The corridors beyond the Imperial Hall were hushed, as though the very stones of the palace drew a careful breath after the gravitas of judgment had passed. Light, fractured and pale gold, spilled through towering crystal windows. The path toward the imperial guest wing curved with deliberate grace, diverging from the throne sector, its every turn observed by the impassive stone gazes of past emperors.
Kouki's stride was rigid, his hands clenched at his sides. The Emperor's pronouncement—your paths will diverge—reverberated in his mind, bitter and unyielding.
Ahead of him, Sora moved with her characteristic, almost ethereal, composure. And at her side—a proximity that grated on Kouki's nerves—walked Null. The space between them was negligible. Far too negligible.
Kouki's restraint fractured first.
"...So," he began, "this is it?"
Sora reduced her pace slightly, her head turning just enough to grant him a peripheral glance.
"This is procedure," she replied, "Nothing more, nothing less."
"That is not what i meant," Kouki retorted, "You are taking him. The Divine Sanctum claims him. Why?"
Her footsteps ceased. Sora turned then, finally confronting him, her gaze unwavering.
"The Divine Sanctum observes a deviation," she said with a precise tone. "It does not engage in partisan selection."
Kouki scoffed. "Funny how that deviation just happens to walk next to you."
Null, caught between the two, paused, his gaze flickering uncertainly, clearly unsure whether he should interject.
"Mr. Kouki," she stated calmly, "This does not pertain you."
That landed harder than any reprimand.
His jaw tightened, "Does it not?" he snapped, his voice rising, betraying the raw indignation beneath. "I am the Hero. I am the recipient of the world's blessing. And yet—"
He gestured sharply toward Null, a furious, sweeping arc of his hand. "—he commands your singular attention."
For the first time, a glacial coldness entered Sora's eyes.
"You are bestowed with the full imprimatur of the Empire's faith. Training. Sacred Relics. Unwavering Protection. Immense Expectation. Do not debase that by conflating it with petty envy."
Kouki flinched, the accusation a searing brand. "I was not—"
"This conversation concludes," she finished.
The Saintess resumed her measured pace, her composure utterly unruffled, as if the exchange had been but a fleeting, inconsequential breeze.
Kouki stood there for half a heartbeat before following, resentment coiled tighter in his chest.
As they neared the guest wing, the corridors narrowed, transitioning into more intimate, residential passage. The presence of imperial guards thinned.
It was then that Kouki noticed. Null walked nearer to Sora than before. Not with overt intent, perhaps, but sufficiently close that their sleeves nearly brushed. Once, as the corridor gently curved, their shoulders did make fleeting contact.
Sora startled. She immediately shifted a half-step away, posture stiffening. Her eyes flicked sideways, and for the briefest, most fleeting moment, her composure fractured. She gave an awkward, almost embarrassed glare, a faint flush bloomed across her cheeks before she masked it.
"Please mind your distance," she said, polite and firm.
Null froze.
"Oh—my apologies," he said quickly, stepping back. "My attention was… elsewhere."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "There's a lot to think about."
The words were simple, yet the profound weight they carried was anything but.
Sora hesitated, and then her expression softened.
"I understand," she said gently, "Your current situation would unsettle anyone."
Null gave a greatful nod. "I'll be more careful."
They resumed walking.
Kouki felt something snap. The way she smiled at him—that smile. The way Null received it without effort. Without worthiness. Without blessing.
His chest burned.
And then—
Just before the guest wing doors, Null turned his head. Briefly. Deliberately.
Sora, her gaze fixed ahead, remained oblivious.
But Kouki was not.
Null met his gaze—and a faint, almost imperceptible smirk played upon his lips.
Kouki's vision seemed to tint green around the edges as rage and jealousy crashed over him in waves, heat flooding his veins. His nails dug into his palms as the realization settled in his gut.
And as the ornate doors to the guest wing swung open, swallowing them one by one, Kouki understood something that made his blood boil—
Null was not merely being taken away. He was choosing how to walk there.
---
※
---
Dawn unfurled over Atlantis in layers of pale gold and drifting mist,
From the lofty window of the imperial guest wing, Kouki stood motionless, one hand resting against the frigid glass. Below, the inner courtyard had already begun its daily stir—priests in their pristine white-and-gold vestments moved with measured purpose, mana-lamps dimming as sunlight took their place.
Then, he beheld them.
Sora emerged first, her cloak meticulously fastened at her shoulders, the intricate insignia of the Divine Sanctum catching the nascent morning light. She walked with the same composed grace as always—head high, posture flawless, every step measured.
At her side walked Null. Close. Far too close.
They spoke quietly, words lost to the distance, but Sora inclined her head as she listened with genuine, focused attention. Something Kouki hadn't been given since the audience ended.
Behind them came a third figure: Elder Ozag, the senior priest of the Divine Sanctum. His age was evident in the deep lines of his face.
The conveyance awaited them at the heart of the courtyard. A divine skiff—sleek, elongated, its hull forged from sanctified crystal and argent alloy. Runes inscribed along its sides pulsed faintly, reacting to Sora's proximity. Hovering a few feet above the marble, it hummed with restrained power, wings of light folded inward like a resting bird.
Kouki's jaw tightened.
So this is immutable. Null would leave. With her.
He watched as Elder Ozag spoke a few words, his staff tapping once against the ground. The skiff lowered slightly in acknowledgment. Sora stepped aboard first, her cloak fluttering briefly before settling. Elder Ozag followed.
Null paused. For a half-heartbeat, he glanced back—toward the towering, spired silhouette of the palace. Toward Kouki's window.
Their eyes did not meet. Yet Kouki felt it nonetheless.
Null stepped onto the skiff.
The runes brightened. With a low, resonant thrum, the vehicle rose smoothly into the air. The wings of light unfurled, casting long reflections across the courtyard stones. Priests bowed as it ascended, the skiff angling toward the open sky.
Kouki's fingers curled against the frigid glass.
Higher. Higher. Until it diminished to nothing more than a vanishing streak of silver against the burgeoning morning clouds.
Something twisted in his chest—a hot, sharp, humiliation. Envy. Resentment.
He turned away from the window, his shadow stretching long across the chamber floor.
"Just you wait," he muttered, his voice a low, venomous rasp. "Unblessed extra."
The words tasted bitter—ye satisfying, a small.
"When I became strong" he continued, his eyes. "when I lay the Empire prostrate at my feet—"
He paused, his expression hardening. "—I'll personally deal with you and liberate Saintess Sora from your nefarious clutches."