"Soooo, how's life?"
Sunny stopped for a second to give Effie a flat stare, then went back to preparing her coffee.
"Same as last time you asked," he said dryly, "which was half an hour ago, by the way."
Soon, the aroma of fresh coffee assaulted his senses. It was perfect, made with precision that machines couldn't compare to. The beans were specially imported, the water completely pure thanks to the [Endless Spring], the cup made of porcelain that most people couldn't even find, let alone buy.
He could cry out of pride for such a perfect creation. Then his heart broke when he started adding the insane amounts of sugar and syrup that Effie liked to drink it with. The end result was more of a coffee-flavored soda rather than an actual coffee.
The sacrifices he made for his friends.
Sunny settled the cup in front of her, as well as a plate of cookies—thrice the usual size—in front of the Huntress.
"Okay," he said. "Shoot. Tell me what you want."
Effie, already stuffing her face full of cookies, stopped, giving him a confused glance that didn't even come close to being convincing. "What do you mean?"
He quirked an eyebrow. "You've been showing up more often and keep asking me if I enjoy my current life. It's obvious you want something, so go ahead already."
She looked away and took a sip of the monstrosity she called coffee to sell it better. Then the absolute monster went ahead and added even more sugar to the brew. How she didn't have diabetes yet was a mystery.
"Can't I visit a friend?" she tried to deflect.
His eyebrow climbed higher, trying to convey just how unconvincing her act was. "You can. Just as I can stop giving you preferential treatment when it comes to my pastries."
She folded instantly. "Okay, okay, I do want something." She shivered as if he had threatened her entire family. "You didn't have to go that far, you monster."
"You are still trying to deflect."
His hand moved to take away the plate of cookies—but she was faster, snatching it and shoveling every last one into her mouth. It was almost impressive, her cheeks puffing out like a squirrel's. Sunny felt like he was watching a cartoon, not helped by the fact that she somehow managed to swallow them all at once.
It was both horrifying and fascinating.
She took another sip of the coffee. "Fine. We are going to challenge the Second Nightmare, and we want you to join."
"No," he said simply, not a trace of doubt to be found in his voice.
"Ah, I get it," she said, smirking. "You're afraid you won't be able to hold your feelings for me back if we spend that much time together." She even fluttered her eyelashes, like the lead in a bad romcom.
"If you mean my deep desire to stab you with my sword," he replied flatly, "then yes."
It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it the instant the smirk spread across her face.
"Already wanting to go that far with me? How salacious." She covered her mouth in a flawless impression of scandalized shock. "At least buy me dinner first." Then she fluttered her eyelashes again.
He had been dealing with her for a long time. He was somewhat used to her antics. The things he heard on a daily basis from his clients—who for some reason thought he couldn't hear them despite speaking at a normal volume—were far worse.
So why was he blushing like a maiden?!
"You know that's not what I meant!" he protested, flustered.
She teased him a little longer before finally relenting, her expression turning serious.
"Can't I convince you otherwise?"
"No," he denied once more, his voice conveying finality. "My only dream was retiring and living a peaceful life, and that hasn't changed now that I have achieved it."
She nodded, sadness flickering across her face. "They miss you, you know. Cassie and Nephis."
For a second, he felt a pang of indescribable sadness and rage. Then the world itself trembled, as if it were a knot whose strings were fraying against an impossibly sharp blade.
A spike of pure pain penetrated his brain, driving him to his knees in sheer agony.
He didn't know how long it lasted. The world unraveled, revealing silvery tendrils beneath reality, like threads forming a vast, fragile canvas. He glimpsed it for barely half a second before the tendrils snapped back into place, mending themselves and knotting together again, restoring the café that moments ago had been on the verge of vanishing.
The pain faded and went away, and with it, the memory of the strange occurrence disappeared too.
Sunny blinked and found himself alone, the feeling of something being wrong assaulting him again.
"How rude," he muttered. "She didn't even say goodbye."
He shook his head, then glanced around and realized the other customers were gone too. He shook his head again. He sure was airheaded today.
"Get a grip, Sunny," he scolded himself. "What kind of reputation will this place get if I keep daydreaming on the job?"
A soft giggle drew him away from his musings. It seemed like a new client had arrived while he was chastising himself.
She was a woman, half a head taller than him. Her skin was just as pale as his, with dark hair and eyes. And she was beautiful—the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, even. She also seemed oddly familiar, like he had seen her before.
"Hard day?" she asked, an amused smile painted on her lovely lips.
"You can say so," he replied, a strained smile appearing on his face. "What can I get you?"
She eyed the menu, her eyes going through the many things listed but unable to settle on one. "Surprise me," she said at last.
He nodded, grateful for the excuse to step away. When he returned, he brought a cup of coffee and a slice of strawberry cake.
Sunny smiled upon seeing her digging in eagerly. It was for things like this that he liked his job; it always made him feel better to see others enjoy the fruits of his work.
It made him feel like he mattered, like he could do more things than just wield a sword.
"What can you tell me about the city?" his new patron asked, still eagerly devouring the cake.
Had she just moved in, perhaps? It would explain why it was the first time he had seen her. "Plenty. Anything you want to know in particular?"
She blushed, realizing just how vague her question was. "Well, what about that tower?"
He nodded, not even needing to ask which one she meant.
"Well, to begin with, it's the most famous landmark of… Aleras?"
Why had he hesitated? He'd lived in Aleras his entire life. For a fleeting moment, the image of a vast city rose in his mind—its radiant center standing in stark contrast to its hellish outskirts.
The sensation of wrongness crept over him once more, stronger this time.
The pain of his flaw dragged him back from his musings. He hadn't completely answered the question, so it was making itself known.
Shaking the feeling of wrongness away, he continued. "According to the legends of old, it was built by the Daemon of Choice himself as a gift for the Twin Gods."
"Why?" she asked eagerly, her face flashing with interest.
"Well, that's where pretty much everyone disagrees. Some say that it was meant to endear them to him, since they were the descendants of the Storm Goddess. Others say that he was trying to court the Water Goddess, while others claim that it was the Sky God he was trying to charm instead." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "And some say that it was both."
She laughed, her voice pure and melodious. The remaining traces of wrongness disappeared like morning dew, leaving him unburdened from the strange sensation. He could stay there forever, as long as he could keep hearing that breathtaking laugh.
"What everyone agrees on is the claim made by the Daemon after it was completed." He cleared his throat in preparation and then put on his most pompous voice. "'This, as all of my creations before, is the pinnacle of all crafts. Nothing but the Gods themselves will be able to damage it, and even then, only their focused and unrelenting assault will be able to topple it.'"
"Did he really say that?" she asked between sips of her cup.
"Oh yes. The historians were quite sure of that fact."
"Nether sure was humble," the woman said amidst giggles.
Nether? Was that supposed to be the name of the Daemon? How did she know? The wrongness tried to creep back, but was crushed immediately.
"Oh yes, you should try to join one of the many tours they organize for tourists inside the tower. You would be surprised by the amount of statues of him that can be found inside."
She laughed once more and finished her cup.
"This was a pleasure, but I have to leave," she said while getting up. Inexplicably, he felt sad seeing her go.
"The pleasure was all mine, I assure you," he replied with his best customer service smile—though this time, it was more genuine than usual.
"See you next time?" she asked almost hopefully.
"Of course. It's not like I can take my shop and leave," Sunny joked.
She smiled at him and left, leaving behind a vague scent that reminded him of home for some reason.
Belatedly, he realized that he hadn't asked for her name. Oh well—she would come back.
-------------------------------------------
"Tell me more about yourself," she said imperiously. At times like this, she looked less like a mundane girl and more like an empress issuing a decree.
Sunny found himself smiling as he prepared a cup for her. She had started visiting daily, always at the same hour, as punctual as clockwork. And she was always curious—about everything.
"You'll have to be more specific than that," he chided her playfully.
She put a finger beneath her chin, seemingly in deep thought. Cute.
"What do you want out of life?" she asked at last.
The question hit harder than he expected. Bitterness welled in his stomach, sharp and sudden. Had anyone ever cared enough to ask him that before? Or cared about him at all?
The familiar sense of wrongness crept in, stronger than before, but he brushed it aside with practiced ease. His flaw pressed at the edges of his mind, urging him to answer.
In the end, Sunny shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know."
She looked at him quizzically, clearly not believing his answer.
A low chuckle escaped him. "Don't look at me like that—it's true." When her expression didn't change, he sighed. "If I had to elaborate… I guess I want so many things that I don't even know which one I want the most."
She tilted her head—he had to ask her name one of these days—some strange, alien emotion seeming to pass through her eyes. "Well then, how about you tell me some of them and I help you narrow it down?"
He shook his head in fond exasperation. When she wanted to know something, there was no stopping her.
He set the coffee down in front of her, along with a plate of cookies. He'd have to bake more soon—Effie and Kai had stopped by earlier and nearly wiped him out. Mostly Effie.
"I suppose I want to keep the peaceful life I have here," he began. "I want to feel safe. As ridiculous as it sounds, I still have trouble sleeping at night. The Awakened life is behind me… but the memories aren't."
His gaze drifted, dragged under by old recollections. Long, sleepless nights. The constant tension. Fingers locked tight around a sword, breath held as he waited for something—anything—to go wrong.
And something always did.
"Then I want to have friends. Friends I can trust, friends who will always have my back and whom I will have in turn." So why had he refused to join them in the Second Nightmare? "Friends who won't forget me."
His eyes stung and his breath hitched, but he continued.
"I want to be strong enough to control my own fate. I want to love and be loved. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and not feel disgusted. I want to get over all the insecurities that plague me. I want to stop hearing that damn voice that's always whispering that my life is worthless. I want—"
He stopped when he felt arms enveloping him, their grip surprisingly strong. Why was his sight so blurry all of a sudden?
He wiped at his eyes and was met with wetness. They hadn't started falling yet, but it was a close thing. With his sight restored, he was able to see her face right in front of him, just millimeters away from his. His cheeks reddened, embarrassment following right after.
Despite the shame he felt, there was none in her. Instead, she was looking at him seriously, not a trace of pity or disgust to be seen—just a quiet reassurance that he wasn't alone.
He tried to chuckle, to make some self-deprecating joke that would reduce the tension, to push her away, and yet instead he pulled her closer, fully returning the embrace.
Minutes later, when he regained control, she let go of him and returned to her previous position. Fortunately, there was no one else in the café to witness his pitiful show of weakness.
"I'm sorry," he said, scrubbing at his eyes. "I didn't mean to—"
She shook her head gently. "If anyone should apologize, it's me. I'm the one who asked."
Her hand slipped into his, warm and careful. His face flushed again. He really wasn't used to this.
"And what about you?" he asked quickly. "What do you want out of life?" He hoped she'd let the subject change.
Her eyes told him clearly that she wasn't fooled, but she acquiesced nonetheless.
"I want to create a world without suffering," she said, her voice full of conviction. Then her expression fell. "I don't seem to be that good at it, though. Just look at what I just made you go through."
Unable to come up with words that could make her feel better without lying or sounding patronizing, he chose instead to squeeze her hand, trying to convey as much comfort through the simple gesture as he could.
Fortunately, it seemed to work, for she gave him the most heartwarming smile he had ever seen.
Seeing that smile, he felt like everything was right with the world.
-------------------------------------------
"Sorry, have you been waiting long?" she asked as she arrived at their meeting point.
"Don't worry, I arrived just a few minutes ago too." Technically the truth—half an hour was still a few minutes, after all.
Why did he even bother to come so early? This was just an outing between friends, nothing special. He had gone to countless ones with Kai and Effie.
Maybe… maybe it was time to do it with them too.
The thought made the world shiver faintly. The wrongness returned—but it was weak now. Flickering. Like a dying flame.
He squashed it without even realizing that he did.
Feeling a soft pinch on his cheek, his attention snapped back to the beautiful woman before him, who was pouting at him.
"Honestly, I manage to get you out of your shop for once and you ignore me. How rude!"
Sunny chuckled and raised his arms in surrender, trying to appease her. "Sorry, sorry. I was just lost in thought."
She pouted a little longer, but in the end let go of his cheek, only to grab his hand instead and start dragging him toward the queue. She should stop doing that. One of these days, he might get the wrong idea and think that she liked him.
Shaking away the ridiculous thought, he focused back on the situation. They were at the end of the queue, wearing casual clothes, perfect for a casual afternoon with friends. Wait—was she wearing makeup? Nah, it must have been his imagination.
He shook his head again—he was doing that far too often nowadays—and allowed his gaze to rise to the tower standing before them. She had been wanting to visit it for a while, and he had agreed to keep her company while she did. Why she couldn't go on her own was beyond him.
Although he could admit that it was nice—especially the fact that she still hadn't let go of his hand.
The afternoon slipped by easily. They ate, talked, laughed. Took photos of statues and artifacts. Watched a play about Nether building the tower—ridiculous, exaggerated, and strangely fun. Though he had to say that the depiction of the Sun God—who flirted with every single character and succeeded with more than a few—felt rather blasphemous.
Seemingly reading his mind, she spoke. "That one is actually accurate."
Sunny chuckled. "Oh? And how do you know that? Were you alive to witness it, perchance?"
She laughed nervously. "No, no, I just read it in some of the history books." She deflected suspiciously fast.
"You are a terrible liar, but fine—keep your secrets."
She kept trying to deny it a little longer, but seeing that he wasn't convinced, she eventually relented with the most adorable pout he had ever seen. He was curious about how she knew—being alive during the age of the gods? Ridiculous—but he could wait for another moment.
After that, they left and climbed to the top floor, from where they could see the city in full. It was nighttime already, the countless little lights making it look like a sea of colorful stars.
At some point, without even realizing it, they had closed the distance between each other even more. She was currently behind him, chest resting against his back, her arms around his neck and her head resting on his shoulder. Their bodies were pressed against each other in a way that seemed perfect, fitting, as if they were meant to be like that.
Sunny found himself exhaling in contentment. Everything felt right at that moment. There was nowhere else he wanted to be and nobody he would rather be with. Another spike of wrongness rose at that thought, but it faded away on its own, too weak to even be noticed.
"Is there something you want to tell me, Sunny?" she asked softly, her warm breath tickling his ear.
"No," he answered immediately, then added, feeling puzzled, "Should I?"
He felt her arms tense, followed by an exasperated grunt. "Do I have to do it all myself?"
When she let go of him, he turned around to look at her annoyed—yet still beautiful—face. "What do you mean?"
For an answer, she closed what little distance there was between them and leaned in—why was everyone he knew so damn tall?—bringing their faces close. Was she going to whisper it or something?
Then her lips met his, and his mind short-circuited.
It felt… wrong.
The most beautiful woman he had ever met was kissing him, and the only thing that came to mind was grey eyes and silver hair.
She stepped back, her cheeks painted red, and he brushed that thought aside. There was something far more important he had to ask.
-------------------------------------------
She stepped back, feeling like she had just committed a mistake. He hadn't answered; instead, he had locked up, still as a statue.
And the look on his face—it was the saddest thing she had ever seen. He was afraid—no, scratch that—he was terrified. His hands were shaking, eyes darting around in a frenzy.
"Do you love me?" Sunny asked, his tone so insecure and broken that she wanted nothing more than to hug him.
She restrained herself. There was something wrong going on. She was not blind to the fact that he wasn't accustomed to physical affection, but this reaction worried her. He acted as if he were about to face a dangerous Nightmare creature instead of a confession.
Seeing the growing worry in him, she answered, trying to make her voice sound as soothing and honest as possible. "Yes, I love you. I love you as much as I possibly can."
The reaction that met her was heartbreaking.
She saw it happen the moment the words left her mouth. He went still, as though something inside him had locked into place, and his shoulders drew inward, folding toward his chest in a way that made him seem even smaller than usual. The breath slipped out of him slowly, uneven, and for a second she wondered if he had stopped breathing altogether. His jaw tightened, a hard line forming as his eyes lost focus, no longer looking at her but somewhere far past her.
His hands curled at his sides, fingers digging into his palms, and she noticed the slight tremor there, quickly restrained. He shook his head once, faintly, as if rejecting something he couldn't afford to touch. His posture sagged, spine bowing under an invisible weight, and his chest rose and fell in shallow, careful breaths.
To her, it looked like disappointment settling in real time. His throat worked as he swallowed, lips pressed tight, holding back a reaction he refused to give voice to. There was no anger in him—only a quiet collapse, like someone bracing for a blow they had always expected. She could see the heartbreak in the way his body guarded itself, as if every kindness before this moment had just turned sharp, and he was already preparing to be hurt again.
He looked defeated. Like he had been informed of suffering from a terminal illness rather than of a love confession.
"I was afraid you would say that," he said at last, his voice tinged with sadness.
-------------------------------------------
The world was still for a moment, her face frozen in surprise and sadness—and then it broke down.
He saw with cold eyes how the fabric of the world frayed and broke apart. The world lost color, then it lost consistency, and finally his vision turned black.
Mere seconds later, he opened his eyes to see that he was still in the cathedral, Saint watching over him dutifully.
Sunny laughed bitterly as he rose to his feet.
"Like I could believe that someone loves me."