"Mom, Dad, bye~"
Watching Vivian being led by the kindergarten teacher through the gate, a weight lifted off their shoulders.
"Bye now, don’t get into any trouble."
"Remember to listen to the teacher. No weird antics."
"That’s something only *you* needed to worry about as a kid," Eira murmured to Zeming.
"Stuff like that doesn’t matter anymore. Don’t judge by how I look now—I was super obedient back then. Teachers praised me all the time."
"Why?"
"I was always asleep. Never caused anyone worry."
Eira stood crisp in her black-and-white formal suit, while Zeming lounged in casual shorts and a T-shirt. The neat-versus-sloppy contrast needed no explanation.
"So, hospital next?"
"Of course we’ll do it your way. What else could we do, my strong-willed husband?"
That stiff phrasing held zero warmth.
"Come on, my beauty. This thing’s pure magic."
Zeming grinned at his pitch-black motorcycle. That smooth, freeing feeling was just perfect.
"You really love this bike."
They sped off, the engine roaring like a symphony.
"It’s not the bike I love. It’s you clinging to my waist for safety, your body pressed against me. That feeling’s unbeatable."
The softness against his back. The tight grip locking his waist. That warmth.
Her palms’ touch, the direct contact—not just heat, but her scent too~
"If I weren’t scared of crashing, I’d have both hands locked on your waist, squeezing you to death by now," Eira whispered near Zeming’s ear.
That murderous chill wasn’t a joke. Instantly, icy shivers raced through his whole body.
"Heh heh, kidding! Just kidding!"
Seriously though, Eira’s trained arms could snap his waist clean off.
They said motorcycle rides were romantic—he felt her body heat. But the inner frost canceled out that warmth. He wasn’t ready to die yet.
.............
"This is it?"
Staring at the hospital towering over even the government building, Zeming was stunned.
"I only ever visited tiny clinics. Who knew places like this existed?"
"Stop blabbing. Park the bike and head in. Or just go play somewhere if you’d rather."
"Oh~ So bars, hotels, fancy restaurants... Wait here. I’ll be back to pick you up."
He waved, already turning to leave—but hold on.
"Ahhh... AAAHHH!! Good health’s a blessing... but my shoulder!"
A hand clamped down, crushing his shoulder with bone-grinding force. That damn sensation.
"Alright, alright. Come with me. Sticking together feels better right now."
Eira yanked him toward the entrance, dragging a nearly 170-pound man like a puppy.
"I was joking! Please don’t take it seriously!"
"Not at all. Just train with me more often."
"Honey, if you’re mad, just say it. Don’t do this."
"I’m not mad. Just worried about you."
"Worried my ass! You just want to—AAAHH! My shoulder!"
"This way."
Eira dragged him in, face icy.
——————————
Though called a doctor’s office, the entire floor held private rooms and medical suites. Zeming had never seen anything like it.
Having all this to himself? It was overwhelming.
"Eira, please undress and follow us for your checkup," said a kind-faced, petite old lady.
"Thank you, senior. I appreciate it."
"No trouble at all. Little Eira’s finally here. You’ve grown so well."
Two curvy nurses in short white doctor skirts approached. Voluptuous figures, sharp curves—it was...
Eira spun around, shooting him a vicious glare over her shoulder.
"Ahhh hahaha~~~"
Zeming whistled innocently, staring at the ceiling. *She didn’t see me. Didn’t see me. Didn’t see me.*
"Wait here quietly. Understood?"
"So this is Eira’s man? Quite the handsome lad~ But not a Supernatural Being? That’s a shame."
The old lady’s words cut deep.
"Yeah, yeah. Just a nobody. Don’t overthink it."
"Oh, seems obedient enough."
The grandma sized him up, smiling faintly.
"Obedient?" Eira snorted.
"Hey now, honey! Trust! Trust is what holds people together!"
"Quiet. Stay put. And if your eyes wander, I’ll make you regret it."
She turned and left. The nurses followed. Only the grandma remained.
"Granny, are you doing this on purpose?"
"Heh, boy, tea?"
"No, no trouble. I’ll just sit tight and wait for my wife."
"Good boy. Men who fear their wives stay out of trouble. That’s how life stays peaceful."
She settled into her chair, sipping tea from a desk mug.
"Heh, I don’t fear her. I just avoid arguing with women."
"Still afraid. Terrified, really."
"GRANNY!!!"
Being called out repeatedly was seriously annoying. What was her deal?
Bored on the sofa, Zeming wondered if she had any fun topics. Probably not.
"Even mechanical bodies need proper maintenance."
"Eh!?"
Zeming’s fists clenched. Shock froze his words.
"I said it—Cyborgs must care for themselves. Even hidden, your body can break down."
"Uh... don’t joke, Granny."
"Enough. The great Hero of old chose a teacher’s life. Yet heroes still walk among us today."
No point hiding anymore. If one secret slipped, others would follow.
"Life... is tough."
"Heh, thank you for caring for Eira all this time. It hasn’t been easy."
No malice meant he was safe. Her gentle smile and knowing eyes wouldn’t let him off lightly.
"Eira was always sick as a child. She’s been here hundreds of times. After that massive Supernatural Power burst... she’s still standing. Your constant care—you’re a good husband. I trust her with you."
*Granny, you’ll make me blush.*
"Not hard. Honestly... people change. But Eira stayed the same. She’s good."
"Unchanged? In what way?"
The grandma chuckled, intrigued.
"A Hero’s heart."
"Hmm... Heroes aren’t like they used to be. Back when I was a girl..."
She flipped open a photo on her desk: a lively woman in a white doctor’s coat, white wings sprouting from her back, mid-jump.
*Right—the Angel Goddess’s senior. Used to be called Sweetheart or something.*
"Time’s a butcher!"
"HMM?!"
"Nothing! Nothing! Just joking!!"
Watching her calm down took forever.
"Hmph. You’ve got a loose mouth, boy. Someone’ll teach you a lesson someday."
"Probably my wife."
"Heh. That’s marriage for you. My old man and I went through the same..."
"Heh, I’ll have to ask for your advice later."
"Smooth talker. But listen—protect both that Hero’s heart and Eira. Lose either one? Sorry, but you’re done for."
That was a threat.
