Chapter 457: Chapter-457
"One last thing," Kaya said. "If you ’did’ know who she was, what would you do?"
The old man paused.
His answer didn’t come quickly this time. He rubbed his thumb over the knuckle of his hand, gaze drifting to the doorway as if imagining someone standing there.
"Depends," he said at last. "If she was like you—mouthy, stubborn, armed, attracting snakes and birds and idiots wherever she goes—"
"Hey."
"—then I’d do what I’m doing now." He looked back at her. "Tell her what little I know. Warn her that everyone else will want a piece of her. And then let her walk out that door and make her own mistakes."
Kaya blinked. "That’s it? No sacred protection? No locking me in a cave for my own good?"
He barked a short laugh. "Do I look like I have the energy to babysit fate? No. The last time our tribe tried to ’protect’ something important, half of us died and the other half regretted surviving." His eyes hardened. "We’re watchers now. Not players."
"And if she was... different?" Kaya asked. "Not like me?"
"Then I would pretend I never recognized her," he said simply. "And hope the gods were too busy looking elsewhere."
The honesty of that answer settled strangely in her chest.
Kaya leaned back, the chair creaking under her weight. For a long moment, she stared at the cracked ceiling, at the faint smoke stain above the candle.
"So you won’t chase me," she said. "You won’t help me. You won’t stop me."
"No." He hesitated, then added, "But I ’will’ give you advice, since you insisted on digging this hole."
She lowered her gaze. "I’m listening."
"If you are her—or even a shard of her—stop asking who you used to be," he said. "Ask what you’re going to do ’now’." He pointed vaguely toward the world beyond the walls. "This place is already kneeling under the weight of old stories. It doesn’t need another ghost trying to live them again."
Kaya’s lips curled into a small, humorless smile. "You make it sound easy."
"It’s not," he said. "That’s why most of you fail."
She huffed a breath that might have been a laugh, might have been a sigh.
"Alright, old man," she said, pushing herself to her feet. Her legs ached from sitting; her mind buzzed as if she’d run for miles. "No more questions. For tonight."
He snorted. "You say that now."
Kaya stepped toward the door, then paused with her hand on the frame.
"For the record," she said without turning, "if I ’am’ her, I’m not planning to let some god eat me."
"I never said you would," he replied. "But gods are very bad at listening to plans."
She glanced over her shoulder, meeting his tired, sharp eyes one last time.
"Good thing," she said softly, "I’m worse."
---
The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and Kaya stood there for a moment, letting the cool night air wash over her face.
Her head buzzed with too many thoughts—reincarnation, sealed gods, beastmen mates, cycles that repeated like clockwork. The old man’s voice still echoed in her ears: ’"You might want to ask yourself, girl—why did you really wake up in this forest? And why does everyone around you keep calling you ’wife’?"’
She exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples.
Her stomach chose that exact moment to growl—loud, insistent, and entirely unsympathetic to the existential crisis she was having.
Kaya froze, then grimaced.
Right. The food the elder had offered. She’d barely touched it, too busy interrogating him and processing world-shattering revelations to actually eat more than a few bites. Now her body was reminding her—loudly—that divine destinies and ancient curses didn’t excuse skipping meals.
"Great," she muttered under her breath. "Fighting fate on an empty stomach. Perfect."
She was about to head back toward the settlement’s center, maybe find wherever they kept the communal food stores, when a voice made her freeze.
"Um... Kaya?"
She went completely still.
That voice—soft, hesitant, and far too close.
Her head snapped to the left, and there he was: Cutie, standing just a few steps away, half-hidden in the shadow of the stone wall. His white hair caught the moonlight, making him look almost ghostly. His hands were clasped nervously in front of him, and his red eyes darted between her face and the ground like he’d been caught doing something illegal.
Kaya stared at him.
"...What are you doing here?"
"I—" He hesitated, then straightened up a little, trying to look casual. "I was just... passing by."
"Passing by," she repeated flatly.
"Yes."
"At night. Outside the elder’s house. In the exact spot I’d walk out of."
His ears twitched. "...Yes?"
Kaya’s eye twitched. "You were waiting for me, weren’t you?"
Cutie’s face flushed instantly, the pink creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. "I wasn’t—okay, maybe a little—but only because I was worried!" he blurted out. "You were in there for so long, and the elder is... well, he’s kind of scary when he wants to be, and I thought maybe—"
"You thought what?" Kaya cut in, her tone sharper than she intended. "That I couldn’t handle one old man?"
"No!" Cutie’s eyes went wide. "I know you can handle anything! I just... I wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all."
She opened her mouth to snap at him again—then stopped.
Because the way he was looking at her, with that earnest, worried expression like she was the most fragile thing in the world, made something twist uncomfortably in her chest.
For a moment, she really ’looked’ at him.
Rabbit beastman. Gentle. Loyal. Attached to her for no logical reason the moment they met. Ground tribe.
The old man’s words came back, sharper this time: ’"She met a beastman—one of his own people. A ground tribe warrior. They fell in love and married in secret."’
Kaya’s stomach dropped.
No.
No, that’s ridiculous.
She wasn’t some reincarnated god-fragment destined to collect beastmen like trading cards. This was just a scared guy who happened to latch onto the first person who didn’t immediately eat him. That’s all.
Right?
"Kaya?" Cutie took a hesitant step closer, his brow furrowed. "Are you... okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
She blinked, forcing herself back to the present. "I’m fine," she said curtly, then turned and started walking.
"Wait—" He hurried after her, his footsteps light and quick. "Did the elder say something? What did he tell you?"
Kaya didn’t answer right away. She just kept walking, her boots crunching against the dirt path, her mind still spinning.
Her stomach growled again, louder this time, and she pressed a hand against it with a scowl.
Cutie’s ears perked up immediately. "Are you hungry?"
"Don’t worry about it."
"You didn’t eat much during the meeting, did you?" He moved to walk beside her, his expression shifting from worried to determined. "There’s still food being prepared near the central fire. I can—"
"I said don’t worry about it," Kaya repeated, but her conviction wavered as another pang of hunger hit her.
"You can’t save the world—or yourself—if you’re starving," Cutie said quietly, and there was something in his voice that made her actually listen. Not commanding, but... genuinely concerned. Like her wellbeing mattered more to him than anything else.
It was unsettling.
"Old stories," she said finally, answering his earlier question. "Nothing useful."
"You don’t look like it was nothing."
She shot him a glance. "What, are you a mind reader now?"
"No," Cutie said quietly. "But I know what someone looks like when they’re carrying something heavy. And you look... tired."
That stopped her.
Not because he was wrong—but because he was ’right’.
She turned to face him fully, crossing her arms over her chest. The moonlight painted his face in silver and shadow, and for a second, she just studied him: the way he stood, the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the world who mattered.
It unsettled her more than any of the elder’s revelations had.
"Let me ask you something," she said abruptly.
Cutie blinked. "Okay...?"
"If you found out someone around you was cursed," Kaya said slowly, watching his face, "what would you do?"
He frowned, clearly not expecting that question. "Cursed? Like... with bad luck?"
"Like ’cursed’ cursed," she clarified. "The kind that follows you no matter where you go. The kind that drags everyone near you into danger. The kind that doesn’t let you live a normal life, ever."
His frown deepened. "Is this... about you?"
"Just answer the question."
For a moment, Cutie was silent. Then he looked down at his hands, his fingers curling and uncurling nervously.
"I’d stay," he said quietly.
Kaya’s chest tightened. "That’s stupid."
"Maybe," he admitted, meeting her eyes again. "But it’s the truth. If someone I cared about was cursed, I wouldn’t leave them to face it alone. I’d find a way to help. Or at least... be there. So they wouldn’t have to carry it by themselves."
