The air shifted—colder, sharper, like water icing over. She appeared, no warning, just there: tall, unsmiling, the white streak in her hair gleaming in the thin light.
Katsu looked up and couldn't help it—a tiny smile twitched at the edge of his mouth. "Levii," he said, this time not with pain, but quiet relief.
She tilted her head, studying him, curiosity mixing with that eternal, predatory calm. "You called?" she said, but the edges of her voice were softer.
He shrugged, staring down at his hands. "Didn't want to start the day alone." He hesitated, then risked, "I guess… I got used to you showing up, even when I didn't call."
Levii's eyes narrowed, but it was more amusement than suspicion. "Am I your morning ritual now, Katsu? Before breakfast and existential dread?"
He let out a weak laugh. "You're better company than dread." Then, voice more real: "Some days it feels like you're the only one who really sees me—not the heir, not the prodigy, just… me."
For a moment, she said nothing, her golden gaze searching his face. "You know," she said quietly, "for someone so stubborn, you're oddly sentimental in the mornings."
He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide a smile. "Don't tell anyone."
"Who would believe me?" she replied, stepping closer. Her presence pressed in, but for once, it was comforting—like the hush before a storm, not the storm itself. "Besides. If you want me here, all you have to do is ask."
He looked up, and their eyes met—something real, unguarded passing between them.
"I want you here," he said. Not desperate. Not pleading. Just true.
She sat on the bed beside him, her weight oddly tangible for a spirit. For a few heartbeats, neither spoke. It didn't feel awkward; it felt earned.
After a moment, Katsu reached out—not quite daring to touch her, but close enough for his hand to hover above hers. "You ever get tired of being summoned?" he asked, half-teasing.
Levii smirked, a real, dangerous kind of smile. "Are you kidding? Half the Academy would sell their soul for your attention. I get it for free."
He shook his head, grinning despite himself. "You're impossible."
"Not to you," she murmured, and the words landed heavier than either expected.
The silence that followed wasn't empty—it was thick with understanding, with the sense that for once, neither needed to run or hide.
A draft rattled the window. The world felt bigger, the room a little less confining.
"Ready to go?" she asked finally, rising in a swirl of shadow.
He nodded, lighter now, the morning's weight less crushing.
Levii didn't vanish—she perched on his shoulder as he left the room, insubstantial but fiercely present, her energy curling around him like a second skin.
On the path toward House Keahi, she stayed—sometimes humming, sometimes silent, sometimes making snide commentary only he could hear. When a black cat froze on the path, Levii eyed it and whispered, "Even the cats know who the real predator is," and Katsu had to stifle a laugh.
"Want to form beside me and walk like a normal person?" he asked, as if she ever could be normal.
She purred, "If I did, you'd never get to the door—too many admirers, too many corpses."
"But you'd enjoy that?"
She bared her teeth in a wicked grin. "I'd enjoy being beside you. Everything else is just scenery."
He paused, sun on his skin, feeling—for the first time in ages—like maybe he could handle all of it.
Guards greeted him at House Keahi, and Levii slipped away with a lazy swirl of darkness, but her presence didn't fade. Her voice, half-taunt, half-promise, lingered in his ear:
"Try not to melt, darling. Fire likes to test things until they crack."
Katsu smirked. "Good. So do I."
He stepped forward, her confidence inside him, the world—just for a moment—less lonely than before.
...
Katsu strolled the slate path toward House Keahi, boots echoing with each step, Levii perched light as smoke on his shoulder. Her presence was so sharp that even a stray black cat paused mid-stride, considered the demon riding him, and vanished under the hedge.
"You know," Katsu muttered, not breaking pace, "if you walked beside me like a regular person, maybe people would stare less."
Levii's fingers toyed with the collar of his coat, her breath cool at his ear. "That's tempting, darling. But you know what happens when I show my true form in public."
He snorted. "Catastrophe and carnage?"
She grinned, her teeth just a little too sharp. "Envy in the flesh. Besides, who would protect you from surprise fireballs if I was off charming the peasants?"
"Protect, huh?" Katsu glanced at her, an affectionate spark in his eyes. "Or are you just jealous of all the attention I get?"
Levii leaned in, her golden eyes wicked. "Maybe. Or maybe I like having you to myself before the world tries to burn you alive. Call it self-preservation."
He shook his head, fighting a smile. "What did I even unleash on the world?"
She laughed softly, the sound curling around his thoughts. "Something you'll never get rid of, my king."
As the path turned, banners of Keahi blazed in the morning wind—red and gold, flame stitched into silk. The manor itself shimmered with heat, sunlight flickering on the stone like a warning. Katsu paused at the threshold, just for a breath, soaking in the fire-warmth that contrasted the icy shadow trailing at his back.
Guards in flame-trimmed armor parted, offering him a respectful nod. "Velthra. Lady Keahi is waiting."
He offered a lazy salute, feeling Levii's weight slide away as he crossed into the blaze. She vanished in a velvet curl of shadow, her voice lingering in his ear, teasing but earnest:
"Try not to melt, darling. Or I'll have to drag you out by the ashes."
"Promise?" he whispered, almost hoping she could hear.
Inside, the hall pressed with heat, noise, and the thick scent of burning spices. It was alive, vivid—a world away from the cold silence of his own thoughts.
He shook off his hesitation, raised his voice: "Sydney!"
The guards tensed—not at his tone, but at the name itself, as if it had power here.
A door slammed open. Sydney strode out, flame-edge cloak snapping, eyes alight with challenge.
"Don't get comfortable, Velthra. You still owe me a duel."
"A duel?" He tried to muster bravado, waving a hand. "Hardly a fair fight. You'd lose in the first round."
Sydney's grin was all sharp edges. "Try me."
She flicked her wrist, conjuring a blaze-dark haze—fire and shadow swirling, crackling with raw intent.
Katsu's instincts screamed a warning—he felt the pressure spike, dread crawling up his spine. For a split second, he didn't move, caught between pride and real fear.
The haze flared—shot at him.
Before he could react, water surged in a swift, elegant arc, shattering the fire in a burst of steam. Levii's magic—subtle but undeniable—intervened, the hallway momentarily filled with mist and a whisper of ancient power.
Katsu steadied himself, heart thundering, caught between gratitude and embarrassment. He caught Sydney's eye, searching for accusation, but she only looked impressed.
"You mastered Haze?" he managed, trying to hide his shaken nerves.
Sydney's smirk only widened. "I mastered everything. Thought you knew."
She stepped closer, the air rippling with heat behind her.
"I burn smart, Katsu. Don't forget it."
He let out a shaky laugh, eyes flicking to the fading mist, feeling Levii's approval like a private warmth. The emptiness he'd carried all morning eased, just a little.
For the first time that day, he nearly smiled for real.