Chapter 195: Headpat Kill

  "Eh?" Gabriel blinked, her golden eyes narrowing suspiciously. The lazy angel’s posture stiffened, wings twitching slightly. "What do you think you’re doing?"

  Kouya tilted his head with mild amusement. "I was just asking because you hadn’t eaten yet," he said, tugging lightly at the corner of his mouth. "Forget it — I’ll go alone."

  "Hmph. Who said I’m not coming? You’re paying, so you’re responsible for this morning!" Gabriel huffed dramatically, cheeks puffing out as she thrust a trash bag into his hands. "Hold this."

  'Hey, hey! Too much!'

  'She really thinks she’s royalty or something? Expecting me to hold her garbage — unbelievable!'

  "Carry it yourself," Kouya muttered with an exasperated sigh.

  Gabriel made a tiny, annoyed sound, clicked her tongue, and turned around to lock the door before following him down the stairs. As they descended, she continued to grumble in that lazy, slightly nasally voice. "You dare do something so gross this morning — later I’ll eat everything expensive and make you broke!" Her tail of hair bounced as she stomped each step.

  ...

  The small food street was alive with color. Neon lights flickered above little restaurants; steam drifted from stalls selling grilled skewers, ramen, and takoyaki. The mingling scents of soy, oil, and spice filled the night air.

  Kouya and Gabriel found a modest restaurant tucked in a corner and took a table by the window.

  Kouya ordered chicken curry rice and a plate of dumplings. Passing the menu across, he said, "Your turn."

  Gabriel’s expression was smug. She made a show of looking through the menu for several seconds before pointing lazily. "Ochazuke and tomato chicken cutlet." Her tone was defiant, but the choices were modest.

  For all her bluster about eating him into poverty, she was still the type who ordered comfort food.

  While they waited for their meal, Gabriel rested her chin on her hand, gazing at Kouya with bored curiosity. "So... where’d you run off to today?"

  "The shrine," he replied simply, glancing out the window.

  "Tch." Gabriel’s cheeks puffed out. "I wanted you to fix my computer! You disappeared the whole day!"

  'A blue screen again, no doubt. Why not just bring it to a repair shop like a normal person?'

  Kouya sighed inwardly. 'She’d probably start preaching about holy game time again.'

  "You’re sentenced to death!" she suddenly declared, pointing a finger dramatically at him.

  Kouya raised an eyebrow. "That’s how you pass judgment now? What’s your qualification, fallen judge of heaven?"

  She smirked. "Judge Gabriel, defender of free Wi-Fi."

  He groaned. This angel was hopeless.

  "Is your computer fixed now, then?" he asked.

  "Obviously," she replied proudly. "I’d die without my games."

  Kouya gave a flat look. "You make it sound like a terminal illness."

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "It is! I have a disease that kills me if I stay away from the computer too long."

  For once, Kouya was speechless. Honestly, there might be truth in that — he had heard of 'internet addiction syndrome.' The symptoms matched perfectly: glassy eyes, loss of purpose, wandering like a zombie muttering 'brains'... or in her case, 'logins.'

  Not long after, their food arrived.

  "Ohh, dumplings! They look tasty. I’ve never had them before — give me one!" Gabriel’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed a spoon and snatched one up before Kouya could stop her.

  She took a bite and her eyes lit up. "Delicious! I want half!"

  Kouya stared, expression blank. 'Then order another serving. Why does mine taste better just because it’s mine?'

  He sighed but said nothing, letting her steal one more. The rest of the meal went smoothly. By the time he finished, she was still nibbling her way through half her plate, moving at a sloth’s pace.

  Gabriel looked at the remaining tomato cutlet, frowned, and then pushed it across the table. "You eat it. They say people who waste food get pimples. If I get pimples, I’ll destroy the world."

  Kouya blinked. "You really shouldn’t throw around world-ending threats like that."

  "Whatever," she muttered, folding her arms. "Hurry up and eat. I’ve got games waiting."

  ...

  When they finally left, the night had deepened. Kouya paid the bill, and the two of them strolled along the quiet street. The air was cool; the moon hung like a thin hook above the roofs, its silver light spilling across the pavement.

  For once, Gabriel wasn’t talking. She walked beside him with her hands behind her back, kicking small pebbles, her wings faintly twitching under her sweater.

  The silence was unusual.

  Then suddenly she spoke. "Hey. Doesn’t it feel like something’s following us?"

  Kouya turned his head and spotted a scrawny stray dog padding after them. Its fur was patchy, ribs showing through the skin. When they stopped, the dog hesitated, then sat, tail wagging uncertainly as it looked up at them with big, wet eyes.

  A stray — injured, hungry, and hopeful.

  Gabriel frowned. "Tch, just a dog."

  But after a few steps, she stopped again, her brow furrowing in conflict. She sighed sharply and turned to Kouya. "Go buy some sausages from the convenience store."

  "What for?" he asked, though he already suspected.

  "Less talking, more buying." She shoved a bill into his hand. "Now go."

  Kouya returned a few minutes later, the small plastic bag crinkling in his grip. The scene before him made him pause.

  The dog was now sitting calmly at Gabriel’s feet, tail wagging gently. The fear in its eyes was gone, replaced by warmth. Meanwhile, beads of sweat glistened on Gabriel’s forehead, her hand faintly glowing from residual divine power.

  'So that was why she made me leave. Healing magic. You hypocritical little angel — pretending to be lazy, yet secretly helping strays.'

  He approached quietly. "Here."

  Gabriel took the sausages and knelt, tearing one open. The little dog barked softly, then devoured it in joy. When it finished, Gabriel smiled faintly — a soft, fleeting smile he rarely saw on her. "All done."

  The dog wagged its tail harder, then finally trotted away into the shadows.

  "What are you staring at!?" she barked suddenly, noticing his gaze. The warmth vanished as quickly as it came. She straightened, her usual lazy scowl returning. "Look at me again and I’ll hit you!"

  Kouya chuckled under his breath. "Let’s go."

  They walked in silence for a while. The night air was crisp, scented with distant blossoms. Then Gabriel’s voice came again, quieter now. "Wait... hold up."

  He stopped. "What is it?"

  Gabriel caught up and tugged gently at his sleeve. Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "I’m full... and a little tired."

  Kouya could see the truth behind the excuse. Healing took energy — and in this low-magic world, it drained her much more than she’d admit. Her eyes wavered, cheeks flushed, wings twitching faintly from fatigue.

  He paused, then slowly reached out and rested his hand on her head. His palm brushed her soft hair, and he said, in a calm, approving tone, "You did well."

  For a moment, Gabriel froze. The tips of her ears turned red. Then her mind caught up to what happened.

  Her expression darkened. "You... you bastard! How dare you pat my head!"

  She swung her fist with surprising speed, shouting, "Die!"

  Kouya dodged back half a step, laughing softly. "Wasn’t this supposed to make you happy?"

  "It makes me want to kill you!" she barked.

  He sighed. "So much for headpats increasing affection."

  "If I stay short forever, it’s your fault!" she snapped.

  Kouya arched a brow. "Pretty sure that’s not how biology works."

  Gabriel crossed her arms stubbornly, glaring. The sight of her tiny frame, puffed cheeks, and gleaming eyes almost made him laugh. He swallowed it down.

  He finally caught her swinging fist midair, holding it gently but firmly. "Alright, enough. Let’s go home."

  "Let me go!"

  "No."

  "You don’t believe I’ll hit you?!"

  "Not even a little."

  Their voices carried faintly in the quiet night, blending with the soft hum of the streetlamps. The cool wind brushed past, rustling their hair. Side by side, they walked back toward the apartment — one fuming and the other quietly smiling.