Damage steadied himself, still unsure on what to do. "Giona, I know it scares you, and I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt you. I promise.”

  She whimpered but didn’t respond, still hiding her face in his chest.

  Dama hesitated. He couldn’t bring himself to throw the marionette away, but he also couldn’t ignore Giona’s fear. After a moment of thought, he decided on a compromise. He’d keep the marionette, but he’d find a way to store it somewhere Giona wouldn’t have to see it, or even think about it.

  Turning to Mumu, he gave a commanding nod and gestured over to the marionette. Mumu, as reliable and in-sync with Dama as ever, got the message, and stashed the marionette away.

  Now that the marionette was hidden, Giona finally began to relax completely. Her breathing steadied, and she leaned back against the bedframe, her small frame no longer trembling. Dama sat beside her, watching as the tension seemed to melt away from her body.

  It was then that he noticed the book lying on the bed beside her—Tales of the Cataclysm. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Were you reading this?”

  Giona’s face lit up with excitement. She nodded enthusiastically, her big blue eyes sparkling as she grabbed the book and placed it in Dama’s lap. “Dama!” She exclaimed, her tone clear—it was a request. She wanted him to read it to her.

  Dama blinked, caught off guard by her sudden eagerness. “Oh, uh…” He hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt. “I can’t right now, Giona. I…I have something I need to do first.”

  The light in Giona’s face dimmed almost immediately. Her bottom lip pushed out into a pout, her head lowering as her fingers began to fidget with the hem of her sleeve. Her expression was a picture of disappointment, and Dama’s heart sank.

  “Wait, wait!” Dama stammered, panic creeping into his voice. “I swear I’ll read it to you! Just…let me finish something really quick, okay?”

  Giona tilted her head, her pout still present, but after a moment, she nodded slowly. She didn’t fully understand why Dama couldn’t read to her now, but his reassurance seemed enough for her to comply.

  Relieved, Dama sighed, giving her a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Giona. I promise, just a little bit.” He patted her head lightly, then stood up from the bed.

  Reaching into his pocket, Dama pulled out the folded papers Tsubasa had given him earlier. As he made his way to the desk, he intended to go over them one last time before calling it a night. But when he looked up, he froze mid-step.

  The desk was missing something—something crucial. His most treasured possession wasn’t where it should have been. The framed picture of his family was gone.

  “Wait, where is it...!?” he said, his voice rising with alarm. Dama hurried to the desk, frantically scanning the surface and the floor around it. “No, no, no! It was right here!”

  He crouched down, checking under the desk, his heart pounding in his chest. His breathing grew shallow as dread clawed at him. “Where did it go!?” he exclaimed, half to himself and half as a desperate question to the gods above.

  Hearing the panic in Dama’s voice, Giona looked up. She watched as he darted around, clearly upset and searching for something. Her small hands clutched the blanket tightly as she listened to his frantic murmurs, a bit scared.

  Then it hit her—the picture.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Earlier, Nini had given it to her. Giona had taken it, and after looking at it for awhile, placed it on the floor beside the bed, where it had slipped out of view. She glanced over the edge of the bed, spotting the frame resting just where she’d left it.

  Understanding what Dama was looking for, Giona softly called out, “Dama…” Her voice was gentle, catching his attention.

  Dama turned quickly, his eyes wide with worry. He saw Giona pointing to the floor by the bed, and his gaze followed her finger. When he spotted the frame, relief washed over him like a tidal wave.

  “Oh, thank the gods…” he muttered, rushing over and picking up the picture. Holding it in his hand, he let out a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as the tension left his body. He glanced back at Giona, who watched him with a curious yet apologetic expression.

  Dama gave her a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Giona,” he said softly, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost this.”

  Giona tilted her head, her blue eyes filled with questions, but she didn’t press. Instead, she simply nodded, glad she could help.

  But, and to her further confusion, Dama would just stand there, staring at the picture with a warm smile.

  Looking at the picture herself, Giona would let her curiosity flow, mainly in an attempt to snap Dama back. She pointed at the picture, her small finger landing on the younger Dama within the frame. A soft giggle escaped her lips as she looked at him and then back at the real Dama. “Dama!” She said playfully, her voice filled with innocent delight.

  Her laughter, however, began to fade as she took in Dama’s expression. His face had changed, the warmth of his earlier smile now replaced by something distant and heavy.

  Dama’s lips shook with a weak, bittersweet smile, lacking the joy it usually carried.

  His shoulders, already tired from the day, now seemed burdened by something much deeper.

  It was his eyes that struck her the most. His eyes were hidden beneath the shadow of his bangs, making it difficult to read him fully. Focusing further, she could see the light in them, the brightness that always reassured her and made her feel safe, had dimmed. It wasn’t gone entirely, but it flickered like a fragile candle, threatening to go out.

  For the first time, Giona saw something she never imagined she would see in Dama. It was as if the weight he carried every day had slipped through the cracks in his carefully guarded demeanor, exposing the part of him he kept hidden from her—from everybody.

  Her smile disappeared, replaced by a look of concern. She reached out hesitantly, her small hand brushing against his arm as she whispered, “Dama…?”

  Dama, hearing Giona's soft voice, snapped back to reality, the memories of the day the picture was made fading into the present. He blinked, shaking off the heaviness in his heart as best he could.

  “S-Sorry... I'm sorry, Giona...” he said gently, his voice warm yet tinged with regret. “Sorry if I scared you.” He reached out and ruffled her hair, trying to reassure her. “And…thank you for helping me find this. It’s really important to me.”

  As Mumu and Nini made their way over, Giona seemed to have another thought strike her. She tilted her head slightly, pointing at the picture again. This time, her tone curious as she asked, “Mumu? Nini?”

  Dama paused, his brow furrowing for a moment as he tried to piece together what she was asking. Realization dawned on him, and his heart sank a little. She was asking where Mumu and Nini were in the picture.

  He forced a brighter smile onto his face, masking the sadness that crept back in. “Oh, if you’re asking where Mumu and Nini are…well, they didn’t exist yet. Or…I guess they did..." He sighed, "It’s complicated.”

  Giona stared at him, nodding, but her attention wasn’t fully on his words. Instead, it was fixed on his smile. Something about it seemed off to her. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why, but she knew it wasn’t real. It reminded her of the fake smiles worn by the men in black cloaks from her past, smiles they used to persuade her to trust them.

  But there was a difference, one she could feel deep in her heart. Dama’s fake smile wasn’t hiding malicious intent—it was hiding sadness.

  Before she could say anything else, Dama stood up, turning toward his desk. “Just sit tight for a little bit, okay?” he said over his shoulder, his voice trying to sound chipper.

  Giona watched him walk away, uneasiness settling in her chest. Her gaze shifted from Dama’s back to Mumu and Nini, who had stopped near the bed.

  Her heart sank further when she saw them, or rather, their stitched smiles. Usually cheerful and comforting, their smiles were now upside down...

  -

  Next: (Extra Chapter 16) New Morning Routine