Before Sith could go any further, the bedroom door opened.
Morgan stood at the doorway, dressed in her elegant night gown, a white shawl draped softly over her shoulders.
She paused for a fraction of a second at the sight before her—Gabriel hanging upside down like a failed cocoon, neatly bound by her daughter's magical threads.
Morgan's gaze shifted to the knots of magic themselves.
"Hmm…" she murmured softly. "It seems you've learned restraint. Not excessive. Not breaking anything that need not be broken."
Her tone wasn't angry—it was evaluative. Almost like a queen assessing the progress of her daughter's technique.
Sith turned quickly.
"Mother…" she called gently.
Her sadistic smile faded, replaced by the expression of a daughter seeking acknowledgment.
Morgan stepped inside calmly, the door closing softly behind her.
"My daughter," she said gently yet firmly, "it is already night. Return to your room and sleep."
Sith watched her mother approach. Her expression softened completely—sharply contrasting with the coldness from moments ago.
"Mother…" she said, almost in a spoiled tone. "Servants and Faeries like us don't really need sleep, do we? I just wanted to handle this little insolence of the Lowly Prey."
Morgan smiled faintly.
She raised her hand, touching Sith's hair, stroking it gently. The gesture was simple—but enough to calm the lingering waves of unresolved emotion.
Silence settled over the room. Only soft breaths and the residual aura of magic hung in the air.
"…Alright," Sith finally said, though reluctantly. "I'll go sleep in my room."
She turned. Before stepping out, her eyes flicked toward Gabriel, still hanging upside down.
"You get off easy this time, Lowly Prey."
The door closed.
Her steps were still heavy; her mood hadn't fully recovered—but the trace of Morgan's caress had eased the raw anger.
Now, only Morgan and Gabriel remained.
Morgan gazed at Gabriel, still dangling like a cocoon that had failed to hatch.
Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
"…You look rather inelegant," she commented flatly, without any hint of mockery—more like the objective assessment of a queen.
Her white scarf shifted softly over her arms as she stepped closer.
"At least you're no longer showing excessive panic. That's a fairly good development."
Gabriel closed his eyes and exhaled softly.
"Since when is a human graceful when tied like this?" he replied flatly, deliberately wriggling a little, causing himself to swing gently again.
Morgan paused for a mmoment
"Human?" she repeated calmly.
She stopped directly in front of Gabriel's upside-down face.
"Weren't you the one who called yourself the Pale Mist?" her voice was gentle, yet carried a subtle weight.
"A being standing on the boundary," she continued. "Not entirely human, nor something that can be classified simply."
Her fingers lifted, brushing lightly through the air in front of Gabriel's face.
"You do not belong in the category of humans."
Gabriel fell silent.
His eyes opened again.
The mechanical magic circle—layers of Gigan forming patterns like extra irises—shifted slowly to the side, as if adjusting focus.
His face flushed faintly.
Morgan's words… were too accurate.
This woman knew.
She knew about that kiss.
The sweet yet poisonous memory flashed back—dark purple sparks, the way they had been so close, breaths colliding.
Gabriel swallowed.
"Sorry…" he said softly. "And… please release me from here."
Morgan studied him for a few more seconds.
Not angry. Not vulgarly jealous.
Just… calm.
"Your apology is unnecessary," she said at last. "You did not initiate it. It was merely accidental."
Her hand lifted.
The magical threads trembled softly, then unraveled one by one like silk strands burning without flame.
Gabriel's body descended slowly—supported by Morgan's magic so he wouldn't fall inelegantly onto the floor.
When his feet touched the ground, Morgan stood very close.
"However," she continued gently, "next time, maintain an appropriate distance."
Her voice remained soft.
"Not everything sweet is meant to be touched twice."
After saying that, Morgan suddenly grasped the collar of Gabriel's shirt.
Her movement was smooth—yet left no room for refusal.
She guided him—or rather, elegantly pulled him—toward the large bed in the center of the room.
Before a single word could leave Gabriel's mouth, Morgan spoke first.
"Ever since I started using my original body," she said calmly, her voice characteristic—low, mature, and commanding, "we've never shared the same bed. Let alone the same room."
Gabriel blinked.
"Wait—that doesn't mean we have to start now, right?" he replied quickly. "I can sleep on the sofa. Or the guest room. Or—"
"No," Morgan cut him off gently.
She raised her hand slightly.
The air around the bedroom door shimmered faintly. A delicate rune circle of magic flared for a moment before vanishing.
"A curse spell has been placed on the door," she explained casually. "You cannot leave tonight."
Gabriel glanced quickly at the door.
"Then I can sleep on the floor."
"No."
This time her answer came even faster.
The surface of the floor shimmered faintly; a layer of invisible magical barrier had formed.
"There's a barrier there too. Cold, uncomfortable, and unfit for sleeping."
Gabriel stared at her in disbelief.
"That's overkill…"
Morgan tilted her head slightly.
"Don't you have an important plan tomorrow?" she asked softly. "A human body—or whatever category you fall into now—still requires proper rest."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"Or do you not wish to sleep?"
The sentence was not a threat. But it was clearly not a free choice either.
Gabriel fell silent for a few seconds.
"…This is still excessive," he muttered quietly.
Morgan had already seated herself on the edge of the bed, drawing the blanket back with an elegant motion.
"Excessive?" she repeated calmly. "I am merely ensuring that my investment does not collapse from lack of rest."
She patted the space beside her.
"Lie down."
Gabriel glanced at the door. The floor. The window.
No openings.
He sighed softly, then finally walked closer.
With an awkward movement that tried to maintain some dignity, he climbed onto the bed and lay down beside Morgan—keeping a reasonable distance.
Several seconds of silence passed.
"Don't move too close," Gabriel muttered quietly.
Morgan closed her eyes.
"I have no interest in devouring you tonight, Pale Mist. Not now."
Her voice was calm.
Yet the blanket that had been neatly arranged—without him noticing—was pulled just slightly closer to her side.
And the night eventually grew quieter than before.
***
One night had passed, and in the end, Gabriel hadn't been able to sleep. The daytime sky stretched bright and clear above Tengu City.
Below it, Raizen High School was in the middle of its break period. The corridors were filled with the sounds of footsteps, laughter, and student conversations.
Amid the crowd, three figures could be seen walking side by side—Gabriel, Ren, and Origami Tobiichi from the new timeline, more commonly called Moegami.
It had been one month since Ren decided to transfer from Rinkai and enroll at Raizen. Not Shido, not AST, not DEM, nor even Ratatoskr had realized that Ren was a Spirit.
As a reminder, the small earring Gabriel once gave her perfectly concealed her Reiryoku.
Even if she used her powers within reasonable limits, her presence remained undetectable.
For example, Ren could activate her Astral Dress and unleash Reiryoku-based attacks—yet still remain hidden.
As for housing, Ren stayed at Gabriel's mansion. Besides attending school, she also worked there as a maid—officially to earn an income, though to Gabriel it felt more like a formality.
Today, Ren was carrying out a task that should have been Gabriel's responsibility: introducing Raizen's environment to Moegami.
The task had been assigned directly by Tomo-sensei.
But Ren knew Gabriel well enough.
If he wasn't wearing his "Ash" persona, he tended to be difficult to approach. His gaze would turn distant, his steps automatic, while his mind was clearly busy constructing something complicated behind the scenes of his awareness.
Like right now.
Gabriel walked beside them, his expression calm, yet clearly not fully present.
Ren glanced at him briefly.
And let out a soft sigh.
"It has to be accidental… and natural," Gabriel murmured quietly. "But for that… a relationship is required."
His thoughts spun rapidly.
To create a scenario in which Moegami would accidentally attack Natsumi, he needed a reasonable cause.
An emotional trigger.
A connection.
Gabriel understood the importance of it well—cause and effect were the foundation of every scenario he built. Everything had to appear as a chain of coincidences, when in truth it was guided by thin yet resilient threads.
The problem was, relationships couldn't be forced in a single day.
He needed time.
On the other hand, Ren was patiently explaining the direction to the library. Yet Moegami looked slightly restless, as if there was something she had been wanting to say for a while.
Her expression was far too clear to escape Ren's notice.
They stopped walking. Gabriel halted as well out of reflex, though his thoughts were still drifting elsewhere.
"Is something wrong, Tobiichi-san?" Ren asked curiously.
"Ah… um…" Origami replied awkwardly. "It's nothing."
But her hand had already moved to her pocket.
She took out a neatly folded handkerchief, then lifted her gaze to Gabriel.
"You're the one from before…" she said softly, holding it out to him. "I wanted to return this."
___
Author's Note:
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