweet and dangerously easy to drink.
Feeling generous, the two of you opened both bags of wedding sweets and shared them with the other patrons in the bar.
That was roughly where your memory became a blur.
Eventually, your consciousness flickered back to life.
"………………"
You blinked once, twice. It was morning. The room was bright with daylight. You were tucked into a bed in a room you didn't recognize.
"………………"
Slowly, you pushed yourself up. The room was simple but elegant; you could tell at a glance it was a high-end hotel suite. You glanced tentatively to your side. There was a large lump under the covers, unmistakably human-shaped.
Please let it be Floyd, you prayed as you pinched the edge of the duvet and peeled it back just a fraction.
Relief washed over you. It was, indeed, Floyd.
You let out a long, weary sigh of relief.
The only slight problem was that Floyd was wearing nothing but his boxers. His lithe, well-muscled frame rose and fell steadily with each breath.
"Oh, boy…"
The words slipped out before you could stop them. You’d spent so much time with Floyd since your school days that it felt impossible to imagine actually crossing that final line now. You looked down at yourself to check your own state.
It seemed you were wearing Floyd’s dress shirt. On him, it was a perfect fit; on you, with your significant height difference, it served as a makeshift dress. He probably realized he couldn't leave you passed out in a formal party gown and changed you himself. You had a hazy, flickering memory of him grumbling, "Little Shrimpy, if you don't take your makeup off, tomorrow’s gonna be a disaster," while scrubbing your face with makeup remover.
I definitely need to thank him for this later, you thought, reaching for your phone on the nightstand to check the time. It was still early morning. Your solo travel plans were still safe.
You quietly slipped out of bed. Your plan was to get yourself ready and then wake him up just as you were about to leave. There was likely plenty of time before checkout, and since he looked so peaceful, you wanted to let him sleep.
Where did he put my dress? In the wardrobe?
As you stepped onto the plush, soft carpet, you suddenly sensed something… off. A strange vibration in the air, a faint, rhythmic rattling.
"………?"
You scanned the room for the source of the noise—and nearly choked on your breath when you found it.
The heavy front door of the hotel suite was vibrating silently, as if under immense pressure from the other side.
"………………"
Doors, as a general rule, are not supposed to vibrate.
Wub. Wub. Wub.
The shaking was rhythmic, the surface of the door rippling as if it were underwater.
"………?"
Tilting your head, you tentatively reached out. The moment your fingertips brushed the wood, a massive shockwave rattled your bones.
"Eek!"
It wasn't that the door was vibrating on its own. Someone was pounding on the other side with enough force to shatter the frame.
Bang-bang. Bang-bang. Bang-bang-bang.
It was like watching a silent film. The hotel door was likely enchanted with noise-canceling and physical-resistance magic—standard for high-end establishments—which explains why you couldn't hear the impact. But by the looks of it, that magic wasn't going to hold much longer.
You scrambled backward, stumbling over your own feet. Someone was out there. Someone was trying to pulverize the door.
"!"
You spun on your heel and dove back toward the bed, frantically shaking Floyd’s shoulder.
"Floyd-senpai, wake up! Floyd-senpai, please!"
"Nng… what is it… I'm still sleepy…"
"I think we're being attacked!"
"Eh…?"
Slowly, his long, sea-colored lashes fluttered open. His heterochromatic eyes wandered hazily for a second before snapping into focus as he sensed the abnormal tension in the air. He sat bolt upright, the duvet sliding down to reveal a well-toned torso that was far too much for your morning eyes to handle.
"Little Shrimpy, you stay right there."
"Okay."
Leaving you on the bed, Floyd padded toward the entryway. He took one look at the door and groaned.
"Ugh."
You eased yourself off the bed to peek at him. Floyd’s face was puckered into a look of pure exasperation—the kind of sour grimace he used to make back in school whenever his mischief finally drove Azul to a breaking point. It didn't feel like an enemy attack; it felt like… trouble of a more personal variety.
"Floyd-senpai, what on earth did you do?"
"I guess I stepped on a landmine? Or, like, blew right through it. Ugh. Is this really my fault? He’s totally livid. Terrifying."
Floyd looked genuinely annoyed, running a hand through his messy, bed-head turquoise hair.
"I mean, I don't mind pickin' a fight, but I really don't wanna go at it here first thing in the mornin'…"
"What to do, what to do…" he muttered, glancing sideways at you. Then, his lips curled into a familiar, mischievous grin.
"Little Shrimpy."
"Yes?"
"Wanna run for it?"
Run. From this room. From whatever mess Floyd had managed to get himself into. You didn't fully understand the situation; all you knew was that Floyd had screwed up somehow, and someone—absolutely fuming—was currently trying to kick the door down.
"………………"
You only thought about it for a few seconds.
Since yesterday, Floyd had been right there by your side. He had stayed with you so you wouldn't have to spend a miserable night alone. You owed him.
In your hand was a ticket for your "heartbreak tour." If you called the travel agency now, could you change it to a pair? If not, you’d just change the whole plan.
Alright. Decision made.
"Floyd-senpai, care to go on a getaway with me?"
"Huh?"
Floyd’s eyes went wide. He looked almost boyish, and for a moment, you were transported back to your school days when the two of you were constantly causing chaos together.
A sharp pang of nostalgia pricked your chest, followed by a sudden, fiery surge of "let’s do this" guts. During your time at Night Raven College, that sheer stubbornness was the only thing that had carried you through countless disasters. So, this time would be no different.
"I was planning on leaving for a trip today anyway. So, why don't you come with me?"
If Floyd was with you, it would be fun. No—it would be a blast. After all, you’d have a terrifying pursuer on your tail. You wouldn't have a single second to mope about your broken heart.
Seeing your eyes sparkling with a fierce, burning light, Floyd’s grin widened into a sharp, daring smirk. It was a bold, fearless look—the exact same face he used to make right before he started something truly outrageous back at school.
"Of course I'm in! C'mon, hurry up and get ready, Shrimpy! The door's not gonna hold much longer!"
"Do I have time to change?!"
"Nope!"
"I figured!!"
You frantically grabbed your dress, stockings, and the accessories left on the bedside table. Realizing those stylish high-heeled pumps were the worst choice for a getaway, you unceremoniously stuffed them into the paper bag that had originally held the wedding favors.
Meanwhile, Floyd was busy pulling on the slacks he'd found on the floor. Since you were still wearing his shirt, he remained bare-chested. He slipped his feet into his leather shoes without socks, tapped his toes twice against the floor, and swept the balcony curtains aside with a single hand.
Outside the window lay a vast, crystal-clear blue sky. The morning sun, not yet at its peak, shimmered with a pale, brilliant light.
"F-Floyd-senpai, you don't mean…"
"Oh, I definitely do! ♡"
Before you could protest, Floyd’s arm wound around you, lifting you off your feet and hoisting you onto his shoulder with a grunt. He threw the window wide, stepped out onto the balcony, and launched himself into the air. His next footfall landed right on the balcony railing; with another powerful kick, his long frame soared into the open sky.
A thin, pathetic shriek escaped your lips, trailing behind as the two of you plummeted gracefully into the blue.