Chapter 15. Who I Am

“Surely you’ve always had your doubts about who I am, haven’t you, Eagle?” Ami tilted her head, her gaze locking onto his. Her face betrayed no flicker of emotion.

Eagle said nothing, but the wariness in his eyes spoke volumes.

“Exactly,” Ami said with a faint smile, her voice calm, almost casual.

“I was a high-ranking member of Caelora.”

The air grew thick, heavy with the weight of her words. Save for Bear, the other three froze, their eyes widening instinctively. They had known, or at least suspected… but to hear Ami declare it, with such unnerving detachment, sent a restless stir through their hearts.

“Some who leave Caelora retain their divine grace, provided they meet the conditions,” she continued, her eyes sweeping over each of them. “But the prerequisite”—she paused, letting the silence linger—“is to be a high-ranking member. My cousin managed that… but me?” Her smile vanished.

Ami let out a sigh, her voice dipping into something like a lament.

“Hah. Pity I wasn’t so lucky. Instead of being spared, it torments me… like a punishment.”

“A punishment? For what?” Eagle’s voice was low, each word strained, as if forced through gritted teeth.

Ami met his stare, her shoulders giving a faint shrug.

“Simple enough. My crime was far worse than his.”

A glint flashed in her eyes. For a fleeting moment, Eagle felt a chill snake down his spine.

“That’s all there is to it?” he pressed, his tone heavy with suspicion.

She tilted her head slightly, blinking as if teasing him.

“My being here… the unexplained fainting spells… aren’t those proof enough?”

Eagle’s fists clenched, his breathing labored. “What crime could warrant exiling two high-ranking celestials at once?”

Ami’s lips curved into a smile, but it was hollow, chilling.

“Ironic, isn’t it? One exiled celestial is shameful enough. A high-ranking one? There’s truly no excuse.”Yet in her tone, the group sensed something more, something unspoken.

Eagle leaned closer, his voice a low growl. “Spit it out.”

Ami fell silent for a moment. Then her lips twitched upward, her gaze sharpening, cold as a blade drawn from its sheath.

“We only…” She enunciated each word, her voice steady, unnaturally calm. “…tried to kill the Emperor.”

In that instant, the air plunged into a deathly stillness.

Mira’s eyes widened, her body trembling. Hyena flinched, whipping around to Bear as if seeking an anchor. Eagle stiffened, his eyes blazing, as though he might lunge forward and crush the words that had just echoed in the room.

Ami let out a soft chuckle, the corner of her mouth curling, her eyes glinting with a chilling understanding.

“Oh, don’t look so horrified. You should consider me an ally. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted… deep down?”

Her voice was playful, almost lilting, as if the revelation carried no weight.

“Enough, Ami,” Bear interjected. His voice was low, not harsh, but firm. His eyes dropped, avoiding hers.

“I have my reasons,” she replied, her tone softening, shoulders shrugging as if recounting a trivial tale. “The Emperor made me suffer—when Caelora branded me a traitor to the empire over a single accusation.”

The other three exchanged glances, confusion etched on their faces. Amid Ami’s bright, almost carefree laughter, an unsettling unease wove itself into the moment. They turned to Bear, seeking answers.

And it was Bear who left them stunned.

He sat there, head bowed, hands clasped tightly, knuckles white. His shoulders trembled faintly, as if suppressing a tremor deep in his chest. The group stared, dumbfounded—Bear, the unshakable rock, now silent in a way that sent chills through them.

“Well, it’s all in the past,” Ami said, propping herself up and sitting straighter, her tone airy, as if recounting someone else’s story.

“The result? Here I am, enduring it day by day. Maybe a few more years, and it’ll be over. Or so I hope. Heh.” A radiant smile bloomed on her face, untouched by the gravity of her words.

Silence.

The room felt suffocating, the weight of her nonchalance pressing against them. Eagle, Hyena, and Mira sat frozen, their gazes locked, unsure what to make of the woman before them.

“Ami…?” Mira’s voice quavered, her eyes brimming with unguarded worry.

Ami turned, flashing a grin as innocent as a child praised for a good deed, her gaze drifting over each of them.

“If there’s nothing else, I’m going for a walk. Oh, and I’ll be there tonight, as promised. Don’t worry, Orson.”

Her words fell lightly, but in the silence that followed, her footsteps seemed to echo straight into their chests.

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They could only watch her small figure recede, each step carrying an ember of unease that smoldered in the air.

—

The heavy silence enveloped the room after Ami’s departure. Only the faint sound of breathing lingered, as if everyone feared breaking the quiet with a single word.

Finally, Eagle shattered it.

“Orson, what the hell is going on? Speak.” His voice was low, taut with strain.

“Is that really the person you’ve been waiting for all this time? Stop hiding, Orson.” This time, his tone sharpened, edged with frustration.

Bear sat motionless, his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles blanched.

After a long pause, he exhaled, a heavy, burdened sound as if emptying his chest.

“It’s my fault. I… I turned her into this. It was me…”

His voice faltered, his head sinking lower, buried in trembling hands.

“Tch…” Eagle ground his teeth, letting out a sharp, exasperated breath. He shot to his feet, brow furrowed.

“I’m not here to curse anyone out. Do something about it.” His words fell cold and clipped as he turned and stormed out of the room.

Hyena watched him go, fidgeting restlessly. Before following, he gave Bear’s shoulder a light pat, half-serious, half-teasing.

“If you need me, just holler, boss…” With a quick nod to Mira, he slipped out after Eagle.

The room was left to just the siblings.

Mira wasn’t skilled at comforting, but she gently placed a hand on Bear’s shoulder, hoping to ease his turmoil. The clumsy warmth of her gesture brought a fleeting lightness to Bear’s heart.

“Thank you, Mira… I’m sorry I can’t explain,” he murmured, exhaling.

Mira shook her head, her voice soft. “I’ll go prepare our things.”

She took a few steps, then hesitated, turning back to look at him. “That person just now… that wasn’t her, was it?”

Bear froze, his hands tightening on his knees. He said nothing, his head bowing lower.

Mira lingered on him for a moment, her eyes tinged with sadness, before turning and leaving the silent room.

As soon as Mira was gone, Bear slumped back in his chair, as if all his strength had drained away. His hand slowly rose to cover his face, shielding the eyes that burned with fragments of memory.

In the darkness behind his lids, her radiant smile flickered to life—the smile that had once drawn him toward light he could never quite reach. Sitting beside her, listening to her chatter about trivial things, had made the world feel weightless. Those simple moments, now, were something he dared not touch.

He told himself he hadn’t lost her—he had extinguished her. A sunflower meant to stand tall had been buried beneath the earth by his own darkness.

The moment he saw her again, Bear’s heart had nearly burst with joy. But that fleeting elation was quickly drowned by fear and guilt. Each of Ami’s smiles, every carefree glance, was a cold blade reminding him: he was the one who had destroyed her, and the girl he knew was long gone.

Yet, despite knowing this, he still yearned to hold on. Even if it was just an illusion, a false remnant of what once was, Bear wanted to cling to it, to keep her close. If it meant enduring curses or hatred, he would bear it all—just so she wouldn’t turn away, wouldn’t abandon him again.

But now, facing the words Ami had just spoken, Bear sat rigid.

The guilt stabbed deep into his chest, a relentless reminder that the person before him was no longer her, but merely a shadow of the mistake he had created.

——

“I wonder… is just saying ‘the highest place’ enough?” Ami murmured as she walked, twirling the scroll in her hand, her eyes skimming the words absentmindedly. She repeated the phrase under her breath, her voice low and steady.

Moments later, a glow emanated from the scroll, enveloping her body.

Thud.

Ami landed softly. She quietly adjusted the hem of her dress, her gaze sweeping the surroundings.

“So this is the place,” she said, her voice calm as a breath.

Above her, an enormous bell hung suspended in the air.

Ami tilted her head back, letting the sunset’s light cast the bell’s shadow across her face. No exclamation, just a near-whisper: “It’s really big.”

She turned away, her eyes stretching toward the horizon. The scene unfolded before her: a sky tinged with gold, a gentle breeze stirring her hair. Squinting slightly, Ami leaned against the wall, letting the wind brush past her.

“This is… the mortal realm,” she said, her voice as composed as if stating something long known.

Below, red-tiled rooftops stretched endlessly, the bustling streets alive with the clamor of footsteps, chatter, and vendors’ calls, blending into a noisy yet distant symphony. Ami observed, her gaze serene.

“The air’s so fresh~” she remarked softly, her eyes still fixed on the crowd below, absorbing the pulse of life beneath.

“Still in pain?” a warm, low voice came from behind, startling her for a moment. She turned her head, but her expression betrayed no surprise.

Smiling, she replied, “Nope, I’m good… Thanks, Master.”

The man gave a faint smile, ruffling her hair gently.

“Good. But stop calling me ‘Master.’ It makes me sound old.”

“Used to it,” Ami replied curtly, turning back to the view.

“I don’t know how to deal with you anymore…,” he said, shaking his head with a helpless sigh.

From his vest pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lazily drawing one and bringing it to his lips.

“Me too,” Ami said, extending her hand with a calm smile.

“Kids don’t smoke.” Instead of a cigarette, he fished a piece of candy from his other pocket and placed it neatly in her small palm.

“I’m old enough in the mortal realm,” Ami countered, a hint of a pout in her voice.

“But you’re a celestial. Be good now,” he said with a teasing smile, his tone light.

“Tch. Stingy,” Ami muttered, but she unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth.

“That’s my girl~,” he said, ruffling her hair again, his voice a mix of mockery and affection.

“Sigh, time flies,” Ami said, sucking on the candy as she leaned against the railing, propping her chin in her hand, her gaze drifting aimlessly ahead.

“That’s what you get for being careless,” he said, blowing out a puff of smoke. “And for being a glutton.”

“Tch! You know eating without a care is my only joy,” she huffed, slumping further against the railing. “Hah, I never thought I’d end up this weak.”

“It’s kind of fun, though, isn’t it?” he said, grinning.

Ami looked up, narrowing her eyes in a mock glare.

“Are you serious? Should I freeze you solid and crush your bones to see if that’s fun?” Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

“Haha, just kidding,” he said, shrugging with a laugh.

“But honestly, it’s not that bad. It’s been a while since I felt… alive like this,” she said, sitting up slightly, resting her cheek in one hand.

“Knew it. You’re such a masochist.”

“So rude!” Ami frowned, pouting.

“Hahaha.” He burst into laughter. Ami stared at him for a moment longer, then couldn’t help but let a chuckle slip out, joining him.

After a few shared laughs, Ami’s gaze settled back on the empty space before her. He leaned against the railing beside her, taking a quiet drag of his cigarette, saying nothing more.

…..

“Do you think… we have a future?” After a long silence, Ami spoke, her voice low and even, her eyes still fixed on the distant horizon.

“A future, huh…” He took a drag, exhaling a plume of smoke before leaning back against the wall, a half-smile tugging at his lips.

“Getting all serious out of nowhere?” he said, leaning toward her with a playful grin.

Ami glanced up lazily, saying nothing, then returned to her original posture.

“You already know the answer, don’t you?” he said.

Ami stayed silent, her eyes drifting downward as if recalling something. “Yeah, yeah, no one knows what lies ahead… Just keep moving forward, asking questions like that… and we’ll find out eventually. Right?” she murmured.

He let out a soft chuckle, a glint of approval in his eyes. Pulling another piece of candy from his pocket, he held it out, his tone teasing.

“Well said. Here’s your reward from Master.”

Ami stared at the candy for a moment, then shook her head, her gaze distant, her voice a whisper carried by the wind.

“But I’m tired… I don’t want to keep going.”

He didn’t respond, only lit another cigarette in silence. After a deep drag, he held it out to her.

She froze, staring at the cigarette, then looked up, bewildered. “Why?”

He smiled, his tone casual yet enigmatic. “Because you’ve grown up.”

Ami studied him for a moment, then lowered her gaze and took the cigarette.

“Ha! Not yet. I’ll show you what grown-up me looks like.” She tilted her chin defiantly, bringing the cigarette to her lips.

He only chuckled softly. “Let’s see,” he said, and a sudden gust of wind swept through, making her close her eyes instinctively.

When she opened them, he was gone. Ami wasn’t surprised. The corner of her mouth curved slightly as she muttered, “Still so impulsive.”

She took a drag. “Cough!” Her face scrunched up. “Tch… so bitter.”