Sunny paced the length of his living room, checking his communicator for the fifth time in three minutes.
It was a simple matter. Cielle could not step outside wearing the clothes she possessed, sunny did not know how she even lives in the academy. Even if she somehow ignored the biting autumn wind, the sheer indignity of her parading through the city looking like she had just rolled out of his bed was enough to make Sunny want to walk into the ocean and stay there. The rumors would destroy whatever remained of their reputation.
He had considered calling Effie for clothes, but he possessed at least an ounce of self-preservation. If Effie found out about cielle she would tease him so relentlessly he would have to change his True Name and flee to a different continent.
So, he had called Aiko.
The doorbell rang, Sunny rushed to the door, throwing it open.
Aiko stood on the porch, a large, heavy duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She looked up at him, her expression a mix of professionalism and deep, lingering annoyance. "I brought the civilian clothes you requested, Boss. Though why you need a female wardrobe delivered to your private residence at—"
Aiko stopped dead.
Cielle had just wandered into the hallway behind Sunny. She was still holding a half-eaten piece of bacon, her bare legs padding softly against the hardwood. The massive, pristine white wings on her back were folded neatly, but they still took up a considerable amount of space. She stopped, blinking slowly at the newcomer, her face completely blank.
Aiko's eyes widened to the size of saucers. She looked at Cielle. She looked at the shirt. She looked at Sunny.
Slowly, an expression of profound, soul-deep disgust settled over Aiko's features.
"Sunless," Aiko whispered, clutching her duffel bag protectively against her chest. "I respected you. I thought you were a ruthless capitalist who only cared about profit. I didn't know you were a degenerate."
"I am a ruthless capitalist!" Sunny hissed, his face instantly burning a violent shade of red. "It is not what it looks like! She is a... we work together! I am just providing support!"
Cielle, entirely unfazed by the sudden tension, took another bite of bacon. She stared down at Aiko, tilting her head to the side, studying her for a long moment. Then, with her usual, devastating bluntness, she delivered her assessment.
"You are very small," Cielle stated flatly.
Aiko blinked, her disgust instantly replaced by sputtering outrage. "Excuse me?"
"Your reach is too short for a fight," Cielle continued, completely oblivious to the rising fury in the greedy girl's eyes. "But you are small enough to hide in the rubble when things collapse. Or crawl through air vents. That is a good trait."
Aiko's face flushed with pure anger. She dropped the duffel bag with a heavy thud, rolling up her sleeves, looking ready to throw hands with someone twice her size. "Listen here, you oversized pigeon, I don't care whose shirt you're wearing, I'll put you in the—"
"Aiko!" Sunny grabbed her shoulders, frantically stepping between them. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a massive headache forming right behind his eyes. "Aiko, please. Do not start a fight with her. She is the one who brought in those ascended soul shards for the Emporium last week."
Aiko froze.
Her raised fists slowly lowered. Her eyes flicked from Sunny to Cielle. In Aiko's mind, a rapid, invisible calculation was taking place. Ascended shards. A constant supply of high-tier monster material. This girl was a walking gold mine.
The anger vanished completely. Like flipping a switch, Aiko's face transformed into a beaming, terrifyingly radiant smile.
"Boss!" Aiko practically shouted. She lunged past Sunny, grabbing both of Cielle's hands and vigorously shaking them. "It is an absolute honor to meet you! You're right, I am very small! Perfect for dodging taxes and slipping under the radar! You just keep bringing in those shards, and I'll crawl through any air vent you need me to!"
Cielle looked at Aiko's enthusiastic shaking, then looked over at Sunny, her expression mildly confused but accepting. "She is loud," Cielle noted. "But I like her energy. It is very straightforward."
"She is motivated by greed," Sunny sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Just... please, Aiko. Find her something to wear so we can leave this house."
"Leave it to me, Boss! I will make your date a goddess! Mark my words" Aiko declared, dragging the heavy duffel bag into the living room.
For the next twenty minutes, Sunny was exiled to the kitchen. He sat on the counter, listening to the muffled sounds of Aiko digging through clothes and muttering to herself.
In the living room, Aiko was currently experiencing a massive reality check. She had brought a variety of civilian clothes, thinking she was just dressing one of Sunny's eccentric friends. But as Cielle casually dropped Sunny's shirt to try on a sweater, Aiko finally got a good look at her.
It wasn't just the sheer, terrifying majesty of the wings. It was the scars. The pale skin of Cielle's back, right where the wings met her spine, was marred by a network of jagged, silvery lines. They were old, methodical, and brutal.
Aiko swallowed hard, her smile faltering for a fraction of a second. She had grown up in the outskirts. She knew what people looked like when they had been treated like property instead of human beings. She suddenly understood exactly why Sunny, who was usually paranoid to a fault, was letting this girl sleep on his couch and wear his clothes. He wasn't being a degenerate. He was hiding her.
"The wings are tricky," Aiko said, her voice noticeably softer, losing some of its loud, brassy edge. She pulled out a soft, oversized dark green jacket. "Normal Waking World fashion doesn't account for... well, you. Turn around. Let me modify this."
Cielle turned. Aiko took a pair of small shears from her kit and expertly cut two seamless slits down the back of the jacket. She helped Cielle guide her wings through the openings.
Cielle did a little shimmy, testing the fabric against her skin. A tiny, rare smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"It is acceptable," Cielle announced softly, running a hand over the sleeve. She looked at Aiko, her green eyes bright. "The fabric is soft. It does not bite like the armor. Thank you, small person."
Aiko grinned, though it was genuine this time. "You're welcome, Boss. Now go out there and show Sunless how to actually spend some of his money."
When they emerged from the living room, Sunny let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Cielle was wearing dark, fitted cargo pants and a modified green jacket. The wings rested comfortably outside the fabric without restricting her movement or ruining the silhouette.
"Good," Sunny muttered, a quiet relief washing over him. The Waking World was full of sharp, abrasive things. Knowing she was comfortable felt like a massive victory. "You look normal. Well, as normal as you can look. Let's go."
***
The plan was simple. Take the public rail from the residential sector to the central commercial district, watch the movie in the VIP booth, and come back.
However, Sunny had profoundly underestimated the sheer sensory assault of the city center on a weekend.
They boarded the train. It was packed. The air was thick with the smell of coffee, cheap perfumes, and the collective body heat of a hundred commuters. Lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh glare across the carriage.
Sunny stood near the doors, holding onto an overhead rail. He glanced down at Cielle.
She was not doing well.
Cielle was standing perfectly still, but it wasn't the relaxed stillness he knew, It was rigid, like an animal caught in a trap. Her wings were twitching nervously against the slits in her jacket, the stares didn't help. The screech of the train against the rails, the overlapping murmurs of a dozen conversations, the blinding lights flashing past the windows, it was a cacophony of input, and all of it was grating against her.
Her green eyes were slightly glazed over. She had gone somewhere else in her head, mentally detaching herself from her own body just to survive the noise and the strangers.
Sunny's heart gave a painful, violent twist. He didn't need to know the exact mechanics of what she was feeling to recognize that she was drowning.
Without a second thought, Sunny moved.
He stepped directly in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders and firmly pulling her into the corner of the carriage, away from the aisle. He planted his hands against the wall on either side of her head, effectively boxing her in and shielding her from the rest of the train with his own body.
He didn't stop there. He commanded his shadows.
The gloomy shadow slithered out from under his boots, creeping up the walls and the window beside them. It thickened the ambient darkness, dimming the harsh glare. The happy shadow curled around their feet, creating a subtle, localized dampening effect that swallowed the sharpest, most grating screeches of the train.
Suddenly, the world went quiet.
Cielle blinked. The overwhelming barrage of noise and light faded into a muffled, distant hum. She looked up.
Sunny was standing over her, his eyes narrowed in a fierce, unyielding glare directed at anyone on the train who dared to look in their direction. He was radiating pure, territorial hostility toward the crowd, acting as an impenetrable physical and visual barrier.
And underneath that, he smelled like his house. A faint trace of rain, dark wood, and breakfast. It was the only scent in the carriage that didn't feel bad. It was quiet. It was safe.
Cielle let out a long, shaky breath. Without a single word, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead directly into the center of Sunny's chest. She wrapped her hands loosely around the fabric of his shirt, holding herself to the only solid thing in the room.
Sunny froze. His heart slammed against his ribs with the force of a battering ram. Every muscle in his body locked tight.
He looked down at the top of her head resting against him. Her wings gave a soft, relaxed flutter behind her back, the tension bleeding out of her shoulders. Sunny knew she didn't understand what this looked like to the rest of the train. She just needed a place to hide, and she had chosen him.
His gloomy shadow, perched on the wall, slowly gave him a respectful nod.
Sunny swallowed hard. He didn't pull away. He didn't make a snarky comment about personal space. He just adjusted his stance, planting his feet firmer on the floor of the train, and carefully rested his chin near the top of her head.
'I am just keeping her calm,' Sunny told himself desperately, his face burning as the train rattled along the tracks. 'Just making sure she doesn't break anyone's arm out of stress. That is all.'
But as he glared at a businessman who had glanced in their direction, daring the man to say a single word, Sunny knew exactly who he was lying to.