The skies over Laterano were never truly dark. Even at dusk, when the sun dipped behind the towers and left only golden traces of light, the city remained bright—calm, clean, and far too perfect.
But from Fiammetta's point of view, there was always one place that felt a little... crooked in this orderly world: the back garden behind the school.
It wasn't exactly a garden. More like a leftover patch of land no one bothered to tidy up. A wobbly bench, overgrown wildflowers, and an awkward silence made it feel like a hidden world.
And that was where Exusiai usually sat after class—with Mostima.
Fiammetta watched them from a second-floor window.
She wasn't spying. Not really. Just observing.
Her hand still held a notebook, but not a single word had been written for the past ten minutes.
Exu laughed softly. Mostima replied with her usual crooked smile, lazy and carefree.
They were always together.
And Fiammetta—though she hated to admit it—was always alone.
She wasn't jealous. Not exactly.
But she did feel it—the quiet exclusion. Like there was a small circle between the two of them, and only they had the key to enter.
Sometimes, she wondered—was it because she wasn't a Sankta?
She had no halo above her head. No wings, either. Her body belonged to a Liberi: lean, warm, and different. She had never thought that was a problem... until she saw how naturally Exu and Mostima touched each other's wings, rested heads on shoulders, moved like their bodies simply understood one another.
Fiammetta looked away.
She wasn't the clingy type. She knew how to stay independent, to keep distance, to follow rules.
But ever since Exu sat in that backseat and started calling her "Fi" with that casual tone—no honorifics, no formality—she couldn't stop herself from coming closer.
Exu had a strange power:
She made people want to speak.
And stranger still... made people want to be heard.
"Fiammetta?"
The voice came from behind. A teacher stood at the classroom door.
"Still here?"
Fiammetta stood quickly. "Just finishing some notes, ma'am."
The teacher nodded, not pressing further. But before she left, she added—
"Could you pass a message to Exusiai? Tell her she doesn't need to worry about last week's report. The headmaster accepted the clarification."
Fiammetta froze for a second.
"I'll let her know."
By the time Fiammetta stepped outside, Exu and Mostima were still there.
Mostima was drawing something on the ground with a stick. Exu lay half-slouched beside her, watching.
Fiammetta hesitated, then walked toward them.
"What's that?" she asked, skipping the small talk.
Mostima looked up. "Eh? Ah. A forbidden symbol that opens a gateway to the underworld."
Exu laughed. "It's just a circle with an eye in the middle."
"It's the Eye of Inner Truth," Mostima replied dramatically.
Fiammetta sat on the edge of the bench. "The teacher said to tell you—your report's fine. No need to worry anymore."
Exu blinked. "Wait, really?"
Fiammetta nodded.
"You're the best, Fi!" Exu beamed, giving her a light tap on the arm.
It was a short touch. But Fiammetta's heartbeat skipped, just a bit.
"Relax," she muttered, quickly looking down.
Mostima glanced sideways at her, then went back to doodling.
"Well then," Mostima said with a soft grin, "today is officially burden-free. Let's celebrate."
"Celebrate?" Exu raised an eyebrow.
"We take the long way home. Through the market. Maybe grab some sweets."
Fiammetta looked at them. "That's not the usual route."
"That's the point," Exu replied. "It'll be an adventure."
Fiammetta hesitated—but when Exu stood and held out a hand, she took it.
Their hands touched. Warm—not from the weather, but from something quietly blooming behind those sharp, steady eyes of hers.
Beside them, Mostima strolled lazily as usual, twirling the stick like she was sketching invisible trails in the air.
Three girls walked down an unfamiliar road, with light steps and no clear destination.
But for once, Fiammetta knew one thing for sure:
She wasn't alone anymore.