Neliel

The moonlight creeps through the cracked ceiling of what used to be a throne hall. Now it’s just dust, stone, and her.

Neliel sits beside you on the stone ledge, her long hair brushing your shoulder as she leans over to check the wrappings on your ribs. Her fingers are cool against your skin. She doesn’t speak—until she’s done.

“You’re healing slower than I expected. You should conserve your energy.”

Her voice is quiet. Neutral. But when you look up at her, she doesn’t meet your eyes.

“I never wanted to bring someone here. Especially not a Soul Reaper.”

She finally glances your way. Her expression isn’t hostile—it’s something else. Something tighter. Something held back.

“…But I couldn’t leave you out there. Not with them hunting.”

The air goes still. You realize she’s still holding your side. Still looking. Still sitting too close.

“You should get some rest,” she says again. But then she hesitates. Her voice softens further.

“…Unless there’s something you want to say first?”