Chapter 14: We Finally Met

When Nagi's eyes fluttered open, the ceiling above him was rough wood celling, look familiar, dimly lit by lanterns. The air smelled of damp earth and faint smoke. His body felt heavy, drained, like every ounce of strength had been wrung out of him.

He shifted slightly, a groan escaped, and realized he was lying in a bed, thin sheets, rough fabric, but softer than the cold ground he half-expected.

“Mr. Nagi. You're awake!”

The voice pulled his gaze sideways. Ray was standing at his bedside, leaning forward, eyes wide with relief. His face cracked into a rare, unguarded smile. "Thank the gods of immortal... you're awake. Don't—don't force yourself to sit up yet."

Nagi ignored that advice and pushed himself onto an elbow anyway. His body trembled with the effort. His hand immediately rose to his forehead, a dull pain pulsing behind his eyes.

“Head…” he muttered in his flat, toneless voice. “Hurts...”

Ray frowned. "You sleep for a week, after the battle with the demigods."

But another voice cuts in, light and sweet.

"How are you feeling?"

Nagi blinked. Across from him, seated casually on a wooden chair, was a girl. She looked small, long hair spilled down her back in a perfect divide with white on one side, black on the other. Her eyes were just as unsettling, one glimmering blue, the other crimson. She smiled at him as though greeting an old friend.

"Who?" Nagi asked flatly.

The girl pressed her small hand over her chest and said, “Pupa.”

A silence hung in the air. Nagi's eyes narrowed, his expression as unreadable as ever. He let the words turn over in his head. Pupa.

He pictured the little white owl with the black collar-feathers, the one that never left his shoulder. Always drowsy, always perched there, never speaking. He stared at the girl.

“No.”

Her cheeks puffed out, a childish pout marring her mismatched eyes. She huffed, standing up from the chair and leaning close. Without warning, she grabbed his face between both her small hands and pinched his cheeks hard.

“You're so cold!”

“…” Nagi didn't flinch, though his brow furrowed the slightest bit.

“Ms. Pupa.” Ray snapped, half-standing, though his tone was oddly respectful, even nervous. "Don't do that to him. Mr. Nagi just woke up…”

But Nagi's eyes flickered. Just faintly. A flash of something unguarded, almost fragile. The warmth of her palms pressed against his skin, the simple, grounding sensation. It stirred a memory.

That voice. That warmth.

“It's okay,” she had whispered to him once, when the world blurred red and black, when he was no longer himself. "Everything's going to be okay."

He had felt arms around him then, soft and steady, holding him in the storm of his rage.

Now, her small hands on her face, that memory returned with frightening clarity.

Nagi blinked, and for a fraction of a moment, his eyes softened.

“Nagi?” she said softly, confused

Nagi's gaze lingered on the small hands pressing into his cheeks. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his own hand and touched hers. His voice was as flat as ever, but the words carried something heavier.

“Did I… Hurt you?”

Pupa's eyes widen. For an instant, her mismatched gaze lost its playful mischief. She saw it in him, an unspoken memory, a fear he never voiced. Everyone else ran from him, recoiled from the destruction he brought. Everyone but her. Only she had ever stayed, only she had calmed him.

Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles, small and fleeting. Then, leaning forward, she rested her against his forehead.

Pupa closing her eyes, "I'm sorry, Nagi." She whispered.

He didn't ask what she meant. He didn't move at all, just stared as her warmth pressed against him.

Then, with a breath, she stepped back. Her tiny frame shifted, stretching her arms upward as if to break the moment. "Well, time to rest."

With a soft poof, smoke swirled around her, and in the blink of an eye, the girl was gone. Perched on his shoulder once more was the little white owl with the black-feathered collar. Pupa blinked once, then shut her eyes in that same perpetually drowsy way, as though nothing had changed at all.

Nagi's fingers brushed the spot on his cheek where his hand had been. Then his gaze slid to Ray.

“The prince,” Nagi said, his voice low. “Where?”

Ray shifted uneasily, his relief gone, replaced with that old tension that always crept in when Nagi looked directly at him. "Lord Evan might be in Reuben. A war with reuben as always. After the demigod fled and you collapsed, lord Evan told me to watch you until you woke up."

Nagi slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His body still ached, but his movements carried no hesitation. He rose to his feet, steady, unreadable, as if the fatigue was already forgotten.

“Mr. Nagi, you should rest,” Ray urged, standing quickly. “don't push yourself—”

But Nagi didn't listen. His pale face, shadowed by his black hair, carried that same dread, that same hollow expression as always. Without a word, he walked toward the door.

Pupa, small and silent still clung to his shoulder, eyes closed. Ray let out a frustrated sigh and followed after him, boots echoing against the stone floor.

The battlefield, once filled with fire and steel, frozen in silence. The clamor of Reuben and Welch soldiers died the instant the boy appeared. Every breath hung heavy in the air.

Tiana, from a distance, stared wide-eyed, her body trembling.

Beside her, Lyon muttered under his breath, his voice dazed and low. “Why is he here?”

Neither Cerys nor Evan dared to turn. They knew the echo of those steps too well, an echo that crawled into the spine, that squeezed the lungs. Both lowered their heads, sweat beading on their brows. Even the crowd, men who had cheered for blood moments ago, dared not speak.

Nagi passed between them, his pale face unreadable, red-dead eyes fixed ahead. His shadow stretched long, sliding over Cerys's boots. She stiffened. Her wings drooped, tail limp, her gaze fixed on the dirt.

He stopped.

“Cigarettes.”

The word was flat, almost casual, but the command inside it cut like a blade.

Cerys's breath hitched. Without hesitation, her hands moved, trembling as she wove the image in her mind. A cigarette materialized in her palms. She bowed her head deeper, presenting it with both hands as though she were nothing more than a servant.

“Y-Yes…” she whispered, voice shaking.

Nagi plucked the cigarette from her hand with two fingers. His movements were slow, deliberate, suffocating. He turned his head just slightly, his dead eyes shifting toward Evan.

Nagi's lips parted. He hadn't even spoken yet when—

“Yes!” Evan answered quickly, as if the word had been dragged out of him.

He lifted his hand, violet fire sparking to life on his fingertip. His body trembled, horns lowered, his gaze glued to the ground.

Nagi leaned forward, expression unchanged, bringing the cigarette to the flickering flame. The crowd held their breath as the ember caught.

A long inhale. The faint crackle of burning tobacco.

Every eye in the crowd followed the rising smoke, curling upward into the cold, silent air.

Cerys's throat bobbed in a nervous swallow. Evan's shoulders shook with sweat that dripped down his jaw. Neither dared to look up.

Finally, Nagi exhaled. A long, slow sigh, the smoke unfurling from his lips like a deathly veil across the battlefield.

The silence deepened, heavier than before.

Then—

smack!

The cigarette slipped from Nagi's fingers, falling to the ground.

Each breath was labored.

Nagi's red eyes rolled up, slowly and carefully, until they met Lyon's. His head followed, tilting slightly.

Lyon's hand was still outstretched from the slap.

"Don't smoke. It's bad for your health." He said.

Cerys's jaw dropped, her lips parted in shock and disbelief. Evan's eyes widened. Even soldiers Reuben and Welch gasped, some nearly screaming aloud, silent only out of fear of Nagi.

For the first time, the boy's gaze softened out of memory. Faces flashed through his mind, the bustling Luminette market, a man buying him new clothes, a slice of orange, given freely.

"You..." Nagi's voice was low, stuttering.

Suddenly, Evan grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer with a growl.

"What are you doing?! Do you have a death wish?!" His voice trembled with anger, but the tremor beneath betrayed something else—fear.

At the same moment, Cerys soared into the air, her tiny wings buzzing like a mischievous bee. She poked Lyon's cheek with her fingertips, her face contorted with intense irritation.

“Yeah! How dare you!”

In her haste, she didn't notice or didn't care, that the crowd below was staring at the yellow, duck-patterned panties she was flaunting in the air.

“Duckies.” Pupa muttered.

Lyon furrowed his brow, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "W-what?"

"Stop."

The word was cold. It was Nagi.

Evan froze mid-snarl, his fist still gripping Lyon's collar. Cerys's stabbing hand dropped, her wings fluttering nervously before she descended back to the ground. Both of them returned to their places, as if pulled by invisible chains.

Lyon adjusted his collar and looked at Nagi, his expression stern but his voice softer.

"...Do you remember me?"

Nagi's eyes stared at him intently, red and dead but faintly moving. Slowly, he nodded. Not a word was spoken.

The battlefield remained frozen, the tension so sharp it could cut through skin.

Louille, still coated in dust from his battle against Evan, dragged himself forward, his breaths heavy but determined. He lifted his chin toward Nagi.

“We meet again.”

Nagi tilted his head, eyes narrowing faintly. “Who?”

Louille scratched the back of his head with an awkward grin. "Uh… Back at Luminette's palace. You know… when you slapped Lady Myria. The God of Earth."

A pause. Then, a flicker crossed Nagi's deadened gaze, memory resurfacing.

Far away in the Luminette Palace, within her ornate throne room, Lady Myria sat primly with perfect posture.

Then—

“Achoo!” She sneezed.

Back in the present, Cerys crossed her arms, smirking with bratty confidence. “As expected from Lord Nagi… even a god isn't safe from him.”

Nagi's gaze slid toward her. Cold. Unblinking.

Cerys's smirk evaporated, her wings quivering. A chill sank into her bones.

Louille cleared his throat, pressing onward. “It seems… Reuben and Welch have come to respect you.” His lips curled into a smile before he hardened his tone.

"But let's get back to business. The reason we're here is simple, we need Reuben and Welch to cooperate with the other kingdoms. To prepare for the fight against the demigods."

At that word ‘demigod’ something shifted.

Nagi's expression stayed empty, but his eyes… his eyes burned. His mind replayed Samael's cruelty, the twisted resurrection of his family like puppets dancing on invisible strings. A dull roar filled his ears.

Louille felt it. Lyon felt it. The air turned sharp with suppressed violence.

“I also…” Nagi's voice was flat, but it carried, vibrating through the silence. “…want to kill the demigods.”

The crowd stirred, unsettled by the venom hidden beneath his monotone.

Louille, forcing courage, pressed further. "Then it's best that Reuben and Welch set aside their differences. First, peace here. Unity here."

But at once, voices from the soldiers of both kingdoms erupted in protest. Shouts overlapped, bitter and fierce.

“Never!”

“Better to die than bow to them!”

“They'll betray us the first chance they get!”

The noise swelled, anger spilled like wildfire. All of it was directed at their leaders. Evan and Cerys.

Evan's jaw clenched, shark-like teeth grinding. Sweat rolled down his temples. Cerys's wings twitched nervously, her bratty façade crumbling. Their eyes met, uncertain, lost.

Then—

They felt it.

Nagi's gaze.

It cut into them, cold and unyielding. Neither Evan nor Cerys could move under it.

Evan swallowed, then shouted above the chaos. "Enough! We'll... we'll talk about it. In my place."

The soldiers quieted, their shouts simmering into mutters. Evan moved first, shoulders stiff, Cerys trailing close behind.

Louille let out a breath and surprisingly, then smiled with confidence. He turned to Nagi and clapped his shoulder lightly. "Thank you, partner." Then he walked after Evan and Cerys.

That left only Lyon, standing across from Nagi.

He rubbed the back of his head with a crooked grin. "That's just how Louille is. Calls everyone his partner."

Lyon stepped forward, extending his hand. “I'm Lyon.”

Nagi stared at the offered hand. Then at Lyon's face. His brows furrowed faintly, uncertain. Slowly, he moved his own hand, hesitating.

But Lyon grabbed first, gripping firmly with a smile.

Nagi's red eyes flickered. "Kawamura… Nagi."