“That’s…” Start with something lighter, damnit! She did say it’ll be a ‘hard talk,’ but there’s surely another question that’s more appropriate to ask first. Ahh, what am I even going to answer with?

  ‘I pn to leave you and save another girl.’

  It’d be cruel. Oh shut up, yes I’ve been loathing myself, wanting to leave her to not filth her no more. But it needs to be subtler, can’t hurt her in the process of me leaving, too.

  ‘As if she’d be heartbroken, Ana.’ A voice reminds me.

  Ugh… it’s true, she’d probably be happier when I’m gone. Still, can’t take the risk.

  Sensing the silent meltdown I’m having—that or the eyes gave it away—Nirma speaks gently.“It’s okay if you don’t have it all figured out yet. Take your time, Anasera.”

  But that’s not true, is it? It’s not about needing time—it’s me being a bitch, avoiding her, avoiding the truth. I’ve always done this, haven’t I? Finding ways to sidestep challenges instead of facing them head-on. Should this be the time for a change?

  Yeah. I’ll… tell her. Please forgive me, Nirma.

  “…No,” I say. “I have figured out what moves I want to take.” Would you look at that? The floor suddenly looks so fascinating—pristine, glimmering. Perfect for avoiding eye contact. Yeah, I’ll just focus on that and—okay, fine, I can’t bear to face her.

  “Is that so…” she trails off. “Mind telling me?”

  “A girl is waiting for me,” I blurt out. Regret hits me like a wave, flushing through every inch of me. Good job me. You seriously couldn’t have phrased that worse. Stumbling over my words, I try to fix the mistake. “A-ah, I mean… someone needs my saving. She’s waiting for me, and… stupidly enough, she believes I can save her. So that’s why…”

  Nirma opens her mouth, her hands instinctively reaching out to comfort me. Before she can, I raise a hand, signaling her to wait. Can’t lie, it feels guilty treating her like so, but right now, I don’t want to rely on her comfort. Not for this

  Deep breaths. Calm down. Don’t jumble the words.

  “So that’s why…” I repeat, this time in a firmer tone as I pce a hand on her shoulder, holding it gently. “I need to leave.”

  Her eyes widen—more than I’ve ever seen them do before. Was that… too much? At least I can drive the point home.

  “…Very well,” she says, her body rexing as if resigning herself. “You may leave.” Her tone is so low and quiet, that it almost doesn’t sound like her. Is she sad?

  ‘Nah, I’m just imagining things. Holy fuck, Sera, calm yourself down. Too much hallucinating ain’t good.’ I try to shake off the thought, but it lingers. I’ll boil it down to me being high, and that’s it.

  “You are…” she begins, her gaze dropping to the floor.

  Oi, why’s she acting like this today? Shouldn’t I be the sad one? It’s like our moods just did a switcheroo. Okay, so maybe I’m not drunk?

  “One of hers…” she continues, her tone still quiet. “So even if you do stay, chaos will always follow you.” Her teeth grit as she takes deep, deliberate breaths, clearly trying to compose herself.

  So this is what she feels like when she sees me all fucked up. Except, in her case, it’s probably ten times worse. Thanks for being patient with me, Nirma.

  What she just said is probably really important, especially with how ominous sounding it is, but screw it. She takes priority. “Hey, you okay?” I ask softly, scooting closer to her. Without waiting for a response, I wrap her in a hug.

  She doesn’t return it, nor does she pull away. She simply and limply stays there. Seeing her like this… breaks something within me. But as that part shatters, another emerges, taking its pce.

  A selfish wish to protect her.

  I know very well this is beyond me. She’s a thousand times stronger than I’ll ever be, but… I want to try. To at least attempt. Because even if it’s fruitless, isn’t trying better than doing nothing at all?

  In the midst of the hug, she moves. A simple twitch, but it brings a wave of relief that crashes over me. She’s back.

  “Ah?” she gasps softly, her tone rising slightly at the end, like she’s questioning what just happened. “Uhm…?” She blinks rapidly, her gaze darting between herself and my face.

  “Welcome back,” I say with a gentle giggle, my hand instinctively ruffling her hair. So this is how it feels to give headpats instead of receiving them. Such a lovely feeling.

  It takes her a few moments before waking up fully. When she does so, she pushes me away with a small yelp, breaking our embrace. I feel a little heartbroken, but she was just surprised. Besides, who am I to feel heartbroken for her anyway?

  “U-uhm, I am sorry you had to witness such an embarrassing side of me,” she stammers, her wing moving to conveniently hide her flushed cheeks.

  ‘Don’t worry Nirma, you’re absolutely adorable when you’re flustered.’ That’s what I want to say, but instead, I swallow the thought—maybe for now, maybe forever.

  Her gaze meets mine, and after realizing I’m just smirking without any pns to respond, she makes an adorable pout. Clearing her throat, she straightens herself, regaining her composure.

  “R-right, you want to leave. Follow me then. I believe I have a clue as to where you can go next,” she says, her tone snapping back to its usual bnk and steady cadence.

  It’s like she just flicked a light switch to be ‘normal’ again, a lot of the people I’ve met have that sort of ability as well. I’m a bit jealous, wish I could do that—and not let emotions take control of me, for once.

  A small pause fills the air before a ugh escapes me. “…Alright then.”

  I get up, stretching and wriggling my stiff legs after sitting on the hard sofa for so long. With a deep breath, I fall in step behind her, ready to follow her lead.

  “So,” I begin, breaking the silence, “where are we going?”

  “To the lower floor,” she says brusquely, not sparing me so much as a gnce.

  Okay, that felt a bit harsh, she’s probably still embarrassed and isn’t in the mood to talk about what just happened. Ugh, these small meltdowns are always the reason why everyone leaves me. It’s a good thing they do, to be honest, I wouldn’t want to be involved with me either. I’ll be gone soon, at least.

  “I believe I’ve found some clues that might help you,” she adds, stopping abruptly in the middle of a hallway, as well as putting a halt to my damaging thoughts.

  The surroundings feel foreign, like uncharted territory. A pce I’ve yet to step foot in. Hell, there are probably tons of rooms and hallways I haven’t even seen yet. What is this pce, actually? This is her realm, yes, but there’s something odd. Eh, I’ll shove that thought away for now. Nirma looks like she’s about to have a breakdown here.

  “Grab this pendant of yours,” she says suddenly, spinning toward me and shoving the familiar maiden’s pendant against my chest, her movements almost frantic. Startled, I hurriedly grab it, raising an eyebrow at her unusual behavior.

  “No questions for now, Ana. Just… trust me,” she says, noticing the puzzled expression I’m wearing.

  She turns back and begins walking away again, but I stop her with a quick flick to her forehead. I feel a little guilty about it, but hey—it’s payback for when she flicked mine. So, justified. Probably.

  “I already trust you so much, dummy,” I say, grinning a little. “Take it easy, yeah? I’m not sure if this thing is super important or not, but if it isn’t, I’d like you to slow down a bit.”

  Hearing that, Nirma’s face rexes, the tension melting away. But just as quickly as it leaves, it comes back. Her expression twists for a fleeting moment before she huffs and turns away as if trying to hide it.

  “Nirma, what’s…” The words fall short, like an arrow missing its target. What’s been pguing you? What’s on your mind? Just what exactly am I pnning to say?

  Me, trying to tell her she can lean on me? That she can share her worries? That’s a step too far, a dog disobeying its owner. I should’ve stayed put, stayed in my ne. Someone like me—no, there’s nobody else, only me. I am unworthy of such a connection.

  “Nevermind, sorry,” I say, slightly shaking this shameful head of mine while I hung it down low. “You are free to do what you wish. Forgive me for prying.”

  “No, it’s…” she trails off, her voice carrying a tinge of uncertainty. Her hand hovers mid-air as if she’s reaching for me but stops midway. “Yeah, thanks for understanding. Let’s go.”

  She turns her back to me and starts walking again, her pace faster this time.

  I follow behind her, gging behind as the damaging thoughts weigh me down, each step slower than the st.

  Have I contaminated her in the short time I’ve been with her? Have I hurt someone again? Did my careless, wistful ways bring pain to Nirma?

  The situation is… honestly ughable in a cruel, ironic way. We’re both at the edge, teetering on the brink of colpse. But she’ll find peace once I’m gone. It might take her time, but she will.

  “…You know you made me this way, right? You’re responsible for this.” A voice echoes deep inside me, hauntingly familiar yet disturbingly alien.

  I’ve pushed it far away countless times, but it always comes back. Moments like these are its favorite—perfect for rubbing salt into an open wound.

  “…Shut up,” I murmur, the words quiet enough to ensure no one but me hears them.

  ***

  “We’re here,” Nirma says as we come to a stop at the end of a hallway. Her wing twitches slightly, a subtle, almost nervous motion.

  There’s a long, awkward pause as she seems to gather herself, and—accidentally—I seize the moment to get a clear look at her back.

  Her dress fails to cover the area where her wing sprouts, though “fail” might not be the right word. It’s likely intentional, designed for convenience. But what lies beneath… is grim, to say the least.

  Her back is a map of scars and scabs, crisscrossed with cruel remnants of battles past. Some are small, jagged lines, while others are deep, gnarled gashes that seem to burn into her porcein-like skin. A particurly massive ssh travels from her back to her front—so severe it looks as though it could’ve cleaved her in two. Just what kind of attack could do that? And how the fuck is she still alive and kicking, too?

  Yet… if I’m allowed to comment on it, personally, it looks fucking awesome. It’s tragic that she had to go through this, yes, but I’ll keep the thought that she’s hotter with the marks to me, and only me. Don’t know what it is, but it makes a part of my brain go all overheating.

  Her posture sckens when she hears no response from me, her wing lowering slightly.

  Ah, right. I should’ve answered her. What was she even talking about again?

  “Sera, I know this is hard, but…” Nirma trails off, turning her gaze to me. “You have to trust me—eh?”

  She suddenly stops mid-sentence, her expression morphing into one of genuine confusion, her mouth slightly agape.

  “U-uh?” I stammer, feigning innocence. Though let’s be real, I can already guess why she’s so puzzled.

  “Why are you so… red? Your eyes too, why’re you blushing?” she asks, her tone a mixture of disgust and puzzlement. It’s leaning more toward the tter, but still.

  Oh, yep. Exactly that. I forgot the eyes would rat me out like this. They just had to snitch on me, huh?

  Well… at least the tension in the air feels lighter now. That’s a win, right? Worth the embarrassment. Totally worth sacrificing my dignity.

  “Nah… you’re just imagining things, am sure,” I mumble, waving a hand dismissively and trying not to combust on the spot.

  “Okay then…” she says, an eyebrow still raised at me. “You’re silly, come on. Grab my hand.”

  Seeing her back to making comments like those eases me well. Now to hope that’ll st till I leave, the only one who can have emotions as unstable as a nuclear reactor on the brink of meltdown all the time is only me. Bleh, that’s a mouthful to think, but it describes me way too well. Well enough, at least.

  Nirma shifts back into her working mode, her free hand tinkering with something on the wall in front of us. I can’t tell exactly what it is—her… broad back and wing block most of my view.

  Yes, I paused to emphasize that. Broad back. It deserves the attention!

  Her grip on my hand tightens slightly, her fingers squeezing mine. Is it reassurance for her? Or for me? I might be imagining things—hallucinating again, honestly—but I’ll take it. She calls me silly, but she’s the silly one for finding any value in me.

  “Wah!” The hallway rumbles violently, and I let out a small yelp as small pieces of stone crack and fall from the ceiling, some of them bonked my head. Ouch.

  Standing on my tiptoes to peer over Nirma’s shoulder, I get a glimpse of the—now vanished—wall in front of us, revealing a dark, narrow stairway spiraling further underground.

  “It isn’t anything special,” she says nonchantly, though her grip on my hand tightens. “Just a collection of junk I’ve thrown down here over the years.” Her tone turns slightly stern. “Stay close beside me. This pce is a bit unstable… thanks to my, uh, maintenance methods.”

  “Alright,” I reply, clutching her hand tighter for reassurance.

  ***

  We’re halfway down now. The room isn’t rge, but the spiraling staircase makes good use of the limited space, coiling around the walls like a snake.

  At the base, the “junk” she mentioned becomes clearer—or not. Most of it is intangible, random items piled together and cloaked in varying states of decomposition. Judging from a quick gnce, I’d say the majority of it is at least a month into rotting.

  Oh, and the bones. There are way more brittle, sun-bleached bones than fresh decomposing stuff. It’s enough to make anyone uneasy. Well, anyone but her, apparently.

  “These are all… my targets,” she says, her voice echoing faintly off the tight walls. “What’s left of them, at least.”

  A shiver runs through me. “Targets?”

  “Yes. Remember when we first met? I asked if you were my target or not.”

  I nod slowly, the memory surfacing. It’s hazy, but it stands out because of her majestic entrance. Honestly, hard to forget something like that.

  “This realm opens a rift to a random one every few months,” she continues, not waiting for me to respond. “And in those realms, I need to find a target and euthanize them before the timer runs out.”

  “What happens if you fail?”

  “That is a question I’ve yet to answer,” she replies, her tone lifting ever so slightly with curiosity, as if she finds the idea intriguing. “I haven’t.”

  That’s… terrifying.

  “Though there have been times I’ve come close to meeting death,” she adds, almost casually. “It’s always a good humbling experience.”

  Her calmness about it sends another chill within me. How does she talk about something like this so… matter-of-factly? I suppose it is something to get used to when I’m with her.

  “Ahaha… is that so?” Is all I can let out. Nothing else comes to mind, I’ll just let the thought sink inside me.

  ***

  Eventually, after what feels like an endless descent, we reach the bottom floor. Surprisingly, the putrid stench I was bracing for—the smell of mangled and decomposing bodies—never comes. Instead, the air is musty, like an old, neglected storage room.

  The sight is unsettling. It is disturbing how big some of the bones get. Many of the corpses still have flesh clinging to them, and the cuts on them are disturbingly clean—precise, surgical even. To think I was so close to ending up like one of these… it makes me sick.

  “H-hey, so about these targets…” I stammer, forcing the words out, trying to keep some sense of composure. “You asked if I was your target, but you didn’t kill me. Wouldn’t it have been a safer bet to end me?”

  Nirma stays facing away, and the silence stretches long enough for me to guess she’s thinking it through. Finally, she moves.

  “…Dummy.” She spins around suddenly and boops me on the nose.

  “Hwah! What gives?!” I yelp, sounding annoyed, though secretly, I’m really enjoying this moment.

  “Dunno. Go figure.” She shrugs nonchantly, and wow, can she be a brat sometimes.

  “’Sides,” she continues, “that mark of yours settles the answer.”

  “What mark?” I ask. “You mean the dagger? What does it mean, anyway?” The questions tumble out one after another, faster than I can stop them. Hopefully, she doesn’t mind me bombarding her like this.

  “Yes, that’s correct,” she says. After a pause, Nirma opens her mouth again but stops short, as if she’s choosing a different response. “You’ll figure it out soon.”

  Of course, she goes for the cryptic answer. Why am I not surprised?

  I let out a long, drawn-out sigh of exhaustion. “Fine…” Out of my peripheral vision, Nirma starts rummaging through one particurly rge stack of bones, before pulling out some sort of a framed picture.

  “Ooh, what’s that?” I chime in, scooting closer to her as curiosity wins over the disgust of seeing corpses. She stays silent, nudging the frame closer so I get a better look. “Isn’t that…?”

  I unclip the pendant from my neck, rushing to open it. The figures from the photo match exactly like the ones from the pendant. Sure, their faces are scratched up in both cases but their pose and their rings match up exactly.

  The only difference is the clothes they wear. In the pendant, they wore simple Victorian style attire. While in the frame, they wore a more… modern version, fshy and stylish. Ones where you’d see in the 2000s. It feels unsettling seeing clothes back from my old world, how long has it been since I’ve st seen them? But back to the topic, I’m assuming they’re the same people, just different eras?

  “This should help you,” she says, breaking the train of thoughts that’s been piling up in me. “Hold this for me.” She practically shoves the frame into my hand, once that’s done she begins walking to the center of the room.

  “Uh, what’re you doing now?” I ask, clutching the picture close to me. For some reason, there’s this feeling and need to protect this treasure of hers, the maiden. Same thing with the pendant, too. Why? I don’t really know, and I don’t want to ask questions, either. There’s no need for them. The maiden needs me, and I’ll follow her orders.

  “Grabbing your belongings. You’ll be going soon,” she says in a rushed tone, her breath hitching slightly. That… wasn’t like her at all.

  Hearing those words hurts, it hurts so much. But it is better for both—no, it’s better for her.

  Before I can shoot another question, something horrifying happens. Her body begins to glow faintly, a soft, ominous light. And then—her skin starts peeling away.

  I freeze as her skin strips off from top to bottom, revealing raw muscle beneath. Then the muscle begins to slough away too, exposing veins and blood vessels, glistening and pulsating.

  The process doesn’t stop. Her veins disintegrate, her bones splinter and vanish, and her internal organs rot and colpse inward.

  It all happens in five excruciating seconds.

  She withers away completely, leaving nothing behind.

  That looked fucking excruciating, but not a single sound of pain escapes her lips. Not a cry, not a groan—just silence.

  “Wait—does this mean she’s dead?!” I shout, as thoughts begin to spiral down. It seemed intentional to her, but… what if something went wrong? What if in the process she made a mistake?

  No, that’s… hard to believe. She has survived a shit ton of things, this wouldn’t kill her. Right? I can’t trust even my thoughts, but I can trust her. She’ll be okay, she’s just grabbing things for me.

  ’‘For me…’ What if that’s the reason she’s gone? She just wanted to help, but because of my corrosive behavior, she got influenced and messed up whatever she was trying to do and—

  “Shit, Sera, calm down for fucks sake.” A small effort to keep me sane, shout at myself and I’ll stop spiraling down. It works… fifty percent of the time. Guess this time I’m on the negative side, because I can already feel signs of another episode of hyperventiting.

  Breathing becomes a demanding task, everything feels heavy. I colpse to the floor, hugging my knees, tears already spilling over. Holy fuck, I’m pathetic.

  Nirma’s been gone for one minute, and here I am, falling apart just because she’s not here. How dare I even think I could protect her?

  Then…

  A shimmering light gathers in the same spot where Nirma has vanished. It intensifies, coalescing into a form. A pair of lungs float in the middle of the room, then ribs envelop it, followed by muscles, tendons, and skin.

  She’s… back.

  In her hands are my coat and dagger, held as if nothing had happened.

  Without a second thought, I leap to my feet and lunge toward her, wrapping my arms around her tightly. Sobbing, clinging to her like she’s the st thing tethering me to reality.

  “Woah, missed me that much already?” she jokes, and I respond by squeezing her tighter. “There there…” She drapes the coat over me zily.

  “Just… what did you do?” I ask, choking the words through sobs.

  “Teleportation, dummy,” she replies with a faint smirk. “Something I’ve picked up after spending a lot of time here.” She lets go of the hug, and then I—very reluctantly—do the same as well.

  I settle into my coat, still wearing the nightgown under it. It’s too comfy not to remove. And… I can’t just undress in front of… y-yeah let’s scrap the thought before my brain takes me somewhere I don’t need to go.

  “So, I take it you need a moment before your departure?” She asks, crossing her arms.

  I nod. “Yeah…”

  “Take your time. I need to prepare so you can traverse the new realm anyway.”

  “New realm… you mean I don’t come back to the… gory one?” I ask, if that’s the case then how would I get back to the maiden?

  “Mhm,” she replies, settling down the pictured frame in the middle. “You can’t go back to that realm, at least, not until you’ve a Trigger like this one.” She points to the picture with her wing, then—without warning—sshes it clean in two.

  My heart twists, seeing something I should have protected now split into two is… I guess if it’s Nirma, then it’s okay.

  “Don‘t worry, from my experience, the Trigger will repair itself once you’re inside.” A sigh of relief escapes me. The room falls silent, the air heavy between us. I don’t have the energy to start a conversation, and Nirma seems preoccupied, her gaze distant. It feels like she’s debating something, as though there’s something on her mind she’s not sure she should say.

  Sorry Nirma, wish I could tell you to spill it out already. But it goes back to the usual. Who am I to say and do that? While we sat in this duel of silence, light flickers within the torn frame, small and faint at first. Then it grows brighter, energy sparking and swirling, twisting into itself.

  The energy accumutes, merging and morphing until it forms a slit. Slowly, the slit widens into a full-blown rift, particles of light and energy scattering into the air before being sucked inside.

  Through the rift, a new scene comes into view. Inside it, is the bustling city life, or I guess, what’s left of it. Chaos is the perfect word to describe what’s happening. Piles of trash are burned, cars flipped over, and armed people stalk the sidewalks. A riot is happening.

  “This looks so cool…”

  After that, silence took over again. Neither of us wanted to voice our thoughts. Neither of us wanted to make the first move.

  The gateway’s light flickered and pulsed in front of me, teasing and taunting me. It was so close. All I needed to do was take five steps—just five steps—and I’d be gone. And yet… I couldn’t move. Tears welled up, blurring my vision as I tried and failed to wipe them away discreetly.

  ‘Fuck I’m such a crybaby.’ I steal a gnce at Nirma, and she still looks distant, just what is she thinking?

  As if reading my unspoken question, she began to speak, “Hey…” Her voice was low, quiet, ced with something I couldn’t quite pce. I’ve gotten a good grasp of when her tone shifts like this, something is terribly wrong. “Can I join you?”

  “What?” I blink, her question registering inside my worn out brain. “Is this supposed to be a funny joke?” My tone is slightly higher than I intended it to be. It all seemed so bizarre I can’t help it!

  Nirma takes a small step back, her gaze darting away from mine. “No, I didn’t mean that I—”

  ‘You’ve hurt someone you thought you cared about. Good job.’

  “No… I’m serious,” she interrupts herself, her voice quiet but steady. “Can I?” Her tone holds firm, but her body nguage betrays her—a slight shift in her weight, her fingers twitching at her sides.

  “Why would you want that?” I snap, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them. I can’t hold back the torrent of emotions. “Why? Do you hear yourself? I’ve been working so hard to prepare myself for leaving, for you to stay here. And now you want… what, to come with me? Just like that?” Tears prick at the edges of my eyes, and I hated how pathetic my voice sounded. “This is absurd. Why would you want to be with a pathetic failure like me?!”

  ‘You’re doubling down on hurting her? How noble.’

  “I don’t have a reason,” she says, quiet but sure, though her gaze stays rooted to the ground. “I just… I want to.”

  “You’re lying.” The words came out bitter and choked. I press a hand to my chest, willing the tightness to stop. “You don’t just want to. That’s not how it works, Nirma. Tell me the truth.”

  ‘Didn’t you say you trusted her so much? Was that merely a facade?’

  Her head snap up at that, eyes burning with something I didn’t expect—hurt, yes, but also something fiercer. “I am telling you the truth,” she says, and her voice cracked then, splintering into something soft and wounded. “I want to be there. For you.”

  “What…?” I barely recognize my own voice. This time, I’m the one who takes a step back. The tears slowed down as my breath hitches like they are confused on what the fuck is she on about. “The hell…?”

  ‘Why? Why would someone like her want to anchor herself to you?’

  She says nothing. Just stood there, looking at me like I was the only thing holding her steady, and I hated it. So badly.

  “Answer me… damnit…” I take another step back, scared, fearful just by a single retort from her. “See how pathetic I am? I don’t deserve—”

  “You are that, yes,” she cuts me off. What’s more, when she says that, it hurts so much more. “But it’s good when you accept it. When you make peace with it.” There’s a firmness in her tone now, a resolve that wasn’t there before. She takes a step closer, and I can’t do anything but watch.

  “But I have made peace—”

  “No. You haven’t. You’re just using it as a shield, a way to avoid everything you’re afraid of.” She keeps walking toward me, and I can’t seem to move. When she finally reaches me, her words soften, but they don’t lose their weight. “You’re a coward. And that’s okay.”

  “I’m not…” My voice falters, breaking apart as her arms wrap around me. Her embrace is warm, and familiar—the same as the first time she held me. That time, I was hurting, broken beyond words. And just like now, she offered her warmth without asking for anything in return.

  “That’s okay to admit,” she murmurs, her voice trembling now. “Just… accept my help. Please.”

  And then I realize—she’s crying. Nirma, who never cries, who never shows cracks in her armor, is sobbing. I feel her tears trickle down, wetting my hair as she holds me tighter. Vulnerable. In front of me.

  “I-I’m…” Sorry. The word sits like a stone in my throat. Sorry. That singur, fragile word. Why can’t I just say it? The weight of it suffocating. Am I really going to let this stupid pride stop me from apologizing to her? I take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” I finally choke out, the words trembling but firm.

  ‘Took you long enough.’

  “Apology… accepted…” she says, her voice breaking through sobs as she clings to me tighter. Her arms around me feel desperate, like she’s holding onto something slipping away. I wrap my arms around her too, trying to match the intensity, trying to tell her through this embrace how much I regret it all.

  “Under… one condition…” she whispers, her breath warm against my neck.

  A small, bittersweet smile tugs at my lips. “Okay, what is it?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

  She pulls back just enough to cup my cheeks, forcing me to meet her tear-streaked gaze. Her hands are trembling, but her eyes hold a fierce determination that makes my heart ache. “Let me stay with you.”

  “Yes,” I say, my voice breaking under the weight of the moment. “Stay with me.” My arms tighten around her as if I can keep her safe just by holding her close. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whisper again, this time softer, gentler. My voice cracks with the weight of it. “I know nothing I say or do can undo what I’ve done, but… I want you to know this isn’t for me. This isn’t just to make myself feel better. I mean it. For you.”

  My chest feels hollow like I’ve poured everything out, leaving only a fragile hope. A hope that maybe, somehow, she’ll believe me.

  “Dummy. Stop.” She lets go of me, and chops my head, leaving a dull throb. But alongside that is the feeling of gentleness and care. It’s barely more than a tap, but I feel it—the gentleness behind it, the care she’s somehow imprinted into something so small as a karate chop.

  “Ouch…” I mutter, rubbing my head with an exaggerated pout. “Could’ve gone with a boop on the nose, you know. Much cuter.”

  “Noted.” She stifles a sob with a small ugh, the sound soft and fragile. “You like that more.”

  Her voice steadies, even as her tears keep falling. “Wanna go now? Or… do you need another moment?”

  I gnce at the rift ahead of us, its light casting long shadows on the ground. “Let’s just go,” I say, slipping my hand into hers. The warmth of her grip anchors me. “If we keep standing here, we’ll end up wrinkling like raisins.” I fsh her a small, shaky smile.

  “Yeah… shall we?” she asks, her voice quiet, uncertain, but still holding onto that faint thread of hope.

  For a moment, I hesitate, questions cwing at the back of my mind. What about her realm? Her home? The life she’s leaving behind? But none of it matters now—not when she’s here, standing beside me.

  “Let’s,” I whisper, squeezing her hand as we take that first step together. The rift’s light envelops us, and everything fades to bck.

  ***

  Zenovia