clashing souls

The tension had been building for days, something that both Kikidori and Ere'ana felt creeping between them like a storm on the horizon. It was inevitable. After all, he was a demon and she was an angel—two beings that were never meant to coexist in harmony for too long. But despite the moments of tenderness and the quiet understanding that passed between them, reality was starting to rear its ugly head.

Today, that reality hit hard.

They were sitting together on the roof of their usual building in the human world, overlooking the city as the sun began to set. The golden light cast long shadows, and the cool evening breeze stirred their hair. Kikidori was leaning back, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Ere'ana sat beside him, her halo glowing faintly in the fading light, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

"I don't get it," Ere'ana muttered, breaking the silence. "Why are we just sitting here while everything is about to explode again?"

Kikidori didn't even flinch at her words. He knew exactly what she was talking about. The war was coming. Heaven and Hell were once again on the brink of all-out chaos, and it felt like there was no stopping it this time.

"I don't get it either," Kikidori replied, his voice low, tinged with frustration. "But I'm not stupid enough to think it's going to be any different than before."

Ere'ana's eyes narrowed, her tone sharp as she turned to face him. "You're just giving up? That's it?"

Kikidori shrugged, his wings twitching behind him. "I'm not giving up. I'm just... realistic. The angels are going to try to wipe us out, and we're going to fight back. That's how it's always been."

Ere'ana's eyes glinted with anger. "That's not how it has to be, Kikidori. We can stop it! There has to be another way—"

"Away?" Kikidori interrupted, his voice rising. "What do you think we're supposed to do? Hold hands and sing kumbaya? You're an angel, Ere'ana. You're supposed to protect Heaven, and I'm a demon. I'm supposed to bring chaos. We're not supposed to get along."

The words hit Ere'ana like a slap to the face. She stood up quickly, her wings flaring out in a burst of golden light. "Stop saying that. Just because we're different doesn't mean we have to be enemies. I'm not asking you to stop being who you are, but we can try to be better than this!"

Kikidori stood up too, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "I never asked you to change. I'm not the one pretending that we can rewrite the laws of the universe, Ere'ana. You're the one with your head in the clouds, thinking we can all just get along."

Ere'ana took a step toward him, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "This is what I mean, Kikidori. You act like there's no hope. Like everything is just fated to end in violence. But we have choices. We have the power to change things."

Kikidori's eyes hardened as he took a step back, his wings shifting behind him. "You don't understand. It's not just about us. Heaven and Hell have been at war for millennia. It's too late to stop it now. If you don't get that, maybe you're the one who doesn't understand."

Ere'ana's expression faltered, hurt flashing in her eyes. But she quickly masked it with frustration. "You're so damn stubborn. You always think that because it's the way things have been, that's how it always has to be. But we're not just demons and angels—we're individuals. We have choices."

Kikidori threw his hands up in frustration. "Choices? What do you want me to do? I can't just turn off being a demon, Ere'ana. I can't suddenly start thinking like you. We're on opposite sides, and no amount of your pretty speeches is going to change that."

The words stung, more than he realized. Ere'ana's face softened for a brief moment, but it quickly hardened again. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we can't be the same. But that doesn't mean I'm going to give up on you, Kikidori. I don't care if you're a demon. I care about you. But you keep pushing me away, telling me it's pointless to try, and I'm tired of it."

Kikidori's eyes darkened. His heart ached, but he pushed it aside, the sharp edge of anger too close to the surface. "I'm not pushing you away. I'm protecting you. You have no idea what it's like in Hell. You think you can just walk in there and change everything, but it doesn't work that way."

"And you think I'm some naïve angel who doesn't get it?" Ere'ana shot back, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and frustration. "I know Hell. I've seen it. I've watched everything burn down. I know how brutal it is. But I don't want to be like that. I want to find a better way."

Kikidori stared at her, the intensity of their argument making the air around them crackle with tension. There was a silence that stretched between them, a silence that felt heavier than the words they had exchanged.

Finally, Kikidori spoke, his voice softer, but still filled with that undercurrent of anger. "You don't understand. You can't. You don't know what it's like to have your entire existence defined by war. I'm not saying I can't change. I'm just saying that it's not that simple."

Ere'ana's expression softened, but her resolve didn't waver. "No, you're right. I don't understand. But that doesn't mean I won't try. I'm not giving up on you, Kikidori. Even if it means facing Heaven and Hell."

The words lingered in the air, a promise she wasn't ready to break. But Kikidori was still uncertain, still unsure if there was any hope for change.

Ere'ana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't care if we're demons and angels. I care about what we can do, Kikidori. Together."

The silence between them was heavy. Kikidori didn't know what to say. He didn't want to admit it, but maybe, just maybe, she was right. Maybe there was something between them that could transcend the eternal war between Heaven and Hell. But for now, the weight of his reality still clung to him, and he wasn't sure he was ready to change.

"Just don't expect me to be the hero, Ere'ana," Kikidori said quietly. "I'm not that kind of guy."

Ere'ana's eyes softened. "I never asked you to be. I just want you to try."

And with that, the argument ended—not with resolution, but with a faint flicker of understanding. A fragile bridge between two souls, caught between the fires of Heaven and Hell.

The end of Chapter 14