Angelic Predator:Trust Me, I'm Sane

{Elarion, Age 3 – POV}

Danny wasn't smarter than me. Not even close.

He was clever—yes. Quick with strategies and fast on his feet when it came to problem-solving.

But I was on another level. My mind had seen war before it saw sunlight. I knew tactics, history, psychology, and death before I learned to tie my own shoes.

That is another thing that I prefer to attack first and plan never, why waste time right??

If you know a person is evil, just kill him why go through the trouble to collect evidence.

I sighed.

But still… he surprised me.

Not because he was stronger. Or wiser.

But because he didn't fear me.

He was a commoner. Weak-bodied, soft-hearted, always babbling.

But he looked me in the eye and smiled like I wasn't dangerous. Like I wasn't a monster in disguise.

> "If I were a villain," he said one day, "you'd be the overpowered anti-hero who pretends he doesn't care."

> "I don't pretend," I replied flatly.

> "Exactly," he grinned. "You really don't."

He didn't say it to mock me. He just… saw me. And accepted it.

" Works is doom, if someone like you can be a villain" I deadpanned.

Danny laughed out louder while hitting my shoulder and shaking me, which I didn't react to. Wise people always ignore it .Indeed.

---

Danny couldn't swing a sword, but he could break apart a battle formation with five pebbles and a stick.

One afternoon, he used ants and leaves to explain how smaller armies could outmaneuver a larger one with terrain advantage.

I raised an eyebrow.

> "You know you're explaining this to someone who already knew it?"

> "Yeah. But it feels nice being heard."

I didn't reply.

But I listened.

---

He didn't complete me.

No one could.

But he… filled something.

There were moments where I'd look at him and think:

> If I had someone like him back then… would I have turned out different?

> If he had survived...

I just looked towards him who was busy explaining something, he looked towards me and flashed a smile.

>Hmmm.....will I be able to smile worrylessly one day?? Not like it matters, I should be happy inside not from outside.

---

He brought food to our lessons sometimes—terrible cookies his hands couldn't shape properly.

> "They're ugly but they taste like victory."

> "They taste like salt and regret," I replied.

He laughed and threw one at me.

I didn't dodge.

I didn't need to because his aim sucks.

---

He talked about school often. He was both excited and anxious.

> "What if I mess up in front of the nobles?"

> "Then I'll mess them up," I said casually.

He blinked.

> "You'd do that?"

> "You're my friend," I said, like it was obvious. Then paused.

Did I really say that?

> "You said it," he smiled softly, as if reading my thoughts.

---

He couldn't protect me.

Couldn't fight beside me.

But he grounded me.

When I was too cold, he'd warm me with stupid jokes.

When I was lost in logic, he'd throw emotions in like a wrench in a machine.

He was fragile, but unshakable.

And in this life…

I wouldn't let him break.

---

Few days later:-

We sat in the shade of the training hall porch, the day lazily drifting by. Our lessons had ended early. Marcus was speaking with a knight nearby, leaving me and Danny with time to simply... exist.

He was carving a wooden piece with a dull knife—some new idea of his for a strategy game. I watched him in silence, arms folded across my knees.

> "You're staring," he said without looking up.

> "I'm observing."

> "Same thing, but more mysterious," he smirked.

I didn't respond.

A breeze passed through, and I found myself watching the sky, the clouds—how slow they moved. Unbothered by anything below.

> "You ever wonder what you'd be if you weren't… you?" Danny asked suddenly.

> "I am who I am. Wondering doesn't change that," I replied.

He tilted his head toward me, playful curiosity in his eyes.

> "No dreams? Not even one?"

That stopped me.

Dreams?

I never allowed myself such luxuries. In my past life, dreaming had been dangerous. Pointless. Dreamers died. I survived.

And yet… the question lingered.

I looked down at my hands.

Small, but steady.

Not yet stained with blood. Not this time.

> "I used to want a house," I said quietly, surprising even myself. "Not a mansion. Just... quiet. With a garden. Somewhere far from nobles and knives."

Danny blinked. "You—wait, what?"

I glanced sideways.

> "You heard me."

He stared at me like he'd found gold buried under stone.

> "A house. With a garden," he repeated, as if engraving the words into his brain. "That's... actually really soft of you."

> "Say 'soft' again and I'll throw you in a pond."

He grinned, knowing I wouldn't.

> "And in that dream, do I live next door?"

> "You'd probably sneak in uninvited either way."

> "Exactly!" he laughed.

A house, yes this is my dream. I will eat whatever I want, no need to care about any fake perfection. Be what I want to, do what I like.

Calm, steady and normal yet the hardest life. I wish to live like that one day surely.

Maybe with my children, it won't be bad. I can adopt too.

Then something struck me, I came out of my fantasies, after noticing someone's constant state at me.

" What?"

" Nothing" Danny replied with soft smile and I didn't push it any further.

The conversation drifted elsewhere after that. But he was watching me differently—like he saw something new.

Something real.

---

Later, as we were about to part ways, Danny tugged on my sleeve.

> "Elarion."

> "What?"

> "Thanks… for telling me."

> "It was just a house."

> "No," he said, eyes warm. "It wasn't."

He waved, running off after his father.

And I stood there a moment longer, watching the dust settle behind him.

> Not a big secret. Not a dramatic story.

But I said something I'd never said before.

To someone who deserved to hear it.

> I wish, you can be my neighbour.

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