"Hmm... You truly are special."
As he walked, Nightmare's ethereal voice suddenly echoed in Greg's mind, carrying a hint of inquiry and a touch of confusion.
This was the first time she had spoken since Greg woke up.
"Despite forcibly devouring the power of an Outer God—even if it was but a negligible fragment—the filth and mental erosion contained within are no small matter. Yet, after sleeping for only a day and a night, your Spiritual Sea has returned to tranquility, and the signs of backlash are minimal... This resistance is truly surprising."
Nightmare paused, her tone laced with a clear question:
"Could it be... that before meeting me, you had already encountered them in some form, thereby developing a sort of... adaptability?"
Greg kept a wary eye on his surroundings through his peripheral vision while responding irritably in his mind.
"Encountered my foot! If I had come across those sanity-draining things before, would I have acted so resistant and ignorant the first time you mentioned the term 'Outer God'?"
He paused, then threw the question back at her.
"I should be asking you, Hajimi. Why are you so obsessed with killing them? Don't give me any of that pretty talk about saving the world. From what I know of you, you're not exactly a righteous deity possessed by a spirit of selfless devotion."
"Heh."
Nightmare let out a low chuckle.
"It seems you are indeed becoming more familiar with my style. You're right; my desire to erase those Outer Gods is naturally not out of some noble sentiment of salvation, but because—"
At that point, Nightmare suddenly fell silent. She had just realized that she didn't seem to know why she wanted to kill them so badly either.
Thinking carefully, it occurred to her that ever since she had awakened not long ago, she had been acting purely on the impulse to kill them, but she had never once considered why.
She began to search through her memories, but she couldn't find anything related to it.
Only then did she realize that there seemed to be a void in the memories she had assumed were complete.
"Hey, why did you stop talking all of a sudden?" Greg urged.
Nightmare: "My apologies. Regarding that point, I cannot recall it at all right now, but my heart truly yearns for their death."
Greg: "No way, sister! Are you really going to become another riddler on me!?"
Despite his complaints, through his mysterious and profound soul-bond with Nightmare, Greg could clearly perceive that she wasn't lying. Her confusion and the shock of discovering the blank space in her memory were genuine.
This cast a shadow over his heart as well.
Nightmare's missing memories surely hid some deeper secret, though he couldn't tell if that secret was good or bad.
Ultimately, he could only shake his head helplessly, pushing those inexplicable questions aside for the moment to ask about something else.
"Then what were you doing coming out in the middle of the night? And you bit the gray-haired brat... I mean, Victoria. She was complaining to me this morning, saying her wrist was bitten by a weird black cat and it took her forever to deal with it."
At this, Nightmare's voice immediately regained its lazy and self-righteous tone.
"Did I not tell you long ago? I am quite fond of your physical vessel. In the quiet of the night, when the mood strikes, I occasionally wish to come out and look at your sleeping face."
Greg's lip twitched, and he made no effort to hide his look of disgust. "...You're a pervert."
"A pervert?"
Nightmare seemed to find the word interesting, her voice taking on a playful edge.
"The love of beauty is shared by both humans and gods. Besides, I see you on a daily basis, looking at those exceptionally beautiful girls around you with eyes full of... well, worldly desires, do I not?"
Greg nodded. "Well, that's true."
As a youth raised in the twenty-first century, his appreciation for beautiful things had always been straightforward.
When it came to vice, he was firmly against things like gambling or drugs, but he had always maintained an open attitude toward the healthy pursuit and appreciation of 'beauty.'
So, Nightmare's words were technically correct in a way.
"But I appreciate from afar. I don't crawl to the head of someone's bed in the middle of the night, and I certainly don't go around biting people!"
Greg immediately found a point to argue.
"Why did you have to bite Victoria? You're a goddess, not an actual cat. Do you have a biting fetish? Or is it... that you actually hate her?"
"Please do not misunderstand, my other half."
Nightmare's voice became serious, carrying a solemnity as if she were declaring a formal stance.
"I am the Goddess of Night and Secrets. I am broad-minded and certainly not the type to hold petty grudges. I have no specific likes or dislikes toward the creatures of this world. The reason I punished that gray-haired girl was purely because—"
She paused, and in a tone as if stating a universal truth, she said clearly:
"I simply, equally, loathe all women whose chests are as flat as boards. This was by no means a personal act of revenge because she interrupted my appreciation of your sleeping face. Yes, definitely not."
Greg: "..."
...
Sunlight filtered through the thin gauze curtains, turning into soft, pale gold spots that filled the pure white hospital room.
Dust motes floated in the air, slowly rising and falling within the beams of light.
On the hospital bed, the pink-haired girl's eyelashes fluttered slightly before she slowly opened her eyes, her gaze still filled with lingering sleepiness and confusion.
"Mmh..."
She let out an unconscious, faint hum and rubbed her eyes.
A second later, her memories came rushing back, and her eyes snapped wide open.
"That's... That's right! Senior Greg...!"
Realizing she had unknowingly fallen asleep, Silvia sat up abruptly and urgently turned toward the neighboring bed—
What met her eyes was an empty bed.
He... was already awake?
And... he left?
Relief and loss, the two emotions intertwined like tangled vines, instantly wrapping around her heart.
She was relieved that Senior Greg was awake.
But she felt lost because... she hadn't been able to stay by his side the moment he woke up. She hadn't been able to thank him in person, hadn't been able to see him again...
As if possessed, her gaze slowly drifted back to the empty bed.
Her eyes fell on the pillow, and she felt as if she could still see the faint afterimage of his brilliant golden hair.
She remembered the warmth from the hand she had held tightly last night, a warmth that carried a reassuring strength.
That sensation seemed to linger on her fingertips, causing a faint, unfamiliar fluttering in the depths of her heart.
"I wonder... what Senior Greg smells like...?"
The thought entered her mind without warning. The hospital room was quiet, with only the faint sound of birds chirping outside the window.
As if pulled by invisible threads, Silvia threw back the thin blanket, stepped onto the cool floor with her bare feet, and moved silently, step by step, toward the empty bed.
She hesitated for a moment, then slowly sat down, acting with great care as if afraid of disturbing something.
Then, she leaned over slightly, bringing her face close to the empty pillow, her nostrils flaring gently.
Beneath the faint scent of disinfectant, there seemed to remain an incredibly subtle, clean scent belonging to a man, mixed with the smell of sun-dried fabric and a... hard-to-describe, unique sensation that made her heart race slightly.
It wasn't strong, yet it felt like it had hooks, quietly entering her nose and stirring some hidden nerves.
It was an experience she had never had before.
It was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. In fact... it was somewhat intoxicating.
Her gaze unconsciously became dazed, her pink eyes clouding over with a misty haze.
A slender hand, as if possessing a mind of its own, slowly rose from her side. Her fingertips curled unconsciously, just about to move toward a certain spot below—
Creak—
The door to the hospital room was pushed open without warning.
"I happened to run into a limited-time sale on boxed lunches at the cafeteria while I was getting lunch, so I brought back two extra—oh! Silvia, you're awake too!"
Victoria, holding a bag with food containers in one hand, had just stepped inside when she saw the pink-haired girl sitting on the neighboring bed. A joyful smile immediately appeared on her face.
But then, a hint of confusion flashed in her gray eyes.
"Why are you... lying on Greg's bed?" she asked casually as she set the items on the table.
"I-I..."
Silvia jolted like a startled fawn, practically bouncing off the bed. Her cheeks instantly turned a deep crimson, and her eyes darted around in panic.
"I think... I was a bit groggy from sleep. I woke up once in the middle and accidentally... got the beds mixed up!"
Her voice stuttered slightly from nervousness, and her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her nightgown.
"Oh, so that's what happened."
Victoria didn't think much of it and gave an understanding smile.
She knew very well that her friend could be a bit of an airhead sometimes. Getting into the wrong bed while half-asleep sounded exactly like something Silvia would do.
"Then where is Greg? Has he already left?"
"Se-Senior Greg... he must have left already," Silvia said softly, having steadied herself slightly, though she still didn't dare meet Victoria's eyes, keeping her head down. "After all... Senior always has many important things to do."
Victoria sighed, looking at the extra portion of food she had bought with a bit of helplessness.
"I wouldn't have bought it for him if I'd known. Even if it was on sale, it's still money. The prices in this academy are truly ridiculous..."
She complained while opening two of the boxed lunches at the same time, clearly not intending to let the food go to waste.
Silvia stood to the side, a gentle and quiet smile returning to her face as she silently listened to her friend's nagging.
However, beneath that seemingly peaceful smile, a barely perceptible darkness was quietly spreading deep within the pink eyes that watched Victoria's profile.
Rate on N.U.
