The night had settled in full now, the stars above casting a soft multicolored glow across the rooftop. The girl stood beside him, arms gently folded in front of her, gaze steady on the horizon.
Haru swallowed, then asked quietly, "So… what are you thinking about?"
She didn't answer right away. She just breathed in — a soft, measured breath — before giving him a smile. Not forced. Not perfect. Just… human.
"I'm a new recruit," she said. "Part of The C-Team."
Haru nodded slowly, trying to hide the flicker of recognition. So I was right.
She paused for a moment, as if weighing whether to continue.
Then she did.
"And honestly… I've been struggling with the expectations."
Haru blinked. His heart tugged in a way he didn't expect.
She went on, her voice softer now.
"Right now, we don't have a captain. So things have been… unsteady. People don't really know who's supposed to lead what. And I'm new, so…"
Haru looked away, his chest tightening.
No captain.
She kept going. "I don't know where I fit. Everyone's good. Scary good. And I'm still figuring out who I am here. What I bring. I keep thinking I should've gotten better faster. That maybe I'm just… not what they hoped for."
Haru didn't interrupt. He couldn't. His throat was tight.
"…What are you gonna do?" he asked finally.
She turned toward him, eyes reflecting the gold and silver starlight.
"I was thinking of cutting my losses. Leaving before I get asked to," she admitted. "But…"
Another breath.
"If I'm being honest — I want to stay. I want to prove who I can be. Not just to them… but to myself. Even if I'm not good enough right now, I want to try. Work my way up. Hope that's enough."
She looked out at the stars again.
"We've got a new mission soon. I'm hoping I can rise to the level they expect. Because if I can't… I don't know how long I can stay knowing I'm not there yet."
Haru looked at her.
Really looked.
And for the first time in a long while, he smiled — gentle, honest.
"I hope you give it your best shot."
She smiled back — grateful, warm — but there was still a fragility behind her expression.
"My commander's really strict," she said with a light chuckle. "I'm sure he's not thrilled with how I'm doing right now."
Haru shook his head. "He's probably being strict because he sees your potential."
Her eyes widened, just slightly. Then her smile softened, lips pressing together — trembling just a little.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Haru instinctively leaned forward. "Hey… you okay?"
She nodded, wiping it gently with her gloved hand.
"Yeah," she said, voice trembling faintly. "I just… haven't said any of that out loud before. Not to anyone. Not really."
Haru smiled again — this time with something softer in his eyes. Something like understanding. Something like peace.
She looked at him for a moment, then tilted her head curiously.
"…Who are you?" she asked. "You don't look like a typical Watcher. So why are you up here?"
Haru hesitated for a second too long.
Then lied — smoothly, calmly.
"I'm being interviewed. They're testing me to see if I'm good enough to join."
Her eyes lit up. "Then you must be good."
He gave a half-smile and looked away again.
"Trust me. I'm nothing special."
She shook her head gently.
"I disagree," she said. "So far, you seem pretty special to me."
Haru blinked, hard.
He felt the tears try to rise again, but he fought them back.
Swallowed them.
Willed them into silence.
That's when Azrael, who had remained invisible and still in the corner, gave a soft, satisfied purr — and shimmered into view.
The girl blinked, startled at first — then smiled brightly.
"Oh—! Is that your cat?"
Haru turned to look, still glad for the distraction.
"Yeah. That's Azrael."
Azrael raised a paw, giving a theatrical wave. "Good evening."
Her eyes widened with wonder. "He talks?"
"Unfortunately," Haru muttered with a small smirk.
She laughed — full and delighted. "He's amazing."
Azrael sat tall, regal. "Flattery will get you everywhere."
She crouched down, glancing up for permission. "Can I pet him?"
Azrael gave a regal nod. "You may."
She reached out slowly, brushing her hand gently along his back.
"Wow," she whispered. "You're so soft…"
"I know," Azrael replied, already melting slightly into the touch. "You have excellent taste. I like her."
Haru watched them.
And laughed. Just a little.
Not the kind of laugh that hid something.
But the kind that healed.
As the girl gently stroked Azrael's fur, Haru's eyes flicked once more to the back of her right hand.
78.
The number shimmered subtly under the soft light — a white, almost celestial glow gently pulsing beneath her skin like a quiet heartbeat.
He nodded toward it.
"You know," he said softly, "The Watchers choose each number carefully."
She glanced up.
Haru continued, eyes steady. "They don't pick them at random. Every number is chosen based on what they believe is the will of the Triasm for each person who joins the C-Team."
She blinked, surprised by the depth of his tone.
"In Scripture," Haru went on, "seven means perfection. And eight means new beginning. So seventy-eight…" — he looked at her — "…means you're already perfect for a new beginning."
She stared at him — wide-eyed, still crouched beside Azrael, her hand paused mid-pet.
"That's… beautiful," she whispered. "Where'd you learn that?"
He shrugged, a little sheepish.
"…Just a thing I know."
She smiled — a little crooked this time, like she was seeing something in him she hadn't expected.
"So," she asked, "what number do you think you'd get?"
Haru paused. Looked out toward the stars again.
"…Eighty-seven."
Her eyebrows lifted. "That's mine in reverse."
"Yeah."
"Why eighty-seven?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then, softly — almost to himself:
"Because it means I have a new beginning… to become complete."
Azrael stopped purring.
The girl straightened slightly, watching Haru closely now.
He didn't meet either of their eyes — not yet. His gaze stayed fixed on the sky, where the starlight shimmered like divine breath.
Then—
"…Huh."
It wasn't a thought. It was a feeling. A spirit of truth passing through him — not loud or dramatic. Just there. Real.
He finally looked back down.
Smiled.
A small, sincere smile.
"I've gotta head off," he said, stepping back gently from the rooftop edge.
She blinked, clearly caught off-guard. "Oh—already?"
He turned slightly, hands in his pockets, already halfway to the stairs.
Then—
"Wait!" she called, standing quickly.
He paused at the edge of her view.
"What's your name?" she asked, voice carrying through the crisp night air.
He looked over his shoulder.
"Haru," he said. "Haru Tadashima."
A beat.
She smiled — warmly, earnestly.
"I hope I see you again, Haru. Hopefully — maybe… in the C-Team…"
Haru's smile grew just a little as he turned away.
"I have a feeling you will," he said.
And with that, he disappeared into the quiet.
Leaving her smiling at the stars.
The halls of the building were quieter now — the kind of quiet that didn't come from absence, but reverence. The lights along the corridor dimmed just slightly in the late cycle, casting long shadows and soft reflections against the polished obsidian floors.
Haru walked with steady steps, hands tucked into his blazer pockets, earbuds now stowed away. The wind from earlier had faded, but something still stirred in him — not peace, not confidence… but resolve. The smallest spark of it, but enough to move forward.
Azrael padded beside him, tail flicking lazily, his paws making barely a sound.
"So," the cat said casually, "changed your mind?"
Haru didn't look down.
"…I'll give it one more go."
Azrael arched a brow. "For her?"
Haru smirked slightly. "Maybe."
"You always fall easy," Azrael muttered, like a father talking about an overly romantic son.
Haru rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like a disease."
"Mm," Azrael purred, glancing up at him. "There's nothing wrong with it."
Haru blinked — the comeback caught in his throat.
Azrael looked forward again, his voice unusually calm, unusually warm.
"…It's cute."
That actually stopped Haru for half a step. He glanced down, surprised.
But Azrael didn't say anything else.
They approached the doors again — the entrance to Leonidas' command office, tall and elegant, etched with the insignia of the upper Watchers. It looked the same as before, but everything felt different now.
Haru paused just outside.
Took a breath.
Then knocked.
A moment passed before Leonidas' voice came through the door — steady, unreadable.
"…Come in."
Haru let out a final breath.
And opened the door.
The doors slid open with a smooth hiss as Haru stepped back into the office.
Leonidas looked up from a floating screen, his brows lifting in honest surprise.
"…Haru?"
Haru walked in, calm, hands in his pockets again — but his shoulders weren't slouched this time.
He looked Leonidas dead in the eye.
"When's my next mission?"
Leonidas blinked. For a moment, he just stared — as if recalibrating everything he thought was true five seconds ago.
Then, slowly, his lips curled into a wide, satisfied grin.
"Well," he said, standing up and folding his arms with casual pride, "you're meeting your chosen team tomorrow morning. Abel will lead the mission brief, and you'll have the rest of the day to prep together. Deployment's set for nightfall."
Haru nodded. "Sounds like a plan."
Leonidas walked around the desk, motioning casually toward the window. "You can stay here tonight. I'll have a room prepped for you in the Combatant Wing."
"Appreciate it," Haru said, already turning to leave.
But just as he reached the door, he paused.
Glanced back over his shoulder.
"…Hey," he said. "That girl. The one with the silver-white hair. Was she… set up to meet me up there?"
Leonidas tilted his head, caught off guard.
"What girl?"
"Beautiful. Tall for a girl. Brown skin. Gold eyes. Carries herself like she was born in a palace," Haru said.
Leonidas' brow rose slightly, then he snapped his fingers once.
"Celia Marisol. A New Recruit. Was an Elite, high-caliber candidate. Just joined the roster recently."
Haru looked away, thoughtful.
"…Are we sharing the mission?"
Leonidas raised an eyebrow. "Turns out, you just so happen to be."
Haru hummed. "Go figure."
Leonidas watched him carefully now, then leaned against the edge of his desk.
"She the one who convinced you to give it another shot?"
Haru smirked faintly, glancing off to the side like he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
"She's a great girl."
Leonidas chuckled. "Of course it was a girl."
Haru shook his head, but didn't deny it.
He stepped out through the doors, and they shut quietly behind him — a soft click that echoed like the start of something new.
The soft hum of the closing door faded into silence.
Leonidas stood alone now, the light from his interface dimming as it sensed his stillness.
He walked slowly to the tall window at the edge of his office — the same place Haru had stood hours earlier — and looked out into the endless sky. The stars shimmered quietly in the distance, each one casting its own silent glow across the towers of the Mivtzar of Einaim.
He folded his arms, jaw tightening just a little — not in frustration, but in reflection.
"…Thank you, Seisaku."
He said quietly, voice just above a whisper.
His eyes scanned the starlight — looking for something beyond it.
"He's young. Still trying to figure out who he is. Got so much potential he still can't even see yet…"
He exhaled through his nose, the weight of memory tugging at his tone.
"He's like his father in all the ways that matter… and different in all the ways that scare him."
The wind brushed against the outer walls of the tower, faint but present — like a breath from something older than time.
Leonidas' voice dropped, reverent now.
"So guide him," he said. "Watch his back. Help him rise. Because whether we like it or not…"
He looked out again, the city lights dancing in his eyes.
"…He is the future. Him. And the rest of those misfits."
A pause.
"They all are."
And with that, he stood in silence.
Watching the sky.
And praying that Seisaku — no —
The Origin was listening…