A Deal

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As I calmed down, the surge of emotions inside me finally began to fade away.

I felt my mind steady, the storm inside me calming to a quiet ripple. My laughter slowed, falling into a silence that seemed louder than any noise.

It had been a long time since I had been happy... this happy-

I wasn't weighed down by bitterness or regret. No. I just felt happy.

Genuinely happy.

A grin tugged at my lips, uncalled for but welcome.

I couldn't help it.

The years of frustration and despair had lifted, leaving behind a feeling I'd never known.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd smiled without it feeling forced, but now, I just couldn't stop smiling.

I was drenched.

Glancing down at myself, I realized that my clothes were stuck to my skin, clinging awkwardly from whatever bizarre ritual I'd just completed.

The water, or whatever that pale liquid was, had soaked through everything. 

"Ugh," I groaned, pulling the damp fabric from my chest. "I can't stay like this."

I tried my best to not spoil the wooden floor than it already was by walking slowly.

When I reached the mirror, I hesitated, looking at my reflection.

What I saw left me speechless.

Gone was the frail, unimpressive figure I'd grown used to.

My once-pale skin now seemed to radiate a subtle vitality, and my muscles, which were already developed only grew more pronounced, lean and defined.

I ran a hand over my abdomen, tracing the faint outline of the spiral tattoo that covered my skin.

It was intricate, almost hypnotic in its design, and it pulsed faintly, like it had a life of its own.

I couldn't help but grin again, this time with a sense of pride.

"So... this is what power feels like," 

My thoughts drifted to the Book of Sin and everything it had promised.

If what it said was true, I now could summon water capable of devouring and dissolving anything in its path.

It was terrifying, but at the same time, it felt amazing.

I couldn't wait to test it.

For a moment, I completely forgot about everything else.

None of it mattered right now.

All I could think about was what I could do, what I could become.

I stepped back from the mirror, removing the rest of my soaked clothes.

As I dried off and grabbed a fresh set of clothings, I felt a renewed sense of purpose.

Everything seemed sharper, more vivid—the colors, the textures, even the faint hum of life outside the bathroom window.

When I opened my bedroom door, something unexpected caught my eye. A small plate sat neatly on the floor, covered with a napkin.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the familiar handwriting on the note placed beside it.

"Love, Grandma."

I bent down to pick it up, uncovering the plate to reveal a stack of fruit buns.

They were slightly warm, just the way I liked them; their sweet scent filled the walls.

For a moment, me awakening my physique and becoming a totally overpowered person did not matter.

My chest tightened, but not with sorrow or regret. It was something else entirely—gratitude.

Grandma always had a way of grounding me, of reminding me of the little things that truly mattered.

Even after everything I'd just been through, these simple gestures felt like the most important thing in the world.

I chuckled softly, shaking my head as I took the plate inside.

"Thanks, Grandma," I whispered, a genuine smile on my face.

I sat on the edge of my bed, taking a bite of one of the buns.

The sweetness melted on my tongue, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the peace.

The power coursing through me was incredible, yes, but this—this was home. And I wasn't going to lose sight of that, no matter how strong I became.

I took another bite, savouring the sweetness that filled my mouth.

Grandma's touch was unmistakable—the soft, airy texture and the slight tartness from the bits of fruit made it perfect.

I didn't even know when the first bite turned into a second, and then a third and before I knew it, I'd devoured the entire first bun.

Reaching for another, I chuckled. "Guess I was hungrier than I thought."

The second bun was different—honey-glazed with a hint of cinnamon. The rich, warm flavour felt like a hug, comforting and nostalgic.

Bite after bite, I couldn't stop until it too was gone.

The third bun had a crisp layer of sugar on top, crackling under my teeth with every bite. It was slightly tangy, with a burst of lemon zest hidden in its layers.

As I finished the last of the crumbs, a satisfied sigh escaped me as I glanced glancing toward the note again.

Oh god.

I loved her so fucking much-

hehehe

But then, something odd hit me.

I'd opened the door earlier quite loudly—loud enough that Ma should've heard me.

She always did.

Her voice would usually follow moments like these, teasing me or nagging about slamming doors.

She wasn't exactly subtle with her extroverted antics and tendency to fill every quiet moment with chatter.

Yet, there hadn't been a single word.

The realization sank in slowly, like ice spreading through my veins.

I stilled, the room around me suddenly feeling too quiet. Too still.

The kind of silence that didn't belong here.

I swallowed hard, the remnants of the third bun sticking uncomfortably as if my body was refusing to accept it.

"Ma?" I called out, my voice cutting through the silence. It sounded far too loud in the stillness.

No reply.

A sinking feeling settled in my gut, and I tried again, louder this time. "Ma? You there?"

Nothing.

The silence seemed to stretch, oppressive and unnatural. My chest tightened as panic began to creep in.

She was always loud, always bustling about. This wasn't like her.

"Ma!" I yelled, my voice shaking now.

Still nothing.

I bolted from my room, my heart hammering in my chest.

The stairs blurred under my feet as I rushed down them, fear gnawing at me with every passing second.

"Ma? Grandma?!" I called out, my voice trembling.

Again.

No reply?

There, sitting on our old, worn couch, was a figure clad in black.

He was calm, disturbingly, with his hood pulled low over his face.

His presence was utterly out of place in our modest home, like a shadow that had lost its way.

I couldn't see his eyes, but I could feel them on me, cold and calculating. He didn't move, didn't even flinch at my sudden appearance. He just sat there, as if he owned the room.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, my voice harsher than I intended as I stood in right opposite to him.

My black eyes were practically glaring at him.

The man gave me no reaction.

I saw his hood shifting just enough for me to catch a glimpse of a smirk playing on his lips.

"Let's make a deal... shall we?" 

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A/N:

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