Chapter 11 There is no World where She is His Daughter

"Please, Molly. I am begging you. Help me study before I fail my first semester and disgrace my family name."

Molly giggled. "Okay, okay! Geez. It's actually super easy. Let me look—"

She slammed her chair sideways and rammed it directly against Leon's, pressing against him. Her shoulder tucked under his arm, her hip flush against his thigh, her blonde curls spilling across his textbook. Warm and smelling faintly of vanilla and flowers. Her blonde curls brushed his collarbone as she stretched across the textbook, her finger landing on a dense cluster of arcane symbols.

Leon stared at the ancient magical book. Then at her. Then back at the book.

"Whaaa! This old thing?! Yeah, I know what's up. I think I can help you with this." She stabbed a finger at the diagram and invaded every inch of his personal space. "This scary-looking squiggle? It's not actually a containment. It's channeling. See how the lines flow outward instead of inward? Super common mix-up!"

Leon stared at the diagram. Then at her face, which was inches from his.

"...I see."

"She's very close. Why is she this close? Pressed against me. Her hair smells like vanilla and something else, something warm, like honey and night flowers... Focus. She's explaining.

Wait... why is her thigh touching my hand."

Molly's leg had shifted. Her soft, warm thigh was now pressed against the side of his hand. She didn't seem to notice. Her finger continued to move across the page.

"So, this part here? It's basically just telling the magic where to go. Like mana flow! You don't even need to understand the ancient symbols; you just need to feel the flow and—oh!"

She shifted again, her thigh pressing more firmly against his hand. Her skin was warm through her tights. Leon's fingers twitched involuntarily.

He tried to pull his hand away.

Molly's hand shot out and caught it.

"Wait, wait, you need to see this part!" She held his hand in place, her fingers warm and soft around his wrist. Her face was the picture of cute cat. "If you miss this detail, the whole spell collapses! See? Right here!"

She pointed with her other hand. His hand remained trapped against her thigh. She made no move to release it.

"Kyaaaaa! His hand is so warm! And his fingers are all calloused from sword fighting! He's not pulling away! Well, he tried to pull away, but I STOPPED him, and he's not fighting it! This is fine! I need to push forward! You need to be bold, Molly! You need to be bad girl! Good girls never get prince charming!"

She leaned further into him, her small body curling against his side like a cat claiming a warm lap. Her arm looped around his, her chest pressing softly against his bicep as she reached across to tap another section of the page.

Leon went rigid.

"M-Molly. You're… very close."

"Hm?" She looked up at him, her eyes wide and sparkling with innocence. Her face was flushed that perfect rose-gold, her lips curved in a smile that showed all her teeth. "Oh, sorry! I'm just, like, super small. I can't really see the text from far away. And I need to hold on to something, so I don't, like, tip over or whatever."

She gave his arm a little squeeze. Her chest pressed harder against his bicep.

"You're very sturdy, Champion Leon. It's helpful!"

"…She's lying. She's absolutely lying. The text is not that small. She is not that small. She is perfectly capable of seeing the page from a normal distance. She is doing this on purpose.

…Why is she doing this on purpose? Why am I not stopping her? Why does her hair smell so good."

Molly continued her explanation, her voice a cheerful, bubbly stream of simplified magical theory. But her body remained pressed against his, warm and soft and distracting. Her finger traced diagrams. Her thigh stayed pressed against his hand. Her chest rose and fell against his arm with every breath.

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The library had grown dark. Outside, the world had faded to black.

Molly finally pulled away. Her warmth left his side, and Leon felt the absence immediately, a sudden chill where her body had been pressed against his.

He looked at the window. Darkness. Evening had come and gone without either of them noticing.

"I… apologize, Molly. I kept you far too long. The dorms' curfew is approaching. You should go. I don't want you to be in trouble on your first day because of me."

Molly didn't move.

She sat very still, her hands folded in her lap, her blonde curls casting shadows across her face in the low candlelight. 

"That depends..." 

"Depends on what?"

She looked up at him. Her eyes, usually sparkling, were serious now. Vulnerable.

"Depends on what happens when I tell you the truth."

A pause. The candle flickered.

"I wasn't joking earlier. About being a demon. I told you the truth, Leon. I am a demon. And I am a daughter of the Demon Lord."

Leon stared at her.

Then, slowly, a small smile touched his lips. He gently shook his head.

"Again with the jokes. Come now. What is it really? Are you testing me again? Will you try to trick me into petting your head again? I admit, you are an interesting, mysterious girl, Molly. But what you are saying cannot possibly be true."

"The Demon Lord's generals are his children. I have seen them. Fought them. They are monsters in every sense. Strong, terrifying, with overwhelming magic. But she is… small. Soft. She sparkles. She has drawings of cats on her notebook. She asked me to pet her head. There is no world where she is one of them. There is no world where she is his daughter."

Molly looked at him. Her expression didn't change. No smile. No wink. No playful tilt of her head.

"I'm serious, Leon. Malakar is my dad."

She opened her tiny fist. A ball of darkness bloomed above her palm. It pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat. Like the exact, unmistakable signature of the power that had hurled Leon through castle walls a hundred times.

Leon's body moved before his mind caught up.

His chair scraped falling on the ground. He was on his feet, his hand flying to his holy sword, blade pointed at her.

"That power. I've felt it a hundred times. It's the same. It's exactly the same as Demon lord. Lady Moriana. What is the meaning of this?"

Molly didn't flinch. She didn't retreat. She didn't even raise her hands in defense.

She looked up at him, the man who had spent years trying to defeat her father, who had crashed through her wall and kissed her by accident.

No magic. No teasing. No gyaru armor.

She rose from her chair, slow and gentle. She stepped toward him, into the space between them, until the holy sword was pressed against her chest, right over her heart.

Her small, soft hands came up and wrapped around the cold metal. She didn't try to take it from him. She just hugged it. Held it. Her hands curled around the blade, warm and gentle.

"His name is Malakar," she whispered. "He's my dad. And he's not evil, Leon. He's just… a lonely old man who doesn't know how to stop fighting because no one ever told him it was okay to stop."

A tear escaped, trailing down her tan cheek.

"I came here because I saw you. In my room, unconscious, and so, so handsome. And I thought…" A wet, shaky laugh. "I thought, 'I don't care if we're supposed to be enemies. I don't care if his magic burns me. I want to be near him.'"

She pressed the holy sword harder against her chest.

"So here I am. Demon Lord's daughter. Your enemy. And I fallen in love with you."

She met his eyes.

"So if you think I'm evil… if you think everything you just said about demons was wrong… Then cut me down. Right here. I won't run. I won't fight. I'll never be able to fight you, Leon."

She closed her eyes.

"Just… please. Don't hate me."