Mushoku Tensei: the Apostle of God

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"It's okay."

Sylphiette looked into Allen's eyes, silent for a moment before her gaze drifted to the necklace resting against his collar.

She blinked.

Then suddenly smiled.

"...As long as I could help Allen, that's enough. I'm already—"

"I'm lucky."

Sylphiette froze. Her smile vanished, eyes widening as she lifted her head.

Allen was staring straight at her, expression utterly serious.

He repeated it.

Emphasized it.

As if afraid she might miss it.

"I'm lucky."

Sylphiette stared at his face for a long moment before her eyes flicked away. The setting sun cast trembling light over her long ears.

Her heartbeat stuttered.

That inexplicable flustered feeling grew heavier.

She sniffed lightly.

"You don't have to say it twice, I heard you..."

"I'm lucky."

Sylphiette jolted, her face burning as she briefly met Allen's gaze before frantically waving her hands.

"I—I need to go to bed! G-Goodnight, Allen!"

With that, she yanked the door open, ready to flee—but stopped just before stepping through.

She turned back.

Because Allen hadn't responded. Normally, he always replied immediately.

Now, under the fading sunlight, his face was half-lit as he tilted his head slightly, watching her with a faint squint.

"Goodnight."

"!"

Sylphiette quickly averted her eyes, slipped inside, and shut the door behind her.

She held her breath.

Pressed her back against the door.

Only when she heard the soft click of Allen's door closing did she finally exhale.

Then, with both hands covering her face, she slid down to the floor.

But even that couldn't hide her flushed cheeks.

After who knows how long, she finally stood up, swaying slightly as she took a few unsteady steps.

At first, she walked quietly, as if trying to suppress something.

Then faster.

Until finally—

She broke into a sprint.

With a flying leap, her white hair fluttering behind her, she threw herself onto the bed and rolled back and forth.

—The Boreas family's beds were soft. Warm. Nothing like the hard wooden bed back in Buena Village.

Even after nearly a year of sleeping here, of experiencing luxury she'd never even dreamed of before, sometimes it still felt unreal.

But whenever that thought surfaced, another immediately crushed it:

He didn't leave me in Buena Village. Allen brought me here.

He lives right next door. Just a wall away.

That alone made it real.

She buried her face in the blankets, holding her breath until she nearly suffocated, then abruptly lifted her head, ears perked in alertness.

No sound of Aleph knocking on Allen's door tonight.

Her lips curled up in a small, satisfied nod.

Getting up, she hopped off the bed and moved to the desk, pulling out the chair to begin her diary.

Beautiful things needed to be recorded.

So she could revisit them later.

But then—

Her expression faltered.

A candle was already lit on the desk, courtesy of the beastgirl maids during the afternoon meeting. The Boreas household's service was impeccable, especially after the staff realized their status far exceeded that of ordinary tutors.

Every day at 5 PM, an hour before nightfall, someone would come to clean, make the bed, and change the sheets. They never touched personal belongings—well-trained and disciplined.

At first, Sylphiette had been uncomfortable with it, but seeing Allen and Rudeus so unfazed, she gradually adjusted.

So why was she hesitating now?

Because—

A letter lay on her desk.

The maids' cleaning time also doubled as mail delivery. This letter hadn't been here when she left in the morning.

Sylphiette blinked.

The Shirone postmark was unmistakable.

Roxy's face flashed in her mind.

And just like that—

The image of Allen looking up at her, his gentle expression, his words—were forcibly ripped from her thoughts.

Sylphiette inhaled sharply.

Her eyelids lowered.

For a moment, she was silent.

Then, though her lips trembled—

She smiled.

The same strained smile Hilda had worn around Allen.

Reaching out, she slowly picked up the letter.

Murmuring, as if speaking to Roxy across the distance—or perhaps trying to convince herself:

"Teacher... this time, I didn't need your encouragement. I stayed strong on my own."

"In my last letter, I really did feel like the world was ending. I cried and begged you to come... but I got back up. Pretty amazing, right?"

Her fingers traced the envelope's seal.

"This situation was so serious, you'll probably come, right? The letter will say when... but I already succeeded."

"Still... if you come, Allen will be happier."

"And I..."

"...will be happy too."

With that fragile smile, she began peeling the letter open.

The seal was small.

But it took her an eternity to break it.

As if by not opening it, she could delay the moment of choice—could keep watching Allen just a little longer.

As if by not reading it—

Rip.

The letter tore open.

Sylphiette stared at the slit for a second before tipping it onto the desk.

"It's okay. I'm already lucky enough."

Her fingers lingered on the paper's edge before she unfolded it.

The candle flickered.

The last light of sunset vanished.

Words filled the page.

Silence.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Ten.

Plip.

A teardrop struck the paper.

Then another.

And another.

Plip. Plip. Plip.

"…Uu."

The girl who had been smiling moments ago now clutched her face, tears streaming between her fingers.

Drenching the letter.

Blurring the words.

———

Dear Sylphy,

Right now, it's you who's by Allen's side.

It's you who's walking with him.

Some things are hard, but you've already taken the first step, haven't you?

By the time this letter arrives, maybe you've even taken the second or third step.

Why do you keep doubting your own strength?

All these years—

Every letter.

Every word.

I've seen them all.

And I've seen how much you've grown.

Even if I were there, I might not have been much help.

But Sylphy... I think you might be misunderstanding something.

About Allen.

And about yourself.

You can afford to be a little firmer.

A little more confident.

How do you know you're not already on the right path?

Sylphy.

I'm not there with Allen.

So take good care of him for me.

Also—you once mentioned envying the necklace I gave him.

Recently, I bought... no, I made one for you too.

(Yes, Allen's necklace was my handiwork as well. Please forgive my crude skills.)

I considered sending it with this letter.

But then I thought...

Maybe it's better to give it to Allen first.

So he can put it around your neck himself.

Please don't refuse.

After all—

You, Allen, and I...

We're an "adventuring party."

Aren't we?

———

If a smile doesn't always mean happiness,

Then tears don't always mean sorrow.

Sylphiette knew exactly what "adventuring party" meant.

She'd written it in her diary too many times to count.

Thought about it too many times to forget.

This time—

She was lucky enough.

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