Despite their different races and backgrounds, the time Sū ěr spent with Think and Jibril couldn't feel more like family. The initial impulsiveness had faded, replaced by a quiet, grounding peace.
It was different from his time with Riku and Couronne, but it was family nonetheless.
Think was currently playing a game of chess from her hometown with Tet. The genius Elf was biting her thumb, her brain working at high speed to find a way through Tet defenses.
As the god born from the concept of games, Tet was naturally formidable. Even though Sū ěr didn't fully understand the board, he could tell Tet had the upper hand.
But Think didn't give up. The disadvantage actually excited her; she was racking her brain for a win. Sū ěr had played chess with her before, but his skills were... negligible. He couldn't provide a challenge, so they'd stopped; stomping him every time was boring for her.
Because of that, she was now fully immersed in the game, enjoying every second.
Every game had stakes. Tet bet knowledge on energy conversion; Think bet... the truth.
To put it simply, if she lost, Tet would make her say something—in front of Jibril—that was as embarrassing as what Jibril had said. Something that would turn her into "white ash."
Sū ěr was rooting for her to lose.
He didn't dare let the Great Nirvalen know that, or he'd be in for a world of hurt. But he kept giving Tet encouraging looks.
The room was crowded, but not hot. Magic was the ultimate utility; the temperature was perfect.
The room Sū ěr rented was basic—a place to crash so he'd feel like a city dweller. If someone wanted to use this as a "marital home," it would be a fantasy. It was a studio apartment.
Outside the small glass door was a tiny strip of corrugated metal. Calling it a balcony was an insult to the word, but it was enough for one person to stand on, and it was used for drying clothes.
The temperature spell only covered the room. The moment Sū ěr stepped out and closed the glass door, he felt like he'd moved from a dry, cool interior to a hot, humid coastal zone.
His fingers felt the moisture in the air; his nose caught the salty sea breeze. His breath grew heavy.
City nights without rain are always stifling. Sū ěr couldn't tell if it was the "heat island effect," but he found himself squinting, his eyes crinkling with a hidden smile.
He couldn't resist looking back inside. The vampire—still staying with them until Araragi decided—was quietly eating. Jibril was fluttering next to her, likely giving her a lecture on snack appreciation. The vampire seemed to be arguing back.
On the other side, the game between Think and Tet continued. Think seemed to have regained some ground; she was smiling brilliantly, her furrowed brow relaxing. She'd probably said something provocative to Tet, because he was doing his signature... crooked grin.
Now Think was frowning again.
Pfft.
It was rare to see Think struggle in the intellectual department. Sū ěr snickered, pulled out his phone, and took a secret photo of the Elf's distressed but cute expression. He didn't miss the "child angel" turned "snack critic" either.
Two more for the collection.
It was good. In that other world, even when they had a moment of peace, they had to worry if some crazy person would blow up the planet. Back then, this was the life Sū ěr longed for.
Being with people he loved, spending every day together, playing, eating, living... what more could he ask for?
At least they were alive. At least they could see each other. They weren't separated by life and death.
The world might be moved by tragedies, remembering only the bitter partings, while happy endings are forgotten in months. But Sū ěr was satisfied. He was glad there was no more "drama."
"What are you thinking about?"
A sudden voice. Two small arms rested on the railing next to him. It was the "snack critic" herself, Jibril.
The Flügel must have noticed Sū ěr glance. She'd used spatial transition to appear by his side.
"...Why'd you come out here?" Sū ěr didn't answer. He just looked at the feathers falling from her wings. When they touched the metal floor, they dissolved into clean spirits.
He wasn't sure if it was just him, or if it was the change in power source and her smaller size, but Jibril seemed to be "shedding" a lot. Was she going bald?
"...What are you looking at?!" Jibril snapped, pulling her wings back defensively. She looked him up and down with suspicion.
"Nothing." He obviously couldn't say something that would make her jump up and pull his hair out. He just shrugged and turned back to look at the lights of the city.
"Say, don't you think the two of us leaning on the railing like this makes us look like a father and daughter?"