For sure!
#11 “I…um…Can I hold your hand?”
#13 Wait, don’t pull away…Not yet.“
Lanterns Over Hakolo
During a lively festival on Hakolo Island, you find a quiet moment away from the celebration with Kyle. As lanterns drift into the night sky and the village rejoices, Kyle reveals a softer side of himself. What begins as a simple request becomes a small but meaningful step forward in their growing bond.
Kyle x GN! Reader
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The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and grilled fish through the lantern-lit Mahana Village. Music drifted over the sand, drums and flutes weaving together as villagers laughed and danced beneath glowing paper lanterns.
It wasn’t often Hakolo Island held a festival this large—but after everything that happened, after Ratha proved he was anything but a harbinger of ruin, the village had decided to celebrate properly.
Ratha dozed near the shoreline, his wings folded as children carefully placed flower garlands on his head. Ena was chatting with the village elder. Even Navirou had disappeared into a stall that was very clearly selling more donuts than souvenirs.
Which left you…alone with Kyle.
He stood a little stiffly beside you near the waterline, boots half in the sand, arms crossed. The firelight painted gold across his sharp features, softening the usual guarded look in his eyes. The two of you had become somewhat friends near the end of it all, and truthfully—though he wouldn’t admit it—Kyle grew kind of fond of you.
“You don’t have to hover,” you teased gently. “I can survive a festival without a bodyguard.”
“I’m not hovering,” he muttered automatically.
You arched a brow.
“…I’m just making sure nothing happens,” he amended.
A comfortable silence settled between you. Waves lapped at the shore. Laughter echoed from further up the beach.
Kyle’s gaze drifted toward Ratha for a moment not with suspicion like before, but something gentler.
“You know,” he said after a beat, “I used to think this was reckless. Celebrating something that powerful.” His jaw tightened slightly. “But… I was wrong.”
You turned to him. “About Ratha?”
“…About Riders.”
That made your chest warm.
A group of children ran past, nearly bumping into you. Instinctively, Kyle’s hand shot out to steady you—fingers wrapping around your wrist.
He froze the second he realized what he’d done.
You both looked down at where he was holding you.
His grip loosened immediately. “Sorry. I—”
He hesitated.
His fingers hovered awkwardly, almost retreating entirely before he swallowed hard.
“I… um…” His ears were faintly red, and he very pointedly avoided eye contact. “Can I hold your hand?”
It was so unlike him the blunt hunter who rarely asked for anything. Who would rather snark than smile. Who usually masked concern with sharp words.
Your heart skipped.
“You’re asking?” you murmured, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
“Yes.” His voice was tight. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just—”
You slipped your hand into his before he could finish.
His breath caught.
For a moment, he just stood there, fingers tentative against yours—like he wasn’t sure what to do next. Then, slowly, carefully, he intertwined them properly.
His hand was warm. Calloused from years of training.
And steady.
The festival lights reflected in the ocean, and for once, Kyle didn’t look like someone bracing for disaster. He looked… peaceful. But there was also a rigidness to him, amplifying a boy who clearly didn’t have much experience in this kind of thing.
You shifted slightly, meaning to step away so he wouldn’t feel awkward.
His fingers tightened.
“Wait,” he said quickly.
You glanced up at him.
“Don’t pull away… Not yet.”
The vulnerability in his voice was barely there a crack beneath the composed exterior. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, almost unconsciously.
“I spent so long keeping distance,” he admitted quietly. “From you and the world you live in.” His gaze finally met yours, earnest and unguarded. “I don’t want to do that anymore.”
The music swelled behind you, lanterns drifting higher into the night sky like floating stars.
“You don’t have to,” you told him softly.
Kyle stepped just a fraction closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as your hand squeezed his tighter.
His shoulders relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen before.
“…Good,” he murmured.
Behind you, Ratha lifted his head briefly, blue eyes watching the two of you—and then, as if satisfied, he settled back down.
Kyle gave your hand a small squeeze, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips.
“Next dance,” you said, a smirk on your face, “you’re not getting out of it.”
The look on his face was enough to make you laugh.
And this time, when he stood beside you beneath the festival lights, he didn’t feel like an outsider or just some kid hunter.
He felt special.