Hsr Oc - Blog Posts

Introduction (Honkai: Star Rail OC)

«That's a lie. I have no regrets. On the contrary, my life is entirely composed of them. They are more akin to the reflection of stars upon the surface of water—captivating, yet ultimately ephemeral.»

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៹ ࣪˖⁩ Beatris

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RARITY: ✦✦✦✦✦

COMBAT PATH: Erudition

COMBAT TYPE: Lighting

FACTION: Galaxy Rangers (?)

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«While others seek answers in the illusions of the past and the bustle of yesteryears, I find myself time and again drawn to this silent assembly of stars. THEIR twinkling serves as my compass... Yet, THEY do not reveal which path is the right one.»

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«Behind the gentle smile lies the ability to attract and disappoint simultaneously. And though not all of her actions can be deemed rational, their effect instills fear in nearly all unwelcome guests who have crossed paths with her.»

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A woman whose shadow straddles the line between light and darkness, transforming any situation into a fateful dance of maneuvering. Stars, deep and mysterious, pierce through to the soul, having borne witness to this scene over two hundred times, leaving behind a lingering sense of uncertainty. Each step is calculated, and every phrase is concise and enveloping.

She is accustomed to achieving her goals with grace, outmaneuvering even the most seasoned opponents. Her plan always lies at the edge of the card ahead, while time, seemingly shattered into countless pieces, possesses a clear structure for her.

Principles are but a vibrant mosaic of fragile ideals from the past and a collection of whimsical intentions from the present. At times, this lady's behavior may seem extravagant, occasionally even displaying an overly passionate approach to her hunting.

Lady Beatris always loved to divine at the stars, a passion cultivated since childhood, believing they can unveil the fate of each individual. Yet, her own destiny remains elusive—perpetually changeable.

She has been in contact with Aeon twice. The last encounter was under less than ideal circumstances. Occasionally, she hears THEIR voice.

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(Any thoughts? 👀)

I return from the Art Mines with a cool lil guy I made, please enjoy :3

I love adding wips to my already massive wip collection

Tis Arvo again and it is now a splash art of him

Idk what to add on the background but Im sure I will figure it out

Today was a nasty day, felt sick from drawing at my classes it was miserable. Art was not arting.

And the fic with him is at the boring part so writing it is kinda a slog rn ngl

Henlo, I am not dead Just trying to learn how to manage everything in my life with new rules and undiagnosed ADHD (Im scared of doctors)

Anyway something different this time and its a wip I probably never finish but it looks nice so far

A potential LC design for one of my HSR OC's - Arvo

If ppl find him cute I might just write a bio for him (as if I don't have a 10k+ words fic in the works right now that I'm too scared to post) or just draw his character sheet with his designs

ANyway please be gentle to him hes traumatized (who isnt in this game)

Upd: just added a lil more detailed WIP teehee

So, i tried to design my hsr oc like cake cats

1) Elliot

2) Talia

3) Tianshi

4) Jadwiga

I don't know how soon I will be able to show the characters themselves, because I have drawn only 2 references out of 4

finally posting some art on here for the first time in a while so here's some WIPs of my HSR OC :3

Caelus X Reader Honkai Star Rail

“Another Me in Another World”

Masterlist

pov you come from a timeline where you and caelus loved each other. Though now thrown into this world you don’t remember anything.

:0

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ The moment the warp settled, a shiver laced down Caelus’ spine.

They stood at the edge of a crumbling city floating in a pocket of broken time what Herta dubbed a “dimensional fault zone,” where history bent like glass under pressure. Fractured towers loomed above, suspended by unseen strings. The air crackled, distorted. But none of it compared to the static in his chest. She was here. He didn’t know how he knew only that the moment he stepped off the Express, his heart started pounding like it remembered something he didn’t. Then he saw her. She was standing alone at the edge of a fractured platform, long coat fluttering behind her like a shadow. Mask half lowered, a Stellaron Hunter insignia stitched boldly across her sleeve. And when her gaze met his sharp, unreadable his world tipped on its axis.

“…You,” Caelus breathed.

You didn’t blink. “So you’re the Express’s precious Trailblazer.” His title sounded foreign in your mouth, like it didn’t belong like you didn’t want it to. But your fingers twitched slightly at your side, as if muscle memory betrayed you. Behind Caelus, March and Dan Heng tensed. “Careful,” Dan Heng said lowly, “she’s one of Kafka’s.”

But Caelus stepped forward anyway. You didn’t move. Not when he stopped a few feet away. Not when he tilted his head, searching your eyes for something you didn’t even know you’d lost.

“There’s something familiar about you,” he said softly.

Your lips curved into something like a smirk but it didn’t reach your eyes. “I hear that a lot before people try to shoot me.”

“I’m not going to shoot you.”

“And I’m not going to hesitate if you become a threat,” you replied coolly, though something in your voice faltered at the end. Just a little.

A pause stretched between you.

Then he said it, almost like a confession to the wind “I’ve seen you before. In dreams.”

The expression you wore froze. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your throat tightened, because you’d seen him too every night since you woke up in Elio’s care, with a name you barely remembered and a void where your past should’ve been. A silver haired boy with amber eyes, reaching for you just as you disappeared. And now he was here, real and breathing and looking at you like he knew your soul.

“I don’t know you,” you said, a bit too quickly.

“Maybe not,” Caelus said, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips, “but I think… I loved you, once.”

Your heart missed a beat. Behind your back, your fingers curled into a fist and you backed up. You hated the way his words made your chest ache. Hated the way the cold mask you wore suddenly felt too heavy. Because if what he said was true if you had loved him once then fate had played a cruel trick and you didn’t know if you had the strength to undo it.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ The world returned in fragments like shards of a broken mirror pressed too close to your eyes. At first, there was only the hum. Low, metallic, steady. Then light. Blinding. Cold. You gasped. Air surged into your lungs like you hadn’t breathed in centuries. You jolted upright with a strangled sound, hand instinctively reaching out for something someone.

But there was only silence. You blinked furiously, vision adjusting to the sterile, glass panelled room around you. Pale walls. A console blinking with unreadable data. You were lying on a bed no, a containment pod, cracked slightly down the side. It smelled like ozone and dust.

“Easy little one.” A voice. Calm, smooth, a touch amused. You turned sharply.

Kafka stood at the foot of the pod, arms crossed, one brow slightly arched. She looked completely unbothered, as if this was routine. As if you were routine. You stared at her like she might be part of the dream.

“Who…?” Your voice rasped out, raw. “Where…?”

“Questions already?” Kafka mused.

You opened your mouth to retort and froze. You didn’t know your name. No, wait you did. Barely. It floated to the surface like a whisper. You clutched it like a lifeline. “…My name is…” You hesitated. “I think it’s [Y/N].”

Kafka nodded slowly, like she was testing the shape of your name against the air. “It suits you.”

You sat there, stunned. Trembling slightly. “What… happened to me?”

She shrugged, a glint in her violet eyes. “A warp event. Something… untraceable. We found you drifting between coordinates with a fractured signal and half a heartbeat. Elio said you’d be important.”

“Elio…?”

“You’ll meet him eventually. For now, it’s just us.” You looked down at your hands. They felt wrong. Or maybe the world did.

“I don’t remember anything,” you whispered.

“No,” Kafka said. “But your instincts remain intact. That’s the part that matters.” You flinched when she stepped closer, but she only placed a hand on your shoulder gentle, grounding. Her smile softened, just slightly.

“Listen to me. You were meant for something greater. A fate rewritten by stars too scared of your potential. Elio saw it. And I do too.”

You stared up at her, desperate, haunted. “Then why do I feel like I’m… missing something?”

Kafka tilted her head, curious. “Missing someone, you mean?” Your breath caught. Because for all the blanks in your memory, there was one thing one constant you couldn’t explain away. Amber eyes, filled with light. A boy smiling at you like you were his entire world. Reaching for your hand as everything around you crumbled.

“I don’t know who he is,” you whispered. “But I see him when I sleep.” Kafka didn’t answer right away.

Then, softly “Maybe one day, you’ll remember. Maybe one day, he’ll find you.” You never remembered the moment you met him. There was no clean origin, no first conversation etched in time just the feeling. Like gravity had shifted in your chest. Like your soul had turned its head toward someone and said, “There you are.”

Even in the days after waking, long before Elio whispered of fate and purpose, you carried that strange ache. It sat beneath your ribs, subtle but persistent. As if your heart had memorized a rhythm it could no longer hear and still beat along with it anyway. And always, him. A boy reaching for you through dreams. Sometimes smiling. Sometimes calling your name. Sometimes standing still at the edge of a world collapsing in gold. You never saw his full face, not really. It shifted with every dream like your memory was afraid to settle. But the feeling stayed the same. Safety. Sadness. Love.

Kafka called it a side effect of a damaged warp phantom memories stitched together by a soul that had jumped too many coordinates, too fast. Elio said nothing. He only looked at you, eyes unreadable, and murmured “Even in broken timelines, some threads find each other again.”

You didn’t know what that meant. Not then. But now standing in this fractured city, staring into Caelus’s eyes you do. Because it’s not a coincidence. Not a trick of dreams or Stellaron interference. It’s older than memory. Deeper than fate. A bond written somewhere before the stars. You and Caelus are mirror souls two halves born in the same cosmic breath, scattered by a universe that didn’t know how to hold you.

Maybe you boarded the Astral Express, once. Maybe you stood beside him, laughed with him, loved him. Maybe you were torn from that path by a warp gone wrong, or a choice you never knew you made. But your souls remember. They reach for each other still in dreams, in battles, in silences where your fingers almost twitch toward his before you stop yourself.

You were meant to walk together. But the universe split you. Now, you’re on opposite sides of a war you don’t fully understand. But the bond? It hasn’t faded. It can’t. Because no matter how much memory was taken, how many times your paths diverged. You are still drawn to him. Still tethered by something ancient and unfinished.

And when Caelus whispered, “I think I loved you, once,” your soul didn’t hesitate. It whispered back “You still do.”

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

At first, you didn’t speak to anyone. You woke, you trained, you followed instructions. No questions. No smiles. No attachments. That was how it started. The other Stellaron Hunters didn’t mind. Blade said nothing, as usual. Silver Wolf barely looked up from her screens. Sam never came close enough for conversation, and Kafka was always watching.

She never pushed, never pried. Just watched, like she already knew the storm inside you and was waiting for the clouds to shift. But it was her, in the end, who pulled you into the rhythm of this strange place. It started with a game.

“You’re watching me again,” you muttered one evening, eyes fixed on the holographic wall map you’d been pretending to study for the last ten minutes.

Kafka leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. “I do that.”

You turned, half expecting mockery in her eyes. Instead, there was something softer faint amusement, edged with quiet interest.

“I’m not broken,” you said flatly. “You don’t have to treat me like I’ll crack open.”

“I never said you were,” she replied, and then, after a pause, “But you are still unfinished.”

“Unfinished?”

Kafka stepped forward, her coat trailing behind her like a slow moving shadow. “You remember fragments. Dreams. Pieces of another life. You haven’t decided yet who you want to be in this one.”

You clenched your jaw. “Maybe I already have.”

“Have you?” she asked, too gently.

You didn’t answer.

Later that night, she left something outside your room.A data pad. A short file. A simulation: sparring tactics against hypothetical enemies. Paired drills. On a whim, you ran the simulation. when you did, it loaded a preset with Kafka’s movement patterns coded as the partner. Every step she made was measured, confident. Every time you moved, the code adapted like she was anticipating you. Like she already knew how you fought. You didn’t sleep that night. Not because of fear or anxiety, but because you became entranced

From then on, things shifted.

You stopped avoiding the others in the corridors. Started nodding back when Silver Wolf greeted you with a lazy two finger wave. Listened when Blade offered one word advice during training. Responded when Kafka teased you, even if it was just with a dry, “Don’t push your luck.”

You began asking questions quiet ones, when no one was around.

“What’s Sam’s story?”

“Why does Blade meditate with his blade drawn?”

“Does Silver Wolf ever lose in those games?”

And every time, Kafka answered. Not always directly. Sometimes with riddles, sometimes with little smiles that said, You’ll figure it out. But she answered. More than that she listened. When you told her about the dreams again, she didn’t tell you to ignore them.

She only asked, “Do you want to remember?”

You did. Even if it hurt.

Weeks passed.

Your coat bore the Hunter insignia now. You walked with purpose in the base’s dim halls. You learned their methods how to dismantle systems, how to fight in sync with someone you weren’t sure you trusted, how to exist beside people who had no need for sentiment, but somehow left space for it anyway. Kafka didn’t change much.

But you started to see the way she lingered when Blade was injured. The way she glanced at Silver Wolf with a sisterly fondness when she thought no one noticed. The way she always made sure you got the missions that aligned with your strengths.

“Why do you help me?” you asked once, after a particularly clean victory where the two of you fought side by side, flawless.

Kafka didn’t miss a beat. “Because I remember what it feels like to be lost. And because Elio says you’re important.”

You scoffed. “You always follow Elio’s predictions?”

Kafka’s lips curved. “Only when I agree with them.” despite yourself, you smiled back.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ Kafka’s voice was calm over the comms.

“Quick in, quick out. Eyes open, [Y/N]. The relay’s still broadcasting faint traces of encrypted Express data. Elio wants to know why.” You crouched behind a collapsed support beam, hand tightening on your weapon. Your breath fogged slightly in the cold air. The station’s artificial gravity pulsed irregularly, like the heartbeat of something half dead.

“I don’t like it here,” you murmured. “Too quiet.”

“You’ll get used to that,” Kafka replied. “Most haunted places start that way.”

The door groaned as it opened rusted metal, reluctant hinges. You stepped inside, Kafka at your back, the hallway stretching before you like the throat of a dying star. The walls were scorched. Burned out terminals flickered and fizzed with leftover sparks. Bits of fabric clung to jagged debris passenger coats, maybe. You stepped over a half buried nameplate that read T78–Celestial Relay: Astral Express Docking Site.

You froze. Astral Express. The words rang in your head like a forgotten lullaby.

“Something wrong?” Kafka asked.

You stared at the nameplate, unsure what to say. “I… I think I’ve been here before.”

Kafka didn’t answer right away. She simply stepped beside you, gaze trailing over the ruined corridor. “Maybe you have.”

You pressed your hand against the wall, fingers brushing a faded imprint someone had drawn stars here once. The paint had nearly chipped away, but you could still make out the rough lines of a train and what looked like… a tiny figure standing at its edge. Your heart clenched. And then A whisper. Soft. Unmistakable.

“–[Y/N], you coming? We don’t leave people behind–”

You whipped around. No one was there. The hallway behind you remained empty, Kafka standing still as a statue beside the doorway.

“What did you hear?” she asked quietly.

You blinked. “That voice. I… I knew it.”

Kafka turned to face you, her expression unreadable. “What did it sound like?”

“Warm,” you whispered, before you could stop yourself. “He called my name like it meant something. Like I was his… crew.”

A slow beat of silence passed. Kafka stepped forward and reached up gently pressed two fingers to your temple. Not unkind. Not forceful. Just enough pressure to draw your attention.

“That’s not just a memory,” she murmured. “That’s a tether.” Your breath hitched.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will,” Kafka said. “Elio predicted this. A place would wake the memories. A name. A sound. You weren’t meant to forget it all. The universe just… paused you. Stalled the connection.”

You turned toward the hallway again. In the distance, barely audible, came another voice. Fainter this time. Familiar.

“Don’t wander off again, [Y/N]…”

Your lips parted. You could see it, just for a second flashing gold windows, March’s laughter, the faint hum of the Astral Express engine purring beneath your feet. It faded as quickly as it came.

“I… was with them,” you said softly, gripping your sleeve. “Before. Before all this. I can feel it.” Kafka studied you with something like pride.

“You’re remembering who you were. The question now is who do you want to be?”

You didn’t answer. Not yet. Instead, you turned back down the hall and whispered, like a promise only the stars could hear,

“I’ll find you.”

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ The first time he saw her, it was in a dream. She stood at the edge of a broken platform, surrounded by stardust. Hair swaying in a nonexistent wind, face turned away, just slightly. The light around her bent like it knew her. Soft, reverent.

She didn’t speak. Caelus woke with his chest aching. At first, he chalked it up to warp sickness. Another leftover hallucination, maybe Stellaron residue playing tricks on his head. It wasn’t new. Flashes of unfamiliar places, déjà vu that made no sense. The usual.

But this was different. Because the girl didn’t fade. She kept showing up. Not just in dreams now, but in thoughts. In echoes. In odd moments where he’d catch his reflection in a terminal screen and think She’s looking for me. He missed her. This random girl.

Without knowing her name. Without knowing if she was real. He missed her. Like his soul had once been stitched to hers, and something some event, some warping twist of fate had torn it in half.

“Hey,” March’s voice snapped him out of it, “you okay?”

He blinked. Realized he’d been staring out the train’s window for who knows how long. The stars looked endless tonight. Cold. Unreachable.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” she teased, leaning in. “Don’t tell me you’re finally getting poetic about the stars. Welt’s going to cry.”

He tried to smile. “Nothing important.”

But even then, he heard it.

A whisper, not quite sound, threading through his mind like a thread through fabric:

“Caelus…”

The way she said it wasn’t scared. Or urgent. It was warm. Familiar.

Intimate.

He rubbed at his temple. “It’s happening again.”

March sobered. “The dreams?”

He nodded. “She’s… everywhere. But I don’t know her.”

“You’re sure she’s not someone we met on another planet?”

“I know I’ve never met her,” Caelus murmured. “But it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’ve always known her. Like I’m forgetting something I should never have forgotten.”

March frowned, stepping a little closer. “What does she look like?”

“I don’t know. Her face is always in light. Or in motion. Or…” He sighed. “She’s always just out of reach.”

March crossed her arms. “Sounds like a cosmic love story.”

“Or a curse,” he muttered.

He meant it.

Because it hurt, missing someone you didn’t even know. It made no sense, but she had become a presence an ache under his ribs, a name he didn’t know how to speak.

That night, the dream changed. He was on the Express but not this one. The colors were warmer. The crew felt familiar, yet different. And there she was finally facing him. This time no blur and no haze.

She smiled, soft and sad. Like she knew something he didn’t. Like she’d watched him from afar for a long, long time.

He took a step forward. She held out her hand.

The sound of shattering glass. Light tore across the dream like lightning. Her image cracked, distorted, fell apart.

He screamed her name Except he didn’t know it. He woke up gasping.

He stood in the hallway outside the passenger car now, gripping the rail, heart pounding. The stars outside flickered like they were trying to whisper something back.

“I don’t know who you are,” he murmured, voice rough. “But I think I’m supposed to.”

Though he felt he had loved her once. that love got lost between the stars. But it was finding its way back. He could feel it.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The moment hung between you like a heartbeat suspended in air fragile, trembling, too afraid to fall.

You didn’t speak.

Couldn’t.

Because if you did, something would break.

Maybe it was the persona you’d built. Maybe it was the invisible wall that Elio insisted you keep between yourself and the rest of the galaxy. Or maybe… it was the feeling you’d been running from since the day you woke up in Kafka’s care:

The ache of knowing someone you’d never met.

Of longing for something you never had.

Of being seen when you had no memory of who you were supposed to be.

And Caelus saw you.

Not the mask. Not the weapon. You.

He stood there, closer than he should have, amber eyes gentler than any soldier’s had a right to be, and you hated how your resolve cracked around the edges just by looking at him.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said, voice barely above the whine of static in the air. “I just… want to understand.”

Your mouth opened then shut again.

The wind shifted between the broken towers, pulling at your coat. You turned away first. Because if you kept looking at him, you weren’t sure you’d be able to hold your ground.

“I don’t care what you dreamed,” you said finally, trying to sound cold. Detached. “Whatever you think we were… I’m not that girl anymore.”

“I know,” he murmured, and that was somehow worse.

Because he meant it. And he still looked at you like that.

Like he was remembering you, even if you’d forgotten yourself.

Before you could respond, Kafka’s voice crackled in your earpiece.

“Darling. We’ve got what we need. Time to disappear.”

You inhaled sharply through your nose, nodding to nothing. for a second, just before you moved, your hand twitched again reaching out, purely instinct. But then you turned.

You vanished into the fractured skyline, not even a ripple left in your wake. Caelus didn’t follow. He just watched you go, a strange, hollow kind of sorrow nesting in his chest.

“She didn’t try to kill us,” March 7th said flatly.

“Progress,” Dan Heng deadpanned.

Caelus didn’t laugh.

He sat in silence, watching the universe drift past the train’s window. His reflection stared back at him, eyes tired and heart somewhere lightyears behind.

She didn’t remember him.

But her fingers had twitched when she said his name. Like muscle memory. Like muscle memory aching to reach out.

She was the one he’d been dreaming of. The one who didn’t board the Express. The one who was never supposed to walk the path she was on. The one fate had twisted away from him.

Later, after the brief standoff after Kafka led you away with a smile and a smug wave, and after Himeko called the mission a partial success Caelus sat alone in the Express observatory.

He stared out at the stars, but they felt different now.

You were real. And you knew him.

Not just knew of him. You knew him. The way your eyes lingered. The subtle way your fingers twitched when his voice hit the air. The way your name still escaped him but your presence didn’t.

“You okay?” March leaned in from behind, holding a cup of cocoa.

He didn’t turn. Just nodded. “I met her.”

March blinked. “Her?”

“…The one from the dreams.”

Her brows shot up. “Wait, seriously? That’s the girl?”

He nodded again. “She’s with Kafka.”

March made a face. “Of course she is. That explains the cool and mysterious aura coming from your weird head.”

“I don’t think she remembers me fully,” he said softly. “But she said my name.”

“hmmmm this feels kinda crazy,” March said, sitting beside him. “This is like some weird soulmate thing.”

Caelus glanced at her. “Is that even possible?”

She smirked. “With us? Anything’s possible.”

He turned back to the stars.

Somewhere out there, on another ship, or in another world, she had stood beside him. He knew it.

And even if time or fate had pulled them apart he was going to find his way back.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

It was stupid.

Dangerous.

Kafka had already noticed.

“You’ve been requesting missions in Express protected zones a lot lately,” she said one evening, her tone lazy, her gaze razor sharp. “Coincidence?”

You didn’t answer. Just kept cleaning your gear with surgical precision.

“…You saw him again, didn’t you?”

You paused, hand tightening on the cloth.

Kafka smiled like a cat who’d just cornered a bird. “I knew it.”

You didn’t look up. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart, if it were nothing, your hands wouldn’t be shaking.”

They weren’t until she said it.

You shoved the cloth into your bag and stood. “Give me a mission.”

“Where to?”

You hesitated.

“Doesn’t matter,” you lied. “Anywhere near the Express.”

Kafka didn’t tease you. She just tilted her head, watching you like you were a story she already knew the ending to.

“Alright,” she said, voice soft. “Just try not to break his heart too fast.”

You rolled your eyes but your chest twisted. Because you didn’t want to break anything. You just… wanted to see him again.

Even if it was across a battlefield. Even if it was a few glances stolen between chaos. Even if it meant pretending you didn’t feel like the universe was holding its breath every time your paths aligned.

‼️‼️‼️

“Trailblazer, are you sure you need to scout that sector again?” Himeko asked, not unkindly.

“Yes,” Caelus said immediately. “I have a feeling.”

Dan Heng raised a brow. “A feeling.”

“Yeah.”

March grinned. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Caelus didn’t deny it.

He didn’t know what he was expecting maybe another cold stare, another few seconds of standing too close without touching. But every time he caught a whisper of your presence on a planet, his heart pulled like a compass needle snapping to true north.

lately? You’d been showing up a lot. He started waiting on rooftops after missions, lingering longer than necessary. Hoping. Searching.

One time, he swore he caught your silhouette vanishing behind the smoke of a blown power core. Another, he spotted a shimmer in a crowd just a flicker of your coat as you disappeared into a ship.

You never stayed. you were always there.

You crouched at the edge of a ruined dome, watching the Express land below like a ghost too afraid to knock on the door.

Your comm buzzed.

Kafka: “You just gonna stare again, or say hi this time?”

You didn’t answer. Because you didn’t know how to explain it. That this wasn’t love…. at most you don’t know what that word even meant

He felt like It was gravity. He was the center of something you couldn’t name, and every time you stepped close, the past stirred in your bones like a song you once knew.

And still, you stayed. Watching him laugh with March. Watching him glance over his shoulder, like he felt you nearby. Watching him wait.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The stars above the shattered dome flickered like dying embers dim, faraway, forgotten. The observatory was dead, a relic from a time when people still believed the cosmos could be mapped, understood, controlled.

Now, it was just quiet. A perfect place to hide. You didn’t know why you were here. Not really. The coordinates had come through a scrambled data trail supposedly a scouting point for a Hunter op. But Kafka had said nothing. She’d just smiled when she saw the file and said, “Go.”

So you went. You didn’t expect him to be there too. But the moment you stepped through the cracked threshold, you knew. The air changed. Like the world itself paused to take a breath.

And then you saw him.

Caelus stood by the remnants of a collapsed telescope, bathed in soft starlight filtering through the fractured glass above. His coat rustled quietly as he turned.

His eyes widened.

“…You.”

You didn’t move. You should’ve run. Should’ve vanished like you always did. your boots felt rooted to the floor, and your chest was tight with something you didn’t have a name for.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said, voice low.

“I know,” he replied. “But I hoped you would be.”

That stopped you cold.

“…Why?”

“Because I can’t keep pretending you’re just a dream.”

Your heart stuttered.

He took a slow step forward. You didn’t stop him.

“You keep showing up,” he said, quietly. “And every time, I think maybe it’s just a trick. Just my mind trying to make sense of something it can’t remember. But then I see you. And I know.”

You swallowed hard.

“There’s a reason we remember each other,” he went on. “Even if we don’t know how.”

You looked away. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I don’t have to,” he said. “Because when I see you I feel peace. Like the galaxy makes sense for a second.”

That… hurt. Because you didn’t just feel peace when you saw him. You felt everything else. Hope. Ache. Fear. That sharp, impossible longing like something inside you was trying to claw its way out just to reach him.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you whispered.

“well that shouldn’t feeling kinda doesn’t apply here,” Caelus said again, gentler.

Silence stretched between you fragile, sacred. Then, softly, he asked, “Can I come closer?”

You nodded.

He stepped toward you, slow and careful, until there was only a breath between you. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then gently, so gently his hand reached out and hovered near yours. Not touching. Just waiting.

And your fingers… trembled.

You didn’t take his hand.

But you didn’t pull away either. It was the closest you’d been. Not physically emotionally. Soulfully. And for the first time since you woke up with no memories, you didn’t feel lost.

You felt… found.

It just hovered there between you, caught in some invisible tension neither of you had the words to sever. Caelus stayed still too, though you could tell he wanted to say something his eyes kept flicking to your expression, like he was trying to read stars in a language he used to know.

Then, very softly, he chuckled.

You blinked.

“What?” you asked warily.

“I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, expression going a little sheepish. “I was trying to think of something poetic to say. You know, something like, ‘Even across galaxies, I’d find you,’ or ‘Your eyes remind me of starlight before a warp jump.’” He paused. “But that would be cringe, right?”

You stared at him.

And then against your own instincts you laughed. It was small, quiet, almost disbelieving, but it escaped you anyway. “That’s so cringe.”

“I knew it!” he grinned, victorious. “See? March would’ve roasted me for it too.”

Your lips twitched. “You really are a dork,” you muttered.

“I prefer charmingly knight super cool amazing, thank you very much,” Caelus said, placing a dramatic hand to his heart. “Besides, you were about two seconds away from touching my hand. I saw the twitch. Don’t lie.”

You rolled your eyes, but something in your chest… eased. He noticed. And that dumb little smile of his softened into something quieter.

“I’m not trying to pressure you,” he said. “I just wanted to see you. Talk.”

You didn’t answer right away. The truth was you didn’t know who you were now. Not completely. But sitting here, with the moonlight dusting your boots and this ridiculous boy talking about bad pickup lines in the middle of a ruined observatory. You didn’t feel like a Stellaron Hunter. You didn’t feel like a traitor or a mistake. You felt… normal. For the first time in forever.

Your fingers inched just slightly toward his. Barely enough to count. But Caelus noticed. He grinned.

“So,” he said, voice light again, “should I keep going with the pickup lines, or have I impressed you enough for one night?”

You exhaled slowly.

“…Let’s just sit.”

He nodded. “I’m good at that. Sitting. Part of my best skills.”

You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away when he finally sat beside you close, not touching.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

Caelus couldn’t stop smiling.

It wasn’t his usual half grin or smug little smirk it was a real smile. One of those stupid, giddy ones that made his face hurt and had absolutely no business existing after a trip to a dead observatory.

But here he was. Practically skipping down the corridor of the Express like a guy who’d just gotten a love confession and a puppy all in one day.

He didn’t get what was happening. But he felt it. That weight in his chest that had been following him since the warp it was lighter now. Not gone, but gentler. Like seeing you made the ache less unbearable.

Even if you’d only laughed once. Even if your hand had hovered, not held. Even if you still looked like you were ready to vanish at the first sign of a threat.

It didn’t matter. He’d seen the crack in the mask. He’d seen you.

“Okay, you’re smiling. That’s never a good sign,” a voice called.

Caelus turned just as March 7th leaned dramatically over the back of the lounge couch, a mock suspicious look in her eyes. “Did you get hit on the head, or are you in love?”

“What?” Caelus blinked, then coughed. “Neither!”

“That was the most unconvincing response I’ve ever heard in my life,” March grinned.

“Didn’t even try to lie properly,” Dan Heng muttered from behind his book, not looking up.

“Oh my god.” March gasped and pointed at him. “You’re blushing. Are you blushing?!”

“I am not blushing,” Caelus said, very obviously blushing.

“You totally are!” she squealed. “You went somewhere, didn’t you? You did the secret meeting thing. The ‘forbidden connection across enemy lines’ thing. Like star crossed lovers in a trashy space novel!”

“I just… I ran into her,” Caelus muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “We talked. That’s all.”

March narrowed her eyes. “Define ‘talked.’”

“…There were words.”

“Ooooh. There were feelings,” March declared. “Dan Heng, he’s so doomed.”

Dan Heng sighed without looking up. “I’ll alert the press.”

At the front of the Express, Himeko sipped her coffee until she tilted her head toward Welt with a smirk. “I think the kids are gossiping again.”

Welt glanced up from the terminal, raising an eyebrow. “Should we be concerned?”

“Well, considering our dear Trailblazer seems to be falling for a Stellaron Hunter, I’d say yes,” she said with a knowing smile. “But also… not yet. Let them feel something. They’ve earned it.”

Back near the lounge, Caelus flopped onto the couch beside March and groaned into a pillow.

“I didn’t mean to like her,” he mumbled.

“That’s how it always starts,” March said with faux dramatic flair. “You ‘accidentally’ develop feelings for the mysterious, emotionally complicated girl who may or may not be working for a morally grey space cult.”

“She laughed at one of my dumb jokes,” Caelus admitted, muffled.

March gasped again. “She laughed?! Oh, it’s over for you. You’re done. Pack it up. Go write her name on your locker and doodle hearts in your journal.”

“I don’t have a locker.”

“its a metaphor you stupid hoe,” she said solemnly.

And as the Express continued its course through the stars, the crew kept teasing, bickering, and beneath it all watching over each other. Even if they didn’t say it, they all felt it.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

This sector was too close to the Express’s patrol route, and Kafka had given you a very specific order to avoid unnecessary contact with the crew for your own good, allegedly. But “allegedly” didn’t stop your feet from wandering. And it sure didn’t stop him.

Because Caelus was already there, poking his head around a half crushed console like he was looking for snacks and not violating multiple interdimensional boundaries.

“Psst,” he whispered, ducking behind a pillar like a badly disguised spy.

You stared at him, deadpan. “You followed me.”

“I think the term stumbled across you like fate intended,” he said, peeking out again with a hopeful smile.

You folded your arms. “You almost got spotted by Silver Wolf’s scouts. If I hadn’t looped their surveillance…”

“Okay, so maybe I’m not great at stealth,” Caelus admitted, sheepish. “But I am great at being incredibly charming in the face of mortal peril.”

You opened your mouth to tell him off but then he crouched, balancing on one leg with his arms out like a chicken, and made a dramatic caw noise.

“See? You can’t stay mad at this level of grace.”

You stared. Then pinched the bridge of your nose. And yet… your lips twitched. Damn it.

He grinned wider, clearly catching it. “There it is! The tiniest smile. I knew I could break through that scary, cool Hunter persona.”

“I’m not scary,” you muttered.

“You’re terrifying. In a hot way.”

You rolled your eyes, turning away to hide the heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’re a really weird guy.”

“And yet you keep meeting me,” he said, stepping closer now. “Isn’t that funny?”

It wasn’t funny. It was frustrating. It was dangerous. Every second spent with him risked blowing your cover, ruining your mission. Staying away from the people that hindered the stellarons hunters wishes

But every time he smiled at you like that like you were the only real thing left in the galaxy. You forgot what side you were on.

“Caelus…” you started, voice wavering.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you do this?” Your eyes locked with his. “Why do you keep chasing me when we’re supposed to be enemies?”

He hesitated, surprised by the weight in your voice.

Then he shrugged, quietly this time. “Because even when I close my eyes, I still see you. And I think… if I stop chasing that, I’ll regret it forever.”

Something in your chest cracked open. The longing. The ache. The static in your blood. It surged all at once.

You didn’t think. Didn’t plan. You just grabbed his collar and kissed him. Hard. The impact startled him his hands flying to steady you, your fingers curled in his jacket like you’d fall apart if you let go. It was clumsy, fierce, desperate.

You felt his breath hitch. Felt his fingers tighten. Though suddenly. The static surged. Your knees gave out and the world tilted. You collapsed into his arms, your consciousness slipping like smoke.

“Whoa! Wait!” Caelus caught you before you hit the ground, wide eyed. “Okay, not how I imagined our first kiss going hey, are you okay? Are you? Oh god, did I break you?!”

He knelt, cradling you gently, brushing hair from your face as your breathing steadied but your eyes stayed shut.

“…You kissed me,” he whispered, stunned.

Then, more softly.

“…Please wake up so I can tell you how i really feel”

A few moments pass and you’re still completely knocked out.

“She’s not waking up. She’s not waking up. She’s not okay okay it’s fine, I’ve definitely… totally… handled something like this before…”

He hadn’t. Caelus was not fine. You were unconscious in his arms, and he had no idea why. He was racing back toward the Express through dimensional shrapnel and twisted corridors like he was running from the universe itself. Every few seconds, he glanced down to make sure you were still breathing.

You were. Shallow, but steady. Thank every star in the sky.

“I mean, you kiss a girl, and she immediately collapses that’s gotta be a record, right?” he muttered, mostly to keep from screaming. “Cool, Caelus. Real smooth. She finally kisses you and the stellaron hunter gets beaten by a kiss. note to tell Dan heng to use that on blade later”

His foot snagged on a floating stone, and he nearly tumbled. He tightened his hold, shielding your head.

“Sorry, sorry gotcha,” he said softly, eyes flicking to your face. “You don’t look hurt. You just… fainted? Did I do something wrong? Was it the hair? Be honest, you hate the hair, don’t you?”

No answer. Just the soft, steady rise and fall of your chest.

The Express came into view. Warm lights. Familiar hum. A tether back to sanity. He bolted inside, panting. “Emergency! Kind of! I mean, not me okay, yes me, but mostly her!”

March’s head whipped up from the couch. “Is that?!”

Dan Heng appeared instantly at the sound of frantic footsteps, and Himeko turned from the navigation console.

“What happened?” she asked sharply, crossing the room. “Isnt she that girl youre always talking about?”

“I I don’t know! I mean, I do, but I don’t she’s the girl from the dimensional fault. She kissed me long story and then she just collapsed.”

“You kissed the enemy?” March asked, voice pitched somewhere between scandalized and amazed. “Oh my, Caelus!”

“She kissed me!” he hissed, glancing down at you. “And then passed out, which is not how kisses usually go right? That’s not normal?”

Welt Yang stepped in, grave and composed as always. “Where exactly did this happen?”

“Fragmented zone, a relay station near the collapsed ruins. She was fine then not. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You made the right choice,” Himeko said gently, already checking your pulse.

“She’s… she’s okay, right?” Caelus asked, voice cracking as he dropped to his knees beside you.

Welt nodded slowly. “Stable vitals. No external trauma. But her energy readings are odd.”

“Odd how?” Caelus asked.

March peeked over Welt’s shoulder. “Like Stellaron odd? Trailblazer odd? Or, like, cute girl with dangerous secrets odd?”

Welt exhaled. “Yes.”

Caelus swallowed hard. He looked at your face again. Still so still.

“Hey,” he murmured, taking your hand carefully. “You can’t just… leave me hanging like that. You can’t kiss me and ghost me in the same breath. That’s rude.”

March elbowed Dan Heng. “Yo i love the guy but has he ever been serious”

“I don’t think so,” Dan Heng replied dryly.

“I’m serious,” Caelus said, voice softer now. “You gotta wake up soon. I don’t care who you are. Or what you think you have to be. I just… I want to know you. The real you.”

Your fingers didn’t twitch.

But your heartbeat, quietly, began to quicken. The cabin of the Astral Express felt too quiet. You were still unconscious, resting in the medbay with March standing guard just in case you woke up and decided to, you know, unleash chaos. Dan Heng was nearby, arms crossed, calm but clearly on edge.

And Himeko… was doing something no one expected.

“She’s calling Kafka?” March whispered, wide eyed. “That’s… wow. That’s like dialing a volcano and asking it politely not to erupt.”

“I’m not asking,” Himeko said smoothly, tone neutral as she tapped into the comms. “I’m informing. She’s going to want to know her operative’s alive and on board. I’d prefer that information come from us than from, say… a surveillance drone.”

“Or a giant explosion,” Caelus mumbled from where he slumped against the wall.

March shot him a look. “You really kissed her, huh?”

“She kissed me,” he repeated, quietly now. “And then she collapsed. Not exactly the grand romantic moment I imagined.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘cursed,’” March offered helpfully.

Before he could spiral further, Welt Yang appeared beside him and nodded toward the back car. “Walk with me?”

Caelus didn’t argue. They ended up on the observation deck, stars stretched out endlessly through the glass windows. The silence was nice. Heavy, but nice.

“You’ve been quiet,” Welt said after a while.

“Trying not to panic,” Caelus admitted. “Not doing a great job.”

Welt studied him with the patience of someone who’d seen too many wars and too many versions of the same story. “You’re allowed to panic. But you’re also allowed to hope.”

Caelus leaned his head against the window, watching a comet streak by. “She was… cold. Distant. But when she looked at me, it felt like someone lit up the whole room. Like a puzzle piece finally clicked, even if it didn’t make sense.”

“And the kiss?”

“Unplanned. Very… wow. And then terrifying.”

Welt chuckled quietly. “Feelings can do that. Especially when they come from somewhere deeper than memory.”

“You think she’s really?”

“I think the universe has a way of trying again when it gets something wrong,” Welt said gently. “You two… may have been pulled apart by something beyond your control. That doesn’t mean you can’t find your way back.”

Caelus swallowed the knot in his throat.

“I just what if she wakes up and remembers who she is, and it means she leaves? Or worse, tries to finish what she started?”

“Then you face that moment with the same bravery you faced her now. With heart.”

Caelus looked up at him.

“…You’re good at this.”

Welt smiled, faint but kind. “I’ve had practice.”

The silence stretched between them comfortably this time. Then March’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“Uh, guys? So… Kafka responded. She’s coming. ETA fifteen minutes.”

Caelus stiffened.

Welt simply exhaled. “Well. Time to prepare for company.”

“And by company,” Caelus muttered, “you mean the scariest lady who might murder me for smooching her agent.”

“She might also say ‘thanks,’” Welt mused.

“…That would be a miracle.”

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

She came with the wind. No ship announced her arrival. No screeching engines or blaring alarms warned the crew. Just a sudden, eerie stillness like the Express itself recognized the presence walking its halls and chose to hold its breath.

Caelus stood in the medbay doorway, arms crossed tight against his chest, heart hammering like it still hadn’t caught up to the kiss or the collapse that followed.

You hadn’t stirred. Not once. He didn’t know what terrified him more the silence from your body… or the way he wasnt sure what everything meant

Then she appeared. Kafka stepped through the door like a queen entering her court graceful, confident, her long coat fluttering gently with her stride. Eyes sharp and knowing. Expression unreadable, but tinged with something… fond. Like she’d expected this.

“Well,” she murmured, surveying the scene. “You’re earlier than I thought, Caelus.”

He blinked. “You… expected this?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, her gaze fell on you, lying still and pale on the cot, a faint glimmer of light pulsing beneath your skin where your mask once was.

Kafka smiled softly.

She walked closer and crouched beside you, brushing a gloved hand over your forehead in a rare moment of gentleness. “She always did overdo things when emotions were involved. Even across timelines, some things stay the same.”

Caelus stepped forward, jaw tight. “What happened to her?”

Kafka tilted her head. “She remembered you. More than she was supposed to. More than her mind this version of her was ready to accept.”

“What do you mean, ‘this version’?” Caelus asked slowly, dreading the answer.

Kafka looked up at him. “She’s not from here. Not exactly.”

Silence. Dan Heng, March, Welt, and Himeko stood nearby, tension bleeding into the room like fog.

“She’s a splinter,” Kafka continued. “A fracture of someone that once existed in a timeline that was… erased. In that version of the world, she boarded the Express. Just like you. She was one of yours.”

“…Ours?” Caelus echoed.

“You were happy,” Kafka said with a smile. “Close. Devoted. She loved you, Caelus. More than duty, more than fear. Enough to leap across timelines when fate collapsed around her.”

His breath caught. Kafka rose, brushing imaginary dust from her gloves. “Elio found her adrift. Not quite nothing, not quite whole. And I well, I’ve always had a soft spot for lost causes.”

March folded her arms. “So… you knew she didn’t belong with the Stellaron Hunters?”

“She belonged where her heart led her,” Kafka replied coolly. “We never forced her to stay. She chose to remain. But I knew the day would come when the two of you would meet again. Some things are inevitable.”

Himeko narrowed her gaze. “Then why bring her in at all?”

Kafka looked at her. Smiled. “Because sometimes, a storm needs a place to land.”

“…That’s not an answer,” Dan Heng said.

“No,” Kafka replied, unbothered. “It isn’t.”

She turned back toward Caelus then. Her tone gentled. “She found you again. Against all odds. And even without memories, her soul still remembered.”

Caelus swallowed. His voice felt hoarse. “So what now?”

“Now?” Kafka took a step toward him, something unreadable in her eyes. “Now you wait. Be patient. She’s strong. Stubborn. She’ll come back to you.”

Then, a pause deliberate and teasing. She leaned closer. “And be good, Caelus.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Be. Good,” she repeated with a sly smile. “Or I’ll steal her back.”

He flushed. “she came to me, you know.”

Kafka’s grin widened. “Soulmates do that. No matter the odds. No matter the sides.”

He stared at her. She softened. Just a fraction.

“Even when she was one of us,” she said quietly, “she still looked at the stars and dreamed of you. You’d think that kind of devotion would die between timelines, but… it doesn’t.”

Caelus’s chest ached.

“She loved you then,” Kafka whispered. “And if you’re lucky, she’ll love you again.”

Her gaze turned thoughtful.

“Opposing sides don’t mean much to the heart. What matters is how hard you’re willing to love, even when the universe tries to tear you apart.” Then she brushed past him, heading toward the door.

“Wait,” Caelus said. “Are you just going to leave her?”

Kafka smiled over her shoulder. “She’s exactly where she needs to be.” And with that, she was gone. Silence returned. Caelus stood there for a moment, eyes on your still form. Then, quietly, Welt stepped to his side again.

“Well,” he said gently, “you heard the woman.”

Caelus exhaled shakily. “Yeah…”

“She’ll come back.”

Caelus nodded. “Yeah.” And when she does, he thought, I’m not letting go again.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ It starts with light. Soft, golden, and endless. You’re weightless, drifting. Not through space through memory. Through pieces of yourself you didn’t know were missing. At first, the visions are disjointed, blurred at the edges. Like film caught between frames. A laugh. Your own. It’s bright, full of something warm. Something forgotten. You’re standing in the Astral Express kitchen, sleeves rolled up, flour on your cheek. March 7th is beside you, wielding a spoon like a sword. Across the counter, Caelus is dramatically pretending to faint as he eats a cookie you baked.

“It’s so good,” he gasps, flopping over a chair like a dying man. “I’m ascending Himeko, if I die, bury me with ten of these.”

You hit him with a dish towel. “Eat like a normal person.”

“I am! This is how Trailblazers eat. enjoying every second of this. Very cool.” You’re smiling so wide it hurts. The scene melts.

FLASH.

You and Dan Heng are leaning over a terminal together. He’s explaining star coordinates, but your attention keeps drifting. Not because you’re bored but because you’re waiting. Waiting for that familiar, goofy voice behind you. Sure enough.

“You’re cheating on me with star maps again?” Caelus says, mock offended.

“Jealous of numbers?” you tease, turning to him.

“I’m jealous of anything that takes your attention for more than thirty seconds.” Dan Heng clears his throat, but you swear he’s hiding a smile.

FLASH

It’s night. Or what passes for night on the train. You and Caelus are sitting on the edge by the door, legs dangling over the edge. Your heads are tilted toward the stars, shoulders touching.

No words. Just the sound of the universe breathing between you.

“I think I found home,” he whispers.

You blink. Look at him.

He doesn’t turn to you, but his hand finds yours in the dark.

“I think,” he continues, voice quieter now, “it’s not a place. I think it’s a person.”

“did you read that in a romance book?”

“shhhhh, you’re crazy you’re thinking too much. close your eyes and just embrace it”

You squeeze his hand back.

FLASH.

Battle. You’re bleeding. Something had gone wrong on a mission fight with a Fragmentum creature. You’re cornered, dizzy, staggering but then Caelus is there. Always.

He pulls you back against him, shielding your body with his own, teeth gritted, eyes wild with fear.

“I got you,” he pants. “Stay with me, okay? Just don’t go.”

You look up at him.

You smile.

“Like I’d leave you, dummy.”

FLASH.

You’re in the observation car, curled on one of the long benches. The stars are streaming by, casting the room in slow, celestial motion. Caelus walks in with two mugs and stops in his tracks when he sees you. You feign sleep. He sits beside you anyway. Then, softly, with that grin you’ve always hated because it makes your heart ache.

“I don’t know what I did in the past to deserve you,” he says, voice like a secret, “but I’d do it again. A thousand times.” Your heart clenches. Because something inside you remembers.

FLASH.

That ruined city. The fault zone. His face. You hear his voice again.

“I’ve seen you before. In dreams.”

“I think… I loved you, once.”

And for the first time, your consciousness stirs. The dreams fracture. Like mirrors catching too much light. The voice calling you back isn’t Kafka’s. It’s his.

Caelus.

You try to reach. To swim toward the sound. But something holds you back like the universe hasn’t decided if you’re ready to wake. Then, one final whisper reaches you. Not a memory. Not a dream. Just a feeling, laced in the warmth of amber eyes.

“Come back to me.”

You move.

There was no light when you first stirred just warmth. A soft hum beneath you. A scent in the air like metal and tea. And someone breathing. Slow, steady, near. Your eyelids fluttered open, lashes blinking against the low glow of the Astral Express’s medical bay. Everything felt strangely quiet thick, like sound and time had been layered under water. You blinked again. Once. Twice.

Then you saw him.

Slouched in a chair beside the bed, head tucked in his arms, was him. Caelus. He looked so much softer like this. Asleep, or maybe just resting his eyes. Hair slightly mussed, coat slipping off one shoulder, mouth slightly open like he had passed out mid thought. Your heart gave a small, traitorous flutter.

You whispered, “…Caelus?”

His head jerked up so fast you thought he might give himself whiplash. His amber eyes locked onto yours in an instant, and something shattered across his face. He bolted upright, nearly tripping over the chair in his scramble to get to your side.

“Hey hey! You’re awake! You’re actually awake! Not, like, fake half awake. Awake awake.” His hands hovered awkwardly over you, unsure if he was allowed to touch. “I Himeko said it could take a week, or a month, or uh, anyway, it’s been three days, and I’ve been sitting here the whole time and” You reached up and gently touched his wrist.

“I think…” you murmured, voice hoarse but steady, “I think I love you.” He froze like you’d physically unplugged his brain.

“W what?”

Your body ached, your throat still burned, and your thoughts swam like drifting stars but the feeling in your chest was real. Unmistakable. A tether that led back to him, no matter the timeline. You sat up slowly he instantly reached out to help you, like you might fall apart again and when you moved forward to hug him, his arms instinctively opened.

“Waitwaitwait!” He pulled back with sudden panic, palms bracing your shoulders like a human seatbelt. “Are you gonna kiss me again? Because the last time you did that, you passed out in my arms and scared me half to death. Not that it was a bad kiss honestly, it was amazing, I’m still recovering but I don’t want you to, like, die on me again. My heart can’t take it.” You stared at him. Then laughed. Softly. Genuinely.

Even now when he was clearly shaken, clearly not over what happened he was still him. A little weird. A little dramatic. A little too honest. It calmed you. Grounded you. You leaned in again slower this time and pressed your forehead against his.

“I’m not yours,” you said quietly. “Not the one you have ever met

He nodded, eyes dimming slightly. “Yeah. I figured.”

“But you…” You closed your eyes. “You’re not my Caelus either.”

A breath passed between you. And then, you whispered, “But I think… you’re still my home.”

His breath caught. He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at you, that chaotic, sincere expression melting into something gentler. Something he hadn’t let himself hope for.

Then, his hand brushed the side of your cheek tentative, reverent. And he smiled.

“…You really know how to knock a guy off his feet, huh?”

You leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’ve been doing it to me since before I even knew your name.”