On the way to collect the commission fee from the priest of Cruyff, the sunlight was warm, and the temple corridors were filled with the subtle scent of incense.
Amidst this tranquility, Sian opened his mouth as if he had something to say.
“Honestly, I was a little surprised.”
I instinctively perked up at Sian’s voice.
His tone was as languid as usual, but curiosity and surprise were mixed within it.
“About what?”
Haru tilted her head in curiosity.
Her short bobbed hair swayed rhythmically.
“I thought you’d accept the priest’s request without a second thought. Like, ‘If someone’s in trouble, of course I have to help them!’ or something like that.”
At Sian’s words, Haru snorted as if to say, “Do you really think I’d do that?”
“I’m not exactly a saint, you know?”
She lightly tapped Sian’s arm with her elbow.
The two of them interacted so naturally, like old friends.
“Honestly, if it weren’t for the way they treated Tiamat, I might have accepted. But it was just infuriating! I helped them, and yet they treated me like a criminal!”
At Haru’s words, my tail instinctively brushed against the floor.
I thought I had grown used to hiding my emotions, but my tail always betrayed me.
Being a demon, I had always faced suspicion and prejudice.
People called me a “lizard” or treated me like a mere monster, but I had learned to endure it.
I was used to it.
But Haru was different.
She called me “Tiamat” and got angry at others for their unfair treatment of me.
That fact alone warmed my heart in an unfamiliar way.
“Haru, thank you. For getting angry on my behalf.”
I expressed my gratitude while cautiously looking at her.
Her kindness seeped into me.
“If you’re really grateful, can I touch your tail?”
Before I could even respond, Haru’s hand was already reaching toward my tail.
I instinctively grabbed it, my grip firm.
“No.”
I stated firmly.
Being thankful was one thing, but my tail was my own.
Letting someone touch it was an entirely different matter.
Besides… there was something suspicious about Haru’s expression.
It was almost… perverse. Like a cat-lover drooling over a kitten.
No, more like a creepy guy on the subway getting a little too close for comfort.
“Why not!? You were swaying your tail back and forth, practically seducing me!”
“Seducing?” I was dumbfounded.
My tail had been moving unconsciously.
I felt heat rush to my face.
It was like my secret had been exposed.
I tensed my tail, forcing it to stay still. Finally, it obeyed.
“I did no such thing.”
My voice came out higher than usual.
“LOL, look at that blush.”
“He’s totally a kuudere, LOL.”
“Just like my cat!”
It felt like I could hear an audience laughing in the background.
Had they noticed my flushed face? Feeling awkward, I cleared my throat.
“Then, if I can’t touch your tail, can I at least pat your head?”
Haru asked while reaching out, as if the question was just a formality.
I quickly turned my head to dodge her hand.
“That’s not allowed either.”
My answer was short and firm.
“This is exactly like my cat, LOL.”
“That expression… pure disdain, LOL.”
“You might end up making Tiamat hate you, you know,” Sian teased from the side.
Haru, unfazed, covered her face and pretended to cry.
“Sniff, sniff… Tiamat is so heartless…”
Her acting was so over-the-top that I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.
‘That was such a childish performance…’
“Ah! You laughed!” Haru’s eyes sparkled as she shouted.
“I did not.” I hurriedly denied it.
“You totally did! And you look even cuter when you smile.”
I froze at her words. “Cute.”
That was… probably the first time anyone had ever said that to me.
In my past life, and even in this world.
My tail swayed again—without me even realizing it.
Maybe… just for this moment, I really felt like an ordinary person, simply spending time with friends.
The boundary between reality and the game blurred, and the warmth of light seeped into the darkness of my heart.
With laughter and playful banter, we made our way to Priest Cruyff.
And in that moment, I wished I could hold onto it just a little longer.
But then, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
‘Ah… this moment will end someday too, won’t it?’
It wasn’t easy to get close to people in this world.
It felt like I was the only foreigner left stranded among a crowd of locals.
The language was the same, but the hearts never truly connected.
Of course, there are those extroverted types who can become best friends with a stranger overnight, arms around each other’s shoulders, drinking until dawn.
But I was far from that kind of person.
I always built thin walls around myself, choosing to observe the world from beyond them.
I had tried to get closer to people here.
I moved carefully so they wouldn’t feel wary of me, making sure not to provoke uncomfortable stares.
But the more I approached, the more they withdrew.
Whenever people looked at me, their eyes were filled with unease, as if my very presence was a bad omen—like I might commit a crime at any moment.
They would glance at the blue scales covering my body, at my tail, at my wings, and whisper among themselves in hushed voices.
Their murmurs cut into my skin like sharp blades.
And each time, I simply turned away, pretending not to hear, pretending not to see.
At least among demons, things were a little easier.
They didn’t keep their guard up around me.
Maybe it was because they, too, had experienced the same treatment.
A sense of shared misfortune.
But even with them, I hesitated to get too close.
Every one of them seemed… unhinged in some way.
If I stayed with them too long, wouldn’t I end up just like them?
‘Do people go crazy because they become demons? Or do they become demons because they were already crazy?’
The classic chicken-and-egg dilemma.
Emotions always leave traces.
Joy and happiness are no exception.
For some, happiness and joy leave behind warm memories.
But for me, they always left behind anxiety.
‘When will this happiness disappear? When will this joy betray me?’
There is a clear difference between the love one gives to another person and the affection one has for a pet.
No matter how much someone calls their pet “family,” it will never be the same as a real family.
And if even a living, breathing pet is like that… what about me, an NPC in a game?
When their love for the game fades, I will become nothing more than fragments of data.
When real life gets busy, when something more important comes along, the significance of this game will inevitably diminish.
And then… I will be abandoned.
Nothing in this world lasts forever.
People long for eternity, but they are always betrayed by that desire.
No one can stay young forever.
No one can live without dying.
There is no such thing as everlasting love.
I never wished for eternity.
That was impossible, after all.
Instead, I simply hoped for a beautiful farewell.
That when Haru eventually found something more important in reality, or when she discovered another, more entertaining game, she would part ways with me naturally.
I just wanted to fade away quietly, to be forgotten without disgrace.
The warm glow that had been flickering in my heart was slowly consumed by the deep darkness lurking within me.
Like a candle wavering against a breeze, only to be snuffed out completely.
‘Why am I like this?’
Happiness was always fleeting.
The brighter an emotion burned, the deeper the darkness it left behind.
The faint warmth that remained was always buried beneath cold ashes.
…I hated myself for thinking like this.
“Uh… Tiamat? Why does your face look so gloomy all of a sudden…?”
Haru’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.
Instinctively, I lifted my head—but I didn’t have the courage to meet her worried gaze.
“It’s because you kept teasing him,” Sian answered.
– See? Told you to go easy on him, LOL.
– Serves him right.
Haru probably had no idea why I had gone from laughing to looking so down.
No, it was natural that she didn’t know.
I was just an NPC in a game, after all.
Who would bother worrying about an NPC’s feelings in a game meant for entertainment?
Who would willingly become a dumping ground for an NPC’s emotions?
‘This is basically bipolar disorder, isn’t it?’
As I watched a character with bipolar disorder in a drama, I recalled thinking, “It must be exhausting to deal with someone like that.”
And wasn’t I exactly the same? Laughing excitedly by myself one moment, then sinking into deep darkness the next—contradictory and unpredictable.
Even I found myself exhausting.
“I feel anxious. Pay more attention to me. Give me reassurance.”
If I had ever said those words out loud, I would have simply been labeled as a “mentally unstable person.”
I didn’t want to be treated that way.
After all, what I wanted wasn’t pity or sympathy.
I just… wanted to feel real.
So instead, I pretended nothing was wrong and yawned.
“Haam… I’m just a little tired.”
Haru glanced at me for a moment before nodding.
I hoped he wouldn’t think too much about my awkward smile, just dismissing it as fatigue.
“This guy really drains your energy just by being around.”
Sian joked playfully.
Thanks to that, Haru turned his attention away from me and kicked Sian’s shin.
It was satisfying to see, though that feeling quickly faded.
“Ahh! That hurts!”
“Well, I kicked you to make it hurt. Did you expect a painless kick?”
“You little—!”
— Aww, our Sian is sulking again.
— Are you sulking again?
“Aww… Sian, are you sulking? Do you want me to comfort you?”
“Ugh… You guys… Stop it.”
“Stop it”
— Are you guys elementary school kids? LOL
— You two have great chemistry, haha
I watched Haru and Sian bicker back and forth.
They played around like children, pushing each other and lightly kicking, but beneath it all, there was an unshakable trust between them.
I lowered my gaze to my hands.
Scales, a deep shade of blue, covered them in tight patterns.
My sharp claws gleamed under the light.
My skin was cold, distant from the warmth of human flesh.
I was different.
Unlike ordinary people, I couldn’t simply blend in, laugh naturally, or casually promise another meeting.
The thought of “next time” always filled me with anxiety.
If Haru one day left this game, if Sian stopped talking to me, I would simply fade into the background of this world, melting away like I was never there.
“Ah, I’ll never truly belong there.”
The quiet whisper was a self-mocking realization.
Maybe this was what I had been feeling ever since I arrived in this place.
I was nothing more than a spectator, always watching from behind a glass wall.
I longed to cross it, but all my hand left was a smudge on the cold surface.
And yet…
I was still following behind Haru and Sian.
A step behind them—never fully part of them, yet never completely apart.
Would I ever be able to close that distance?
My tail dragged heavily along the ground.
“I don’t know…”
Maybe it was better not to know.
After all, not knowing meant the answer wasn’t decided yet.