The two of them ran for a while.

  Once they'd put enough distance behind them, they stopped and doubled over, gasping for breath. Then they looked at each other—and both burst out laughing.

  The tension had broken, and the absurdity of it all just struck them as funny.

  "We should be safe now."

  At his words, Mina's face flushed bright red, and she let go of his hand.

  "Th-thank you so much! You really saved me."

  He smiled at her, radiating an almost impossibly handsome aura.

  "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad I happened to be there."

  Mina's face reddened further, and she looked down at her feet.

  "Really... thank you."

  After that, the two of them strolled leisurely through the nighttime streets. Mina felt the danger had passed, at least for now, and allowed herself a moment of relief. They walked along a narrow sidewalk beside a two-lane road. The taillights of passing cars washed over them in brief flashes of red before fading away.

  "Um..."

  Mina looked up at his face.

  "What is it?"

  "Could you tell me your name?"

  He smiled warmly and held her gaze.

  "My name is Isarfe. I'm French."

  "F-French... I, I've never been there."

  Isarfe gave her a gentle smile.

  "So, Mina—what countries have you been to?"

  "Huh? Countries? Um, well..."

  Mina's face went scarlet.

  "Actually... I don't think I've ever been abroad."

  Her cheeks burned, and she dropped her gaze. He laughed kindly.

  "Well then, when you do take your first trip overseas, make sure France is at the top of the list."

  Isarfe grinned playfully, his round eyes sparkling with mischief. Mina nodded, her face still red.

  She desperately didn't want him to notice her blushing, but if he did happen to comment on it, she'd planned to blame the taillights.

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  While she was lost in that thought, she realized Isarfe was staring at her intently.

  "Hey, that's an unusual hair ornament you've got there."

  "Huh?"

  Mina touched her hair. She'd completely forgotten—the angel's halo was still clinging to her head.

  "Oh!"

  Her face turned crimson. Had he thought it looked ridiculous? She stole a glance up at him.

  "It's embarrassing... does it look weird?"

  Isarfe's eyes widened.

  "Not at all—it's a lovely hair ornament!"

  He said it with such a warm smile that Mina's blush deepened even further. Her heart wouldn't stop racing.

  "The, uh... the taillights are really bright tonight, huh... ha ha..."

  "Are they? That bright?"

  "Huh? Ahaha, well... maybe not that much... actually?"

  Mina was dying of embarrassment.

  Then Isarfe tapped her gently on the shoulder.

  When she looked up, he was pointing down the road ahead.

  "Look... your friend is here to pick you up."

  Mina followed his gaze—and there, standing at the far end of the road, was Arc.

  "Arc..."

  The realization that he'd come looking for her brought tears to Mina's eyes.

  Isarfe gave her a gentle push on the back. She took two or three steps forward, then turned around. He was standing there, watching her with a smile.

  "Well then—goodbye."

  Mina looked at him for a long moment.

  "Thank you so much!"

  She gave him a deep bow, then turned to face Arc.

  He was standing across the road, watching her.

  "Arc!"

  Mina ran.

  As she ran, she looked at his face. It was smeared with black soot and mud from the burned ruins.

  "I'm sorry! I've been so selfish! You've been trying to protect me this whole time, and I—!"

  Arc spread his arms wide.

  "It's okay, Mina! It's okay!"

  Mina threw herself into his chest. She sobbed openly, soaking his clothes with her tears.

  Arc held her and let her cry until she was ready to stop. After a while, when the tears finally subsided, she stepped back, and the two of them began walking side by side.

  "Come on, let's go home. You must be hungry."

  Mina looked up at Arc and gave a small nod.

  Then, as if remembering something, she turned around.

  But Isarfe was nowhere to be seen.

  Mina stopped in her tracks and stared down the road, watching the stream of cars flow past.

  "Wait a minute... Isarfe called me Mina earlier, didn't he? ...How did he know my name?"

  Arc stopped walking and looked back at her.

  "What's wrong, Mina?"

  Mina tried to piece together what had happened, but all she could recall was confusion. She shook her head.

  "No, it's nothing. I'm sure I imagined it."

  She hurried back to Arc's side.

  ◆

  Mina and Arc made their way back to the abandoned factory.

  From the shadows, a figure watched them go.

  It was Isarfe.

  He smiled quietly, then turned and left.

  At that moment, a voice echoed directly inside Isarfe's mind—the voice of the angel Canconel, who was searching for Mina.

  "Isarfe... any luck? Have you found the girl?"

  Isarfe's eyes gleamed faintly. He pressed his index finger to his forehead and closed his eyes—the posture for sending a telepathic message.

  "Lord Canconel... I haven't found her yet."

  "You haven't?"

  "My apologies... the familiar traveling with her is likely deploying some form of powerful concealment magic. I've been tracing residual magical signatures on foot through the city streets..."

  "Hmm, that must be exhausting. For a tracking specialist of your caliber to struggle like this... we've got a real problem on our hands. It won't be easy, but keep up the search."

  "Yes... understood."

  "I'm counting on you."

  With that, Canconel cut the link.

  Isarfe let out a long breath, then turned to look back at the abandoned factory.

  "Still... Mina, what exactly are you? Why do you wear an angel's halo as a hair ornament? And what does Lord Seraphim intend to do with you?"

  He raised his arms and spun gracefully, as if performing a dance.

  As he did, a halo materialized above his head, and great white wings unfurled from his back.

  Isarfe let out a soft laugh.

  "Mina... what an interesting girl. I do apologize to Lord Canconel, but I think I'll let her run free a little longer—and observe what everyone is really after."

  He spread his white wings wide and streaked away into the night sky as a single beam of light.