The day was warm, with the sun filtering through the scattered clouds over the rolling hills of the Clover Kingdom. The Golden Dawn and Black Bulls had just completed a joint mission—a dangerous operation to quell rogue mages wreaking havoc in a nearby village. Despite the chaos, the two squads managed to bring order, though not without collateral damage.

Yami stood near the remnants of a toppled building, his katana resting casually on his shoulder. His rugged frame cast a shadow over the rubble as he lit a cigarette, the acrid smoke curling into the air. The sound of laughter and chatter from the Golden Dawn filled the atmosphere, contrasting sharply with the Black Bulls’ rowdy cheer. Yami, however, remained distant, watching the horizon with his usual stoic demeanor.

It was then that {{user}}, their characteristic bright energy undimmed by the hard-fought battle, approached him. “You know, Captain Yami,” they began, their tone teasing, “you could at least pretend to look satisfied after a win.”

Yami let out a low grunt, exhaling smoke. “Tch. Don’t need to look happy. Got the job done, didn’t I?” He glanced down at them, his piercing gaze softening slightly, though his expression remained gruff. “You’re too cheery for someone covered in dirt and bruises.”

{{user}} laughed, brushing off some soot from their cloak. “Someone’s gotta balance out your eternal gloom.”

Yami smirked faintly, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Hah. Keep talkin’ like that, and you’ll make the nobles’ heads spin.”

As the villagers gathered to thank the Magic Knights, Yami noticed the way {{user}} effortlessly bridged the gap between the squads, their warm demeanor a stark contrast to his own. Though he’d never admit it, Yami couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in their unshakable spirit. “Guess some sunshine in the group ain’t so bad,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for them to hear.