***I hope you all had a wonderful New Year's Eve and a great New Year. Let's start off 2026 right. May you all have a wonderful year.***
The first light of dawn crept through the canopy, staining the edges of the forest in pale gold. Birds began their tentative morning calls, and the cold mist of night clung low to the ground.
On a flat stone beneath the trees, two figures sat together. Helios' head rested lightly against Skuld's shoulder, his breath shallow but even. The blood had dried along his coat, dark patches across his side, yet he looked almost peaceful for once. Skuld had drifted as well, her Keyblade gone, her hand still resting near his. The night's confessions hung unspoken between them, a fragile thread of connection woven from grief and understanding.
But peace was never meant to last.
Soft footsteps pressed into the soil. A presence stirred the air.
From the shadows at the tree line, Kurai emerged. Her mere presence whispered with darkness, the dawn light catching faintly on the silver strands of her hair. She moved soundlessly until she stood over the two.
Her eyes lingered.
For a long moment, she simply stared down at them—Helios leaning against Skuld, Skuld's head tipped slightly toward him. The faintest crease formed at the edge of Kurai's brow. She lifted her hand slowly, darkness coiling around her fingers, twisting and pulsing like a living flame.
Her gaze sharpened, cold, cutting. She reached out, fingers cloaked in shadow, drifting toward Skuld's exposed throat.
The air chilled, the kind of cold that carried death with it.
But at the last instant, the darkness dissolved into nothing, curling away into the breeze. Kurai's hand touched nothing. Instead, she nudged Helios' shoulder sharply.
He stirred, blinking slowly awake, one eye narrowing against the early sun. When his gaze rose and met hers, a faint smile tugged across his lips.
"…Good morning," he murmured, voice low, quiet enough not to wake Skuld.
Kurai said nothing. She only pointed at Skuld, still asleep, her hand lowering.
Helios' smile deepened into something amused. "Ah. I see."
Carefully, he shifted, slipping an arm under Skuld's legs and the other behind her back. With a grunt of effort, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her with surprising steadiness given his wounds. Skuld murmured faintly in her sleep but did not stir.
Kurai swept her hand through the air, and a dark corridor bloomed open. Shadows rippled outward, swallowing the trees and dawn. The three of them stepped through and emerged into the familiar halls of the mansion.
The corridor snapped shut behind them, cutting off the forest as though it had never been.
Helios carried Skuld down the corridor to his room, nudging the door open with his shoulder. He laid her gently onto his bed, pulling the blanket up to her chest. She shifted slightly, curling into the pillow, but did not wake.
When Helios turned, Kurai was already there.
She moved close, her hand rising to press against his chest. Her touch was cool, her eyes searching, their blue depths sharp as steel.
"There's something different about you," she said.
Helios tilted his head, his smirk resurfacing despite the ache in his ribs. "Different?"
"Yes." Her tone was flat, her gaze unflinching. "You feel lighter than before."
He chuckled, low and rough. "Well, I did lose some blood last night. Maybe a pound or two. Not enough to notice, though."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You know what I mean."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then her gaze flicked toward the bed, toward Skuld sleeping soundly beneath the sheets.
"Does it have to do with her?"
The smirk faltered. Helios' humor softened, the sharp edge dulled. He leaned back slightly, drawing in a careful breath before answering.
"She was hurting," he said. His voice carried none of its usual polish or sarcasm, just quiet honesty. "So I shared some of my pain with her. Let her see the weight I carry. It made her feel less alone. And… somehow, it made me feel better too."
Kurai's eyes lingered on him, studying, dissecting, as if searching for weakness. Her hand pressed just slightly harder against his chest.
"Did it change your mind?" she asked, her tone sharp.
Helios met her gaze squarely. And then he smiled—not the cocky grin, not the mocking smirk, but something quieter, steadier.
"No," he said.
For a moment, the two of them stood locked in silence, shadows and dawn light spilling unevenly across the room. Kurai's expression didn't change, but something unreadable flickered beneath her cold exterior before she pulled her hand back.
Helios turned, pulling a chair from the corner and sinking into it heavily. "Don't look at me like that. I'm still me." He closed his eyes briefly. "Still chasing the same future. Nothing will ever change that."
Kurai's gaze shifted once more to Skuld. The girl slept peacefully, her breathing soft and even. Kurai's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes unreadable.
"She makes you weaker," Kurai said at last.
Helios opened one eye, his smirk returning faintly. "Or maybe she makes me stronger. Hard to say. But either way—" He leaned his head back against the chair. "—I'm not letting go of either of you just yet."
Kurai's brow twitched, the faintest crease of irritation—or perhaps something else entirely. She turned sharply and walked to the door.
"Rest," she said flatly. "Your body still hasn't fully healed. Don't push it too hard or you'll be useless to me."
Helios chuckled softly, eyes closing again. "You almost sound like you care."
She didn't answer. The door shut quietly behind her.
Helios let out a long breath, his eyes drifting back toward the sleeping figure on the bed. For once, the smirk faded entirely. His expression softened into something tired, something almost peaceful.
The sun climbed higher, spilling gold through the curtains. And for a rare, fleeting moment, the mansion felt still.