Chapter 91 - Wish Kiss

  After indulging in a luxurious meal, we made our way to the cruise ship’s lavish casino, its golden chandeliers casting a warm glow over the sea of green-felt tables and the rhythmic clatter of roulette wheels. Just as I was about to slide into a seat at one of the poker tables alongside the seasoned gamblers, Myrrh stepped forward and casually claimed the player’s chair.

  “Hey, let me play this one. Just sit there and tutor me,” she said, tapping the seat beside her with an air of confidence.

  I blinked. “A-Are you sure? Have you even played poker before?”

  Myrrh leaned back, crossing her arms, her lips curling into a smug smile. “I’ve watched some online. And don’t you remember? I was your dealer against a certain cyber terrorist.”

  The memory hit me like a flickering reel of film—our encounter with Ismail Arondight, the infamous hacker from the Neo Terrestrial Reich. Myrrh had been the one to deal the cards in that high-stakes game, her hands steady, her gaze unshaken. Maybe she didn’t need tutoring after all.

  Before I could say anything, Myrrh nonchalantly pulled out her hard-case wallet. With a smooth flick of her fingers, she spread out a handful of crisp bills. “Don’t worry, I’ve been saving up for this.” Then, with an almost theatrical flair, she pressed a tightly wound roll of cash into my palm. “Go exchange these for chips, will you?”

  I let out a dry chuckle, weighing the money in my hand. “You really came prepared for this, huh?”

  Myrrh’s smirk deepened, a playful glint in her eyes. “Let’s just say I wanted to feel the same thrill you always had back in high school.” She gave me a light nudge. “Now go! Get me my chips!”

  I made my way to the casino counter, exchanging Myrrh’s cash for a stack of polished poker chips that clinked softly in my hands. The weight of them felt significant, like the promise of fortune—or disaster—depending on how this night played out. As I returned to the poker table, the air was thick with cigar smoke and the murmurs of seasoned gamblers placing their bets.

  As the dealer began shuffling and dealing the cards, I caught several older players sneering at Myrrh, their smirks laced with condescension. A young, fresh-faced girl sitting at their table? They clearly assumed she was an easy mark. And to be fair, Myrrh was new to this kind of gambling. I knew I had to guide her.

  Leaning in, I whispered, “Always watch your opponents’ faces, Myrrh. Pay attention to their mannerisms—the way their eyebrows twitch, the tension in their smiles. Every little movement could be a tell.”

  “Oh, okay,” Myrrh murmured, nodding as she studied her cards. Without hesitation, she pushed a stack of chips forward, her eyes gleaming with determination. “It’s all or nothing!”

  At first, I thought she was just being reckless. But then, something incredible happened. Hand after hand, Myrrh started winning. She absorbed the nuances of the game at an alarming rate, identifying bluffs and spotting real threats with surgical precision. It wasn’t just luck—she calculated probabilities, analyzed patterns, and adjusted her strategy on the fly.

  The more she won, the more the older players’ confidence wavered. Their dismissive grins turned into frustrated scowls. Some folded early, wary of the yellow-green-haired girl who had suddenly become the biggest threat at the table.

  By the time the clock struck ten, a mountain of poker chips stood in front of Myrrh, a glittering testament to her newfound skill.

  I stared at the massive pile, rubbing the back of my neck. “W-Whoa… You really are a Mary Sue. You actually won all that on your first try?”

  Myrrh smirked, crossing her arms triumphantly. “Hmph. This is just a basic skill. No wonder you always win.”

  “Okay, okay, no need to brag,” I said with a sigh, then glanced longingly at her towering stack of winnings. “Man… I wish I had played, too. I’m kinda jealous of how rich you are now.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll give you half of it,” Myrrh said with an angelic smile, her green eyes shimmering with mischief. “Consider it payment for teaching me how to read faces and cards.”

  “Really?” I gasped, hardly believing my luck.

  Myrrh tapped her chin, reconsidering. “On second thought… maybe I’ll just give you a quarter.” She flicked a chip between her fingers absentmindedly. “This should be enough to cover my mom’s medical expenses for the next two months.”

  Then, as if catching herself, she let out a small chuckle. “But then again, this is technically dirty money, isn’t it? Maybe I should just use it for my daily expenses instead. This might cover my Sammelplatz Pizza addiction until the end of the term.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  I raised an eyebrow. “If it’s dirty, why not spend some of it on entertainment while we’re here? It’s not like we’ll get another chance to live it up on a cruise ship like this.”

  Myrrh’s face lit up with realization, and she clapped her hands together. “Oh! That’s right! I just thought of something we have to buy to properly greet the Xyraxis New Year!”

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  In the end, I only received a quarter of what Myrrh originally promised. She set aside another quarter as her hard-earned savings, while the rest went into something far more extravagant—sparklers. Thousands of them. Myrrh, in her boundless enthusiasm, made sure that every single person aboard the cruise ship received at least one.

  What started as an impromptu idea quickly turned into a spectacle. The space cruise ship’s itinerary never mentioned a grand sparkler display, yet no one seemed to mind. When word spread, the passengers embraced the plan wholeheartedly, agreeing to light them up the moment the clock struck midnight for the Xyraxis New Year. Laughter and excitement filled the air, and Myrrh became the unexpected star of the night, praised for her generosity.

  Now, at 11:55 PM—just five minutes before the turn of the year—we had finally finished distributing the last of the sparklers. Myrrh and I found ourselves at the very peak of the ship, sitting on the balcony of the topmost tower, the highest point where one could watch the celebrations unfold below. The view stretched endlessly, the vastness of space blending into the neon glow of Xyraxis’s floating cities in the distance.

  Exhausted from all the running around, we leaned back against the cool metal railing, catching our breath. In our hands were glasses of lemonade, spiked with just enough liquor to make the moment feel warm and slow.

  “Hey, hey, Zaft,” Myrrh nudged me gently with her elbow. Her voice carried the kind of excitement that made me brace myself for whatever she was about to say next. “Did you know? They say that when midnight strikes, whatever you wish for will come true.”

  I let out a soft chuckle. “For a futuristic cyberpunk planet like Xyraxis, that sounds pretty superstitious.”

  Myrrh smiled, her expression softer than usual. “That’s why it’s special. It’s a symbol of hope and love. That’s why people kiss at midnight, you know.” Her voice was almost dreamy, laced with something I couldn’t quite decipher.

  “I see,” I muttered, suddenly aware of the space between us.

  A silence settled over us—not uncomfortable, but heavy in a way I hadn’t expected. The only sounds were the distant echoes of celebration, the murmurs of passengers preparing for the countdown, and the faint crackling of early sparklers flickering to life across the ship.

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

  Five full seconds of silence stretched between us. I turned to glance at Myrrh and felt my breath hitch. Her blue eyes shimmered, reflecting the golden glow of the sparklers below and the endless stars above. The universe itself seemed to dance in her gaze.

  She must have noticed me staring because she turned her head, meeting my eyes.

  And for some reason—some inexplicable, overwhelming reason—my heart skipped a beat. A sharp, sudden jolt, like a spark from the countless ones flickering in the night. I had never felt my chest tighten like this before, never felt my pulse hammer against my ribs so violently. The sensation was foreign, yet strangely intoxicating.

  I knew if I stayed quiet, the moment would only grow more awkward. So, I let my thoughts spill out.

  “…Thank you, Myrrh,” I muttered.

  She blinked, tilting her head. “Hm? For what?”

  I exhaled, forcing out a small laugh. “Well… you’ve been looking after me these past few days, haven’t you? You probably got annoyed with me being such a burden, but you still stuck around.” I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly self-conscious. “Maybe you were right about me being so hopeless… Haha.”

  Myrrh’s eyes softened, the blue reflecting something deeper—something tender. Then, just as suddenly, a faint pink dusted her cheeks.

  “Don’t mention it,” she murmured, her voice quiet but sincere. “Besides… I should be thanking you instead.”

  I blinked. “R-really?”

  She nodded, glancing down at her hands for a moment before looking back at me. “Yeah. If I’m being honest… I’ve always been the one relying on you.” A wistful smile crossed her lips. “There’s so much I’m grateful for that I don’t even know where to begin. I mean… I owe you my life—you literally brought me back from the dead.”

  Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

  “You pushed yourself to ace the Midterms,” she continued, “and won the licensure tournament… all for me and my mom’s sake, just so we could afford the medical bills.”

  Her voice was steady, but I could feel the weight behind it. The quiet gratitude. The unspoken emotions slipping between the cracks of her usual confidence.

  And just like that, the world around us—the cheers, the sparklers, the countdown to midnight—faded into the background.

  Myrrh brushed a strand of her greenish-blonde hair over her shoulder, then leaned in—closer than before. The warmth of her presence melted into mine, and my breath caught in my throat as her fingertips, soft and cool, traced the burning heat of my left cheek.

  Her touch was light, almost hesitant, but her words carried the weight of something undeniable.

  “And honestly…” she whispered, her voice barely louder than the distant hum of the city below, “you filled the hole in my life. I was grateful when you were there—when I needed you the most.”

  “Myrrh…” I breathed, my pulse hammering in my ears. “Do you mean… that night? When you were left crying at prom?”

  She didn’t answer—not with words. Instead, she took my hand and placed it against her chest, over the steady, rhythmic beating of her heart.

  And then she moved closer.

  Closer.

  Until I could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with mine, our lungs rising and falling in sync. Her face, framed by the soft glow of sparklers and the endless neon skyline of the cyberpunk city below, looked more breathtaking than ever. Under the vast expanse of stars, she was radiant—a vision so stunning it made the entire universe seem dim in comparison.

  My gaze drifted to her lips. They were soft, slightly parted, flushed with a delicate pinkish-red hue that made my heartbeat pound wildly against my ribs.

  She was inches away.

  Centimeters.

  We both closed our eyes.

  And then—

  A deafening crackle burst through the air, followed by an explosion of color that lit up the night sky. Fireworks bloomed like nebulae above us, painting the darkness with electric blues, burning golds, and vibrant reds.

  The world around us erupted in celebration.

  But all I could think about was her.