Natsu had lived many lives.
He never remembered them fully—only fragments, dreams that felt too real, emotions that had no source. But there was always one constant: Seui.
He found her in every lifetime. A stranger at first glance, then a familiar warmth that made the world fall away. She was always there. Sometimes as a childhood friend. Sometimes a fellow traveler. Once, even a rival commander across a battlefield. But no matter the form, his soul always knew her.
And each time, they loved.
And each time… he left.
Not because he stopped loving her. Never that. But something always called him away—an orphaned child, a crumbling nation, a sacred vow. He would kiss her forehead, promise to return and disappear into the duty he could not abandon.
Seui never stopped him. Never cried. She would simply smile, nod, and whisper, “Do what you must.”
Lifetime after lifetime, the pattern held.
Until this one.
In this life, he was a soldier. Not by pride or pleasure, but because something in him refused to ignore the cries of a world in pain. Even now, in this life, he was a reservist—called only when the storm rose high enough to break the silence.
When he met Seui again in this life, it was almost gentle. She was teaching in a quiet coastal town, helping children piece together broken futures. He was stationed nearby, helping with local relief after a flood. They met over coffee. Fell into rhythm. Shared laughter and long, unspoken glances.
For two years, they made it work. Weekend walks. Late-night conversations. A love both old and new.
But then came the call. One more conflict flaring up. One more deployment. His unit had been activated.
They spent two years together, sharing laughter, silence, and dreams. This time, he believed—hoped—it could last.
He told her gently, as he always did. And she nodded, as she always did.
But this time… her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
When he turned to leave the room, he heard it. A quiet sob—sharper than any scream.
He froze.
“Natsu,” she said, her voice shaking. “Please… don’t go. Not this time.”
He turned. Her hands were clenched at her sides. Tears ran freely down her cheeks.
“I’ve watched you walk away from me in every life. I never said a word. I told myself love means letting go—but Natsu, it hurt. Every time, it hurt.”
He stared, stricken.
“I waited. Life after life, I waited for the moment you’d choose me. Just once. And I told myself I was strong enough to bear it when you didn’t. But now…” Her voice cracked. “Now I’m tired of being the one left behind.”
"If you can’t choose me—even once in a single lifetime—then please… let me go.”
“I’ve loved you across time. In every version of us, I stood quietly by your side while you walked away to serve something greater. And I convinced myself that loving you meant understanding… meant patience… meant being strong enough to wait.”
“But the truth is… it hurts. It has always hurt.”
“I’ve buried my pain beneath silence, smiled when my heart was breaking, and pretended that ‘next time’ would be different. But there’s never a next time, is there? Just another version of me… watching you leave again.”
“I’m not asking you to stop being who you are. I never have. But if being who you are means there is never a space for me—never a life where I’m not the goodbye—then please, let me stop hoping.”
“Let me stop hurting.”
“Because if you can’t choose me, then don’t keep finding me. Don’t keep holding my hand like it means forever, only to let it go when the world calls. I need to matter to someone the way I made you matter to me.”
“So if I can't be the one you choose… let me be the one you release.”
“I will always love you. But I need to love myself too.”
Natsu stepped forward, guilt blooming in his chest like fire.
“I thought you understood,” he whispered.
“I did,” she said. “And that’s what made it worse.”
Silence filled the room. For once, the pull in his chest—the one that had always led him away—faltered.
And for the first time in all his life, Natsu didn’t know what to say. Natsu stood still, Seui’s words echoing louder than any battlefield, any oath, any desperate plea he’d answered in other lives.
She wasn’t angry. That would’ve been easier. Her voice was cracked porcelain—pain held too long, love stretched too thin. And yet she stood there, not demanding, not accusing. Just… finally letting herself be seen.
He stepped closer, every memory across centuries rising like a tide—her eyes in a healer’s tent, her laughter in a rainstorm, her silence at every parting.
“I never knew,” he said softly. “You never let me see it.”
“I had to believe,” she said, voice breaking. “Believe that my love could be strong enough for both of us. But… I’m only human, Natsu. Even now.”
She looked at him then, not as the woman he always remembered, but as the one standing here—present, trembling, real.
He realized something then: it wasn’t the world calling him away. It was himself—always chasing purpose, legacy, something greater. But what could be greater than the one soul who met him in every life and still waited?
He took her hands in his.
“I’ve saved a thousand lives, Seui. But I never chose to save the one that mattered most.”
She blinked, uncertain. “What are you saying?”
“I’m not going,” he whispered. “Not this time.”
Her breath caught. “You’ve said that before…”
“No,” he said. “I’ve said ‘I’ll return.’ I’ve said, ‘Wait for me.’ I’ve never said ‘I’m staying.’”
And he meant it.
Because love wasn’t just letting go. Sometimes it was choosing to stay, even when the world begged you to run.
That night, for the first time in all their lives, Natsu and Seui fell asleep not wondering what might have been—but finally living what should have always been.
Together.
