The night was deep, and Kael lay in bed, but he had no sleepiness.
Sirin's question tonight, "If you can only save one," was like a tiny thorn, pricking his heart and preventing him from finding complete peace.
He understood her unease, but he didn't know how to completely dispel the fear rooted in thirteen years of separation. As he was lost in thought, a very light knock sounded on the bedroom door.
"Brother? Are you asleep?" It was Sirin's voice, with a hint of cautious probing.
Kael sat up: "Not yet, come in."
The door was pushed open a crack, and Sirin poked her head in. She had already changed into soft pajamas, her long purple hair was loose, and she was holding a pillow in her arms.
Her golden eyes appeared exceptionally bright in the dim light, with a touch of hesitation and anticipation.
"I... I still can't sleep very well."
She said softly, her gaze wandering, "Brother... can you... tell me a bedtime story, like before?"
"A bedtime story?"
Kael was stunned for a moment, looking at the graceful S-Rank Valkyrie in front of him, finding it hard to connect her with a little girl who needed stories to fall asleep.
But seeing the age-inappropriate longing in her eyes, stemming from the past, his heart instantly softened. Perhaps what she needed wasn't the story itself, but the feeling of being cherished and cared for, the ritualistic confirmation that some things hadn't changed.
He moved over on the bed, patted the empty space beside him, and said gently, "Okay, come here."
Sirin's eyes instantly lit up, as if she had received a great favor. She immediately climbed onto the bed with her pillow, lay down obediently beside him, and even pulled up the covers herself, only her bright eyes peeking out, looking at him expectantly.
Kael leaned against the headboard, trying to search his memory. Thirteen years had passed, and many details had become blurry, but some things were like engravings deep in his soul.
He looked at the sparse starlight outside the window, pondered for a moment, and then slowly began, his voice deep and soothing, as if carrying the dust of time:
"A long, long time ago, in a very distant, very vast starry sky, there was a very, very small star. It wasn't as bright and dazzling as other stars, always quietly staying in its own corner, watching the bustling big stars around it..."
He had just started when he felt Sirin's body stiffen slightly.
Kael continued speaking, his thoughts also seemingly drifting back to that simple yet warm dormitory, to the little purple-haired girl who would snuggle in his arms and only fall asleep listening to stories.
"...The little star was very lonely. It felt that no one noticed it, and no one liked it. Until one day, a lost little spaceship passed by. The little spaceship saw this quiet little star and thought that even though it wasn't bright, it was very special, very gentle. The little spaceship didn't rush to leave, but stopped next to the little star, accompanying it, telling it all sorts of interesting things it had seen during its travels in the universe..."
His voice was unhurried, describing the starry sky, the spaceship, and the little star that was gradually no longer lonely.
The story was simple, even a bit childish, but it was full of warm companionship.
Sirin listened quietly, without interrupting.
But Kael could feel that the hand gripping his clothes was trembling slightly.
He looked down, and in the faint light filtering through the window, he saw that Sirin's golden eyes were, at some point, filled with tears, silently streaming down her cheeks and soaking the pillow.
"...Later, the little spaceship told the little star, 'Look, you are not alone. This starry sky is very, very big, and there will always be a place for you, and there will always be... someone willing to accompany you.'"
Kael finished the last sentence, sighed softly, and raised his hand to wipe away her tears with his thumb, "What's wrong? Was the story too boring?"
Sirin shook her head vigorously, her voice choked, almost unable to form a complete sentence: "No... it's... it's this story... Brother... you... you still remember..."
She suddenly sat up and threw herself into Kael's arms, hugging him tightly, tears gushing out like a broken dam: "It's that story... exactly the same as the one you told me thirteen years ago... the first time you coaxed me to sleep... I thought... I thought you had forgotten long ago..."
So that's how it was.
Kael realized it with a jolt, followed by a bittersweet warmth.
He gently patted her back and whispered, "How could I forget? It's just that some things are remembered more deeply."
He hadn't deliberately tried to remember it; it had simply surfaced in his mind naturally on that night when he needed to comfort a little girl, as if it had never left.
Now, telling it again, even he felt a touch of surprise that he still remembered those details.
"Brother..."
Sirin looked up in his arms, her eyes tear-filled, but with an immense joy and relief of something lost and found again, "So... you never forgot..."
She said this very softly, but it struck Kael's heart heavily.
He understood that for her, this story was not just a story, but a symbol of their connection, proof that he had not been eroded by time.
"No, I didn't forget."
Kael gently guided her back onto the bed, covering her with the blanket, his movements soft, "Alright, the story is finished, time to sleep. Tomorrow... if you still want to hear one, I'll tell you another."
Sirin nodded vigorously, tears still on her face, but she wore an incredibly bright, cloudless smile, just like the little girl thirteen years ago who had finally felt a touch of warmth.
She held Kael's hand tightly, closed her eyes, and her breathing gradually became even and long.
This time, she seemed truly at peace.
Kael looked at her serene sleeping profile, his heart a mix of emotions.
He maintained the position with his hand held by hers, leaning against the headboard, and slowly closed his eyes as well.