A gust of wind, carrying the unique chill of Janusopolis, stirred fine dust and gently brushed against Phaethon's cheek, pulling him from the drowning depths of his despairing thoughts.
The cold of the stone pillar seeped through his thin clothing.
"Huh? If it isn't the deliverer-to-be cook?" A voice, deliberately hushed yet tinged with a familiar, lazy drawl, came without warning from behind the massive pillar Phaethon leaned against, like the whisper of a night cat. "How come you're hiding over here drinking alone? The party over in Okhema is in full swing. Not going to join?"
Phaethon didn't turn around immediately, nor did he answer the teasing question.
Instead, he chuckled softly: "Hmm~, you don't have to leave right away, Cipher." Phaethon tilted his head slightly. "Aglaea is over in Okhema right now; she won't notice you for a while. At least..." He paused, his tone carrying a hint of assurance. "Her 'golden threads'... haven't passed through my Infinity Gate yet."
...
A long silence fell behind the pillar. After a good while, a very faint whisper, carrying a barely perceptible tremor, cautiously floated out: "Really...?" Those two simple words were laden with too many complex emotions—incredulous hope, long-suppressed yearning, and a trace of deep-seated fear. Phaethon could almost imagine those cat-like eyes in the shadows, possibly wide open right now.
He maintained his relaxed posture, even giving the nearly empty bottle in his hand a slight shake, letting the remaining liquid slosh softly: "No guarantees," Phaethon deliberately used a light tone, "but well... the chance is rare. You really can... look at her a bit more. Don't worry, I'm here. Blocking the view for you."
The pledge floated lightly, eliciting no immediate response.
Who knows how long it was—maybe just a moment, but enough for a certain presence hiding in the shadows to greedily absorb enough "light."
Phaethon broke the silence, his voice carrying a note of helpless amusement: "Enough looking..." Phaethon teased. "You can't actually eat Aglaea for sustenance, can you? Tell me, is there anything from the feast over there you'd like to eat? I'll go snag some for you."
After a brief silence, a small voice, hesitant and tinged with shyness, drifted out: "Mmm... I want to eat... the grilled fish on that long table, the one near the golden platter."
Cipher's voice trailed off, as if lost in some distant memory, carrying a hint of imperceptible nostalgia and grievance. "Ever since... leaving Okhema, wandering outside... I haven't had a single fish..." Her voice dropped even lower, almost becoming a breathy whisper, with a child-like complaint. "In the River of Styx... hmph, there aren't any fish at all... I can't even find a fish bone..."
The distant longing contained in that voice inexplicably softened Phaethon's heart. "Alright," Phaethon agreed readily, straightening up. "Wait here. I'll go get it for you."
Just as he turned and stepped toward the flowing glow of the Infinity Gate, a whisper so soft it almost melted into the wind drifted precisely into his ear: "Thank you..."
Phaethon's steps faltered almost imperceptibly, and the corner of his mouth turned up involuntarily. He couldn't help but wonder: Was this rare gratitude from the young girl for the impending delicious grilled fish? Or for the brief yet precious, tacit permission he had just given her to "look at her"? Or perhaps... a bit of both?
He didn't linger any longer, stepping through the Infinity Gate. The warm, food-scented clamor of Okhema instantly enveloped him, a stark contrast to Janusopolis's silent chill. His target was clear, heading straight for that grilled fish—the one that had made a certain millennia-old being's mouth water for who knows how long—now emitting a tempting, charred aroma.
The Dawn Device's simulated, hope-symbolizing golden light gently showered upon him, gilding his entire figure in a warm glow. Only... this "hope"-filled light was so dazzling. Yet, Phaethon's mind involuntarily flashed to the thick, impenetrable shadows behind the pillar.
This light... was bought at the price of one person being forever severed from the light. This realization gave the warm dawn light a touch of indescribable heaviness and bitterness.
He deftly picked up an entire plate of golden, crispy, aromatic grilled fish—a portion large enough to satisfy a certain greedy cat. Then, he passed once more through the gate connecting light and dark, returning to the pillar in Janusopolis.
"So fragrant! Give it to me! Quick! Meow—!" An impatient voice immediately came from behind the pillar, the tone light and joyful, the meow even carrying a hint of coquettishness. Clearly, the brief solitude and the impending delicacy had made her temporarily cast aside her heavy thoughts, her mood adjusted quite nicely.
Phaethon smiled soundlessly, steadily passing the aroma-filled plate into the depths of the shadows cast by the pillar, where a certain "peeper" was hiding: "Don't rush," Phaethon's voice held a softness even he hadn't been aware of. "I don't like fish. It's all yours."
The aroma of grilled fish diffused in the cool air of Janusopolis, carrying a thread of the warmth of mortal hearths, quietly melting into this eternal starry night.
...
From within the thick shadows behind the pillar came an abrupt, extremely faint sound, like dried leaves fluttering to the ground. Immediately after, that distinctive presence of Cipher's—lazy yet wary—vanished without a trace as if thin mist scattered by the wind. The mysterious demigod maiden had slipped away silently.
Almost the moment Cipher left, a figure brimming with vitality passed through the flowing glow of the Infinity Gate, stepping from the warmth of Okhema's dawn into Janusopolis's starry night. It was Trianne.
Phaethon was about to unconsciously drain the last of the low-alcohol fruit wine from the bottle, but his movement halted slightly as his gaze fell upon Trianne's figure, cheerful and bright as a little sun. He looked at the bottle in his hand, then at the small, pure being before him, crystalline as red crystal. He hesitated for a moment, finally gently placing the bottle on the cold stone base.
Trianne hopped over to Phaethon, her face radiating an unclouded smile, her voice clear: "Little Snowy!" she happily announced her purpose. "Trinnon told us you took a whole plate of grilled fish in an unusual way and sent Trianne to check on you!"
*Teacher Trinnon...* A wave of warmth passed through Phaethon's heart. That always-quiet, all-seeing teacher was indeed sharp in her observations, noticing even his small, unusual action and specifically sending the most lively Trianne to show care.