Nobody ever warned Adrian that after four months of slaying Cursed Spirits, dodging federal surveillance, and harboring a Special Grade entity, his hardest fight in this universe would be against the electric company.
"It's not that we can't pay it," Sophia said, slapping a stack of bills onto the kitchen table. Her voice held that dangerous, controlled calm of someone who had recalculated the same depressing numbers three times in a row.
"It's just that paying it on time makes rent tight. And paying rent on time means the electric bill slides another two weeks." She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. "I am so sick of this specific loop, Adrian."
Of all the enemies he expected to face... utility bills were not on the list.
"I can pick up a shift somewhere," Adrian offered, though he already knew how weak the idea sounded. "Something during the day that doesn't overlap with my patrols."
Sophia scoffed softly. "You barely sleep as it is. Adding a day job on top of monster hunting isn't a solution—it's a fast track to you collapsing in a dark alley."
She sighed, the exhaustion carved into her features tightening slightly. "I took an extra shift on Saturday. It covers the gap. I just needed to vent before fixing it like an adult."
"I'm sorry," Adrian said quietly. "You shouldn't be carrying all the financial weight."
"It's not a competition, Hayes," Sophia said, her tone softening. "You bleed out there to protect the city. I keep the lights on so you have a home to come back to.They are both different jobs. And exhausting. So let's not keep score."
The real fight didn't happen over money. It happened three days later over a jacket.
Sophia found it while doing laundry—holding up the ruined denim sleeve like evidence in a court case. Three parallel slashes ripped through the fabric, crusted with dark, dried blood along the shoulder.
"When were you planning on telling me about this?" she asked. Her concern had already sharpened into anger.
"It's just a jacket," Adrian tried.
"It's shredded, Adrian! Three claw marks!" She threw the jacket onto the table between them. "You said Tuesday's patrol was quiet. You said—and I quote—'nothing worth mentioning.'"
Busted.
"It wasn't a big deal—"
"Not your call!" Sophia snapped, her voice cracking with real anger. "We had a deal, Hayes. Full truth. No alternates versions just because you think I can't handle it. After the pack fight? After Ruth? After every single time I had to guess how close you came to dying by counting your bandages?"
Adrian flinched. He looked at the torn jacket, the reality of her words hitting harder than a Curse's strike.
"I didn't want you lying awake every night calculating my survival odds," he admitted, the honesty costing him more than he expected. "If I tell you every close call and every near-miss, you're going to spend every night terrified. I thought I was protecting you."
"You aren't protecting me. You're deciding and controlling what I'm allowed to handle," Sophia shot back, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I sat in a hospital waiting room during Anomaly Zero not knowing if you were ever going to wake up. I can handle the dangerous truth, Adrian. What I can't handle is you lying to my face."
The heavy silence stretched long between them.
She's right, Adrian thought. Hiding the danger isn't protecting her. It's just isolating myself.
"You're right," Adrian said softly, taking a breath. "I'll tell you everything. Even the stuff that scares me."
Sophia crossed her arms, though the tension in her shoulders relaxed a fraction. "Tuesday. What actually happened?"
"Grade 2 Curse," Adrian confessed, meeting her eyes directly. "There was a territorial dispute over a den site. It was faster than I expected and landed three solid strikes before I put it down. Sorry... I lied because I won, and I told myself winning meant the details didn't matter."
He let out a quiet exhale. "It scared the hell out of me. There."
Sophia stared at him for a long moment before letting out a long breath of her own. "Thank you. That's all I want. Just the truth, even when it's ugly."
They settled back into an easier rhythm over dinner that night.
Sophia complained about a diner customer who tried to pay for a burger entirely in nickels as a "protest against menu inflation." Adrian, keeping his promise, gave her the full, unvarnished play-by-play of Tuesday's fight—the sudden strike, the close dodge, and the icy spike of adrenaline when the claws grazed his ribs.
"See?" Sophia said, handing him a wet plate to dry. "That wasn't so hard."
"Harder than fighting the Curse, honestly," Adrian muttered, wiping the dish down.
"I'm proud of you, Hayes," she said softly, giving his arm a brief squeeze. "It takes guts to be honest when it's uncomfortable."
Some days, it really does.
Adrian looked around their small, cluttered kitchen. The System, transmigration, ancient sorcerers, and Cursed Energy—none of it prepared him for this part of life. The unglamorous, quiet work of keeping two ordinary lives grounded in an extraordinary world.
"Sophia," he said.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. For everything. The bills, the bandages, calling me out when I'm being an idiot."
Sophia flicked a spray of soapy water at his face with a smirk, breaking the solemn weight of the moment. "Don't get soft on me now. Keep drying. Saving the city doesn't excuse you from kitchen duty."