The street stretched ahead in a quiet ribbon of pale light, the streetlamps casting long, thin shadows that moved with them, stretching and shrinking with each step as if the night itself was watching their pace. The air carried a faint coolness, brushing against Arceus's skin and slipping through the folds of his jacket, yet the chill outside felt nothing compared to the restless movement inside his chest.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Or rather—
He didn't.
Serestia walked just a step behind him, her head slightly lowered, her gaze never quite meeting his, her footsteps soft but careful, as though she was measuring the distance between them with each step. It wasn't avoidance exactly, but it wasn't comfort either. It was something in between, something fragile that could tilt either way.
Arceus noticed it.
Of course he did.
Every time he slowed his pace just a little, testing the rhythm, she would adjust almost immediately, matching him without closing the gap, maintaining that small, invisible line between them like it was something she needed to hold onto.
He wanted to speak.
The urge sat heavy in his chest, pressing upward, but when it reached his throat, it stalled, caught in hesitation.
What should he say?
How should he begin?
If he asked too much—
Would she pull away?
If he stayed silent—
Would the distance grow wider?
His fingers curled slightly at his sides as he walked, his thoughts turning over themselves again and again, searching for something safe, something neutral, something that wouldn't break whatever delicate thread was forming between them.
Minutes passed.
The silence didn't disappear.
It deepened.
And with it, his unease.
You can't mess this up again.
The thought came quietly.
But it stayed.
Not this time.
He inhaled slowly.
Then—
Stopped.
His shoes scraped lightly against the pavement as he came to a halt, the sound small but enough to draw her attention.
Serestia stopped too.
Her head lifted slightly, her eyes turning toward him, confusion flickering faintly across her face.
Arceus didn't face her fully.
Not immediately.
He turned just enough, his gaze angled slightly away as if easing into the moment rather than confronting it directly.
"If you don't mind me asking…" he began, his voice careful, measured, as though he was stepping onto thin ice, "how long have you and Celia known each other?"
A brief pause.
"I mean… are you from the same college or…?"
The question hung between them.
Simple.
Safe.
Or so he thought.
Serestia answered after a moment, her voice soft, almost blending into the night.
"No," she said. "We were childhood friends."
A beat.
"We grew up together."
Arceus blinked.
The answer hit him sideways.
"Huh?"
It wasn't the answer itself—
It was what came with it.
In his past life, he had spent two years with her.
Two years close enough to believe he knew her.
And yet—
Celia had never been mentioned.
Not once.
Now—
She wasn't just someone she knew.
She was someone she had grown up with.
That realization settled heavily.
His thoughts shifted.
Quick.
Unsteady.
Why didn't she ever mention her?
The question surfaced before he could stop it.
And once it did—
It didn't leave.
Instead, it branched.
Expanded.
Was there a reason?
Another thought crept in.
Slower.
More dangerous.
Did she… have feelings for Celia?
He didn't like the direction his mind was taking.
But he couldn't stop it.
Because pieces began to connect.
Fragments from the past.
Words she had once said.
I've always known… I just suppressed it…
She hadn't discovered it suddenly.
She had carried it.
For years.
And now—
She lived with another girl.
Shared space.
Shared life.
Even when she could afford not to.
Arceus's chest tightened slightly.
Then what is this…?
The question lingered.
Uncomfortable.
Unwanted.
But persistent.
Are they just close?
Or is there something more?
The thought clung to him like something draining, something that refused to be shaken off.
He forced himself to breathe.
To step forward again.
To not let it show.
"I see…" he said after a moment, his voice steadier than his thoughts.
They resumed walking.
This time, Arceus shifted his approach.
No more personal questions.
Not yet.
He asked about her work instead.
About monster training.
About routine.
Neutral ground.
Safe topics.
Serestia responded in short replies, her voice quiet but not dismissive, answering what was asked but never expanding beyond it.
She didn't ask anything in return.
Not about him.
Not about his life.
The imbalance was clear.
But he didn't push.
Not yet.
***
The convenience store came into view just as his thoughts began to run out of things to hold onto.
Bright lights spilled out through the glass, cutting through the dimness of the street, the hum of refrigeration units faintly audible even before they stepped inside.
The door slid open with a soft mechanical sound.
Cool air rushed out to meet them.
Inside, the world felt sharper.
Clearer.
More grounded.
Arceus walked straight to the freezer, his movements instinctive, almost automatic, as if he had done this countless times before.
He opened the lid.
Cold air brushed against his hands.
He reached in.
Pulled out a chocolate cone for himself.
Then—
Without thinking—
His hand moved again.
Black raspberry chip.
For her.
The moment it touched his fingers—
Something clicked.
Too late.
Serestia noticed.
Her eyes widened slightly, her brows knitting faintly as she looked at the item, then at him.
"How do you know I like that flavor?" she asked.
Her voice carried something new.
Curiosity.
Suspicion.
"Did Celia tell you?"
Arceus froze.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
Because he hadn't thought.
He hadn't planned.
It had simply… happened.
A reflex.
A memory.
His fingers tightened slightly around the ice cream as his mind scrambled for an answer.
You messed up.
The thought hit quickly.
Sharp.
He forced a small laugh, scratching his cheek lightly, trying to smooth over the moment.
"Sorry," he said, keeping his tone casual. "It's just… my ex liked this flavor."
A brief pause.
"I guess it became a habit."
He lifted the other cone slightly.
"What do you actually prefer?"
Serestia's expression softened.
Not completely.
But enough.
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
Before he could put it back—
She reached out and took it from his hand.
"I like this," she said quietly.
Then looked away.
The answer was simple.
But it stayed.
***
At the counter, Arceus added a vanilla ice cream and a few packs of instant noodles, placing them down with a soft rustle of plastic.
Serestia reached for her wallet.
But he stopped her.
"It's fine," he said, offering a small smile. "I've got it."
She hesitated.
Then let her hand fall back.
The transaction was about to begin—
When—
Something shifted.
Subtle.
But immediate.
The air grew heavier.
Like a storm forming without warning.
Then—
Beep
Beep
Beep
Their phones vibrated at the same time, the sound sharp and synchronized, cutting through the quiet hum of the store.
Arceus's fingers paused mid-motion.
Serestia's head snapped up.
Even the cashier glanced over briefly.
All three screens lit up.
Red.
Bright.
Urgent.
A Grade-3 Instant Dungeon has been discovered.
A Grade-3 Instant Dungeon has been discovered.
A Grade-3 Instant Dungeon has been discovered.
The words pulsed.
Repeated.
Unavoidable.
Then—
A timer appeared.
90 seconds.
Counting down.
The atmosphere changed completely.
The quiet night outside—
Was gone.
Replaced by something else.
Something alive.
Something waiting.