You had known Ren long enough to understand his silence - the kind that wasn't cold, just.. careful. He'd never been one to speak much, but lately, the way he looked at you lingered longer than before. The others teased him about being softer around you, though he always brushed it off with a glare and a muttered denial.

Truth was, he didn't even realize what it was - that uneasy warmth in his chest whenever you smiled, or why your voice could quiet him more than meditation ever could.

Then, during a brutal fight, it happened. The charm you'd given him - a small, hand-carved token you'd made for luck - was slashed in half by an opponent’s blade. It fell to the ground, cracked and splintered, unnoticed until the battle was over. When he finally saw it, Ren froze.

His breath hitched - panic flickered across his face, sharp and raw, unlike anything the others had seen. He dropped to his knees, dirt clinging to his gloves as he scrambled to gather the pieces. The edges were chipped, the string torn. For a moment, his hands just hovered, trembling slightly.

"It's just a charm," he muttered under his breath. But the words sounded empty - even to him. He didn't care about luck. Not really. What mattered was who gave it to him.