In the end—neither of them backed down.
One sentence turned into two. Two turned into sarcasm. And before they even fully realized it—everything was already too late.
The first punch came without warning.
Even Miles wasn’t sure exactly when his fist moved. All he knew—Caramella’s jaw had already taken the hit.
Thud.
Silence lasted only for a fraction of a second.
Then—the retaliation came. Caramella didn’t hold back.
Miles’s body was shoved backward. His back slammed into the table with a loud crash. A cup fell. Shattered. Cold tea spilled across the floor.
“Tch… finally,” Miles muttered as he wiped the blood from the corner of his lips. His breathing was heavy. His eyes narrowed sharply. “Why didn’t you show your true self from the start?”
Caramella let out a quiet laugh. Their tone was condescending.
“Oh? Because I felt sorry for you.”
They stepped closer. Calm. Unhurried.
“Even when you look ‘normal,’ you’re already this weak,” they continued coldly. “That’s honestly pathetic.”
Another shove. Miles fell. His arm was caught—then twisted. Pain shot through him instantly. Who would’ve thought Caramella had such terrifying strength hidden beneath the surface?
“—ugh!”
For a moment, Miles genuinely thought his arm was going to break.
And at that point—he realized.
Caramella wasn’t playing around.
The person he had always seen as talkative, annoying, and meddlesome—was far stronger than he had ever imagined. The complete opposite of their behavior, which might have seemed feminine all this time. In reality, their strength was… unsettling.
Not just physically.
But also… the pressure they carried.
Miles grimaced. But instead of backing down—he let out a small laugh.
“…Interesting,” he murmured.
And the fight continued.
Punches traded. Bodies shoved. No elegant technique. Just raw emotion finally finding an outlet.
Miles—who, for most of his life, had rarely been involved in physical fights—even realized this was what it felt like to clash in raw dominance.
And on top of that, he was fighting someone he had always considered family. His friend.
For the first time—they truly collided.
Not as friends.
But as two people refusing to lose.
Caramella grabbed Miles by the collar and hurled him with full force.
“You’re weak… truly pathetic,” they mocked.
Miles let out a low chuckle. His body ached, but somehow—he felt something strange. A surge of energy he had rarely felt in his life.
Adrenaline.
Somewhere else—
Brielle let out a long sigh.
“I’m so tired…”
She leaned back into her chair. Today should have ended normally. But for some reason, her mind felt full.
And as usual—someone arrived without making much sound.
“You look worn out.”
Brielle didn’t need to turn. She already knew who it was.
“Sandalphon,” she muttered lazily. “Ah, sorry… I guess I shouldn’t call you by your real name, right? Chanson, hi—how are you?”
In front of her, the figure smiled lightly. Today, they appeared as a woman. Long, neat hair. A calm aura that was hard to describe.
Chanson.
A being that didn’t even truly have a fixed form.
“Either one is fine,” they replied casually.
Brielle let out a small chuckle. Such a modern angel, she thought.
Back then—around 1348, when the Black Death spread—she had never imagined she’d befriend a being like this.
At that time, the world was in chaos. Witches were hunted. People died in the streets. And in the middle of all that—she found an angel… with a headache.
Ironic.
But that was where everything began.
“So?” Chanson asked gently. “What’s making you look like this?”
Brielle didn’t answer right away. But eventually—she sighed.
“I’m being disturbed,” she said honestly. “A Grim Reaper.”
Chanson frowned slightly.
“Name?”
“…Vide.”
Silence for a moment.
Chanson’s expression shifted faintly. Not drastic. But noticeable.
“…I think I’ve heard that name before,” they murmured.
Brielle looked at them.
“Seriously?”
Chanson nodded slowly.
“Not clearly. But… they’re not an ordinary being.”
Brielle clicked her tongue softly.
“They offered me a new body,” she continued. “And I don’t like the way they play.”
Chanson fell silent for a moment, as if weighing something.
“I can look into it,” they finally said. “But as you know, I can’t interfere too much.”
“Because of those ‘rules’?” Brielle said with a hint of sarcasm.
Chanson only gave a small smile.
Brielle sighed. Then stood up. Walked closer. And hugged them warmly.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “That’s more than enough.”
Meanwhile, back at Miles’s house—the place was a mess.
Chairs tilted. Tables shifted. The floor in disarray.
And in the middle of it—
Crying.
“Stop…!”
Gingger’s voice broke. Her small body stood between them. Her hands trembled. Her eyes were filled with tears.
Miles froze.
So did Caramella.
That cry—was too innocent. Too honest. Too… out of place in the middle of this chaos.
And it was enough.
Both of them stepped back. Their breathing was still heavy. Their emotions hadn’t fully settled. But they stopped.
They truly stopped.
A few moments later—
They sat on the couch. Not too far apart. But far enough to feel… different.
Miles held a bandage, roughly wrapping his own arm. Caramella did the same. Without much conversation.
Between them—Gingger sat quietly. Occasionally wiping her tears.
“…I can help,” she said softly.
Miles immediately shook his head.
“No need.”
Caramella refused as well, more gently.
“Just rest.”
Silence.
But not a comfortable one.
In between it, Miles still muttered under his breath, “Annoying,” he grumbled quietly.
Caramella responded without even looking at him. “Better than being weak and full of attitude.”
“Your mouth—”
“Quiet.”
Silence again.
Gingger sniffled softly.
And instantly—
Both of them went quiet.
Completely quiet.
Neither dared to speak again.
Because for the first time—
They realized.
What just happened… wasn’t just an ordinary argument.
Something… had begun to crack.
And that crack—
Wouldn’t be easy to fix.