Spring arrived softly in Halewood.
The snow melted into streams that giggled through the gutters.Cherry blossoms bloomed early that year, dancing in the breeze like pink confetti.The sky turned gentle blue, the kind that made you want to lie on the grass and watch clouds drift for hours.
It was the season of the Elementary Art Festival.
And for Class 1-B, that meant finger paints, paper lanterns, glitter explosions, and one critical rule:
Each student would choose a partner to create their "dream world."
Partners for the Festival
At five years old, most children still chose partners randomly—based on favorite snacks or who shared their crayons.
But not Lysia.
She walked straight to Caelum the moment the teacher finished her sentence, grabbed his hand boldly, and declared in front of everyone:
"He's my partner. No one else can have him."
Caelum, sitting calmly with a sharpened crayon in hand, simply nodded.
"I accept."
The other students blinked. A few pouted.
But Miss Aluna just chuckled and wrote their names together on the board again, for what felt like the tenth time this month.
Painting Their Dream World
For three days straight, they worked on their painting.
In the corner of the classroom, surrounded by old newspapers, paint bottles, and pastel footprints, they created something strange and beautiful.
Lysia painted with wild swirls — blue stars, candy-colored rivers, and floating houses made of books.
Caelum painted precise shapes and golden lines — gears that turned, trees shaped like telescopes, and skies filled with circuitry woven like constellations.
Together, it looked like a world between science and dreams.
"I want to live here," Lysia said on the third day, cheeks dotted with green paint.
"Then I'll build it for you," Caelum replied, wiping a smudge off her cheek with his sleeve.
The Picnic Under the Cherry Blossoms
On the festival day, after hanging their painting in the hallway, their parents took pictures. Everyone clapped. Cookies were shared.
Later, beneath a large cherry blossom tree just outside the schoolyard, Caelum and Lysia sat side by side, nibbling on sandwiches and watching petals fall like pink snow.
Lysia leaned her head on his shoulder.She was still so small, barely reaching his shoulder even when seated.
They were just five years old.Tiny hands. Tiny feet.And a bond deeper than the ocean.
Lysia looked up at him suddenly.
"Cael?"
"Yes?"
"You know how people say they have 'favorites'?"
He nodded slowly.
She turned, holding her sandwich between her palms, eyes impossibly serious.
"Like favorite colors… or favorite animals… or favorite food."
"Mm-hmm."
"Well…" she whispered, cheeks suddenly redder than strawberries. "You're my favorite. Out of everything."
His eyes widened. Just a little.
She poked her finger against his chest. "You're my favorite person in the whole world."
There was no thunder.
No system alert.
No divine presence.
Just a heartbeat—soft and warm—in the chest of a boy who had once destroyed gods.
And for the first time in countless years…
Caelum felt shy.
"…Thank you," he said, his voice quieter than usual.
Lysia smiled. "Don't forget, okay?"
"I won't."
And he never would.
A Gentle Evening
That evening, Caelum sat on the porch steps of his home, hugging his knees.
Above him, the sky turned orange and purple.
He was five.
Just five.
But in his mind lived ages.
And yet—
That moment under the tree, when she'd called him her favorite…
It felt more real than any throne he had shattered.
More powerful than any curse he'd broken.
And perhaps, more than anything, it made him feel alive.
System Log — Emotional Surge Detected
[GENESIS CORE SYSTEM — OBSERVER MODE]— Emotional Spike: Type: [Euphoria]— Trigger: [Verbal Affection from Subject LYSIA GREY]— Analysis: 5-Year-Old Human Interaction— Note: This feeling is classified as "Happiness."
"Creator, you smiled for 4.8 seconds longer than usual."
Caelum glanced at the quiet HUD in his vision.
"…I did, didn't I?"