Father in Heaven!
What did they just see?!
The hero Emilia—revered by countless believers across the continent of Ente Isla, holy and noble, a symbol of light and justice—
was, at this very moment, kissing a man with fiery, unabashed passion like a lovestruck girl!
Emilia was kissing so deeply, so hungrily!
And that man, right there in front of them, was shamelessly getting intimate with another woman too—mature, alluring, just as stunning!
So practiced.
So matter-of-fact.
This… this was nothing short of a catastrophic blow to their faith and understanding of the world!
Emerada felt her worldview crumbling inch by inch.
A hero… how could… how could she be so… so… debased?!
In her conservative church upbringing, this was absolutely depravity.
Her hands shook around the teacup, color flashing hot and cold across her face.
Suzuno Kamazuki's jaw was practically on the floor.
Even the arms holding her scythe had gone stiff.
The Emilia she knew was strong, composed, occasionally a bit airheaded—but always upright and just!
Who was this red-haired siren blazing with public passion, demanding a kiss in front of everyone?
And that man.
He—he could do both at once…?
Even the scythe's edge seemed to hum faintly with the chaos of its owner's emotions.
Mai Sakurajima took one look at the shattered three-views expressions on the two visitors from another world and couldn't help letting out a snort of laughter.
Her mood improved for no good reason.
Carrying the tea tray, she sauntered off, leaving space for Emilia's "fellow countrywomen" to rebuild their broken worldview.
Rei Ao, for his part, ignored the two scorching, incredulous gazes that looked like they might burn a hole through him.
He looked down at Emilia, still clinging tightly to him, blue eyes brimming with love and contentment.
With a low chuckle, he said, "Welcome home, my hero."
Emilia tilted her face up, smiling bright and blissful.
"Mm! I'm back! And I'm not leaving again!"
Emerada stared at the scene—brazenly sweet (decadent, to her)—and finally found her voice, a whisper trembling under the weight of a shattered creed:
"M-my lady hero, you really have… fallen…"
…
The air in the living room hung in a delicate, frozen hush.
Emerada and Suzuno sat on a sofa a little farther away, their expressions tangled, watching the pair by the floor-to-ceiling windows as if no one else existed.
Emilia's back was to them.
Rei Ao's arm was locked around her slim waist, holding her so close she seemed almost set into his chest.
Her long red hair, fine as woven silk, spilled a little messily across his dark loungewear.
Rei Ao's head was bowed, his chin resting against her fragrant crown—a pose both intimate and possessive.
His other hand cupped her face, thumb lazily, teasingly stroking her lips, slightly swollen and dewy.
Emilia's cheeks were painted with the fiercest dawn, scarlet and stunning. Her long, white, butterfly-wing lashes trembled hard, betraying the storm inside.
She could feel the gazes of her former companions burning into her back—Emerada's shock and disapproval, Suzuno's scrutiny and confusion. Each look pricked like a needle.
Ashamed?
Of course she was.
To be this shamelessly intimate with a man in front of a church cleric bound to holiness and a strict church warrior—this was practically a betrayal of everything the title "Hero" meant.
And yet—
That surging shame was drowned beneath something stronger, more primal, a longing that made her very soul quake.
She missed him too much.
The warmth of his fingertips.
The strength of his embrace.
The rumble of his low voice in her ear.
The exquisite shudder that came with each domineering yet gentle claim.
Every minute away from him had felt like trudging through a sun-blasted desert.
That bone-deep yearning had long since burst the dam called "reserve" and "doctrine."
The Hero's glory? Accusations of depravity?
In the moment she could touch him again, feel that he was real and here—
all of it turned feather-light, not worth a thought.
She even rose on her toes of her own accord, fitting her soft body deeper into Rei Ao's arms. She turned her face, nuzzling her burning cheek against his warm, solid chest, like a kitten finally finding its master and the comfort it craved.
When she lifted her eyes to him, they were flooded—unhidden, bottomless—with love and longing, and a hint of reckless resolve.
If that's "falling," then so be it.
So long as she could stay by his side, breathe him in, belong to him—
she would accept being a fallen hero, and savor it like something sweet.
Sensing the girl's clinging trust and that all-in, blazing devotion, a shadow of meaning flickered in Rei Ao's eyes.
"Heh…"
He let out a soft laugh, finally easing his hold on the much-teased Emilia, and turned his gaze to the two very different faces on the sofa.
"Emerada. Suzuno."
His voice slipped back into its usual languid drawl, but the authority in it brooked no argument.
"What are your plans now?"
Being called on made both women jolt ever so slightly.
They exchanged a glance, each seeing in the other eyes the same resolve settling after the confusion.
"I…"
Emerada spoke first. Her voice still carried a cleric's cool clarity, but it had shed some of its old rigidity and gained a new, level acceptance of reality.
"This world is completely different from where we came from.
"No war with demons. No orders from the Church.
"Strange, yes—but… intriguing."
She paused, as if choosing her words.
"I'd like to try staying—to fit into life here.
"Maybe… open a flower shop?"
The thought was a little abrupt; even she was surprised to hear herself say it.
But as she looked at the bright sunshine outside and the greenery along the street below, the idea rose up as naturally as breathing.