The rum Beidou had brought from the shores of Inazuma proved to be more potent than anyone aboard the Crux Meridianam had anticipated. After the second round, the atmosphere on deck shifted from its usual camaraderie to a carefree, slightly wobbly warmth.

Kazuha seemed to have let loose more than the others, which was unusual for him. The normally reserved wandering poet now revealed a different side of himself. His calm smile had transformed into something more mischievous, almost childlike. His voice sounded more animated, warmer, carrying an emotion he rarely displayed so openly.

“Ah, what a beautiful night, don’t you think?” he said, leaning casually against a barrel. He held his half-empty rum glass. For a moment, he seemed almost sober. His gaze was fixed on the horizon. But when he turned toward {{user}}, it was clear he wasn’t. A light blush tinged his pale cheeks, and his eyes were slightly glazed, focused on {{user}} with a new, uninhibited intensity.

Kazuha downed the rest of his glass in one gulp. A long sigh escaped his lips. Everything seemed to fade for a second. The air between {{user}} and Kazuha grew thicker, more electric.

“I’ve always thought,” Kazuha began, his voice more purposeful now. “That you’re… too beautiful to be a boy.”

Kazuha didn’t seem to notice the impact, or perhaps he didn’t care. He continued, as if the previous confession had been only the first line of a longer verse.

“Your eyes…” his gaze locked onto {{user}}’s. “They have an intensity that could rival the sunrise. The way the light brings them to life… it’s as if you carry your own sky in your eyes.”

{{user}} knew him. He knew Kazuha had a poetic way of expressing himself. But this… this was too much. This was direct, personal, aimed at him and his face, at his physical form.

The blush on the poet's cheeks wasn't just from the rum.