I've been looking for you for a long time.

 I've been looking for you alone in the vastness of the sea.

 No matter how many times I am reborn, I will be.

 Ten years ago...
 Militia World. Azation, village of Loza.

 A light drizzle in the late afternoon.

 I can hear the sound of hooves treading in a puddle.

 An opulent carriage stops in front of a commonplace house.
 On the cabin is the royal coat of arms of the Gailladite family.

'Isabellach, Isabellach...!

 The voice of an old woman who seemed to be in a hurry echoed through the house.

 It belonged to Isabella's grandmother, Melia.

'Yes, wait a minute. It's almost ready to bake.'

 Isabella, who was baking a snack pie in the kitchen, replied in a huff.

 With a flutter of feet, her grandmother comes over.

No, it's not that. You're in trouble," she said. The Prince of Gaillardite is here. What in the world has he done to you?

The Prince of Gaillardite?

 From the kitchen, Isabella nodded her head as she peeked out.

'I don't know,'

I don't know, does that make me the wrong person? Oh, that's right. How could a prince come to see a commoner like us in person?

It's not a mistake.

 My grandmother turned around and saw a young man enter the house.

 He was wearing royal attire and two soldiers were waiting behind him.

'I was snuck into the ball the other day. Do you remember that?

 Isabella looks back at the memory.

'Oh ... the jeweler Jake's good friend ... Mr. John ...'

 Isabella, who was an apprentice appraiser, had been a favorite of the jewelers of the capital for her connoisseurship.

 It was through this connection that she attended the ball and was introduced to the young man who was now before her.

'I could not formally identify myself at the ball. I would like to address him again. I am John Engelo, the fourth heir to the throne of Gaillardite.

Welcome to the home of lowlifes like us. We are not used to this kind of thing. Please forgive our ill manners.

 Melia slowly bends her knees to kneel.
 Isabella gently lent her a shoulder.

'Are you okay? Grandma? Take your time.

He's got a bad knee. It's all right. You too, Isabella.

 John says softly.

 Isabella bowed her head begrudgingly.

'Well my prince, what can I do for you today...?

I brought something for you from the ball.

 Isabella gave her a strange look.

''Well I can't believe I forgot something--''

 She was speechless.
 John took out a ring case and opened it.

 Inside was a diamond ring that must have weighed many carats.

 The ring was gold, with special embellishments that were only allowed to those of the royal family.

'I have forgotten my words to you. Ever since I spoke to you the night of the ball, you have been on my mind.

 John knelt before Isabella quietly.
 Then he said.

'Please, Isabella, I want you to be my wife. I will provide you with anything you desire. I swear to you that I will make you happy.

 My grandmother covered her eyes with her hands, as if impressed.
 A few tears were smeared across her eyes.

I'm sure you'll be happy to know that you've lived a long life. I'll be able to go to the other side without worrying.

I'm sorry.

 Silence assaulted the room.
 An awkward silence lasted for a few seconds.

 Even Prince John didn't seem to be able to continue with a second phrase.

 He wasn't so arrogant as to say that he didn't expect to be rejected, but he didn't think that he would be turned down by the royal family's offer of marriage without any hesitation at this moment, as expected.

''I see. I was premature in thinking that a nice woman like you didn't have any feelings for me.......''

No, he's not.

 Once again, an awkward silence filled the room.

 The prince has an unbearable look on his face and the two soldiers behind him seem to be at a loss as to what to do.

''.........................Can you tell me why?

 Prince John said, as if he couldn't give up.

'I'm not asking you to make a decision just because you've met me. ─ I don't want you to make up your mind just by meeting me, but first and foremost I want you to know who I am and how I feel about you. If there is something wrong with you, I will try to fix it and become the man you deserve. And then, Isabella, if you still can't accept the marriage proposal, that's fine. So I want you to wait to come to a conclusion right now.

'Look, Isabella. 'See, Isabella, the prince says this? Can't you just think about it for a minute...?

 Melia gives the prince a helping hand.

 He didn't want his eccentric granddaughter to regret her rash decision.

 Then Isabella says in a leisurely tone.

'My prince. I am a rainy woman. Whenever there is something important to do, whether it was at birth, at my school entrance examinations, or when I was hired by my current shop, it has always rained.

 It was as if the conversation had flown by out of the blue.

 Still, John listened intently and ministered.

'If you'll stop this rain noise, I'll think about it a bit more.

 John keeps a straight face.

 There was no way he was going to be able to stop the rain.

'....Apparently, to bite off more would only add to the shame...'

 He must have taken it as a rejection.

 The prince realized that he indeed had no pulse.

 Isabella bowed deeply.
 John turned on his heel and left her house.

 When she saw from the window that the royal carriage was out of sight, her grandmother Melia exhaled heavily, as if the tension was broken.

You're really not afraid of anything, aren't you? I was surprised that the prince found you, but I never thought that you would refuse a proposal so easily....

 Melia stumbles over to the chair.

 Taking her hand, Isabella assists her.

'I'm sorry, Grandmother. If we went to the royal palace, I'm sure grandmother would have been able to live more comfortably...''

Oh, come on. I come from a farming family that only knows how to work the fields. I don't like living in the palace. I don't have much time left to live. And I don't intend to leave this village.

 Slowly, Melia sat down in her easy chair.

'It's you I'm worried about, you know. You're a good-hearted, high-spirited kid. I'm very proud of you, my granddaughter. You're a little bit strange, but you're also very attractive.

 My grandmother is rubbing her hands on her knees to see if it hurts.

─ So many men have looked at me. They included the kindest man in the village, the most beautiful woman in the village, a rich man, a scholar, a warrior and a nobleman. And now a prince. But you're not interested in anyone at all.

 Isabella laughs vaguely.

Your parents passed away and I tried my best to give you a wife, but you know what? I can't die in peace if you keep going like this.

Then maybe we don't have to get married.

 Melia shook her head calmly, but quietly. 

It's not a good idea. It's a very good idea to be able to have a good time with them.

 Isabella wishes she could show her grandmother the bride while she's still alive and well.

 But it's not the same.
 She could be kind, beautiful, rich, scholarly, aristocratic, or even a prince.

 None of them can move her heart.

 I don't know why.
 It's not that she doesn't fall in love.

 Sometimes she talks about love with girls her own age.
 Still, no matter who hits on me, I feel differently.

 The kind of matchmaking that most village girls would envy, but for the life of her, she doesn't find it appealing.

 She herself is a mystery.

 I felt like I'd been waiting forever.

 She has been waiting for someone she has never met.
 Always, always, always.

 She couldn't tell her grandmother about that, because it would only cause her to worry.
 I couldn't tell anyone.

"I've got to go to work. I've got an appraisal to deliver.

Yeah, have a good day.

 Once the baked pies were out of the stone oven and ready for Melia to eat at any time, Isabella left the house.

 Her job was like a simple errand.
 She delivered the goods to the customer, got her fee, chatted for a bit, and that was it.

 When I went outside, the rain was getting stronger.

''I'm in trouble...''

 Putting up her umbrella, Isabella stepped out boldly.

 She walks for a while, but the rain legs only get stronger.

 The sound of rain echoes off the umbrella and the ground.
 Her feet stepping in puddles of water, leaping and sounding the rain. 

 Isabella took refuge inside the old church that was close by, as if to escape.

''I'm sorry........''

 I called out to the back of the room to see if I could take shelter from the rain.

 But there was no answer.
 The room is dusty and the building is in disrepair.

 Maybe it's an unused church.

 She walks towards the altar.

 I decided to stay here for a while, waiting for the rain to abate.

 She has an umbrella with her, and while the rain legs are strong, it's not so strong that she can't make it home.

 But there's one problem.
 Isabella doesn't like the sound of the rain.

 It reminds her of something she doesn't like.

 Very, very bad things.

 When she's with someone else, she doesn't mind, but when she's alone, she can't understand why she's crying.

 I can't remember anything in my memory.

 But I can't help but feel sad.

 I can wish and wish, but I can't reach the things that are important to me.
 Such baseless thoughts swirled in the back of my mind.

''........this place.......sounds a bit.......''

 The sound of rain echoed loudly in the room, probably because the building was old and sore.

 Isabella crouched down, put her umbrella on the floor and put her hands over her ears.

 She waited patiently for the rain to stop.

 Even if she covered her ears, she could hear it slightly.

 The sound of rain bouncing off the roof, bouncing off puddles of water and wetting the ground.

 As she cowered and endured it, she heard a cat's mewling mingling with it.

 A furry blue cat and a vermillion cat jumped in through the window.
 For some reason, the vermillion cat had an umbrella in its mouth.

''Wait, hey, wait, wait, wait!''

 The door is thrown open with a bang and a drenched man rushes into the church.

 He is tall and stocky, and if he were silent, he would be fearless.
 But his expression, as if he were aiming at his prey, has a certain drollness to it.

 He was a young Gusta.

 He must have lost his umbrella to a cat.
 He struggled to chase the cat as it ran away, meowing and mewling.

 Then he cornered it to the corner of the wall.
 With arms outstretched and fingers wandering about, he says, "Huh.

'Huh. Sorry, but this is the end of the chase with you, man.

 As soon as the cat started to run, Gusta jumped on it with great vigor.

'Run away, Uryaaaah!

 Reaching out as far as he could, Gusta grabbed the umbrella for sure.

 Immediately after, he hit his head against the wall with a momentum that was too much.


 Gusta cowered and writhed in agony.

 Isabella watched the scene with dismay.

 Ugh, a cry of anguish escapes him.
 Next, the pain recedes, or he stumbles up.

 Slowly, he turned around, and as he did so, his gaze met with Isabella, who was crying.



 They both spoke at the same time.

 Silence for a few seconds.

 Gusta awkwardly held out the handkerchief she took out of her bag to wipe herself, and then, awkwardly, offered it to Isabella.


Yeah, no, I mean,

 He tightened his expression and said.

'Pretty girls don't look good in tears, you know.

 Isabella rolls her eyes.

'Haha, nah, what a joke.

 Seeing Gusta frightened like that, her tears stopped in a flash.

 Isabella laughed.
 Gusta's gaze is drawn to that smile.

''Oh, um, this........''

Thank you.

 Gusta handed the handkerchief to Isabella.
 Their fingertips touched faintly.

 Outside the window glowed with a flourish, delayed for a moment, and a loud thunderclap pierced their ears.

 It was raining.

 It didn't stop, and it never stopped.

 Isabella hated the sound of the rain, and every time she heard it, she felt helplessly sad.


 She could no longer hear it now.

 Its caustic thunderclap blows away the sound of rain and echoes in her heart.

'I'll give you that,'

Yeah, but...

It's cheap. Bye.

 Gusta waved his hand and turned on his heel.

 Slowly, his back moved away.

 No, Isabella thought.

 I have to go after him.
 I can't lose him.

 For some reason, vaguely, she was thinking about that.

 But she didn't know what to do, she didn't know what to do.
 I just couldn't find the words to say what to say to stop her.

 All I can think of is that if she didn't call out to him, he would leave without looking back.

 It's been that way for a long, long time.
 She didn't even know why she felt that way, but she had that feeling.

 He's the one who doesn't wait for me.

 As if driven by the urge, she stepped forward with her trembling legs as hard as she could.

 It was then.
 He opened the door and looked back at Isabella.

'Uh, um...'

 Shyly, Gusta said.

'Sweetheart. Which way to the house, which way?


Taking shelter from the rain, right? If you're in a hurry, do you want to come in?

 Saying that, Gusta pointed to his own umbrella.


 For a moment she looks at the umbrella on the floor.
 Pushing it with her foot, she hides it in the shadows.

''Well ... yeah ... umbrella ... no ...''

 Isabella walks over to Gusta.

 She struggles to think of something more to say, she thinks to herself.

 But she couldn't think of anything witty to say.

 She came to Gusta's side, and in her haste, she blurted out.

''.........This........this isn't a pickup, is it?''

No, you idiot, idiot, what are you talking about?

 Understandably, Gusta expressed his agitation.
 His ulterior motive was evident.

I don't mean to brag, but I haven't talked to a girl in my entire life!

 Isabella scowled.
 Then she laughs softly.

 That angelic smile causes Gusta to gaze blankly at her again.

I'm over there. Are you okay?

 Isabella points in the direction of her home.

'Oh, oh. I'm just over there too.

 Isabella entered the umbrella that Gusta had spread out and Isabella was reserved.

 The rainfall had weakened a bit more than before.

'But you look like you're used to it.

 Isabella gives a teasing smile as she walks in the rain under a shared umbrella.

'Wha, what?'


Yeah, that's it. That's it. I can't count the number of times I've had to practice in my brain!

Just practice?

Well, you know what I mean. Well, that's what it's all about, isn't it? It's just a dashing way to get a guy to go out with you in a flash of lightning, you know?

 Isabella hmmm and ponders.
 She wasn't sure about the man's romance.

'You mean a romantic encounter?'

Yeah, that's it. Well, but when you're in front of a pretty girl, you're so terrified of her that you can't even get a word in edgewise. Haha.

 Seeing him lightly laughing off his pettiness, for some reason Isabella laughed too.

 I wonder why.
 It's the first time they've met, but it doesn't feel like the first time.

 She thought of it like that, and the words naturally poked out of her mouth.

'Well, do you want to practice picking up girls as a thank you?'

 Gusta rolled her eyes.
 She pointed to herself.

'By me,'


 The tremendous bite was more surprising to Isabella, who suggested it.

 If it was a normal girl, she might have been a donkey.
 But she was kind of happy about it.

'Yeah, seriously.'

I was scared of the lightning.

 With a nihilistic, ennui-infused vibe, Gusta says.

 From the very beginning, he went all out, full throttle from the very beginning.
 The overflowing delusional pickup had already begun.

'It's disgusting to be a man and afraid of thunder. That's why I've never told anyone.

 Like playing the shady man, Gusta said.
 'Weird,' asked Isabella, thinking.

'Why are you scared?'

I think I'm the reincarnation of Master Thunder.

 Isabella couldn't help but gush.

 I've been hit on by a lot of guys before, but I've never heard them complain like that.

'He's a thundering jerk. Jagged and bilious, he hurt everyone he touched.

 It was interesting, so Isabella decided to ask for the rest of the story.

'Right. So?

I mean, what's the point?

 Gusta looked up at the sky and stared at the rain clouds.

 Pretending to be pretentious, he says

'I think every time I hear thunder, I remember it and I feel self-hatred, or maybe I'm afraid I'm going to go back to my old self again. 'But,'

 For a moment the sky in the distance glowed, and a thunderclap roared loudly.

'I don't know why, but I was fine earlier.

 Staring straight at the thunder, Gusta's eyes narrowed.

'It was thundering, but all I could hear was the gentle sound of rain. The thunder that's been echoing in my head for so long, it felt like it finally stopped ringing...

 The words spontaneously spill out of his mouth.

'He said he'd been waiting for this day...'

 Isabella stops.

 Gusta stops too.

'Oh no, what am I saying...'


 Isabella shook her head quietly.

''I know ... I know ... I've been ... too ...''

 Isabella's gaze was sucked into his eyes.

 I knew I couldn't tell anyone this stupid thing.
 I thought anyone would laugh it off.

 But if it was this person--

The rain has stopped. Ever since I met you.


 He looked back at Isabella gently as she looked up at him.

'You know, earlier. So, normally I'd be too scared to talk to you, but this time I knew I would definitely regret it if I didn't talk to you...

 A warm feeling overflows.

'Hey, I know you might think I'm crazy for saying this, but...'

I don't think I've seen you before, do you?

 I wonder why.
 Without knowing what it meant, Isabella nodded her head in a persistent way, feeling like she was about to cry.


 Really, I don't know what's wrong with me.

 I thought we had never met before.

 I don't know why.
 His words resonate with me so much.

"Do you think there is such a thing as fate?

 I'm so glad to hear such a commonplace pickup line.

 I wanted to hear more, more, more.

 I wanted more, more, more.

 Those words, like it was nothing, came from his mouth.

'If it was meant to be, when would it be?'


 Listening to the sound of the rain falling, Gusta quietly opens his mouth.

''I knew it... since I was born...''


Yeah, no, it was meant to be, since before I was born, about 2,000 years ago.

Two thousand years ago?

No, no, no. Much, much, much longer ago--

 The sky flickered with lightning bolts.

 Gusta's eyes, tinted purple for a moment, stared at her, very gently.

'I've been waiting for you for seven hundred million years,'

 A drop of water spilled out of Isabella's eyes.

 There was a girl who kept watching over the battle of the ghosts, who had nothing to say.

 She dreamed of a commonplace home and peaceful days, of giving birth to a kind and healthy child, but she fell in love with the ghost and left it all behind.

 With this feeling, she said, she didn't need anything.

 All she wanted was the peace that she had fought for.

 But there was still one thing she couldn't give up.
 There was one thing she could not give up.

 The ghosts did not speak--.

 He can't say anything.

 I know.
 You don't have to say it, I know how he feels.

 I know how he feels.

 I told myself that over and over again, but I still felt uneasy for a long time.

 Did he really love me?

 It was just a single word that I was dying to hear in my last moments.

 At the very end, I had an unfulfilled dream.

 But now, after a long, long time.

I've always loved you.

 It's just that--

I've been waiting for you for a long time, too...

 Here, at last, it had come true.