Chapter 3

Shizuku sits on the edge of the pearlescent balcony that overlooks Rianelle Beach. Moonlight refracts against the surface like shattered silver glass, and the sky pulses with distant, slow-moving constellations. Alto, in a sleeveless pale robe, quietly approaches with two mugs of stardust-brewed tea.

Shizuku doesn't look back, but takes the offered mug without a word.

Shizuku:
She’s sixteen.
Already.

Alto:
That number’s been clanging around in my head all day.
I kept telling myself she was still... twelve. Maybe thirteen.

Shizuku:
Sixteen.
I counted.
I did the math three times in my head today. I even checked the Universal Tree’s clock just to make sure the flow of time hadn’t bent around her without us noticing.

Alto:
It hasn’t.

Shizuku:
No.
It hasn’t.

He sips the tea.

Shizuku:
And yet I still can’t wrap my head around it.
Lily.
Sixteen.

Alto:
We’ve seen star systems bloom and collapse.
Seen worlds forget their names and relearn them in new tongues.
Watched two million years pass like the wake behind a drifting ship.

Shizuku:
And still, this—
Our daughter turning sixteen—
Hits harder than any of it.

Alto:
That’s parenthood for you.

Shizuku:
I’m the Universal Emperor, Alto.
I make continents kneel with a blink.
Command dragons older than the bones of the Void.
And yet...
My hands shook this morning just watching her eat breakfast and laugh about some stupid commercial.

Alto:
That’s parenthood for you.

Shizuku:
You already said that.

Alto:
It bears repeating.

They both sip. The stars above ripple faintly in a spiral, responding to Alto’s breath.

Shizuku:
She’ll be driving now.
A modded Aqua Skyshade, no less.

Alto:
Which I will have to refuel.
Every three days.
With compressed star cores.
Because she insisted on the “extra rocket system.”

Shizuku:
I don’t even remember my sixteenth year. Do you?

Alto:
No.
Though I do remember mine six hundred thousand years after it.

Shizuku:
Heh.

Alto:
She wants to be free. That’s what sixteen means to her.
A license. A car. Late-night candy runs with Sanguinella.
I saw the way she smiled today. Not like a kid getting candy—
Like someone who earned the right to go where she wants.
Even if it’s just to the next city over.

Shizuku:
And yet I still see her—
Barely standing, crying because she touched my sword for the first time.
Remember that?

Alto:
She tried to lift Mizuki Kurogane and got blown back halfway across the courtyard.

Shizuku:
Said, “I’ll hold it one day. I promise.”

Alto:
And then promptly threw up from the mana feedback.
It was adorable.

Shizuku:
It was.
Now she’s wielding Dramatic Play like it’s always belonged to her.

Shizuku’s expression softens, faraway.

Shizuku:
Sixteen.
The universe moved faster than I expected.

Alto:
Not the universe, love.
Just her.

Silence. The waves far below hum with aquatic mana.

Alto:
Do you think... We were good parents?

Shizuku:
No.
We were… Great ones.

Alto:
Really?

Shizuku (raising an eyebrow whilst brushing his hair):
You’re doubting me now?

Alto:
Just making sure you’re not being biased.

Shizuku:
I’m always biased.
Toward her.
Toward you.

Alto:
Still biased.

Shizuku:
Always.

They clink their mugs together softly. A star dies in the sky, then bursts into a quiet blue rebirth.

Shizuku:
Sixteen.
Just wait ‘til she’s seventeen.

Alto:
You gonna cry then?

Shizuku (sniffling slightly):
I might.

Alto:
Then I will too.

They sit in silence a while longer, the sea and stars carrying their thoughts out to the far edges of Meeresboden.