"What...?" Kiel signed, the hesitant flick of his fingers barely more than a whisper in the air. Confusion danced across his face—curious, vulnerable.
"Asterialnauchseccin Elspeth Katsuragi," Astra replied softly, her voice brushing the air like wind through crystal. Each syllable lingered, delicate and deliberate. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she glanced away, eyes drawn to a far-off corner of the room, as though embarrassed by the grandeur of her own name.
Kiel stared, eyes wide with wonder. The name hit him like a wave—ancient, elegant, and powerful. For a long moment, he said nothing, only breathed it in. Compared to that, "Kiel" felt like a raindrop beside a thunderstorm.
After the silence stretched, his shoulders shook with silent laughter. He buried his face in his hands, trying and failing to stifle the grin that overtook him.
Astra crossed her arms. "Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh!"
He peeked through his fingers, still grinning. "I said I wouldn't laugh at you. But come on—that name's an entire paragraph!"
"Blame my parents," she muttered, though her smirk betrayed her amusement.
He slowly lifted his hands again, signing with careful precision.
"Astra. May I… call you Astra? For short?"
A smile ghosted across his lips as he leaned back with a weary groan, letting the name rest on his tongue like a blessing.
Amused, Astra's lips curved. She tilted her head thoughtfully. "You know what? For you, I'll allow it. But I think it's only fair I learn yours in return." Her eyes met his, full of gentle anticipation.
Kiel froze. Silence draped the room once more, heavier this time. He turned his gaze to the ceiling as if searching for answers in the patterns above. His fingers twitched at his side. It wasn't that he couldn't tell her—it was that he shouldn't. Not yet. Not when he barely believed it himself.
Astra stood, disappointment flickering across her face. She turned slightly, preparing to leave.
Then his hands lifted again.
"You... can call me Kiel. Just Kiel."
His movements were deliberate, layered with reluctance and quiet strength, like someone peeling off armor. He didn't meet her eyes.
"If that's even really it," he added, signing the last phrase like a wound he wasn't ready to show.
Astra blinked. "You don't know your own name?" Her voice cracked with disbelief.
"An admission of fear, perhaps?"
His jaw clenched, frustration tightening in his posture.
"Just bits. Little pieces. I don't remember anything—except waking up to finding myself in this city of all places."
"But why here?"
"I don't know." He shook his head, the motion short, jerky. "I guess I thought maybe… stepping into this city would wake something up? A memory? But… I don't know. It's complicated."
Astra's brows lifted. "Complicated, huh? So… you're really a Kaiju." Her tone wavered, hands trembling slightly as she steadied them against the back of a chair. "No parents? Siblings? Anyone?"
He lowered his hands, uncertain. "I was born like this, I think. A Kaiju. I don't know what else I'm supposed to be."
"You sure are unsure about all of things," she exhaled, thoughtful. "What do you do remember?"
Kiel signed haltingly.
"I remember... Waking up. A TV screen. Putting on clothes. Clothes and more TV screens. Then… someone came with me. I had to stop him because—"
His signs faltered. "I can't think. It's all noise in my head."
He dropped his hands, face twisted in anguish.
"I can't remember! Why? Why can't I remember?"
Astra stepped forward, her hand brushing his gently. Her touch was warm, grounding.
"Because your mind's still healing. You can't force it—believe me, I've tried." A small laugh escaped her, tender and knowing. "But you're doing okay, Kiel—just Kiel."
She gave his hand a comforting squeeze before turning to retrieve a metal pail from the floor.
"Get some rest. Make sure you're stable." Her voice held a quiet command, the kind that offered safety rather than control.
Kiel watched her cross the room, an ache blooming in his chest that he hadn't expected.
"You guys sure are… different," he signed. "You're not afraid of me. Most people are. They look at me like I'm dangerous. Once, I returned a man's wallet and he screamed at me that I stole it."
His fingers curled, his expression darkening. "It's like the word 'logic' breaks around me."
Astra looked back with a smirk.
"Oh, Still hung up on that? Would you rather we toss you out instead?"
Kiel blinked. Then quickly signed, "No."
"Good." She chuckled, her hands echoing her words with fluid grace. "Then stop whining and let us help you."
Kiel smirked.
"Do you always say whatever pops into your head?"
He meant it teasingly, but something caught in his throat. The warmth of the room—the way she looked at him without fear—stirred something deeper.
He hesitated before signing slowly, each movement etched with sincerity.
"You know… I haven't slept under a roof in a long time."
He bit his lip. The moment felt fragile.
His hands trembled slightly as he finished.
"Thank you."
The weight of it filled the room like sunlight.
Astra softened, her eyes reflecting the depth of his gratitude.
"You're welcome," she whispered, her voice barely above a breeze. "Now, you sleep. We'll handle everything else later."
She moved to the door, then turned back, her gaze steady.
"Don't worry about anything, okay? Everything will be alright. You'll be fine."
When the door closed behind her, Kiel let his head fall back. The silence was different now—no longer lonely, but gentle.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to truly rest.