Chapter 9: Fractures of Light
The storm hadn't stopped since the fight.
Aira sat beside Rimuru in the dim light of the rooftop stairwell. Rain hit the glass like a steady heartbeat, filling the silence between them. Rimuru leaned back against the wall, her breathing slow but uneven.
The glow under her skin had dimmed to a faint shimmer. It wasn't blood that marked her wounds — it was light, seeping through tiny cracks along her arm, fading as quickly as it appeared.
Aira stared at it, her chest tightening.
> "You said you erase them. But every time you do, this happens."
Rimuru chuckled weakly. "You make it sound worse than it looks."
> "It is worse," Aira said softly. "I saw you flicker. Like you were fading."
Rimuru's gaze shifted toward the rain-streaked window. Her reflection wavered there — half-solid, half-light.
> "That's because I don't belong here completely," she said finally. "Not anymore."
Aira frowned. "What do you mean?"
> "When the Veil fractured," Rimuru said, "some of us were pulled through it. Not alive. Not dead. Just… caught in between. I kept myself stable by binding to this form. But every time I use my full power…"
She raised her glowing hand — light dripping from her fingertips like sand through glass.
> "…it reminds the world I'm not supposed to exist."
Aira felt her throat tighten. "Then why keep fighting?"
Rimuru's blue eyes met hers, steady and impossibly calm.
> "Because you do belong here. And the Veil isn't breaking because of me — it's breaking because of you."
Aira froze. "Me?"
Rimuru nodded. "You're the Resonant. The link between both sides. The Veil reacts to your emotions — every fear, every heartbeat. That's why the echoes found you first."
Aira turned away, hugging her knees. "So, if I stop feeling, everything stops?"
Rimuru gave a small, sad smile. "That's not living, Aira. That's hiding."
The silence stretched. Outside, thunder rolled — deep and distant.
Aira finally whispered, "Then what happens if I lose control?"
Rimuru reached out, her touch warm against Aira's wrist where the faint light of her bond still pulsed.
> "Then I'll be there to pull you back," she said softly. "Even if it burns me away."
Aira looked at her, eyes glistening. "That's not fair."
Rimuru smiled faintly, brushing a strand of white hair from her face.
> "Since when has life ever been fair to us?"
For a brief second, the world outside stilled — the rain slowing, the wind holding its breath. And in that quiet, the light between their hands flared softly, resonating in unison.
Neither of them noticed the faint shadow forming across the rooftop wall — a silhouette watching through the Veil's distortion, its eyes glimmering with a faint red hue.