A/N: The ending of this game was cute, and inspired me to do this little nugget. RxR!

SPRINGTIME MEETINGS

The patter of young footsteps upon the beaten dirt path was punctuated by a forceful thud, as the last figure among the children fell forward clumsily. Her voice squeaked in alarm, quiet and meek, drowned out by the giggles of her friends who skipped ahead unknowingly. The sunlight shone upon her petite form, the greenery and life around her a sharp contrast to her pale, white linen robes.

Impossibly large brown eyes widened in shock from the impact, before tears began to well up. Her lips quaked, her shoulders trembled, and she bowed her forehead to rest on the ground in defeat. Now they're going to laugh at me… After so many years of the timid girl trying to work up the bravery to approach the other children, the mere thought of losing her new friends was terrifying, and only served to fatten the tears threatening to spill over chubby cheeks.

Suddenly, large hands gently held her sides, bringing her upright before she had the chance to protest the foreign touch, and the dust was brushed off her cloak. Her eyes darted upwards to view the adult figure who had helped her. It was a man – a young man with the kindest, oldest eyes she had ever seen. They seemed to shine with a thousand years of experience, but were held in a face so ethereally beautiful that she could barely look away. A flushed settled upon her cheeks, but she held his gaze, curiosity and wonder filling her heart. He certainly seemed to notice her reddened cheeks, as a wry smile pulled at his lips, faint laugh lines around his mouth creasing in the warmest of ways.

With gentle fingers, in contrast to his rough, callused hands, he wiped off the dirt smeared on her cheeks and stood up. He stepped aside, his long cloak billowing out of the way, and she could just see the backs of her friends pausing to investigate her disappearance. "Go." The word was encouraging, but she couldn't obey right away. Something about his voice hit her, deep within the depths of her soul, and she was momentarily stunned. Who are you?

Her reverie was broken, however, when a bright flash of ruby red caught her eye. Upon his fourth finger was a large ring, the ornate gold band almost too large for his slim fingers. It's loose, she thought absentmindedly, entranced by seeing the beautiful red gemstone encased within the center of it all.

The man tilted his head as he gazed down upon her, and she quickly shook her head and ran past him towards her friends. They greeted her enthusiastically, and slowly began to continue onwards on their journey. However, before she turned the corner, she couldn't help but turn back to take another look at the man who had assisted her.

He was nowhere to be seen, the world almost too bright in the absence of his night-black cloak, the greenery too dull without the burning emerald of his gaze.

Why did he look like he was about to cry?

XXX

As familiar as a breath of spring air filling her lungs, the eternally beautiful young man haunted her. Every year, as the breeze warmed and the flowers bloomed, he would appear before her – watching her, helping her briefly when she needed a quick hand – but as the years went by, he began to interact with her less and less. A flash of green out of the corner of her eye, a billowing black cloak, the glitter of ruby in the sunlight – it was all she could grasp. By the time she grew to be a teen, the image of the greenest, loveliest eyes she had ever seen because almost a fever dream, a childish fancy, a foreign name on the tip of her tongue which she had never spoken.

But no one else saw him. At the start, she would mention him to her friends, her family – however, no one would believe her. It was long after the age of magic had ended, after all, and how in the world was anyone to believe in a cloaked figure being hidden in a village as tiny as theirs?

The only one who came close to believing in her was her grandmother, a wise old woman who simply chuckled at her fervent description of him. "They say the elves are the only ones who bore the hair and eyes of leaves," she sang, slowly knitting away by the hearth. "Maybe you saw a wood sprite?"

"No, he was too normal to be a sprite," she insisted, kneeling beside the elderly woman.

Her grandmother grinned toothily. "Well, if he is an elf, then he could be very old, you know. Maybe he knows you from another life?"

"Another life?" the girl repeated, perking up with curiosity. However, her excitement was quickly dashed to pieces.

"Mother, please don't fill her head of nonsense. Gods know this child has her head in the clouds more than enough already," her mother insisted, however, and that was the end of that.

The girl didn't care whether he was a human, or an elf, or a wood sprite, or a god, even. All she knew was that every time she saw his image hidden in the shadows of her village, something wonderful would happen. There was no ill to be had when she had him to protect her, to grant her peace and warmth. It was like he brought with him the spring flowers, and the rebirth of life after the hard winter – and seeing his green eyes outshone the beauty of the nearby meadows and hills every time.

XXX

It was at the age of sixteen when the ruby ring came into plain view once again, and not simply as a mirage hidden within the greenery of her little village. The darkness of his cloak blended into the shadows, but the ring kept her vision there, focused on the little nook he stood in under a dancing willow tree. Cautiously, she approached him, frantically taking in every detail she could, not daring to take her eyes away – after all, if she blinked, wouldn't he vanish again?

He's still so beautiful, she thought, seeing once more the same green eyes, the same ruby ring clutching the clasp of his cloak. He looked as if he hadn't aged a day, despite it being almost ten years since her initial sighting of him.

Her bare feet floated to him, careful not to disturb even a single twig or leaf until she was close enough to speak without alerting the other villagers. "Hello," she called, but he didn't respond – all she received was that same warm, look, that sad smile… but this time, it seemed intensified, more so than any year before.

She frowned, concerned, before finally asking, "Why do you look like you're about to cry whenever you see me?"

No response.

She paused, "Did you know me once upon a time?"

That question seemed to take the man by surprise, his eyebrows shooting up on his forehead. Watching her quizzically, he nodded an imperceptible amount.

But that response was all she needed.

He had said yes. He had known her. That meant that the legends were all true, that she had been reincarnated. Who had she been? How had he known her? So many possibilities wracked her brain at once, darting everywhere and filling her up with joy and curiosity. Practically jumping up in excitement, she cried, "Well, who are you?"

This time, the man laughed, but refused to speak. It was a musical laugh, hearty but airy all at once, floating on the wind but settling into her soul like an old friend.

She grinned warmly at him, clasping her hands together. "I knew you were real. A part of me was so scared it was a dream… but you're here. I'm so happy."

The man took a small step out from behind the willow trunk, crossing his arms. After a few moments of hesitation, he finally murmured, "And why's that?"

His voice is just like I remembered. That thought filled her stomach up with a thick, heady warmth, and she had to restrain herself from jumping up in joy. "You're kind of my… good luck charm, y'know? I always feel so happy when you're here, like nothing bad can go wrong!" She gestured towards all the flowers blooming down the hilly road beside them. "You bring the flowers with you. It… it's always made me so happy."

This sudden confession is what melted his features completely, his eyebrows scrunching together as he gazed upon her with the most adoring eyes. The change was so drastic, it almost threw her off – no one had ever looked at her like that. "That's good to hear."

"W-why?" she asked, suddenly nervous, feeling a flush rising to her face against her control.

"No reason…" he evaded, watching her coloration in amusement.

She groaned, pressing her hands to her cheeks, eager to change the subject as she felt the heat in her palms. "That's a pretty ring!" she pointed out, laughing nervously.

The man almost guffawed, entertained by her current state. "I know – it's quite beautiful."

"Could I have it?" she asked whimsically. The request clearly threw him off guard, however, as he looked up with a startled expression. Quickly, she backtracked, "Joking, I'm joking!"

The man smiled, meeting her eyes. For what felt like forever, she looked at him – watched the breeze sway the hood of his risen cloak, the black contrasting against his pale, youthful skin – watched the greenish strands sway in front of his face – watched the sparkling of his eyes as he took her in with so much affection, she had to stop herself from running into his arms, had to stop the tears which suddenly threatened to overtake her.

Sniffling slightly, she looked back at the ring and let out a teary giggle. "So, about that ring…"

"Can't give it up." He looked fondly upon it, nostalgia playing upon his lips. "You were sixteen when I gave you this ring… and you were sixteen when you gave it back to me, and asked me to hold onto it forever."

She frowned, placing her hands on her hips defiantly. "If you gave it to me once, why not again? It doesn't even fit that finger you're wearing it on, so why can't I have it? Answer me-"

But her words died out upon her lips as the man looked her dead in the eyes while bringing up the ring to his lips, kissing the ruby with such tenderness her knees almost buckled. "It's part of my good luck charm," he whispered at last.

"Part of?" she croaked.

He grinned, extending a hand towards her. "It leads me back to you."

She hesitated, holding her hand over her heart. With a small, timid voice, she asked, "Why don't you ever stay?"

He shook his head. "This world is full of more forces than you can imagine. Someone has to keep it in check."

"Oh…" she murmured. "Then, will you come back next year?"

"Always."

"…okay," she breathed, the tension and sadness easing from her voice. "You better come back, okay?"

The man raised an eyebrow at her, hand still open in waiting for hers. She giggled, reached out, and placed her small hand in his, holding tight, feeling the band of the ruby ring pressing into her fingers. "Well, you have to come back! I need my good luck charm too!"

And with that, the hand in hers dissipated instantly, his hearty laugh transforming into the whistle of the wind rushing through her hair, and she had to close her eyes to protect herself from the bite of the crisp air. The smell of fresh greenery and earth and flowers and life assaulted her nostrils and filled her lungs with strength, and she closed her now-empty hand and brought it close to her chest. Smiling wide, she pressed her lips gently to the indent his ring had made upon her skin – still a little red and raw from how hard she had held onto him.

But it didn't matter if he was gone now. The spring air was fresh, and no matter what happened, she knew it would be okay. He had the ring, after all – with that, he could always find his way back to her, she just knew it.