Chapter 112
He, neither god nor human, had lived a half-life for a long time. Even when working as a young lady’s servant, or when using the alias Jade Lannon, he always felt hollow, as if only a shell remained.
No matter how convincingly he acted like a person of this era, he had never spent leisure time like a true contemporary. He was a lonely stranger from the modern world.
“Let’s start with our clothes.”
For him, Noxia Decan was giving him, for the first time, a chance to personally experience ordinary pleasures of this era.
Noxia took Promeon’s hand and walked toward the department store. Once again, it was her who reached out first, not him. The fact made a flutter rise in his chest.
Even though it was a weekday morning, the department store was packed. On a weekend, it would have been far noisier.
“Does the crowd bother you? Should we go somewhere else?”
“No, it’s fine. I like it here too.”
When Noxia asked for his opinion, Promeon smiled gently in response. It was not a forced smile.
“We decided to spend today following your wishes, didn’t we?”
“You don’t have to force yourself. If it’s fun that comes from someone’s sacrifice, it loses its meaning.”
“It’s not a sacrifice. Just being here with you like this makes me happy. Truly.”
“…Alright, if you’re okay with it.”
Noxia decided to set aside her uneasy feelings. She didn’t want to waste time bickering with him over trivial stubbornness when his face was so gentle.
“Shall we start with women’s clothing?”
“Of course. We can just look at the women’s section.”
“…You’ve never come to a department store to buy clothes, have you?”
“No.”
Noxia didn’t press him about where he had gotten all the clothes he had worn until now. Even when they lived alone by the seaside, he had always managed to obtain the items he needed in ways no ordinary person could explain.
“If it’s boring, tell me right away. As I said earlier, you don’t have to force yourself to follow me.”
“Alright.”
Noxia headed up to the floor selling women’s clothing. She felt lighthearted, thinking they wouldn’t actually buy anything.
“This one, and this one, and this one… oh, this dress too.”
“You’re going to buy all of these?”
“No, I said we wouldn’t actually buy them. I just want to try them on occasionally.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s fun, isn’t it?”
It was a game she had sometimes played with Karnen. They couldn’t actually buy every outfit they tried, but trying on pretty clothes and seeing themselves in the mirror was entertaining.
Seeing Promeon’s expression, clearly puzzled by why it was fun, Noxia snickered. She said brightly,
“I won’t make you try them on. Just tell me what you think when you see me wearing them, alright?”
“Got it.”
Promeon promised. Noxia soon picked out a bundle of clothes and went into the fitting room.
“Ta-da. How’s this?”
A little later, she reappeared in front of Promeon in a changed outfit. He focused on the role with more seriousness than anyone else.
“That neckline is too low. Wearing it in cold weather could easily give you a cold.”
Or:
“The lace on this is too long. Wouldn’t it be uncomfortable when you move your arms?”
Or:
“The color is too dull.”
And so on. His evaluations were always specific and varied.
“…Can’t you just say it looks nice? Does every outfit have to be criticized in detail like this?”
As Promeon solemnly criticized each outfit she tried on with a serious face, Noxia clicked her tongue in disbelief. Promeon, in turn, looked slightly embarrassed.
“So you wanted me to take out all honesty and just say flattering things?”
“No, how twisted do you have to be to think that…? It’s not like we’re actually buying anything. Hearing that something looks nice or suits me makes me happy.”
Pouting, Noxia opened the fitting room door again to change. But before she could turn, Promeon spoke earnestly:
“You look beautiful, Noxia. It suits you.”
Noxia froze. When she turned, half-doubting her ears, he greeted her with a soft smile, as if he had never been so picky about clothes.
“Was this what you wanted to hear?”
His long, curved eyes were mischievous. Noxia couldn’t help but relax her gaze and laugh.
“See, if you set your mind to it, you’re just as good at flattery as anyone.”
“It’s not flattery. You really look beautiful, Noxia.”
Instead of replying, Noxia just quietly smiled. Then, before he could add anything, she went into the fitting room and closed the door.
Once separated from Promeon, the smile disappeared from Noxia’s face. She recalled what he had just said with a quietly sinking expression.
‘Now he calls me Noxia…’
Since last autumn, he had steadfastly called her Hermane. Now, as if resigned to something, he was using her current-life name.
‘…Both of us have changed.’
A few days ago, before returning to Elenon, if she had stood before him while he kindly said she looked pretty, she would have melted like sugar in water.
But now, Noxia’s face showed no blush. The reflection in the mirror was calm and pale.
Even though such a beautiful man whispered such sweet words, what she felt was not excitement, but deep sorrow.
She hurriedly changed back into her original clothes, adjusted her expression to a smiling face, and came out.
“I think we’ve seen all the clothes. Let’s go to another floor.”
Next, Noxia explored the kitchenware floor, enjoying the small amusement of looking at tools she would never actually buy.
Huge, gleaming pots and pans, delicate tea sets made of fine porcelain, ovens for barbecue parties—too extravagant for a frugal young girl living alone.
Still, letting her imagination run wild was fun. She picked out tableware half in jest, imagining that if she ever won the lottery, she’d move into a mansion with a garden.
“Who knows? Maybe I’ll really become rich someday. Then I could hang pots in the kitchen like in my old house.”
“Your old house?”
As Noxia chatted, Promeon tilted his head in confusion. After leaving the orphanage, she had always lived in a small three-room apartment. When had she lived in a house with a huge kitchen?
‘Ah.’
Pale drained his face as he realized the truth. He had been obediently following Noxia but stopped dead in his tracks.
The “old days” she mentioned weren’t this life. She meant her previous life as the daughter of a noble family. In that life, she had truly lived in a palace-like mansion.
And at the end of that life, she had taken her own life.
Noxia looked at Promeon, who had turned marble-like. At first, confusion passed through her eyes, followed by pity, compassion, and guilt.
“I’m okay now, Promeon.”
Noxia whispered. Now, even recalling her tragically ended past life didn’t cause her pain. The wound had healed enough that she could mention it casually without worry.
“So I hope you’re okay too.”
She said this gently. Promeon avoided her gaze without replying.
After that, their department store tour lost its initial excitement. Noxia walked a little more listlessly, then suggested in a kind voice:
“Shall we have lunch now?”
It happened to be lunchtime. As expected, time flew while they were out. Noxia and Promeon left the department store together.
“Do you want anything in particular?”
Noxia asked, considerate of him who didn’t feel hunger but could enjoy taste, yet Promeon answered without much enthusiasm.
“Anything’s fine.”
So Noxia chose according to her own taste. She led Promeon to a nearby restaurant specializing in chicken dishes.
“The grilled chicken here is really good. The portions are generous too.”
It was a place she frequented, but unlike a small sandwich shop, it was a large restaurant, so she didn’t know the owner personally.
Thankfully. If Promeon had looked at the owner with pitiful eyes, as if she had forgotten him again, he might have felt self-reproach and run away from this world.
He, who had once acted as if he had forgotten what regret was, now often showed signs of guilt.
Had he finally remembered how to repent? Or was even this acting?
Noxia thought that perhaps the past nine months they had spent together gradually reminded him of human joys and sorrows he had long forgotten.
A being who, wandering alone for too long in a cursed immortality, had forgotten what it meant to love someone normally, and how to maintain peaceful relationships.
His obsession had been nothing short of a disaster for Hermane’s soul resting in paradise and the young lady of her previous life.
For a long time, Promeon hadn’t realized this. Or, if he did, he had ignored it.
Now, like an ordinary young man of this era, he sat across from the person he loved in a restaurant. Passersby walked outside, and the weather was clear. It was a calm, ordinary day.
“You’re going to order too, right? We each have to order one thing anyway.”
Across from him, Noxia explained. Promeon nodded slowly.
“Alright, I’ll order too.”
The food, recommended confidently by Noxia, was excellent in both quality and quantity.
They both ate and drank until full. Even Promeon, who didn’t actually get hungry, felt psychologically satisfied.
Afterwards, following Noxia’s belief that a proper date requires dessert and drinks after a meal, they went to a nearby tea shop to share sweet cakes.
Time continued to flow smoothly. Noxia guided the day along an ordinary date course, and Promeon followed her lead, keeping his promise.
They walked through a park, stopped by a stationery store to look at items they wouldn’t buy, and bought hearty street snacks.
Before long, a soft orange hue spread across the western horizon. The day was ending; the time was approaching.
‘Should I suggest dinner now? I’m not really hungry after the snack…’
Noxia glanced at the clock tower in the square, lost in thought. But Promeon had a different plan. Looking at Noxia, he said gently:
“It’s about time we head home, Noxia.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll take you home.”
