Earth was quiet.
Well, as quiet as Earth could be when half the planet was slowly losing its faith, burning in its own sins, and blissfully unaware that Heaven and Hell were closer than ever.
The city was blanketed in a silver-gray dusk. The streets below were a blur of headlights, cigarette smoke, and the occasional scream echoing off empty alleyways. Somewhere, a preacher shouted into a mic, declaring the end was near. No one listened.
On top of the same old building—the one that had become their unofficial meeting spot—Kikidori sat, legs dangling off the edge, staring down at the mortals like he was watching a nature documentary.
He exhaled, the smoke from his cigarette curling around his head like a halo made of sin.
"Tch," he muttered. "Idiots. Every last one of 'em."
He didn't even flinch when the golden glow appeared behind him.
Haruna stepped out of her portal, a soft hum surrounding her as she approached. She was glowing—but not in the radiant, holy way angels usually did. This was... quieter. Dimmer. A kind of glow you only noticed if you looked real close.
She stepped beside him and sat down, wrapping her arms around her knees.
"Hey," she said.
Kikidori didn't look at her. "Took you long enough."
"I had to make sure no one was watching me," she said softly. "Heaven doesn't really like when we hang out."
"Fuck Heaven," Kikidori muttered.
"Yeah," she said. Then blinked. "Wait, no, I didn't mean—!"
Kikidori smirked, finally glancing at her. "Heh. Got your ass again."
Haruna sighed. "You're a menace."
"Damn right."
They sat in silence for a moment. The wind whistled gently past them, catching the ends of her hair and the edges of his coat. For once, neither of them had anything sarcastic to say.
Until Kikidori spoke up again.
"So," he began, flicking ash into the night. "You gonna tell me why you're here? Or are we just gonna sit here like a couple of awkward teenagers at prom?"
Haruna gave a small smile. "I wanted to talk."
"Of course you did. You always wanna talk. You're an angel. Talking's your superpower."
"And being an asshole is yours."
"Damn right again."
She chuckled. Then grew quiet. "I just… I've been thinking. About us."
Kikidori raised an eyebrow, his smile faltering just slightly.
"There's no 'us,'" he said. "Just a demon and an angel who tolerate each other."
She didn't respond immediately. Her eyes were locked on the horizon, where the city lights bled into the dusk like they were trying to chase away the dark.
"That's what I thought too," she said. "But then why do I keep coming back?"
Kikidori shifted uncomfortably. "I dunno. Brain damage?"
"I'm serious."
"I'm not."
Haruna turned to him, eyes searching his face for something. He felt it—her stare. It was gentle but piercing, like she was trying to see past every curse word, every wall, every demon-like grin.
And it pissed him off. Because she *could.*
"Every time I see you," she whispered, "I wonder why I don't hate you."
"Plenty of people do," he muttered. "You'd be in great company."
"Maybe I don't want to be in that company."
He looked at her now, fully.
Her hair was catching the starlight, her eyes soft but filled with this strange, unbearable truth. And for once, she wasn't smiling in that angelic, too-good-for-this-place kind of way. She looked human. Tired. Vulnerable.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Haruna."
"So are you."
Another beat of silence. Then Kikidori looked away again.
"I don't do feelings," he said. "I do death. Chaos. Screaming. I'm not the guy you—"
"I know," she cut in.
"You don't *know* shit."
"I know I feel something when I'm around you."
"Maybe it's nausea."
"Maybe it's not."
He looked at her again, hard this time, like he was trying to glare her away. It didn't work. She was still there. Still glowing. Still fucking *real.*
His cigarette had burned out, but he didn't light another. Just let it hang between his fingers like a forgotten habit.
"I hate this," he said.
"I know."
"I hate *you.*"
"I know."
"I hate that I'm thinking about—"
"Me?" she asked, voice soft.
"Shut up," he muttered.
Then she did something she never did.
She leaned in.
He didn't move.
She got closer.
He still didn't move.
Their faces were inches apart now. Her breath was warm, sweet—like sunlight and mercy. His was laced with smoke and the scent of burned earth.
And then—
They kissed.
It wasn't some magical, swirling, golden-light-and-fire type kiss. It was clumsy. Rough. His hand found her waist, hers curled in his coat. There was hesitation. Surprise. Confusion. Fire. Electricity.
But neither pulled away.
Not at first.
When they finally did, it was like the entire world took a breath and didn't know what to do with it.
Haruna blinked. Her cheeks were flushed, her fingers trembling.
Kikidori just stared at her like she'd just punched him in the soul.
"I didn't plan that," she whispered.
"No shit," he replied, voice hoarse.
"…Do you regret it?"
He looked away, jaw tight. "…Not yet."
She smiled, this small, almost broken smile that made her glow all over again.
"Then maybe…" she said, "we don't have to figure everything out right now."
He rolled his eyes. "That's the most angelic, hopeful bullshit I've ever heard."
"But you don't disagree."
"Fuck off."
Haruna just laughed, and they both sat back down, side by side again. Not holding hands. Not touching.
But closer.
Closer than they'd ever been.
the end of chapter 29