We barely talked in high school… except when you hunted me down over unfinished homework.
The thought rose quietly in Arceus's mind, carrying a faint trace of old irritation and something softer beneath it, something he didn't quite name. It lingered for a moment, then dissolved before reaching his lips.
In the end, he simply smiled.
"I hope so," he said, keeping his tone light. "Thanks."
Celia nodded, accepting the answer without pressing further. She stood up with an easy motion and turned toward the kitchen, her steps relaxed, familiar with the space in a way that made it feel lived in rather than arranged.
"Alright," she said over her shoulder, "if you have your ID now, you can give it to me and we'll register you in the apartment database. Or you can do it when you move in."
"Yeah, that's not a problem," Arceus replied, already reaching for his wallet.
But before he could take it out—
"Not right now."
He paused.
Celia glanced back at him, a small, almost playful smile forming.
"Come," she said. "Join me for dinner."
The scent reached him fully now.
Warm.
Comforting.
Braised tofu soaked in savory sauce, steamed rice carrying that soft, gentle heat that wrapped around the senses. It wasn't extravagant, but it felt… complete. Like something made with intention rather than convenience.
"Uhh… I already—" he began, instinctively raising a hand in refusal.
But Celia cut him off smoothly.
"C'mon," she said, waving him over with her chopsticks. "Don't be so modest, classmate."
Arceus hesitated.
His gaze dropped, almost unconsciously, to his abdomen, as if checking whether there was still room left.
There wasn't much.
But—
A small sigh escaped him.
"…Alright."
He stood.
***
They sat across from each other at the dining table, the space modest but warm, the soft clinking of utensils and the faint hum of the apartment filling the background like a quiet rhythm.
Celia scooped rice into her bowl, her movements natural, unhurried.
"So," she began casually, as if continuing a conversation that had already started somewhere else, "if you're planning to sell monster eggs and pet food again…"
She glanced up at him.
"You're thinking of renting a store around this area, right?"
Arceus nodded, picking up his chopsticks, though his attention was already shifting toward where the conversation might go.
"Yeah."
Celia raised a brow slightly.
"Have you ever thought about going fully digital?"
He paused mid-motion.
"Digital?"
She echoed lightly, "Digital."
Then continued, gesturing with her chopsticks as if sketching the idea in the air.
"Set up a cloud store," she said. "Sell online instead of running a physical shop."
Her tone was casual.
But the idea wasn't.
"No rent headaches. No staff. No utility bills draining you slowly." She reached for the soy sauce, adding a small drizzle. "You cut down most of your costs instantly."
A small pause.
"And let's be honest… most people buy online anyway."
Arceus didn't respond immediately.
Her words sank in.
Slowly.
Deeply.
"Especially now," she added, glancing toward the window as if referencing the city beyond it. "With corporations buying out all the street-level spaces."
Arceus looked down at his bowl, the steam rising faintly, his thoughts beginning to rearrange themselves.
"But…" he said after a moment, his voice thoughtful, "it's a pet store."
He lifted his gaze.
"Pet food, sure… that can be sold online."
A slight frown formed.
"But what about the eggs?"
Celia didn't hesitate.
"People buy those too."
Simple.
Matter-of-fact.
"You don't need a physical store anymore to run a business," she continued. "Just rent a small storage space, keep your stock there, and sell through an established online platform."
She leaned back slightly.
"When you make enough… then you open a physical store."
The idea expanded in his mind.
Layer by layer.
System shop.
Inventory.
No need for storage.
No upfront stock cost.
Arceus's fingers tightened slightly around his chopsticks.
"…That's right…"
His thoughts began to accelerate now, pieces clicking together with a clarity he hadn't felt in days.
"I get eggs directly from the system," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "I just need to register a business and bind the system to it…"
His eyes lifted, a faint spark igniting.
"With the inventory space… I don't even need a warehouse."
The realization hit fully.
"I could run everything from here."
Orders.
Processing.
Shipping.
Minimal cost.
Minimal risk.
His breathing shifted, just slightly.
"I could even invest the remaining money…" he continued, his voice gaining energy. "Fixed deposits… stable returns…"
Numbers began forming instinctively in his mind.
"Just the interest alone…" he said, leaning back slightly now, almost stunned by the simplicity of it, "could cover rent, meals… bills…"
The silence that followed wasn't empty.
It was full.
Of clarity.
Of possibility.
He looked at her.
Really looked this time.
"You've just…" he said slowly, his voice soft but filled with genuine weight, "solved everything."
A small pause.
"Thank you," he added. "Seriously."
Celia smiled, lifting her bowl slightly as if in acknowledgment.
"Don't mention it," she said. "It's nothing big."
But it wasn't nothing.
Not to him.
***
The conversation drifted after that.
Light.
Easy.
Fragments of shared past, small jokes, harmless topics that didn't carry weight, like two people testing the waters of familiarity after years apart.
Yet—
Every so often—
His gaze shifted.
Toward that door.
Closed.
Quiet.
Serestia.
He found himself waiting.
Listening for movement.
For the handle to turn.
For another brief appearance.
But—
Nothing.
Just silence.
He knew that silence.
Knew that distance.
She had always been like that.
Even back then.
Some things, it seemed, didn't change.
Eventually—
There was nothing more to wait for.
Arceus stood.
He transferred the deposit.
1000 credits.
Plus the first month's rent.
Simple.
Clean.
Done.
He bowed slightly, a gesture of respect more than formality.
"Thanks for the dinner," he said. "I'll bring my things next week."
"Bring your ID," Celia reminded, her smile faint but steady. "Don't forget."
"I won't."
He turned.
Walked toward the door.
Stepped out.
***
The hallway stretched ahead of him, quiet and still.
Behind him—
The door remained closed.
Celia stood there for a few seconds, watching his retreating figure, her gaze thoughtful, something subtle passing through her expression.
Then—
A small smile formed.
"Need to inform Grandpa Blaze…" she murmured under her breath, almost amused. "Contact made successfully."
***
Moments later—
A door creaked open.
Serestia stepped out, her fingers still twitching slightly, as if her hands hadn't fully left whatever game she had been playing.
She dropped onto the couch with a soft thud, her expression tightening just a little.
"You really gave the room to him?"
Celia raised a brow, turning toward her.
"Why not?"
Serestia crossed her arms, her ears tinting faintly red as she avoided direct eye contact.
"He's…" she hesitated, her voice dropping slightly, "he's handsome."
The admission came out reluctantly.
"You know I don't deal well with that type," she added quickly. "It'll be… weird."
Celia's lips curved slowly.
Not just a smile.
Something sharper.
Something far more entertained.
She walked over, draping an arm casually around Serestia's shoulders, pulling her slightly closer.
"Exactly," she said, her tone light, teasing, almost delighted.
"That's why I chose him."
Serestia stiffened.
"What?"
Celia grabbed a packet of chips from the table and tossed it toward her.
"You need exposure therapy," she continued, utterly unbothered, her grin widening. "Consider this… a life upgrade."
Serestia stared at her like she had just declared war.
"Maybe," Celia added, tapping her lightly, "with him around, you'll finally start working out properly and take care of your figure."
Serestia groaned, grabbing a pillow and burying her face halfway into it.
"I'm not fat…"
Celia laughed, sitting down beside her, clearly enjoying herself.
Her hand moved without warning—
Pinch.
"Look," she said, teasing mercilessly. "It's already starting."
Serestia jolted, her cheeks flushing instantly as she swatted Celia's hand away.
"Stop it!"
She tore open the snack packet with unnecessary force, sulking, her movements exaggerated in protest.
But—
She didn't leave.
Didn't move away.
She stayed there on the couch, grumbling quietly, while Celia leaned back beside her, still smiling like someone who had just set something interesting into motion.
And somewhere in that small apartment—
Without anyone realizing it fully—
Several threads had begun to intertwine.