"I gave him power, not affection. That... wasn't supposed to happen." —Lysaria
Nightfall – Sector 15 Outskirts
The rain had a rhythm to it—a soft, steady percussion on the tin rooftop of the safehouse. I sat by the broken window, staring out into the murky cityscape. Somewhere out there, divine contracts were being signed, slaves were being dragged into battle, and gods were playing chess with human lives.
But all I could think about was the look Eve gave me after the last mission. And the silence from Lysaria.
She hadn't said a word.
Not when I got back, bleeding and laughing. Not when I collapsed into bed with a bruised ego. Not even when I tried to joke about getting banned from the Vault of Records forever.
The silence was... unbearable.
So, naturally, I decided to fix it the only way I knew how:
Do something stupid.
Rooftop – Ten Minutes Later
She was there.
Of course she was.
Lysaria stood on the rooftop like she belonged to the night—her silver hair damp from the rain, her white robe clinging to her form, glowing faintly in the dark.
She didn't turn when I climbed up.
"Hey," I said. "Nice weather for brooding. Ten out of ten ambiance."
Nothing.
I stuffed my hands in my jacket. "Look, I know I screwed up. But in my defense, divine alarms are super sensitive. I barely touched the sacred database."
Still no answer.
"I mean, who puts a trigger spell on a filing cabinet? That's just overkill."
Finally, she spoke.
"You could have died."
Her voice was quiet. Too quiet.
"Yeah, well," I replied, scratching the back of my head, "almost dying is kind of my Tuesday thing now."
She turned.
And the look in her eyes?
It shut me up fast.
"Do you think this is a game, Kaito?" she asked. "Do you think you're unbreakable?"
"No," I said. "But I think I'm learning to bounce."
"You're not immortal."
"Neither are you."
We stared at each other. Her shoulders dropped, just slightly.
"You were supposed to be a vessel," she said. "A body to channel divine power. An expendable partner."
I raised an eyebrow. "Flattering."
"I didn't mean for you to matter."
I took a step closer. "But I do."
She looked away. "Yes. And that's the problem."
"You confuse me, Kaito," she said. "You insult gods, flirt with death, and treat missions like playgrounds. But you never run. Never falter."
I shrugged. "If I start taking things seriously, I might realize how badly I'm screwed."
She laughed, soft and short.
"You should take more seriously the fact that you've become important to me."
I blinked.
"Say that again? But slower. And maybe with violins."
She stepped forward. "This is not a joke."
"Then why does it feel like one?"
She touched my chest, where the divine sigil pulsed beneath my shirt.
"Because you're human," she whispered. "And I'm not."
I placed my hand over hers.
"So what? You gave me power. Maybe you didn't mean to give me your attention, or your care... but here we are."
"I'm not supposed to care."
"You do."
She didn't deny it.
An hour later, we were walking through a ruined park.
The vines had overtaken everything. Benches were cracked, lamp posts flickering, cherry blossom trees growing wild.
She walked beside me, arms loosely folded.
"You call this a date?"
I held up two warm canned coffees I salvaged from a working vending machine. "We got drinks. Moonlight. Privacy. That's at least a B-tier date."
She took the can.
"I don't eat or drink mortal things."
"Yeah, well," I cracked mine open, "tonight, you're breaking rules."
She hesitated. Then took a sip. Then grimaced.
"Too sweet."
"Like me."
"You're more bitter than burnt coffee."
I grinned. "Still counts."
We sat at a bench under one of the still-blooming trees.
"Do you ever miss it?" I asked. "Being up there? Surrounded by light, power, and all those uppity winged people?"
She shook her head.
"I miss nothing. Except... silence."
"I can be quiet."
She gave me a sideways glance.
"For five seconds."
We sat in silence. For six.
"New record," I said.
She leaned back.
"You changed me, Kaito."
"Hopefully for the better."
"I don't know yet."
I nodded slowly.
"Well, change is good. Growth, you know? Like my hair. You ever think about what you'd be like if you were just... normal?"
She thought for a long time.
"No. I wouldn't know how."
"Maybe you don't have to know. Maybe... you just live it."
"With you?"
I looked at her.
"Only if you want the worst wingman in existence."
She actually laughed this time.
Not a goddess laugh. A real, human one.
As we stood to leave, she stopped and touched my arm.
"Kaito... don't make me regret this."
I looked into her eyes.
"You won't. Unless you hate bad jokes."
"I do."
"Then you're screwed."
She rolled her eyes. But didn't let go of my arm.
We walked side by side into the night.
The goddess who shouldn't love... just might.