Mira's POV (First Person)
The night felt quieter than usual.
Not empty.
Just… softer.
Cool air brushed gently against my skin as I sat in the garden, knees drawn slightly closer, fingers loosely wrapped around them.
I didn't turn the lights on.
I didn't want to.
The darkness didn't feel heavy tonight.
It felt… calm.
Above me, the half-moon rested quietly in the sky, its silver light falling gently across the garden, touching the petals of the flowers I had known my entire life.
Cherry blossoms swayed lightly with the breeze.
A few petals drifted down, slow and unhurried.
I watched them fall.
"…you're lucky…"
I whispered softly.
"…you don't have to prove anything to anyone…"
They just existed.
And that was enough.
A small breath escaped me.
"…I wish it was that simple…"
The events of the day still lingered somewhere inside me.
Not loud anymore.
Not overwhelming.
Just… present.
Like a quiet ache.
"I didn't break…"
I reminded myself again.
Not because I was close to breaking.
But because I wanted to stay strong.
Even now.
Even when no one was watching.
"…I'll be okay…"
"You keep saying that."
My breath stopped.
That voice.
Low.
Familiar.
Close.
I turned slowly.
And there he was.
Azael.
Standing just beyond the garden gate, half-hidden in shadows, the moonlight outlining his figure just enough to make him look… unreal.
For a moment—
I forgot how to breathe.
"…sir…?"
Why is he here?
How did he—
When did he—
None of my thoughts completed.
Because he stepped forward.
And the moment he did—
everything else faded.
The sound of the wind.
The rustling of leaves.
Even my own heartbeat felt distant.
"You shouldn't sit in the dark."
His voice was calm.
But softer than usual.
Not cold.
Not distant.
Just… quiet.
"I like it."
The answer came out before I could think.
Then I paused.
"…it feels peaceful…"
Azael's gaze shifted slightly, taking in the garden, the flowers, the drifting petals.
"…this place suits you."
I blinked.
"…it does…?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"Uncomplicated."
I didn't know if that was a compliment.
But somehow—
it felt like one.
Silence settled between us.
Not awkward.
Just… still.
He didn't leave.
And I didn't ask him to.
"…why are you here…?"
The question slipped out softly.
Honest.
Curious.
Azael looked at me.
Directly.
No hesitation.
"You were wronged."
My fingers tightened slightly.
"…it's okay now…"
"No."
The word came instantly.
Firm.
"It's not."
I looked down for a second.
"…it will be…"
Silence.
Then—
"You didn't defend yourself."
I expected that.
But hearing it again—
still made my chest tighten slightly.
"…I said I didn't do it…"
"That's not enough."
His voice wasn't harsh.
But it carried weight.
"…I don't know how to fight like that…"
There it was.
The truth.
Simple.
Unfiltered.
"I don't know how to make people believe me."
Azael stepped closer.
Not abruptly.
Not forcefully.
Just enough.
"Then don't."
I looked up.
"…don't…?"
"Don't try to make them believe."
A pause.
"Make them realize they were wrong."
I held his gaze.
"…that sounds difficult…"
"It is."
Silence.
"…I might fail…"
"You won't."
His answer came too quickly.
Too certain.
Like failure was never an option.
"…how do you know…?"
Azael's eyes didn't leave mine.
"Because I'm here."
My breath caught.
Not because of the words.
But because of how he said them.
Like it wasn't reassurance.
It was a decision.
A promise.
Something that didn't change.
"…you didn't have to come…"
"I did."
Again.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just truth.
A soft breeze passed between us.
Cherry blossom petals drifted down again, one landing lightly on my shoulder.
I didn't notice.
But he did.
His hand lifted slightly.
Paused.
Just for a second.
Then—
he removed it gently.
Carefully.
Like it was something fragile.
His fingers brushed my shoulder briefly.
And for some reason—
my heart reacted.
Faster.
Louder.
"…thank you…"
The words came out softer than I expected.
Not just for that.
For everything.
For believing me.
For coming here.
For… this moment.
Azael looked at me.
Quietly.
Then—
"You trust too easily."
I blinked.
"…I do…?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"But not wrongly."
I didn't fully understand that.
But I didn't question it.
"…everyone thought I did it…"
My voice dropped slightly.
"…but you didn't…"
Silence.
Then—
"I don't follow 'everyone.'"
A small breath escaped me.
"…that's good…"
Because if he did—
I think that would've hurt the most.
Another petal drifted down.
This time—
I caught it.
Without thinking.
"…they fall so softly…"
I said quietly.
"They don't resist."
Azael's voice followed.
"They don't need to."
I looked at the petal in my hand.
"…I want to be like that…"
A pause.
"…soft… but still standing…"
Silence.
Then—
"You are."
I looked up again.
"…I don't feel like it…"
"You endured."
A step closer.
"You didn't break."
His words echoed something inside me.
Something I had been holding onto all day.
"I didn't break…"
I repeated softly.
And this time—
it felt real.
Not something I was trying to believe.
Something I knew.
Azael watched me for a moment longer.
Then—
"Go back tomorrow."
My eyes widened slightly.
"…tomorrow…?"
"They'll correct everything."
"…already…?"
"Yes."
Simple.
Like it was obvious.
Like it was inevitable.
"…you did that…?"
Silence.
He didn't answer.
But he didn't need to.
I understood.
"…thank you…"
Again.
Softer.
More real.
This time—
he didn't respond with words.
Just a slight shift in his gaze.
Less distant.
Less guarded.
And for a moment—
he didn't feel unreachable.
He felt… close.
The wind moved again.
Cool.
Gentle.
Peaceful.
"…will things go back to normal…?"
I asked quietly.
"No."
My heart paused.
Then—
"They'll be better."
A small smile formed on my lips.
"…I hope so…"
Azael looked at me.
And for the first time—
there was something different in his expression.
Not cold.
Not unreadable.
Something softer.
Something quieter.
Something that didn't belong to the version of him everyone else saw.
"…you should smile more."
I froze.
"…what…?"
"You don't do it enough."
I didn't realize it until that moment.
But—
he was right.
"…maybe…"
A small pause.
"…I'll try…"
Silence.
Then—
"Don't try."
I blinked.
"…then what…?"
Azael's voice lowered slightly.
"Just don't lose it."
My heart softened.
A little.
Without permission.
Without reason.
"…okay…"
The word came out quietly.
But it stayed.
---
He turned to leave.
Just like that.
No warning.
No delay.
"…sir."
He stopped.
Not turning yet.
"…I'm glad you came."
A pause.
Then—
"…Mira."
My name.
From him.
Again.
It felt different this time.
Quieter.
Warmer.
More… real.
"You should be."
And then—
he was gone.
Like he was never there.
But the air still felt different.
Lighter.
Warmer.
I looked up at the moon again.
Cherry blossoms still falling.
Soft.
Unhurried.
And for the first time today—
I smiled.
Not forced.
Not small.
Just… real.
"…I'll be okay."
No.
More than that.
"I am okay."