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Lass glances around aimlessly as Arme raises her staff in the air in preparation to cast a healing spell.
"That last battle was a piece of cake," Arme says. "Only took a single blast to get rid of all of them."
Lass says nothing, continuing to stare off into the distance in search of something.
"Uh, hello?" Arme waves her hand in front of his face. "Did you somehow manage to hit your head? I thought you only had a few scratches here and there."
"Huh?" Lass blinks, casting his attention back towards their conversation. "Did you say something?"
Scowling, her cheeks filling with air into a characteristic pout, Arme crosses her arms. "I was saying that I blew up all of the monsters before they could do anything to us."
"Oh," Lass says. "Yeah, you sure did."
"Do you want healing or not?" Arme demands.
He glances down at the superficial wounds on his arms and legs, caused, ironically enough, by the shrapnel detonated as a result of Arme's fiery handiwork. "I mean, I'm not badly hurt or anything," he shrugs. "I could probably save you the mana and just let it heal over time."
"As if that petty amount of healing could put a dent in my mana!" Arme scowls harder. "Seriously, why are you looking around all over the place?"
"I'm not," Lass says, after a pause.
"Are too."
"Am not," he says, now scowling himself. He glances away. "Do you know where Ronan went?"
"Ronan?" Arme thinks, then lets out a matter-of-fact "ah" of recognition. "I get it."
"Get what?" Lass furrows his brow.
"Sheesh," Arme harrumphs. "If you wanted him to heal you, you could've just said so."
Lass' head jerks abruptly towards her. "I never said that I wanted-"
She continues, ignoring him utterly. "So the explosion kind of might have, y'know, made all of the other monsters in the area go totally berserk, so he went to set up a barrier around our camp," she says, speaking increasingly quickly with each word.
"You're making him set up a barrier for your explosion?"
"He's the one who volunteered!" Arme bristles, then sinks down glumly. "Besides, he's totally going to scold me for it later, so."
Lass snorts. "It's his turn for it, huh?"
Arme lets out a pained series of groans. "Do you know how long he can talk before he has to breathe? I think he has, like, whale lungs."
Lass chokes back a snicker. "He does not."
"He does," Arme says, looking upwards at the sky plaintively. "Between him and Lire, I think they could probably filibuster multiple governments at the same time for days."
"You know," Lass says, failing to keep a straight face. "If you didn't keep making so much trouble, they wouldn't be on your case so much."
"I do not make trouble!" Arme retorts. "I come up with great solutions that have tiny unintended side effects!"
"Side effects that include sending an entire army of monsters after us."
"I could just blow them all up anyways!" she exclaims.
"Really," says a dry voice behind them. Arme startles, then flails as she turns around to come face to face with Ronan, barrier duty complete and with one eyebrow raised as if daring her to continue.
"I- uh- eheh-" Arme stammers, panicked.
"I seem to vaguely recall that a certain solution alerted hordes of monsters to our location, as well as burned off one of Ryan's eyebrows," Ronan says pointedly. "Among other casualties."
"Well, I do feel bad about the eyebrow thing," she mumbles.
"Yet not remorseful enough to refrain from causing future incidents," he says, crossing his arms and leaning in closer, a stern expression on his face, as he readies his lecture.
"Oh yeah!" Arme blurts, shoving Lass towards him. "Lass wanted you to heal him! You should really do that right now. I have to go!"
"Hey-" Lass interjects, but Arme sprints away with surprising agility, considering her usual lack of physical prowess.
"You're injured?" Ronan lets her escape in favor of giving Lass a quick once over, his brow furrowed in concern.
"She's exaggerating," he says. "I've just got a few scratches."
Ronan murmurs quietly and frowns. "And are said scratches the result of the earlier solution?"
Coughing, Lass doesn't reply.
His frown deepening into a grimace, Ronan's expression takes on a certain mutinous shade that Lass hurriedly attempts to dispel.
"I'm really fine. I know Arme gets carried away sometimes, but she really is doing what she thinks is best," he says, carefully observing Ronan's face. "Just... go easy on her, okay?"
Ronan's expression softens, then he sighs, nodding reluctantly. "You really needn't defend her so. After all," he remarks dryly, "she's more than capable of defending herself."
"With explosions?" Lass can't help but smirk.
"Yes, those." The corners of Ronan's mouth twitch upwards. "Really, it's a matter of her not learning from her past mistakes, but-" he sighs again. "I daresay Lire is already giving her a talking to as we speak, so I'll refrain from saying anything more. This time."
Lass briefly considers whether that's better or worse for Arme's predicament and concludes that it's worse. He decides to offer her some condolences later, if she hasn't crumbled into dust by then.
"In any case," Ronan says, changing the subject. "Let me do something about those scratches of yours."
"They're nothing to worry about," he says, but doesn't protest as Ronan gently takes his hands into his own, only pausing to linger on the warmth already beginning to flow through their hands and into his wounds, as well as into his face, which is already starting to flush a very light pink. "I don't think you actually have to do that for healing, do you?" he asks, a little wryly, though he makes no attempt to pull away.
"It's more effective this way," Ronan responds simply, smiling as he channels a steady current of mana through the circuit of their clasped hands. Lass watches as the sparks dance over his shallow wounds, quickly vanishing.
"Thanks," he says after a pause, unwilling to draw away just yet. In response, Ronan meets his gaze warmly and moves a few steps closer.
Lass ducks his head briefly in embarrassment, then allows himself to inch forward until he can register the warmth emanating from the entirety of Ronan's body and not just his hands. For a few moments, they lean against each other in comfortable silence.
That silence is swiftly shattered by the distinctive blast of an explosion not far from where they're standing.
"Surely not," Ronan mutters in pure disbelief, his eyes narrowing. He begins to stalk towards the presumed source of the disturbance, and Lass quickly follows him, hoping that their premonition is wrong.
They soon arrive at the scene of Lire towering over Arme with lightning crackling around her both literally and metaphorically.
"I turn around for one second- one second! And somehow you've managed to unleash another explosion?" Lire's usually tranquil tone rises by a few octaves.
"No!" Arme wails, distraught. "It wasn't me, I swear!"
"Who else could it have been?" Lire demands, her hands on her hips. "You even promised me you would think twice before doing something like that again!"
Arme finally notices the presence of the two onlookers and turns beseechingly towards Lass for help.
"Lass, you believe me, right?" she pleads, her hands clasped together tightly.
Lass hesitates, glancing between Lire's stormy glare, Ronan's unimpressed frown, and Arme trapped between them like a fish caught in a net. "Well," he begins.
"Lass," Lire and Ronan say simultaneously. Ronan politely gestures for Lire to take the floor, to which she steps forward resolutely.
"I know you want to defend her, but we just can't have random explosions happening all of the time!" Lire exclaims. Ronan nods in agreement, and she continues. "What if someone were to be seriously injured?" She quickly swivels her head towards Arme preemptively. "And don't say that you would just heal them!"
Arme continues to flail silently, aggrieved.
"No, it's just-" Lass clears his throat. "Look, this is Arme we're talking about. If she caused an explosion, then she'd be bragging about how cool it was, not pretending that she didn't do it."
Arme's mouth hangs open as her eyes narrow, evidently struggling with whether or not to parse his words as an insult.
"That's-" Lire falls into deep contemplation. "That's true. There's no way she wouldn't boast about the complexity of the magic formula she used or how efficient the mana transference was."
"As loath as I am to admit it, that is a rather compelling point." Ronan nods.
"Hey!" Arme yells, finally bursting out indignantly. "You guys make it sound like I'm full of nothing but hot air!"
Lass only raises an eyebrow at her.
"I can't believe this! Whose side are you on, anyways- augh!" With a yelp, Arme dodges clumsily to the side as a familiar helpful robot comes whizzing through the air, hovers in place where Arme stood for a few seconds while beeping and flashing several different colors, then turns around with a salute towards the figure descending down upon them, perched upon her trusty KORMET.
"Oh," Mari says, adjusting her glasses. "Is there a particular reason that you have all gathered here?"
"Hello, Mari," Lire says, then frowns at Arme, who is busy having a staring contest with Helper Bot and losing. "Well, we were..." she trails off, having lost most of her steam from earlier. "No, not really. What brings you here?"
"I am taking survey of debris," she replies, as concisely as usual.
"Debris?" Lire cocks her head to the side. "What for?"
"I am noting down the blast radius of my latest missile test." Calmly, she jots down the results into her notebook as everyone else freezes.
"Missile test?!" Lire and Ronan yell in unison once more.
"I told you!" Arme yelps, vindicated. "I told you it wasn't me!"
"I- that-" Lire clutches her head between her hands. Ronan pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. They exchange a beleaguered look and tacitly come to an agreement. "Mari," Lire says, her voice trembling slightly. "Did you cause that last explosion?"
Mari looks at her inquisitively. "If, by last explosion, you mean the one that took place seven minutes and forty-three seconds ago," she nods affirmatively. "Yes."
Lire emits the strained cry of a hamster trapped in its own burrow. "I... I need to... speak to you, Mari."
She frowns. "Can it wait? I would like to finish writing down these observations."
"No!" Lire shouts, then takes a deep breath. "I'll give you thirty sec- no, one minute."
Mari nods and begins scribbling down her notes at lightning speed.
"I'm so sorry, Arme!" Lire throws her arms around her. "I shouldn't have doubted you."
"Erm, well." Arme scratches her cheek awkwardly, not quite shameless enough by this point to eschew all blame.
Lire sniffles at her perceived humility and squeezes her more tightly. "Ronan, you should apologize, too."
He blinks. "Oh, er..." Ronan stares at them, Lire proudly holding onto Arme, who stands stiffly in her embrace in puffed-cheek embarrassment, and Lass standing to the side and trying hard not to laugh. "I apologize for thinking that you were the culprit behind this last incident, Arme." It takes all of his self restraint not to continue with "but."
Arme clears her throat. "It's- it's fine. How about we just call it even?" she mumbles under her breath.
Lire beams once more, then her smile takes on a shadowy veil as she turns back towards Mari, who continues writing without regard to the imminent danger in her future. "Let's get going, then." She shepherds Mari, unperturbed, away by the arm, her assistants trailing closely behind.
"I can't believe I made it out alive," Arme murmurs in shock.
Ronan crosses his arms. "You will take everything that transpired today to heart, yes?"
"I will!" she pouts. "And I'm going to go research hair-growth magic for Ryan, too!"
He stares at her, eyebrows raised, before nodding with a sigh. "I did agree to 'take it easy on you,' and so..." He nods once more. "We will call it even, then."
Exhaling in relief, Arme flashes Lass a thumbs up of gratitude that he returns, then takes the opportunity to abscond, unscathed, back to her tent.
Lass can vaguely hear the sounds of Lire beginning to scold Mari off in the distance and shakes his head wryly. To his side, he notices that Ronan is staring wearily up at the translucent traces of his handiwork surrounding their camp like a bubble. "What's up?"
Ronan lets out a pensive murmur. "I was just thinking," he says, his eyes still affixed on the horizon. "Regarding the barrier."
"Uh-huh."
He finally turns towards Lass, tiredly. "I think we would be safer outside of it."
Lass takes one look at the exasperation on his face and bursts out laughing.
"I'd rather be staring down a crowd of monsters trying to kill me than one of Mari's missiles, yeah," he snickers.
Ronan grimaces in agreement and lays his hand on Lass' shoulder. "Just in case," he says, conjuring up a thin blue layer of magic around him.
"You're giving me a shield?" Lass raises an eyebrow. "Isn't that going a little overboard?"
"I would rather not see you be blown to smithereens," Ronan replies flatly, with no room for disagreement.
"Well, then," Lass regards him, his head slightly tilted. "What about you?"
"I suppose I could cast one on myself as well," Ronan sighs, but Lass interrupts him by flitting closer and leaning against him, his cheek resting on Ronan's shoulder.
"Easier to maintain if it's like this, right?" Despite angling his head towards Ronan's, Lass can't entirely meet his eyes, the edges of his ears starting to turn pink.
Ronan chuckles, then wraps his arms around him. "Yes, it's more effective this way," he says into Lass' hair.
"Mm." Lass leans in closer, content to nuzzle his head against Ronan's.
Then, like clockwork, the third explosion of the day resounds from somewhere within the perimeter of their camp, and the two can only pull away and stare at each other in increasingly futile denial.
After a very long pause, Ronan breaks the silence with yet another drawn out sigh. "I suppose we have to go investigate," he says with extreme reluctance, offering his hand out for Lass to take. "It's my turn to give the lecture."
Lass can only nod, taking his hand and privately hoping that the culprit, whoever they might be, has recently updated their last will and testament.