Chương 132: Chapter 125: The Silent Heart and the Melody Within

The sprawling, opulent interior of the Vanille estate was a monument to suffocating perfection. Every gilded mirror, every polished marble floorboard, every priceless artifact screamed of upper-class prestige. It was a house entirely devoid of warmth, a gilded cage built to protect a reputation. Inside the grand family room, a sanctuary strictly forbidden to the children of the house, a deafening crash shattered the pristine silence.

An expensive, antique Akaibara vase lay in a thousand glittering, jagged shards across the intricate woven rug. The heavy mahogany doors flew open. Jimmy Vanille, the formidable city manager for the Vale City Council, stormed into the room. His face was flushed with a terrifying, aristocratic rage. Right behind him hurried Carmel Vanille, her hands flying to her pearl necklace in sheer dismay.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Jimmy roared, his furious gaze snapping from the shattered porcelain to the corner of the room. There, shrinking back against the floral wallpaper, was an eight-year-old girl with plain brown hair and wide, terrified eyes. Little Trivia Vanille trembled violently, her small hands clutching the fabric of her pristine, ruffled dress.

"Oh, Jimmy, the Akaibara vase..." Carmel gasped, her voice laced with profound disappointment. She looked at her daughter, not with maternal concern, but with the weary frustration of a hostess dealing with a ruined centerpiece.

"Trivia, what on Remnant happened in here? Why are you in this room?" Trivia shrank further back. Her hands shook as she raised a small, worn communication board. With frantic, uncoordinated gestures, she spelled out a single word, pointing toward the empty air beside her.

'N-E-O.' She was blaming her imaginary friend. Jimmy's face contorted into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. He had suffered enough of her silent antics, her bizarre mannerisms, and her absolute failure to be the perfect, normal daughter his political career demanded.

"I had enough of this nonsense!" Jimmy bellowed, taking long, aggressive strides across the room. Scared out of her wits, Trivia dove behind the velvet couch, curling into a tight, desperate ball.

"Get out here!" Jimmy snarled. He reached behind the upholstery, his large hands clamping violently around the little girl's ankles. He hauled her out from under the furniture, ignoring her silent, thrashing struggles, and lifted her entirely upside down. He shook her roughly, the sheer cruelty of the act entirely lost on his ego.

"Speak to me!" Jimmy demanded, spittle flying from his lips.

"Speak for yourself and tell me what you did! Use your voice like a normal human being, you little freak!" Suspended upside down, tears streaming down her red face, Trivia desperately tried to force a sound past her lips. Her throat strained, her chest heaved, but the only noise that escaped was a pathetic, dry, rasping gasp. Jimmy threw her back onto her feet. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her mercilessly down the hall, throwing her roughly onto the carpet of her bedroom.

"I am ashamed!" Jimmy yelled, his voice echoing off the sterile walls of her room.

"Ashamed to have a daughter who refuses to be normal!" Carmel stood in the hallway, letting out a long, heavy sigh. She looked down at Trivia, her gaze deliberately avoiding the little girl's mismatched eyes out of sheer, unvarnished disdain.

"It's obvious she doesn't wish to make an effort," Carmel murmured coldly. The heavy wooden door slammed shut. The lock clicked with a terrifying, absolute finality, leaving Trivia entirely alone in the dim light of her bedroom. Trivia curled her knees to her chest, crying in silent, agonizing sobs. The world was a cold, hateful place. In order to keep the facade of an ordinary family intact, they kept her locked away like a dirty secret, confined to the estate and entirely out of public view.

"Wow. Those two are total jerks." Trivia flinched, wiping her eyes. She turned her head toward the voice. Sitting casually on the edge of her bed, swinging her legs with a rebellious, uncaring energy, was her imaginary friend.

'Neo' looked exactly like Trivia, sharing her face and stature, but her hair was a vibrant, defiant pink. Her entire demeanor radiated a wild, unapologetic "bad girl" attitude that the timid Trivia could only dream of.

"If all parents are like that," Neo scoffed, rolling her eyes and leaning back on her hands, "then we're way better off not having parents at all." Neo hopped off the bed, walking over and kneeling in front of the crying girl. Her fierce expression softened into something fiercely protective.

"Don't cry, Triv," Neo smiled warmly.

"You aren't alone. You have me."

The memory violently blurred, the timeline shifting forward four years. Twelve-year-old Trivia Vanille stood in the bustling, neon-lit commercial district of Vale. The night air was crisp, filled with the scent of roasted street food and the hum of traffic. With constant, whispering encouragement from "Neo", Trivia had finally done the unthinkable. While Jimmy and Carmel were busy hosting a massive, pretentious political gala at the estate, Trivia had slipped out the back gates without permission.

At first, she had been paralyzed by apprehension, terrified of her parents' wrath. But the dazzling wonder of the city, standing in stark contrast to the suffocating prison of her bedroom, quickly overpowered her fear. She was currently sipping a rich, strawberry milkshake from a local vendor, her eyes wide with innocent joy as she watched the city move.

"Well, look what we have here." Trivia froze. Three older girls: Cookie, Mags, and Heather, stepped out of an alleyway, boxing her in. They wore the smug, cruel sneers of bullies looking for an easy target.

"Look at her eyes," Cookie mocked, pointing a finger at Trivia's face.

"Freaky. What's wrong with you? Can't afford matching contacts?" Trivia stepped back, clutching her milkshake. She opened her mouth, desperately gesturing with her free hand, but she couldn't explain. She couldn't tell them she was mute.

"Oh, what? Cat got your tongue?" Heather laughed. Panicking, Trivia tried to dart past them. Cookie didn't miss a beat. She stuck her foot out, hooking Trivia's ankle. Trivia tumbled hard onto the pavement. The plastic cup exploded, sending a sticky wave of pink milkshake cascading all over her clothes and the pavement. The three girls erupted into cruel, mocking laughter. Sitting in the spilled milkshake, her hands scraped and her clothes ruined, a deep, bubbling, unfamiliar heat ignited within Trivia's chest.

For years, she had swallowed the abuse. She had taken the shaking, the locking away, the cold stares. But out here, under the city lights, the anger finally boiled over. Her Semblance awakened. Trivia glared up at the bullies, the air around her suddenly shimmering like broken glass. Cookie's laughter abruptly died. Her eyes widened in genuine surprise as she looked past Trivia. Mags and Heather gasped, stumbling backward. For the first time, "Neo" wasn't just in Trivia's head.

The illusory girl, with her pink hair and fierce smirk, had materialized physically into the waking world, clearly visible to the bullies.

"Neo" didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, pulling her fist back, and delivered a brutal, flawless right hook directly into the center of Cookie's face. CRUNCH. The illusory girl shattered into a million glittering shards of pink glass upon impact, but the kinetic force was entirely real. Cookie shrieked in agony, clutching her broken, bleeding nose as she collapsed to the sidewalk. Mags and Heather screamed in sheer terror, backing away from the bizarre, glass-shattering magic.

The commotion instantly drew the attention of two nearby Vale Police officers.

"Hey! Stop right there!" Trivia scrambled to her feet, her heart hammering as she sprinted blindly down the alleyway, fleeing from the flashing sirens that echoed into the night.

The scenery ripped away, shifting to the oppressive, familiar darkness of the Vanille estate. Eighteen-year-old Trivia knelt on the floorboards of her bedroom. Despite her age, her body was still remarkably small and petite. She held a pair of stolen hairpins, her hands trembling in profound frustration as she desperately tried to pick the heavy, new deadbolt her parents had installed on her door to keep her contained while they were out on business. The stubborn tumblers refused to click.

She threw the pins to the floor in a fit of silent rage.

"Neo" materialized beside her, leaning against the doorframe. She tapped her chin, pointing toward a can of hairspray and a lighter resting on the vanity. Taking the suggestion, Trivia constructed a makeshift flamethrower. She held the flame to the heavy metal lock, intending to heat the tumblers until they warped. But the heat was too intense. A stray spark caught the expensive drapery hanging near the door. Within seconds, the fabric went up in a blazing inferno.

The fire spread with terrifying speed, licking up the wallpaper and engulfing the bedroom door. Trivia coughed violently, the thick black smoke stinging her lungs. She possessed no means of putting out the blaze. With the flames closing in, Trivia grabbed a delicate paper parasol from her closet. She ran to the balcony, threw the glass doors open, and leaped into the night air. She opened the parasol, channeling her Aura to reinforce the fragile paper, slowing her descent toward the courtyard below.

But the strain of the fire and the sheer panic drained her reserves rapidly. The glow of her Aura flickered and died. The paper tore. Trivia plummeted. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the bone-shattering impact. Instead, she hit a pair of soft, tangible arms.

"Neo" had caught her. But the illusory construct couldn't hold the physical weight without Aura. With a sharp sound of breaking glass, "Neo" shattered entirely, dropping Trivia the remaining few feet to the grass as her Aura reached a critically low level for the very first time. Trivia lay in the dirt, gasping for breath, desperate to keep her Semblance active so she wouldn't lose her friend. The wail of fire engines and police sirens pierced the night.

A moment later, the heavy iron gates of the estate swung open. Jimmy and Carmel's luxury car sped into the driveway. Her parents rushed out, staring at the blazing inferno consuming the upper wing of their mansion.

"My house!" Jimmy screamed, his face pale with horror. He looked at the approaching police cruisers, sheer panic seizing his features.

"The police will search the premises! If they find out what caused this... we could be ruined!" Carmel looked at him in confusion, before her eyes snapped down to the soot-covered, gasping girl in the grass.

"Trivia! What did you do?!" Trivia, trembling, pointed a shaking finger toward the faintly shimmering, barely sustained illusion of "Neo" standing nearby. The reaction was instantaneous.

"You!" Jimmy roared, his face turning a violent purple. Carmel stepped forward, her eyes blazing with absolute, cold fury. She raised her hand and struck "Neo" across the face. The illusion violently shattered, completely draining the absolute last drop of Trivia's Aura. Trivia fell forward into the dirt, breaking down into heavy, silent tears. Her hands frantically swept over the grass, desperately trying to piece the scattered, glittering shards of her friend back together, but they melted away into nothingness.

She was alone. She was going to be alone forever.

'I'm still here.' A voice echoed purely inside Trivia's mind. It wasn't her own. It was "Neo." For the first time in her miserable, suffocating life, Trivia felt an absolute, profound sense of completion. The illusion hadn't died. It had merged with her. She felt whole.

"I never want to see that freakish manifestation again!" Jimmy bellowed, pointing a furious finger at his daughter. Trivia slowly stood up from the dirt. She didn't cower. She didn't hide. She looked her father dead in the eye, placed her hands on her hips, and delivered a flawless, wordless, incredibly sassy shrug that radiated pure, concentrated defiance. Jimmy's eyes widened in sheer astonishment, followed immediately by volcanic rage. He raised his hand, stepping forward to strike her.

Carmel intercepted him, grabbing his arm. Trivia didn't flinch. Her posture shifted, her chin tilting up, her entire body language practically daring the man to try and hit her again. Jimmy stared at the stranger his daughter had become. Disgusted and humiliated, he stormed off toward the police barricades. Carmel turned to look at Trivia. Her gaze was as cold and dead as the winter frost.

"It is entirely obvious that you do not wish to be a part of this family anymore." Carmel stated, her voice devoid of any maternal warmth. Then... Carmel raised her hands and forcefully pushed her daughter backward. Trivia stumbled. But her foot didn't hit the grass. The ground beneath her vanished entirely. Trivia gasped, flailing her arms as she plunged backward into a bottomless, pitch-black abyss. The wind roared in her ears. She looked up, the opening of the abyss shrinking into a tiny square of light.

Standing at the edge of the precipice, looking down at her falling form, were Jimmy and Carmel. Their faces were blank, disgusted masks. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

"A mistake." Their voices echoed down into the dark, overlapping into a singular, damning judgment.

"You were just a mistake."

Neopolitan snapped awake, her chest heaving as she let out a silent, ragged pant. She sat up quickly, her heterochromic eyes darting around in blind panic. She was wearing her usual tailored combat clothes. The familiar white, pink, and brown tailcoat from her days in Vale. She looked around, her racing heart slowly calming as her brain processed her surroundings. She was sitting on the metal bench of a standard Atlesian Bullhead.

The dim red emergency lights hummed softly overhead, the engines vibrating beneath her boots. How did I get here? Neo thought, her brow furrowing in deep confusion. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in the penthouse.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Neo froze. The air left her lungs entirely. The voice was smooth, cocky, and incredibly, agonizingly familiar. She whipped her head toward the opposite side of the cabin. Her eyes widened to their absolute limits, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Sitting across from her was Roman Torchwick. He was leaning casually against the metal bulkhead, a lit cigar resting between his fingers.

He offered her that signature, confident smirk that always made the world feel like it was theirs for the taking. He was impeccably dressed in his iconic, immaculate outfit. The pristine white trench coat, the stark red-lined suit jacket, the dark gray trousers, and his signature bowler hat resting perfectly atop his bright orange hair. The sight of him, looking exactly as brilliant and untouchable as she remembered, made the cold metal cabin suddenly feel like the safest place in the world.

Roman chuckled softly, taking a slow drag from his cigar.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Neo. Bad dream?" Neo remained paralyzed, tears instantly welling in her eyes.

"Don't worry about it," Roman smiled, his green eyes softening with a profound, genuine warmth.

"It's over now. You're safe." Neo tilted her head, blinking rapidly. She looked down at the metal bench, touched the cold steel wall of the cabin, and felt the vibration of the engines. It felt so incredibly real. The scent of his cigar smoke was unmistakable. Even if it was a dream, she didn't care. Neo launched herself across the aisle. She threw her arms around Roman's neck, burying her face into his white trench coat, hugging him with a desperate, crushing ferocity.

Roman blinked, entirely surprised by the sudden assault. He let out a booming, highly amused laugh, nearly dropping his cigar.

"Whoa, easy there! Watch the coat, it's dry-clean only!" Roman joked, shifting his weight. He gently raised his black-gloved hand, patting the top of her head with fond amusement.

"What's gotten into you? You're acting like a clingy little kitten today." Neo pulled back just enough to look at him, puffing her cheeks out into a fierce, dramatic pout. Roman laughed again, shaking his head.

"Okay, okay. I missed you too." Neo settled onto the bench right beside him, pulling her knees to her chest, a radiant, tearful smile spreading across her face. For the next while, they just sat together. Roman talked, his voice filling the quiet cabin. He reminisced about their greatest hits.

"Remember that Dust shop down in the commercial district?" Roman chuckled, spinning his cane lazily.

"The one with the old guy who kept trying to haggle? We cleared his entire back room in under three minutes. And then that little red-hooded brat showed up and blew me out the window. Still can't believe a kid swinging a farming tool caused us that much grief." He laughed, leaning his head back against the wall.

"Or the Paladin chase on the highway? Watching you completely dismantle that blonde brawler on the train... priceless. We really had the whole city dancing in the palm of our hands." Neo smiled softly, closing her eyes as she listened to his voice, cherishing every single syllable. The warmth radiating from his presence was an anchor against the dark.

"After this job is done," Roman sighed contentedly, looking out the viewport at the dark clouds.

"We can go wherever we want. We've got enough Lien secured to buy a private island if we wanted to. We can heist whichever place we want... well, as long as it's not a military base. I've had enough of Ironwood's tin soldiers to last a lifetime." Neo let out a silent, airy chuckle, resting her head against his shoulder.

"I was thinking maybe we take a real vacation," Roman mused, tapping his cigar against an ashtray.

"We can hit up a high-end coffee shop in Mistral. Or find a fancy restaurant in Vacuo. Hell, we could just take a picnic out in the countryside and do absolutely nothing for a week." Roman paused, turning his head to look down at her, a knowing glint in his eye.

"Besides... I haven't forgotten. You've got your twenty-fourth birthday coming up next month." Neo's eyes widened happily. She sat up straight, aggressively pointing to herself and making a rapid, demanding 'gimme' gesture with her hands. Roman rolled his eyes, letting out a long, theatrical sigh.

"Yes, yes. I promise. I will buy you the biggest, most ridiculously expensive three-flavored ice cream cake I can find. Extra strawberry." Neo beamed, doing a small, triumphant shimmy in her seat. The cabin fell into a comfortable, deeply intimate silence. Roman stared at the glowing ash of his cigar, his usual cocky facade melting away to reveal the raw, tired humanity beneath.

"We've come a really long way, you know," Roman whispered, his voice thick with a sudden, profound vulnerability.

"I was just a street rat. Abandoned. Left to rot in the gutters of Vale. And you... locked away in a gilded cage by people who couldn't even stand to look at you." Roman reached out, gently placing his hand over hers.

"I'm really glad we met, Neo. I don't know where I'd be without you watching my back." He looked at her, his green eyes burning with an absolute, unshakeable loyalty.

"We can do whatever we want in this world. Even if the entire planet turns against us... it doesn't matter. As long as we are together. Always." Neo felt a hot tear slip down her cheek. She didn't wipe it away. She offered him a beautiful, incredibly warm smile, squeezing his hand tightly. Suddenly, the Bullhead shuddered, a heavy, metallic clank echoing from the landing gear.

"Looks like we're here," Roman announced, his swagger instantly returning. He stood up, grabbing his cane and walking eagerly toward the heavy steel hatch doors.

"Let's see the payoff. We are about to get a lot of cash with this one, Neo." Neo stood up, offering him a sharp, confident thief's smirk.

"Now," Roman grumbled, adjusting his bowler hat.

"We just need to wait for what Cinder will say next. That fiery lady is truly a pain in the butt to work with." Neo froze. The blood instantly turned to ice in her veins. Her heterochromic eyes widened in sheer, paralyzing shock at the mention of the Fall Maiden's name. The heavy hatch doors hissed and slid wide open. The freezing, chaotic wind howled into the cabin. Outside the Bullhead, the sky was a bruised, apocalyptic crimson. Plumes of black smoke rose from the burning courtyards of Beacon Academy below.

"Man, look at this mess." Roman commented casually, leaning on his cane as he surveyed the burning school.

"But hey, it can't be helped. Money is money." Neo couldn't breathe. Her expression completely shattered, morphing from absolute joy to pure, unadulterated horror. She knew what day this was. She knew what was coming. Roman turned his head, looking back at her. He offered his familiar, confident, assuring smile. At that exact moment, a massive, terrifying shadow eclipsed the open doorway.

A Griffon, its jaws unhinged and dripping with malice, flew silently out of the crimson clouds, diving directly toward the Bullhead. Toward Roman. Neo's hands flew to her head. She lunged forward, screaming frantically, her mouth wide open, but her voice was trapped in her throat. Absolute silence mocked her desperation.

"What's wrong?" Roman asked, his smile faltering slightly in confusion.

"You're making that face again." The Griffon was agonizingly close now. The wind from its massive wings rattled the cabin. Neo threw herself toward him, tears streaming down her face, screaming in absolute, silent agony as she reached out to grab his coat. Roman just laughed, shaking his head.

"Oh, you're such a worrywart. I'm not going anywhere!" The Griffon's jaws parted just inches behind his back. Roman was perfectly, inescapably within the range of its teeth. He didn't turn around. He kept his eyes locked on Neo, his smile softening into a look of absolute, eternal promise.

"I'll always be with you." NOOO!!! Neo screamed in silence, her hand grabbing empty air as the jaws snapped shut.

Neopolitan gasped violently, her body jerking upright as she snapped awake. Her chest heaved with rapid, ragged pants, cold sweat clinging to her forehead. She threw her hands out, grasping at the expensive silk sheets beneath her. She was not on a burning airship. She found herself sitting alone in the center of the massive king-sized bed, surrounded by the quiet, opulent luxury of the Schnee-sponsored penthouse in Atlas. She was wearing her soft pink pajamas.

The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint, icy glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. Neo buried her face in her trembling hands. She was terrified. The nightmares had been creeping back into her mind for the past few days, striking when she least expected them. First, the terrifying, suffocating memories of her abusive, neglectful biological parents locking her away in the dark.

And now, the dream about her dearest friend, the only person she truly viewed as family, twisting maliciously into the horrific nightmare of his death. Neo let out a long, shaky exhale, rubbing the tears from her eyes. She pushed the heavy comforter aside, sliding her bare feet onto the heated hardwood floor. She walked out of the master bedroom, padding silently down the long, carpeted hallway toward the kitchen.

She opened the refrigerator, poured herself a glass of fresh, ice-cold water, and drank it down in one long gulp. Setting the glass on the marble counter, Neo stood perfectly still in the dark. She stared out at the expansive, shadowy living room of the penthouse. Her breathing had returned to normal. The panic was subsiding. She knew she needed to go back to sleep. But she couldn't. She was terrified to close her eyes. She was terrified that the moment she drifted off, her trauma would surface again.

She was scared to face her dark past, to hear Jimmy Vanille's cruel voice. She was terrified to see her family ripped away from her again. And to Neo, "family" was definitely not the aristocratic monsters who birthed her. It was her one and only, Roman Torchwick. She hugged her arms tightly around herself, feeling incredibly, profoundly small. She didn't want to be alone again. Slowly, her heterochromic gaze drifted away from the living room, settling down the dark hallway.

Her eyes locked onto the closed wooden door of the guest bedroom. Saitama's bedroom. Neo stared at the door for a long moment, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. She turned on her heel, walking quickly back to the master bedroom. She snatched her Scroll from the nightstand, gripping the glowing device tightly, and walked back out into the hall. She approached the guest bedroom door. She raised her knuckle, tapping lightly against the wood. No answer. Neo rolled her eyes. She reached down and twisted the doorknob.

It clicked easily. The door swung open. Her invincible "bodyguard" had completely forgotten to lock his door again. Neo slipped inside, the faint light from the hallway illuminating the modest guest room. Saitama was sprawled diagonally across the mattress in his blue-and-white striped pajamas. He was completely tangled in the blankets, one leg hanging off the edge, snoring with a loud, rhythmic, comically vibrating snort that rattled the glass on the nightstand. Neo walked over to the bedside.

She reached out, gently shaking his shoulder to wake him up. Saitama didn't even flinch. He just smacked his lips, mumbling something entirely unintelligible in his sleep, and rolled over onto his stomach. Neo's left eye twitched. She let out a silent huff of profound exasperation. She raised her hand and delivered a sharp, highly comical slap directly to his bicep.

"MY CABBAGES!!!" Saitama violently shot upright, screaming in absolute, comical terror. He panted heavily, his dotted eyes darting around the room wildly as he clutched the blanket to his chest, preparing to defend his produce from an invisible threat. He blinked, his eyes finally focusing on the tiny girl in pink pajamas standing next to his bed. Saitama's terror instantly melted into a deep, irritated scowl. He rubbed his arm, glaring at her.

"What is your problem?!" Saitama complained, his voice dropping into a whiny, nasal drone.

"You totally ruined my dream! They were ninety percent off, and a giant subterranean caterpillar just stepped on them! What do you want? It's the middle of the night!" Neo didn't react to his complaining. She simply held up her Scroll, the bright screen illuminating her tired face. [I can't sleep.] Saitama stared at the text for a second. He blinked his dotted eyes, his expression returning to its absolute, flat baseline.

"Well, I can. Good night." Without another word, Saitama flopped backward onto the mattress, instantly closing his eyes and letting out a loud, comical snore. Neo's jaw dropped. She puffed her cheeks out into a massive, furious pout. She leaned over and grabbed his shoulder, violently shaking his entire body with aggressive, relentless force.

"Alright, alright! I'm up! I'm up!" Saitama groaned miserably, finally giving up as he dragged himself into a sitting position, rubbing his bald head.

"Geez, what do you want now?" Neo typed rapidly on her Scroll and shoved it under his nose. [Move aside.] Saitama stared at the words. He tilted his head, profound confusion wrinkling his forehead. Then, his dotted eyes widened. A bright, comically triumphant grin broke across his face as he completely misinterpreted the request.

"Oh! You want to switch bedrooms!" Saitama cheered, throwing the blankets off his legs.

"You finally realized the error of your ways and you're giving me the master suite with the king-sized bed! Awesome! Fine by me." Saitama eagerly swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, fully intending to march down the hall and claim his rightful luxury. Before his boots could touch the floorboards, Neo's hand shot out. She grabbed a fistful of his striped pajama shirt, violently yanking him backward. Saitama stumbled, looking over his shoulder in deep confusion.

Neo pointed a stern finger at the mattress, gesturing aggressively for him to stay exactly where he was. Saitama stared at her pointing finger. The realization slowly clicked into place. His triumphant grin vanished, replaced by an expression of extreme, comical annoyance.

"Seriously?" Saitama complained loudly, crossing his arms.

"Nah! I want to sleep alone! I need my personal space! Besides, this bed is not big enough! You'll hog all the blankets!" Neo's eyes narrowed into lethal slits. She dropped her Scroll onto the nightstand, balled her hands into tight fists, and began to comically, consecutively punch his arm, delivering a rapid flurry of rapid-fire strikes while pouting furiously. Bop-bop-bop-bop-bop!

"Yeah, fine! I'm staying! Stop hitting me!" Saitama grumbled, waving his hands to fend off the annoying, painless assault.

"Geez, you're such a brat..." Saitama let out a massive, soul-crushing sigh. He swung his legs back onto the mattress, scooting all the way over to the far edge until his back was practically pressed against the wall. He lay down, crossing his arms over his chest. Neo climbed onto the mattress. She slid into the empty space beside him, settling onto the pillows. Saitama reached over, grabbing the edge of the heavy comforter and pulling it up, covering both of them.

"Just don't push me off the edge," Saitama warned flatly, staring at the ceiling.

"If I wake up on the floor, I'm hiding your snacks." Neo simply smirked in the dark, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Both of them closed their eyes. For a long while, the room was perfectly quiet. Saitama's breathing quickly evened out, and within minutes, his loud, comical snoring resumed, vibrating softly through the mattress. But Neo couldn't sleep. The silence of the room allowed the shadows to creep back in. The horrifying memories flashed violently against the back of her eyelids.

Jimmy Vanille's enraged, purple face. Carmel's cold, disgusted glare. The sensation of falling into the endless black abyss. And then, the red sky of Beacon, the deafening roar of the Griffon, and the sickening snap of its jaws closing around Roman. Neo gasped, her eyes snapping wide open in the dark. Her heart hammered a frantic, terrified rhythm against her ribs. Her breathing turned shallow and rapid. She still couldn't sleep. The fear was too heavy. Slowly, her heterochromic eyes shifted to the right.

She looked at Saitama. He already went to his dream land, completely oblivious to her panic attack, sleeping with his mouth hanging slightly open as a tiny snot-bubble formed on his nose. Neo stared at the invincible idiot. The man she had blackmailed into being her "bodyguard", her "meat-shield". She hesitated, her hands gripping the edge of the comforter. Taking a slow, shaky breath, she made her decision. Neo scooted across the mattress, moving her small body directly into his space.

She pressed her side firmly against Saitama's ribs. She reached out, her small hands tightly gripping the fabric of his striped pajamas, anchoring herself to him. Finally, she buried her face deeply into the crook of his shoulder, hiding from the dark. She closed her eyes, utilizing his massive, indestructible presence as a physical shield against the nightmares hunting her soul.

As she lay there, listening to the steady, rhythmic thud of his heart beneath his pajamas, the frantic tension in her muscles slowly began to loosen. As the warmth of his body seeped into hers, Neo let her mind drift backward. She remembered the very first time she found him, walking through the ruined, ash-choked streets of Kuroyuri village. She remembered deciding to follow him, thinking she could manipulate a dangerous warlord into helping her meet the Spider syndicate.

She remembered how quickly that terrifying image had faded, replaced by the sheer buffoonery of a man complaining about dirty boots and expired coupons. She remembered how he had effortlessly protected her from Lil' Miss Malachite's lethal enforcers without breaking a sweat. How he had shielded her from the apocalyptic Grimm invasion in Upper Mistral, carrying her piggyback-style when her Aura had completely failed her.

She remembered sitting on the ruined pillars of Haven Academy, listening to him defend her past to Ruby Rose with absolute, unbothered simplicity.

"I don't care about anyone's past." He had said, validating her current existence in a way no one else ever had. Anchored by those incredibly bizarre, comforting memories, the terror finally relinquished its grip. Neo's breathing slowed, syncing with the rhythm of his snores, and she drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

The vision inside her mind became a brilliant, warm white. She was dreaming again. But this time, it was entirely different. Neo found herself sitting in the middle of a vast, breathtakingly beautiful field of vibrant green grass. The sky above was a brilliant, crystal-clear blue, completely devoid of ash or fire.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Neo gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. She turned her head. Sitting right next to her on a checkered picnic blanket was Roman Torchwick. He was wearing his usual, immaculate outfit. The pristine white trench coat, the red-lined suit, and his iconic bowler hat. He looked perfectly healthy, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. They were in the middle of a peaceful picnic. Neo stared at him, her heterochromic eyes welling with thick, heavy tears.

Roman chuckled softly, taking a bite of an apple.

"What's with the waterworks, Neo? Did you just have a nightmare? Don't worry about it. It's over now." Roman turned his gaze forward, looking out over the beautiful, sun-drenched hills. Neo sat quietly beside him, watching his profile, afraid to blink in case he vanished. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Roman let out a long, nostalgic sigh.

"We've come a really long way, you know." Roman murmured, a wistful smile touching his lips.

"I was just an abandoned street rat, trying to survive the gutters. And you... locked away and abused by people who thought they were better than everyone else. I'm really glad we found each other in the dark." Roman slowly stood up from the picnic blanket. He walked a few steps forward, stopping in the middle of the vast green field, the wind rustling his white coat. Neo remained seated on the blanket, watching him from the back.

"You see..." Roman spoke, his voice carrying clearly over the gentle breeze, turning into a profound, serious life lesson.

"I know I'm not a good person. I know the things I did. But... I don't have a single regret about the choices I made." He looked up at the sky.

"After everything that I've been through... that WE have been through... I realize that, the point of life isn't about being good or bad." Neo listened to him. Roman continued.

"It's about finding the right place where you actually belong. It's about making your own happiness, and living it to the absolute fullest, no matter what anyone else says." Roman turned his head slightly, looking back over his shoulder.

"All you need to do, Neo... is keep moving forward. And from what I've seen, it looks like you're already doing exactly that." Roman offered a reassuring nod.

"Never forget... you are not alone. You are never alone." Neo's eyes widened in profound shock, the tears spilling over her eyelashes as she stared at the thief who had saved her life. Roman turned completely around, facing her. He offered a beautiful, incredibly warm smile that carried the absolute weight of his love for her.

"You already found that place, Neo." Roman whispered gently.

"Live in it. Cherish it." Suddenly, Roman's body began to shimmer. His boots, his white coat, his hands... They slowly began to dissolve, fading into brilliant, floating specks of golden light that drifted upward into the sky. Neo gasped in sheer panic. She scrambled off the picnic blanket, sprinting across the grass toward him, tears streaming down her face. Roman laughed, a bright, joyous sound, even as his form continued to fade away.

"You're such a worrywart! I'm not going anywhere!" Neo ran faster, reaching her hand out desperately to catch him. Her silent tears flew into the wind. As she closed the distance, she saw Roman's final, incredibly peaceful smile.

"I'll always be with you, Neo." Roman promised softly.

"Wherever you are. Whatever happens." With a final, brilliant flash of light, Roman Torchwick completely faded away, dissolving into golden specks just as Neo arrived at the spot where he had stood. The only thing left behind was his signature bowler hat, which tumbled gracefully through the air, landing softly onto the green grass in front of her. Neo fell heavily to her knees. She didn't scream. She cried in absolute, silent, healing sorrow.

She reached out with trembling hands, picking the bowler hat up from the grass. She clutched it to her chest, closing her eyes as she fully, finally mourned the man who had been her entire world. His last words echoed perfectly in her heart, locking themselves into her soul forever. And then... Neo felt a sudden, gentle movement. Someone carefully took Roman's bowler hat right out of her trembling hands. Before she could panic, that someone gently, respectfully placed the bowler hat perfectly atop her own head.

Neo opened her eyes in profound confusion. She looked up. Kneeling on the grass directly in front of her, staring straight into her eyes, was a certain bald hero. He wasn't wearing the fancy black suit. He was dressed in his classic, iconic yellow hero suit, complete with the red gloves, red boots, and the white cape blowing majestically in the wind. Neo's eyes widened. A sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion swelled in her chest, deeply moved by his presence in her most sacred dream. He looked at the crying girl.

His face remained in its usual, comical, simplistic oval. But he offered her a genuine, incredibly warm smile. He kept his left hand resting gently on the brim of the bowler hat he had just placed on her head. With his right hand, he offered her a solid, reassuring thumbs-up.

"It's alright." In that moment, a beautiful montage of memories flashed vividly through Neo's mind. The moment Saitama casually bought her the three-flavored Neapolitan ice cream in the grime of Mistral Below, fulfilling a promise simply because he said he would. The afternoon she had dressed him in the black suit and white trench coat in Argus Limited train station, handing him Roman's bowler hat and feeling the grief in her chest lighten.

The days he had spent trailing behind her in Atlas, carrying towering stacks of her shopping bags with a comically annoyed expression while she smiled happily. The moment he had gently patted her head after she exhausted her Aura projecting the Silver Titan, and later carried her piggyback without a single complaint. And the chaotic, incredibly warm hotpot dinner they had shared with Team RWBY and Team JNPR, surrounded by laughter and life.

Back in the guest bedroom of the Schnee-sponsored luxury penthouse, the city of Atlas slumbered under the starlight. In the quiet, dark room, Neo was sleeping soundly right beside Saitama. Her small body was pressed tightly against his side. Her hand was no longer gripping his pajamas in fear. Instead, she had wrapped her arm securely around his upper body in a comfortable embrace. Her head was buried deeply into his shoulder, her eyes peacefully closed.

In her sleep, Neo was entirely relaxed, soaking in the absolute, impenetrable warmth and safety radiating from the invincible hero. Her lips were curved upward, forming a genuine, beautiful, completely untroubled smile as she dreamed.