That morning's theology lesson felt longer than usual. The teacher's voice echoed like a chant through stone halls: calm, steady, and almost completely monotone for the entire hour. Most of the students took notes diligently, their faces solemn like every word was a golden ticket to heaven.
Exu doodled in her notebook.
Not because she didn't understand—it just all sounded too perfect to be real. Every rule felt like a slogan from a shiny ad claiming their product was sin-free.
She drew a pair of wings in the corner of the page. But not Sankta wings. Tiny wings shaped like fan blades, then added a pair of tired feet and a frowning face in the middle. Underneath, she wrote:
"A Sankta who's tired of following all the rules."
Someone gently tapped her shoulder.
Mostima slid a small folded note onto Exu's desk. She didn't say anything—just gave a quick nod and went back to her seat in the back. Exu opened the note slowly.
"Come to the rooftop after class. Let's kill the boredom."
Exu held back a smile. Not because the invitation was anything grand—but because it felt refreshing. Since arriving in Laterano, everyone had acted too proper. Mostima felt like a fun little glitch in all this holiness.
The Laterano school rooftop wasn't that high, but high enough to see nearly half the city. Church domes, white streets, clean parks—it all looked neat and organized, like a living scale model.
Mostima sat on the stone edge, legs dangling, one hand holding her up, the other gripping a half-eaten red apple.
"You came," she said without looking.
"Kinda quiet up here," Exu replied, sitting beside her.
"Yeah. Sankta kids are usually scared of this place. They say it's too close to the sky—their halos might overheat."
Exu let out a soft laugh. "Are they serious?"
Mostima shrugged. "Maybe they believe it. Or maybe it's just an excuse to stay polite."
They sat in silence for a moment. The breeze lightly brushed against Exu's wings, making them shift a little.
Mostima glanced sideways. "Still not used to them?"
"My wings?"
"Yeah."
Exu nodded. "A bit. They tickle. But it's not that bad."
"When mine first came in, I couldn't sleep. Every time I turned over, they twitched."
Exu turned to her. "Seriously?"
"Dead serious. Thought I was possessed or something."
They laughed again. Not long after, footsteps echoed from the stairwell.
"Mostima!"
Fiammetta appeared at the rooftop entrance, face unreadable. Her eyes went straight to Exu, then back to Mostima.
"You're here again?"
"Relax, Fia. I'm not jumping."
Fiammetta walked toward them with firm, deliberate steps. Not rushing—but with pressure in every movement.
"This isn't a place to hang out," she said.
"We're just sitting," Exu replied. "Not having a wing race or anything."
Fiammetta stared at her. Her gaze was sharp—but not angry. More like… measuring her.
"You make friends fast."
Exu gave a light nod. "If I don't talk to anyone, I'll get bored."
Mostima stood and brushed some dust off her uniform. "Don't worry, Fia. She's a good kid."
Fiammetta turned her eyes to Mostima. "You're not."
"That's exactly why I know who's good—and who just looks good."
They returned to class without much conversation. But as Exu sat down, she felt something had shifted. Fiammetta might not like her yet—but she was watching now. And Mostima... somehow, already felt like a friend.
That night, back home, Exu lay in bed staring out the window. Lemuen had already fallen asleep, after reminding her not to sneak out and tucking her in with extra softness, as always.
Outside, the stars were faint—washed out by the glow of the city.
Exu sighed quietly.
She hadn't done anything big today. No saving lives. No changing the future.
But she laughed. And someone noticed her—not because of rules, but out of curiosity.
And for now... that was enough.