Lemuen always got home before Exu. Her job at the Laterano Legal Office usually ended in the late afternoon, and she spent the rest of the day tidying up the house, watering the little plants on the balcony, or making warm tea while waiting for her little sister to return.
Today was no different.
But the air felt... just a little quieter.
When the front door opened, Exu's footsteps sounded normal—light, lazy, not at all like a girl who had just skipped class with the most notoriously unholy student in Laterano.
Lemuen turned from the kitchen, still wearing her white apron. "You're home."
"Yo," Exu replied, dropping her schoolbag by the door and flopping onto the sofa with a long sigh. "Long day."
Lemuen watched her. "You don't look physically tired."
"Spiritually drained," Exu muttered.
Lemuen wiped her hands and walked over, sitting on the chair across from her. Legs crossed. Calm face—but not quite relaxed.
"I heard something today."
Exu turned her head slowly. "Heard what?"
"From a friend of mine. She teaches on the second floor. Said she saw two middle-year students wandering around the back garden during class."
Exu shrugged. "The back garden's lovely. Should be used more often."
Lemuen didn't laugh. "One of them was a new student with a habit of giving funny answers in class."
"Sounds like an interesting person," Exu said, trying to smile.
"And the other was... Mostima."
That name dropped like ink into clear water. Not loud, but it spread instantly.
Lemuen looked straight at her. "Are you getting close to her?"
Exu didn't reply right away. She glanced toward the window. The evening breeze gently moved the curtain.
"She's funny," she said softly. "And... not boring."
Lemuen bit her lower lip for a moment, then spoke carefully. "Exu, I'm not telling you not to make friends. But Mostima... isn't an ordinary child."
"Neither am I," Exu cut in. Her voice was calm, but her eyes locked onto her sister's.
Lemuen fell silent.
"I know everyone says she's 'trouble' or 'rebellious' or whatever. But she's just..." Exu leaned back into the sofa, her wings spreading slightly in the cramped space. "...she just knows when to breathe."
Lemuen lowered her gaze. Her hands folded on her lap, fingers clasped tightly.
"If she pulls you toward... dangerous things—"
"She's teaching me how to say 'no' to things that don't make sense."
Lemuen stared at her for a long time. There was doubt in her eyes—not because she didn't trust Exu, but because she felt... left behind.
"I just don't want you to change too fast," she said at last.
"I'm not changing," Exu said, then smiled.
"I'm just growing."
That night, dinner was quieter than usual. Lemuen still spooned the soup. Exu still slowly cut her bread. But conversation stayed scarce.
After the meal, Exu sat in the living room, sketching something in a blank notebook. Lemuen came and sat on the floor beside her.
"What are you drawing?"
"Mostima's wings. But cartoon version."
Lemuen peeked. "Why do they look like scallions?"
"Because she's skinny and lazy."
Lemuen finally gave a small smile. "You really like her, don't you?"
Exu put down her pencil.
"I like anyone who makes me feel like I'm allowed to be myself."
Lemuen turned slowly. Her eyes darkened for a moment, then she whispered:
"What if I'm... not one of those people?"
Exu blinked, then exhaled.
"Lem... if I can lean on you and fall asleep, and my nightmares go away...
That's not just being myself.
That's home."