With the rebuilding nearly complete, the city had taken on a quiet lull—a calm between the tides.
Helios, sprawled across a curved bench made of polished aquamarine, sighed.
"Skuld's off teaching Kida and the children magic. Again," he muttered, voice echoing off the nearby pillars. "What's a handsome genius like me to do when everyone's busy?"
Across the open platform, Kurai leaned against one of the pylons, arms folded. She stared at him with narrowed eyes, her usual deadpan expression firmly in place.
Helios perked up. "Hey, Kurai."
"What."
He stood up, brushing off imaginary dust from his jacket. "Want to walk around the city with me?"
"No."
He blinked, then gave a crooked smile. "No hesitation, huh?"
Kurai tilted her head slightly, not even bothering to hide her boredom. "What's the point?"
Helios stepped forward with a playful gleam in his eyes. "Because I'm bored. And when I'm bored, I do stupid things. You wouldn't want me to do something stupid, would you?"
She didn't answer.
He pressed on. "Come on. We'll be leaving soon. Let's take in the sights. Walk the crystal bridges. Maybe mock some Atlantean architecture. Make a date of it."
That caught her attention. She scowled. "Absolutely not. Go amuse yourself."
Helios gasped, clutching his chest in mock heartbreak. "Kurai… abandoning me in my hour of need? I might cry. The horror."
She rolled her eyes and turned away.
He wasn't finished. "Fine, then. I'll go find Skuld. She'll go on a date with me."
That stopped her cold.
A muscle twitched at the edge of her jaw. She turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "That annoying little girl?"
"Oh, don't be like that," Helios teased. "She listens. She smiles. She appreciates my brilliance."
In a single, fluid motion, Kurai crossed the distance between them, grabbed him by the collar, and hurled him toward the door with a grunt of frustration. He landed with a thud and a laugh, brushing himself off as if he expected it.
"Lead the way," she said flatly, voice like frost on steel.
Helios chuckled as he stood. "I've never had such a forceful date before. Should I be concerned or flattered?"
Kurai didn't reply. She walked past him and onto the crystalline walkway that overlooked the city. He followed, hands tucked behind his head.
They walked in silence.
Atlantis shimmered around them, alive with soft power and ancient grace. Children played by one of the fountains in the distance, guided gently by Skuld's voice as she helped them shape their first magic balls of water. Milo was trying to teach one boy how to float a stone with Water, only to accidentally douse himself and make Kida laugh.
Helios smiled faintly at the sight, but Kurai's gaze didn't follow his.
Her eyes were on the city.
Ancient murals carved into coral-stone towers. Hovering gondolas drifting silently across the upper levels. Statues of long-past kings and queens lined the walkways, their arms outstretched in welcome or farewell.
After a long moment, Kurai broke the silence. "How long do you plan to let her follow us?"
Helios didn't answer immediately.
He paused, gazing up at the massive floating crystal dome that crowned the palace. Then he resumed walking.
"For as long as she wants."
Kurai's tone remained quiet, but it cut like a blade. "She'll interfere. You know that. She sees too much. Thinks too much. You know how she sees the world. Once she realizes what we're doing…"
"She'll probably try to stop us," Helios said, voice light, like he was talking about the weather.
"Then why let her come along?"
He stopped walking.
She did too, a step behind him.
Helios glanced over his shoulder, his usual grin faded but not gone. "Because I promised I wouldn't leave her behind again."
Kurai didn't speak, but the air between them grew heavier.
"I don't make a lot of promises," Helios went on. "The ones I do, I keep. Some I don't right away due to circumstances, but I fully intend to. But the ones I make to you two are special." He turned fully to face her, his voice lower now, serious. "I intend to keep them all. Especially the ones between you and me."
Kurai stared at him for a long time, the wind tugging at her long white hair. Her silver eyes narrowed slightly, but her lips remained unreadable.
Then, wordlessly, she turned and walked past him, heading down the next bridge.
Helios didn't move for a few seconds. He stood there, absorbing the silence.
That stare wasn't just suspicion. That was her warning.
'If I try to kill her, what will you do?'
She hadn't said it aloud. She hadn't needed to.
But by walking ahead, by not pushing further… she'd given him her answer.
She wouldn't touch Skuld.
For now.
Helios caught up with her quickly. "So," he said, the lightness returning to his voice. "If I buy you something nice at one of those Atlantean stalls, does that make me your sugar daddy?"
Kurai snorted softly. "That makes you desperate. Also, if you say that again, I'll rip out your tongue."
He grinned. "Fair enough."
They passed a bridge adorned with carvings of Atlantean heroic figures—each holding what looked like early versions of crystal weapons. Some bore spears, others strange harp-like instruments or blades of pure light. Kurai glanced at them once, then looked away.
"Atlantis has its own legends," Helios remarked, hands in his pockets. "Ancient texts say some of the designs here were mimics of real ones—long lost."
"They weren't worthy to hold the truth," Kurai said, voice dismissive.
Helios side-eyed her. "You sound like Xehanort."
"I'd kill him just for the comparison."
He chuckled. "Fair again."
They stopped by a shallow platform overlooking the lower gardens. From here, they could see Skuld and Kida again. The children laughed as Skuld helped one launch a weak Blizzard spell. Milo flinched as it went wide and froze the corner of his pants.
Kurai watched silently.
"I thought you hated this city," Helios said, tilting his head.
"I do," she replied. "But the crystal veins are interesting. Efficient."
"Efficient," he echoed with a grin. "That's your way of saying 'pretty,' isn't it?"
Kurai narrowed her eyes. "I could kill you right here."
"You won't," Helios said lightly. "I think you'd miss me."
Silence again.
But she didn't deny it.
As they turned to continue the walk, a quiet warmth bloomed between them—not quite friendship, not quite romance, but something tethered by shared memory, pain, and purpose.
Helios knew she'd never say what she was thinking.
But in her silence, he found trust.
And in his, she found restraint.
They walked on, letting the stillness settle over them like twilight.