"Did you pack everything for her?" Bruno asked, kneeling to slip my shoes onto my feet. His gaze flicked toward Elza, who was currently wrestling a suitcase the size of a small boulder toward the door.
I blinked. Wait.
Since when did I even own that much stuff?!
"Absolutely everything is in there, Bruno," she huffed, dropping the case with a loud thud before shaking out her fingers. "I practically started a week ago! There's no way I missed anything."
A week?!
Ayooo, what, were those suitcases overflowing with dread or something? Just what did she manage to cram in there?!
Before I could recover from the shock, Elza's sharp gaze landed on me, her smile faltering slightly.
"Lily… why are you wearing that cloak?" she asked, already reaching for the fabric draped over my shoulders.
I stiffened.
Uh. I needed it, obviously. Control Flow and all that stuff.
Not because it looked cool or anything! Definitely not that. Pffft. No way.
But before I could protest, she easily pried it off me with the strength of a determined mother.
I pouted, crossing my arms.
I repeat—She helped me take it off, okay? She didn't force it off me.
"Why not let her wear it?" Bruno asked, his brows arched a little.
Elza let out a sigh, rubbing her forehead. "You spoil her too much, Bruno," she muttered before turning back to me. "Sweetheart, this is for emergencies, not everyday wear. It'll make her look like a Chuuni."
Bruno chuckled, standing up and stretching his arms behind his head. "What's wrong with a little attention?"
Elza shot him a look before wielding a comb like a weapon.
"Forget the cloak for now!" she declared, bustling behind me with practiced efficiency.
And just like that, the war on my hair began.
I barely had time to react before she started taming my unruly mane, swiftly brushing out the stubborn knots with the kind of determination only a mother possessed.
"Even though Romeo's taking her, she still needs to make a good impression," she continued, tugging the comb through my hair. "No offense, honey, but your brother will probably parade her around like a prize."
Bruno let out a deep laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll have a word with him about that," he said, checking his watch. "He should be here in about half an hour. Thank goodness we weren't scrambling at the last minute."
Elza hummed in agreement, finally setting the comb aside.
"Alright, Lily," she said, her voice softening, "any particular hairstyle you want today?"
Hairstyles? Not exactly my forte. In my past life, I barely spared my hair a second thought. But hey, being a girl in this world comes with certain... image expectations, I suppose.
After a thoughtful hum, I offered, "A ponytail sounds good! Thanks, Mother."
Two years zipped by in a blur, and just like that—I was six years old.
Six whole years.
Not bad, huh?
At this point, I could do anything all by myself!
…Well, in theory.
Sure, I could tie my own shoes, sprint around like a marathon champ, and—get this—with the power of a strategically placed chair, I could even reach the water jug without assistance. Revolutionary, I know. Washing dishes? Piece of cake.
But let's be honest. Why struggle when there were people around willing to spoil me?
Still, the most important thing about turning six wasn't my newfound independence.
It was the start of my official training with Romeo.
Excitement bubbled in my chest. A new world awaited me. No exaggeration.
I mean, let's be real—I was a total homebody.
No neighborhood friends. No wild solo adventures. I was pretty much home-taught as well. My life's résumé wasn't exactly warrior material.
But hey, I wasn't about to dwell on missed experiences. These past six years? I'd thrived in my own way. And now, the real deal was finally here!
An hour stretched into what felt like an eternity before the doorbell finally chimed. Romeo running late? So uncool, dear uncle!
I practically launched myself toward the door and flung it open, a wide grin plastered across my face.
"You're late!" I chirped, vibrating with anticipation.
Romeo ruffled my hair, a fond smile tugging at his lips before he stepped inside.
"Traffic, young lady," he sighed, feigning exhaustion. "Absolute nightmare today."
"Ugh, figures..."
But Romeo's casual greeting to my parents died in his throat the second his gaze landed on the colossal suitcases dominating the room.
He blinked.
Then blinked again.
Slowly, cautiously, he swallowed. "Look, I won't question your... packing strategy," he started, clearly debating if he even wanted the answer, "but isn't this a bit much? Kavita isn't on another planet, you know."
Mom's cheeks flushed pink. Dad, on the other hand, laughed outright.
Hefting one of the behemoth suitcases with ease, he shot Romeo a wink.
"Let's just call it a touch of parental overplanning. Now, shall we cram these into your car?"
Romeo looked between my dad and the suitcases, his expression hovering somewhere between amusement and resignation.
"If we can even fit them, that is."
Thankfully, Romeo had the foresight to bring a spacious 4x4. Because let's be real—those overflowing monstrosities wouldn't have stood a chance in a regular sedan.
With everything finally packed, Romeo hopped into the driver's seat, thoughtfully leaving room for me and my parents.
Standing before them, backpack still strapped on, a strange reluctance held me in place. My feet felt rooted to the ground, an invisible force keeping me from moving forward.
I couldn't bring myself to meet their eyes.
Instead, I stared at the floor, fingers twisting together as if they could untangle the emotions knotted in my chest.
A gentle weight settled on my shoulder.
Bruno.
I looked up—and a pang of sadness struck me.
Elza clutched her chest, her lips pressed into a tight line as if fighting back tears. Bruno, on the other hand, was the picture of calm. His gaze was steady, his soft smile a quiet promise. A lighthouse in this storm of emotions.
He reached forward, adjusting the scarf around my neck with practiced ease.
"Wrap up warm, alright? Don't go catching a chill." His voice was steady, warm, just like always.
A choked sob escaped Elza.
"And if you do," she hiccupped, "rest properly and take your vitamins. We want you back on your feet in no time!"
Bruno chuckled, his hand resting lightly against my hair. "Eat healthy, Lily. No matter how tempting, skip the fried food. Your body will thank you." His voice dipped into something more serious. "And listen to Uncle Romeo, alright? The more you follow his instructions, the more he might just spoil you rotten—even more than we do."
I huffed, rolling my eyes, but the warmth in my chest didn't fade.
"Bathe regularly. Get at least eight hours of sleep. And, sweetheart... take it easy." He lifted my bangs with practiced familiarity, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead—a warmth that pushed away the bitter winter chill.
Then, his final words:
"And most importantly, we love you. Always."
That last word hung in the air, as if sealing a promise no distance could ever break.
A gentle nudge towards Romeo's car.
One last look.
Elza had already buried herself in Bruno's embrace, her shoulders trembling.
"I won't be able to say goodbye properly..." she mumbled into his chest.
Bruno chuckled, one arm holding her close, the other waving goodbye to me.
"Good luck, Lily!" he boomed.
My lips trembled, my vision blurred.
But before the tears could escape—before the weight of farewell could drag me down—I spun on my heel and jumped into the car, slamming the door shut.
See you later, Bruno. Elza.
Those six years with you?
They were paradise.
But...
My journey needed to start.
Romeo shot me a glance, amusement flickering in his eyes as he started the engine with a soft chuckle.
"Glad to see a bit of child in you, Young Lady," he teased.
"Shut up." My voice came out thicker than I'd intended, emotions still tangled in my throat. "If you're gonna make fun of me instead of helping me control my Flow, I'll tell Father!"
Romeo raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing another laugh. "Whoa, hold on. Didn't plan on relentless teasing. More importantly… where'd you learn to talk like that? You sound like you grew up narrating historical documentaries."
I stiffened, cheeks heating. "It's none of your business!"
A beat of silence stretched between us before he sighed.
"Alright, alright. Maybe I should apologize then."
I wiped away a stubborn tear, my voice dropping to a murmur. "Hey, Romeo… why do you always call me 'Young Lady'?" I hesitated before adding, "You never use my name. Not even my nickname."
The moment the words left my lips, I caught it—a flicker of something in his expression. A brief, nervous tension.
He scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting to the road. "Uh, well..." He let out a forced chuckle, shifting in his seat. "There's, uh… a bit of a story."
I sat up straighter, curiosity overriding my emotions.
"Tell me!" I demanded, my voice surprisingly steady despite the wobble in my lip.
Another chuckle—this time tinged with genuine amusement.
"Since when did you get so bossy, Young Lady?"
My cheeks burned hotter. "Fine," I huffed, arms crossing over my chest.
Romeo stole another glance at me, exhaling dramatically before relenting. "Okay, okay. I'll tell you. But promise not to laugh."
I nodded so fast my ponytail swished.
"Alright, alright," he said, shaking his head with a smile.
Then, a playful glint flickered in his eyes.
"See, back in the day, your dad and I made a little… pact," he began. "Whoever settled down first and had kids, the other one had to treat them like royalty."
I blinked.
"So, consider the 'Young Lady' thing your official princess treatment," he finished with a grin.
Silence settled between us.
Not awkward. Just... warm. The only sound was the steady hum of the engine, broken occasionally by Romeo's sighs.
Finally, he cast me a sideways glance, a question dancing in his eyes.
"So," he drawled, "did that story appease the princess?"
I turned my face toward the window, fighting the smile threatening to break through. But the slight uncrossing of my arms gave me away.
"Yeah, I guess it did," I mumbled.
Yeah, a little tsundere was definitely starting to rub off on me.
"Not so bad yourself, Romeo," I teased, finally meeting his eyes again.
His eyebrows shot up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he chuckled, feigning offense as he clutched his chest like I'd just dealt a fatal blow. "First names already, are we? Have I been demoted from 'Uncle' just like that?"
His over-the-top reaction sent a bubble of laughter spilling from my lips, chasing away the last remnants of my tears.
"Look at you, breaking our promise and laughing, Young Lady!" Romeo teased, a genuine smile softening his face. "But hey, it's definitely better than seeing those tears, to be honest."
---
A fresh start.
Leaving Commplant—my quiet hometown nestled near the untamed Beast Territory—felt like stepping into a new world.
In my past life, traveling meant long days spent trudging on foot or jostling inside a rickety carriage. But now? Nestled comfortably in Romeo's four-wheeled beast of metal and speed, our destination—Kavita—was just an hour away.
These cars were nothing short of a marvel.
Yet, something felt... off.
The hum of the engine filled the space between us, but Romeo... he wasn't his usual self.
His hand kept drifting to rub his neck, a sheen of sweat clinging to his forehead. His breaths were coming shorter, quicker, like he was struggling to pull in enough air.
Was he... unwell?
"Are you alright?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, concern threading my voice.
Romeo's lips twitched into a weak smile, but the tightness in his expression gave him away.
"Don't worry about a thing, Young Lady," he said lightly. But something in his tone made my stomach twist.
Then, after a pause, he exhaled.
"However… there's something you need to know."
I straightened, suddenly alert.
"It's your Flow," he admitted.
A spark of understanding ignited in my mind before he even finished.
"Remember when I mentioned it could be suffocating?" he continued, his voice edged with something close to regret. "Sadly, that's correct. It seems your presence has a... side effect on other Flow users. It makes it harder for them to breathe, to relax. Like their own energy is resisting them."
He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I won't sugarcoat it—it's... intense. But honesty's best, right?"
"... It's okay..."
This weight...
The feeling of being the reason behind someone else's distress—yeah, that was familiar.
Too familiar.
So, even here, in this so-called second chance, my powers would ostracize me?
Was the dream of doing good, of making a real difference, just a naïve fantasy?
No matter how hard I fought, would I always be dragged back into the dark?
My tiny fists clenched, knuckles turning white under the strain. Frustration boiled in my chest, a quiet storm brewing.
But before I could sink any deeper, a warm hand landed gently on my shoulder.
Romeo's voice, steady and unwavering, cut through the whirlwind inside me.
"No matter what happens, Young Lady, you'll learn to control your powers."
His grip was firm—not restraining, but anchoring.
"We'll work on it together, and you'll become amazing. I promise."
His words seeped into me, steady and sure, like sunlight breaking through a thick fog. A balm on a wound I didn't realize was still raw.
I looked up at him, guilt pressing at the edges of my heart. But instead of judgment, Romeo's eyes held something else entirely—faith.
Unlike my past life, I wasn't alone.
Not this time.
Here, I had love. Support. A real beginning.
A tiny, hesitant smile tugged at my lips.
Maybe, just maybe... Romeo was right.
Overthinking wouldn't change anything.
Whatever was coming—I'd face it. No more expectations, no more pointless worries.
---
The car slowed to a stop, jolting me out of my reverie.
I blinked, glancing at the dashboard clock. An hour? Had we really been driving that long?
That didn't seem right.
Romeo hopped out first, his movements sharp, deliberate. He rounded the car with purpose, yanking open my door with a flourish.
"We're here, Young Lady."
His voice was steady, but his expression? Pure annoyance.
Brows furrowed, jaw tight—yep, he was definitely not thrilled.
I frowned, peering past him. Instead of the bustling cityscape of Kavita, we were at the edge of nowhere.
Beyond us stretched a vast, snow-laden forest, untouched by civilization. No towers, no neon lights, no city buzz. Just the whispering hush of the wind through the trees.
And standing in the midst of it all was a single oakwood house, nestled deep within the snow.
A cabin?
I turned to Romeo, confusion tightening my features. "This… isn't Kavita."
Romeo chuckled, shaking his head. He reached for my hand, leading me toward the house.
"Not quite," he admitted, "There's someone I want you to meet. Would that be alright?"
A strange anticipation curled in my chest. The fact that he had a key—that he walked in without hesitation—meant whoever lived here was important to him.
But who?
The moment we stepped inside, darkness swallowed us whole.
The only light? A faint glow from a single room down the hall.
Then, Romeo's voice boomed.
"HEY, LOU! WAKE UP, FOR GOODNESS' SAKE!"
I flinched. That was the loudest I'd ever heard him.
No—the second loudest.
The first time had been… when he fought with Elza. Yeah…
Romeo strode ahead, leading me toward the only illuminated room. Without hesitation, he released my hand and marched toward a sofa piled high with blankets.
His exasperated sigh filled the room. "Lou," he grumbled, "come on, wake up."
I edged closer to Romeo, drawn to the solid reassurance of his presence.
He stood with his hands planted firmly on his hips, staring down at the mountain of blankets swallowing the sofa.
So, this was Lou?
A pungent stench invaded my senses—stale air, sweat, and something faintly metallic. My nose crinkled in protest. As my gaze swept the room, my stomach turned.
Empty beer cans. A lone, moldy scrap of bread, empty ramen packs.
Seriously? This guy lived like this?
"Lou!" Romeo's voice thundered, shaking the room. "Did you hear me? GET UP!"
No response.
With a fed-up sigh, Romeo reached forward and ripped the blankets away.
The heap of fabric collapsed, revealing a man who looked more suited to a crypt than a living room.
Lou.
His long unkempt black hair clung to his forehead, slick with sweat. His bloodshot eyes barely opened, lost in a haze of sleep and—judging by the cans littering the floor—something stronger. His limbs sprawled lifelessly, as if he'd long forgotten the concept of movement.
Then, without warning, his eyes snapped open. Alarmed.
A sharp breath hitched in my throat.
Wild. Untamed. His black gaze darted around the room, unseeing, unfocused—until, finally, it locked onto me.
A strange shiver skated down my spine.
Not just because of the abruptness—but because of the sheer hostility bleeding from him.
A glint of metal.
My breath hitched. He moved fast. Too fast I didn't see him.
Before I could react, his hand shot out from beneath the blankets, clutching something deadly.
Steel. Serrated. A sword.
The blade gleamed cold in the dim light, its jagged edge hovering inches from my throat.
"You…" His voice rasped through the stillness, low and hoarse.
The sword trembled in his grip, mirroring the tremor rippling through my chest.
His eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into mine.
Then, a single whisper, edged with fear and something deeper—something reverent.
"What… are you?"
A breath. A pause.
Then, his shaky grip tightened.
"What are you? A god?"