Succubi Chapter 43. Plushie Stays
The Scarlet Rose Estate was quiet now, most of the residents either in their rooms or pretending not to see the piggyback-ride disaster currently shuffling down their polished hallway. It made my current situation look even more ridiculous.
Sera's breath was slow and even against my shoulder. Her arms were still hooked around my neck like she had zero intention of ever walking again.
Then I stopped.
"Wait…" I turned my head slightly toward her. "I don't know where your room is."
Sera stirred, murmuring, "Seven."
"That's not helpful," I groaned. "I don't know where room seven is."
She lazily raised a hand and pointed forward. "I'll show you."
And she did. With all the energy of someone scrolling memes in bed, she guided me with slow, half-conscious gestures. Left. Right. Straight. Left again. She was basically a sleepy GPS. Eventually, we reached the seventh door down a softly lit hallway lined with paintings of crimson roses and calligraphy plaques.
"We're here," I announced like I just reached the final checkpoint of a cursed dungeon.
"Get inside," she mumbled against my back.
I paused. "Seriously?"
She answered by hugging me tighter.
I let out a long-suffering sigh. "Okay, okay…"
I pushed the door open with my foot and stepped into her room.
It was… nice. Cozy, but also a mess in a "I sleep here, breathe here, and maybe code an entire mainframe while eating chips in bed" kind of way. The air was filled with the faint scent of chamomile. A few plushies sat in the corner, silently judging us. A monitor hummed faintly on a powered desk. Her bed was oversized, layered with thick blankets that looked way too comfortable for someone who probably spent half her life unconscious on them.
I shuffled toward the bed and leaned forward slightly to drop her off.
Only… she didn't drop.
She clung tighter.
"Oh, c'mon, Sera," I groaned.
I leaned more. Nothing.
I bounced slightly. She adjusted her grip like some evolved clingy monkey.
I moved side to side like an idiot trying to shake off a living scarf. She shifted with me effortlessly, limbs locked.
And then—We both fell.
Onto the bed.
Face-first.
"Ugh—Sera!" I huffed, lifting myself up with my elbows. "You are ridiculous."
I was about to launch into a proper complaint about personal space, spinal damage, and basic human dignity when her voice cut in—quiet. Steady.
"You have to be more careful next time, Anomaly."
I blinked.
"What?"
She was still half-laying on my back but had turned her head just enough to talk into my shoulder. "A demon's after you, right? But you didn't say anything to us."
I froze.
How the hell—
"I know your regeneration's good," she continued softly. "But I checked again. Just to make sure you weren't hurt."
I sat up slightly and looked over my shoulder at her. "Wait. What? How do you know about that? Did Gladia tell you?"
She shook her head slowly. "No. I'm the most sensitive of all. I can feel changes."
I turned to her fully now. For once, she actually let go—arms slipping off me.
She looked at me with those sleepy, half-lidded eyes. "You're getting stronger. Just a bit."
I didn't say anything.
"There was an afterglow from battle all over you," she said, like she was reciting the weather. "When you sat beside me earlier. You had that aura. And your magic signature was uneven. So I knew."
I exhaled. "Yeah… a half-demon attacked me earlier. In the restroom."
"Romantic," she said, deadpan.
"But don't worry. I killed him."
She nodded, then reached out and gently patted my head.
Like I was a good dog.
"I know," she said, patting once, twice. "You did good."
"Are you seriously—" I swatted her hand. "Don't pat me like I just fetched your slippers."
She giggled, then yawned. "I was worried, though."
My chest tightened a little. That came out too sincere for someone who literally clung to me like a sleep-deprived baby bat.
"Thanks," I said quietly.
"I'd be sad if you got deleted," she mumbled, sinking further into her pillows.
"Deleted?"
"Like a corrupted file."
"Gee. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
I stood up, brushing off my clothes. "Get some actual sleep, Sera."
"Mm… I'm not that sleepy," she murmured from under the pile of blankets.
I turned back toward her, one brow raised. "You literally made me piggyback you all the way here."
She peeked out, face still half-squished against a pillow, her hair a total mess. "That's because I wanted you to piggyback me here."
I huffed. "That's not an excuse, you sloth-mode parasite."
She didn't even flinch. Instead, she sat up slowly—like she was made of goo and the concept of movement offended her—and slid off the bed. Then, without warning, she stepped toward me and wrapped her arms around my waist in a normal hug this time. Just a soft, warm hug.
It caught me off guard.
Sera's cheek pressed lightly against my chest, and she whispered, "I'm happy when I'm near you."
My mouth opened a little, but nothing came out.
She didn't look up. Just stayed there, arms gently locked around me like I was her personal comfort pillow. "You make me feel… comfortable. Safe. I want to be with you longer, Anomaly."
I went silent.
My mind instantly flashed back to yesterday—Lilith's words.
"They feel more comfortable with you."
And now here Sera was. The absolute sloth queen. Clinging to me not like a hacker latching onto a network—but like someone trying to hold onto a fleeting dream they didn't want to wake up from.
I was about to say something—anything. Something meaningful. Or dumb. Or emotional. Or probably all three in one poorly constructed sentence.
But before I could even part my lips, she reached up and—patted me a couple of times.
I sighed. "Can you stop doing that?"
She tilted her head, blinking up at me. "Doing what?"
"Patting my head. I feel like a dog."
She smiled—soft, sleepy, evil. "No. I pat you like my favorite plushie. The one who always sleeps next to me."
"Oh that's so much better," I said, completely deadpan.
"It is." She nodded solemnly, patting again. "You're soft."
"I'm not soft."
"You're emotionally soft."
"I will dump you back on that bed."
She giggled and didn't let go.
Her arms tightened just slightly, like she wasn't ready to let the moment end. The air around us was still—warm, slightly sweet from her chamomile scent. Outside the windows, the academy lights shimmered faintly, casting a gentle blue glow into her room.
I felt her pulse against me. Slow. Calm. Real.
She wasn't pretending to be asleep now.
And I wasn't pretending to be annoyed.
"…You always like this with people?" I finally asked.
"Nope," she said without hesitation. "Only you."
"Why?"
"You didn't run away when I asked for a piggyback."
"That's the bar?"
"And you smelled nice."
I paused. "Wait, what?"
She nodded. "You smell like cinnamon and mana… and a little bit like one of my favorite pillows."
"I don't know if that's a compliment or just deeply unsettling."
"Take it as a compliment."
I let out a breath and finally gave in, hugging her back. Lightly. Just enough to feel her relax more into me.
She let out a satisfied sigh like she just unlocked an achievement.
"...You should sleep," I murmured after a long moment.
"I will," she said. "If you stay until I fall asleep."
I raised an eyebrow. "You gonna let go of me then?"
She shook her head, eyes already drifting shut. "Nope. Plushie stays."
I groaned internally but gently guided her back to the bed.
She collapsed onto the mattress like someone threw a lifeless doll. Arms still half-wrapped around me, like I was part of her blanket.
I tried to wiggle free.
Failed.
Again.
I gave up, sighed, and carefully sat on the edge of her bed, letting her hold onto my arm like it was some teddy bear.
"I swear you're cursed," I muttered.
"I am," she whispered, eyes closed now. "But you're part of the curse, so it's fine."
"…Is that supposed to be comforting?"
"Mhm."
Silence.
Her breathing slowed. Body completely slack.
Then—
"Anomaly?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time another demon attacks you…"
"Yeah?"
"Wake me up first."
I stared down at her.
She was already asleep.
And yet somehow, I knew she meant every word.
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