One Week After Reunion
Their schedules were chaos.
Nana had her art classes at Skyheaven Academy—advanced courses that demanded hours of studio time, gallery exhibitions to prepare for, a senior project that would determine her graduation.
Her parents, thrilled that she'd finally
"moved past her fantasy obsession," had enrolled her in additional workshops with renowned artists.
Xavier had his graduate studies at Linkon University—Ancient History and Mythology classes that ironically focused on the very kingdoms he'd once ruled, thesis research that required endless library hours, teaching assistant duties that paid his tuition.
They lived in different worlds, literally—Nana five hundred meters above in the floating paradise of Skyheaven, Xavier in a cramped apartment in the lower city's student district.
But they made it work.
Every week, without fail, they found time. Sometimes it was just a few hours snatched between classes. Sometimes a full day if their schedules aligned. But they never went more than seven days without seeing each other.
They'd been apart for sixty years.
They weren't about to waste a single moment now.
Tonight was a Wednesday—both had managed to clear their evening schedules. Nana had taken the transit down from Skyheaven, her heart racing with anticipation the entire ride.
Xavier had picked her up at the station in his beat-up old car (a gift from his parents when he'd turned twenty, practical but barely functional), and driven them to his favorite spot in the city.
A lake on the outskirts of Linkon, far enough from the urban center that the stars were visible. A small park with an old oak tree that reminded them both of Philos.
Quiet. Peaceful. Perfect.
"I brought supplies,"
Xavier said, pulling a bag from his trunk. "Steaming buns from that stall you like. The elderly woman asked about you again. She said you haven't visited in weeks."
"I've been busy"
Nana protested, but she was already reaching for the bag, peeking inside at the warm buns.
"Did you get—"
"Red bean paste. Obviously. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I forgot your favorite?"
Nana's heart skipped at the word.
Boyfriend. Such a mundane term for what they were—souls bound across five lifetimes, loves that had transcended death and rebirth and cosmic distances. But also perfectly fitting. Because in this life, in this moment, that's what they were. Just a young couple on a date.
Normal. Beautifully, wonderfully normal.
"And bubble tea,"
Xavier added, pulling out two cups.
"Taro milk tea, less ice, extra pearls."
"You remembered!"
"Starlight, I remember everything about you. Including your terrible habit of chewing pearls too loudly."
"I do not—"
Nana stopped as Xavier handed her one cup.
"Wait. There's only one straw."
Xavier's expression was perfectly innocent.
"The stall only gave me one. We'll have to share."
Nana narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Xavier. There are two cups. Why would they only give you one straw?"
"Budget cuts? Environmental consciousness? Who can say?"
Xavier was already walking toward their spot under the oak tree, hiding his smile.
"Come on, Starlight. Food's getting cold."
Nana followed, shaking her head but smiling. Xavier was terrible at being subtle. She'd seen the extra straw in his pocket—he'd deliberately kept only one to force them to share.
Not that she minded.
They settled under the oak tree, Nana automatically leaning back against Xavier's chest as he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame.
This position—this exact configuration of their bodies—was as familiar as breathing.
They'd sat like this in Philos under a different oak tree. In the Valley Kingdom watching lanterns. In the Qing Dynasty under palace gardens.
Some things never changed across lifetimes.
"Here,"
Xavier held the bubble tea between them, angling the straw toward Nana.
"You first."
Nana took a sip, the sweet taro flavor perfect as always. Then Xavier took his turn, and they fell into an easy rhythm—sharing the drink, sharing the buns, watching stars emerge in the darkening sky.
"This is nice,"
Nana said softly, her head resting on Xavier's shoulder.
"Just... existing together. No wanderers, no curses, no cosmic forces trying to separate us. Just us."
Just us,"
Xavier agreed, his arms tightening slightly.
"I spent a century dreaming of moments like this. Normal dates. Peaceful evenings. Growing old together without tragedy looming."
"Did you—" Nana hesitated, then asked the question that had been bothering her.
"Did you ever want to give up? Across all those years, all those lifetimes—did you ever think about just... stopping? Not searching for me anymore?"
Xavier was quiet for a long moment.
When he spoke, his voice was honest.
"Yes. After Luna, after watching you die the first time in my arms—I thought about it. Thought maybe if I just let you go, if I stopped searching, the pain would be less. That maybe I could exist as a star forever and eventually forget."
Nana's chest tightened.
"But you didn't?"
"No. Because even one second with you—even one moment of seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, watching you climb trees and fall into my life—was worth decades of grief. Every lifetime, no matter how short, was worth the centuries of waiting between them."
Xavier pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"I couldn't give up because giving up meant a universe without you. And a universe without you isn't worth existing in."
Nana was crying now, tears falling silently. Not sad tears—overwhelmed tears. Grateful tears. Tears for the man who'd loved her so completely across centuries that he'd sacrificed heaven itself just to keep searching.
"Hey," Xavier turned her face gently, his thumb brushing away her tears.
"Why are you crying?"
"Because it's unbearable," Nana sobbed. "Knowing what you went through. Knowing you watched me die four times. Knowing you waited centuries between my rebirths. And then—"
Her voice broke.
"And then I had to watch YOU die. Had to watch you fade into stardust in my arms. Had to spend sixty years looking up at a star I could never reach."
"But we reached each other," Xavier said softly. "Eventually. Finally. We found our way back, Starlight. That's what matters."
"I couldn't sleep after you died,"
Nana admitted. "Couldn't eat. Couldn't function. Everything reminded me of you. The steaming bun stall, the bubble tea shop, the color blue—" She laughed wetly. "I saw a blue car once and had to stop walking because it made me think of your eyes."
Xavier's expression cracked with empathy.
"I know. I did the same thing. Every short girl with auburn hair made my heart stop. Every laugh that sounded remotely like yours. I was seeing you everywhere, and each time I realized it wasn't you, it hurt a little more"
They held each other tighter, both crying now for the pain they'd endured, the years they'd lost, the grief they'd carried.
"No more," Xavier said fiercely. "No more separation. No more watching each other die. No more cosmic curses or impossible distances. This lifetime, we stay together."
"Forever?" Nana asked, her voice small.
"Forever."
Xavier cupped her face, made her look at him. His blue eyes were serious, determined, full of love that had survived everything the universe could throw at it.
"Nana—my Starlight—when you graduate from art college, I'm marrying you. We're going to buy a house together. Build the family we lost in the Qing Dynasty. Grow old together. I'm going to love you through every mundane moment, every boring Tuesday, every argument over whose turn it is to do dishes."
Nana laughed through her tears.
"That's the least romantic proposal ever."
"It's not a proposal. It's a statement of fact. A promise. A future written in certainty instead of hope."
Xavier smiled.
"The romantic proposal comes later. With a ring and everything. But I need you to know—I need you to understand—that this time, we get our happy ending. We get to be boring and domestic and normal. We get to have everything."
"Everything,"
Nana repeated, then kissed him. Soft and sweet and full of promise.
When they broke apart, Nana noticed movement in the corner of her eye.
"Xavier, look."
Fireflies. Dozens of them, emerging from the bushes near the lake, their bioluminescent lights creating a magical display in the gathering darkness.
Xavier's expression softened with memory and wonder.
"Fireflies. Real ones, not conjured by light evol."
"Just like Philos," Nana breathed. "Remember? We used to catch them in the forest. You'd help me reach the high branches, and I'd always nearly fall—"
"And I'd always catch you." Xavier smiled. "Some things never change."
Nana was already up, moving toward the fireflies with that same reckless enthusiasm she'd had at twelve years old. She reached out, trying to catch one, laughing when it danced just beyond her fingertips.
Xavier watched with an expression of pure adoration. His Starlight, chasing fireflies like she'd done in four previous lifetimes, still managing to be graceful and clumsy simultaneously.
She reminded him of Luna—the first time she'd died in his arms, asking to see fireflies one last time. He'd created them with his light evol because she'd wanted that moment of beauty before the end.
Now, sixty years later, natural fireflies danced around her. And this time, there would be no tragic ending. Just Nana, alive and laughing, experiencing joy without the shadow of death looming.
"I can't catch them!" Nana called, still chasing. "They're too fast!"
"Maybe they don't want to be caught," Xavier suggested. "Maybe they're just there to be beautiful."
Nana stopped, turned to him with that bright smile that had captivated him across five lifetimes. "Like you?"
"I let you catch me," Xavier countered.
"Did you? Or did I catch you first? I seem to remember falling out of a tree into your life."
"Fair point."
They stayed until the fireflies disappeared, until Nana was yawning and leaning heavily against Xavier's shoulder. He scooped her up effortlessly—one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back—and carried her back to his car.
"I can walk,"
Nana protested sleepily.
"I know. But I like carrying you. Indulge me."
"You carried me in Philos. And the Valley Kingdom. And the Qing Dynasty."
"And in 2034, and now in 2094. It's tradition at this point."
Xavier settled her into the passenger seat, buckled her seatbelt carefully.
"Sleep if you want. I'll wake you when we reach Skyheaven."
Nana was already drifting off, her head lolling against the window. Xavier drove carefully through the quiet streets, one hand on the wheel, the other reaching across to hold hers.
The drive to Skyheaven took thirty minutes.
Xavier had made this trip enough times now that he knew every turn, every shortcut. Knew which entrance had the least security scrutiny (they'd questioned why a lower-city student was visiting so frequently until Nana had provided clearance papers).
He parked in the visitor area, debated waking Nana but decided to carry her instead. She weighed nothing—had always been small and light, even with the aether core that had once made her powerful enough to threaten her own life.
The security guard recognized him now, just nodded as Xavier carried his sleeping girlfriend toward the residential towers.
"Evening, Mr. Xavier. Miss Nana fall asleep on you again?"
"She had a long day."
"She's lucky to have you. Most young men wouldn't be so patient."
If only you knew, Xavier thought. I've waited a century for her. Carrying her home is nothing.
He took the elevator to the penthouse level where the Wang family resided.
Their apartment was absurdly luxurious—floor-to-ceiling windows with views of the entire city, furniture that probably cost more than Xavier's yearly tuition, art pieces that
Nana had created hanging on every wall.
Xavier had his own access code now. Nana's parents had given it to him after the third time he'd brought their daughter home asleep.
He let himself in quietly, headed straight for Nana's room. Her space was a beautiful chaos—art supplies scattered everywhere, canvases in various stages of completion, sketches pinned to every wall. And on her desk, prominently displayed, a copy of "Philos: When the Crown Star Landed on Earth."The book she'd written in her previous life.
The story of their love across lifetimes. Xavier had read it cover to cover three times now, crying through most of it.
He laid Nana carefully on her bed, removed her shoes, pulled a blanket over her. She mumbled something in her sleep, reached for him automatically.
Xavier sat on the edge of the bed, held her hand until she settled. Then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"Goodnight, Starlight. Sleep well. I'll see you next week."
"Xavier?"
He turned to find Nana's mother standing in the doorway, her expression soft. Mrs. Wang was an elegant woman in her fifties, sharp and intelligent—head of a tech empire, but also warm when it came to her daughter.
"Mrs. Wang. I'm sorry, I know it's late—"
"It's fine." She smiled. "You know you're always welcome here. Nana's been... happier since she met you. More grounded. We were worried about her for a while, with her talking about finding a 'crown star prince' and searching the city desperately. We thought she was having some kind of breakdown."
"She wasn't," Xavier said quietly. "She was just looking for me."
"So it seems." Mrs. Wang studied him curiously.
"You're an unusual young man, Xavier. Mysterious. Old-fashioned in some ways. The way you look at Nana—" She paused.
"My husband jokes that you look at her like she's the center of the universe. Like nothing else exists when she's in the room."
"Because for me, nothing else does," Xavier admitted. "Your daughter is—" He struggled for words that wouldn't sound insane. "She's everything. Has been for longer than you could imagine."
Mrs. Wang's expression turned knowing.
"You believe in that book, don't you? The one Nana keeps reading. About the Crown Star and his love across lifetimes."
Xavier's hand moved unconsciously to his palm, where the crown mark pulsed faintly beneath his glove. "I don't just believe in it, Mrs. Wang. I lived it."
She should have laughed. Should have dismissed it as romantic nonsense. But something in Xavier's eyes—those blue eyes that held galaxies, that looked ancient despite his youth—made her hesitate.
"Take care of her," Mrs. Wang said finally. "Whatever you two are—whatever story you're living—just... take care of my daughter. She's been through enough."
"I will," Xavier promised. "For the rest of my life, I'll take care of her."
He left the penthouse, drove home through empty streets, his mind already on next week's date.
They'd talked about visiting the university library together—Nana wanted to see where Xavier spent most of his time, and Xavier wanted to show her his research.Maybe he'd even show her his thesis topic: "The Historical Basis of Philos Mythology—Evidence for a Lost Ancient Civilization."
Evidence that happened to include his own memories, documented with painful accuracy.
Xavier smiled as he pulled into his apartment building's parking lot.
His life was strange—a reborn star pretending to be a graduate student, dating the girl he'd loved across five lifetimes, living in a cramped apartment while his girlfriend resided in a floating palace.
But it was his life. His second chance. His opportunity to finally do things right.
And this time—this time they were going to get their happy ending.
No curses. No cosmic forces. No tragedy.
Just love. Just life. Just two souls who'd finally found their way home to each other.
Xavier looked up at the sky as he walked to his apartment, found the empty space where he used to exist as a star.
That part of him was gone forever—he'd traded it willingly, gladly.
But he didn't regret it. Not for a second.
Because down here, on Earth, in a world of fireflies and bubble tea and carrying his sleepy girlfriend home—
Down here, he had everything that mattered.
He had his Starlight.
And this time, he got to keep her.
.
.
.
.
.
⭐⭐⭐
To be continued __