Choking back a sob, Mia fell into his arms. Her entire body shuddered as if she’d been supporting the world on her shoulders and had finally fallen. Both arms encircled him with frantic force, her nails digging through his shirt, holding on like he was going to disappear if she did.
Tears ran down her face in burning, unyielding torrents, seeping into his chest.
Leon caught her immediately, as if her weight was meant to be in his arms. He wrapped her tightly—protective, stabilizing, one hand against the back of her head, the other tracing slow, soothing circles down her spine. His jaw clenched, but his voice remained low and steady.
"Mia..." he breathed, his chest shuddering against her ear.
Her words shattered in splintered fragments, muffled against him.
"I–I missed you... so much... I can’t—" Her breath caught convulsively. "I need you. I need you, Leon!"
The harshness of her cry cut through him.
Leon closed his eyes, the cheek of his face pressing against her wet hair. He didn’t quiet her. Didn’t ask her to be quiet. He just held her, rigid, immovable as a statue, allowing her to empty every last drop of hurt, fatigue, and isolation into him.
Because he knew. She needed to let go more than anything else.
And she needed him to receive it.
Minutes dragged by. Ten agonizing, long minutes of her crying into his chest, her body shaking and holding him all the more tightly every time a new wave of sorrow crept forward. Leon’s arms did not falter. He held her as if nothing on earth could ever separate them.
At last—slowly—her breathing eased. The sobs faded to hiccups, then to stillness.
Leon still did not release her. His palm caressed her hair slowly, not wanting to shatter the delicate peace falling over her.
Mia’s weight shifted. With effort, she slowly dragged her head up from his chest. Her lashes stuck with tears, red and wet cheeks, parted lips as if dreading to breathe too loudly.
And when her eyes came up, she found his face above hers—calm, steady, smiling softly down at her.
The view unmanned her.
Her breath hitched, her gaze pulled helplessly into his. For an instant heartbeat, she forgot all else.
Leon released a soft sigh, tension in his chest dissolving. Relief swept through him, seeing her finally calm. Yet he caught her gazing at him, lost once more in him, her face fragile and vacant.
"Mia..." He whispered, cocking his head. He shook her shoulder lightly.
She blinked, shocked back into herself. "H-Hmm? Ah..." She let out a soft, flustered murmur, as if waking from sleep.
Leon’s smile grew stronger. "Where did you go just now, my love?"
Mia shook her head hastily, eyes flicking aside.
"N-Nothing... nowhere..."
Her struggle to regain control only made her appear more fragile.
Leon’s hand went up, fingers ruffling through her dark hair, still damp with tears. His voice went lower, gentler.
"My love... I’m sorry."
Her eyes darted back, surprise flashing over her countenance. "...Sorry? Why?"
Leon didn’t respond right away. He lifted his right hand instead, wiping the residual moistness at the outside corner of her eye away with his thumb.
"For not being here... when you needed me."
The soft apology held substance, his voice husked with remorse.
"Darling... it’s okay. I know you’re embroiled in your own struggles. Don’t... don’t bear this blame.
Leon’s chest constricted. He hissed out a breath, nearly a sigh. "Even so. it gnaws at me. Knowing you alone, when I—"
Her hand encircled before he could say more. She held his cheek tightly, her thumb tracing over his skin. Her voice was gentle but unyielding.
"Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart. Please."
For a moment, Leon could do nothing but stare at her, the darkness of her eyes, the calmness she was attempting to return to him. Finally, he nodded. "...Alright."
Silence hung between them, warm and intimate.
Leon shifted a fraction, his voice softening. "Tell me... how’s your mother?"
The words fell like a stone into still water.
Mia locked up. Only now did awareness come back—their environment, the other presence in the room. Beside them on the bed, her mother remained still, as always unresponsive.
A flush of shame crossed Mia’s cheeks, realizing shamelessly how she’d clung to Leon with her mother lying right in front of her.
"She’s... the same." Her voice went low, heavy. "Unmoved. Unanswering. But..." Her voice cracked, sadness spilling through. "Her condition has... worsened."
Leon’s eyes darted, his attention following hers to the thin form on the bed. Cassidy Starlight—once vibrant, now held captive in perpetual stillness.
Something darkened in his chest.
Mia’s mother... what are you doing to her?
His hand curled involuntarily. He didn’t tarry.
"System," he whispered within his mind.
"Yes, bro?" The smooth, infuriatingly casual voice replied.
"Can you scan Mia’s mother’s condition? Inform me what is occurring to her."
"Easy game," the system retorted smugly. "Give me a sec... Target spotted: Cassidy Starlight. Full body scan—activated."
Leon’s breath caught as faint commands flashed through his sight.
"Scan finished. Diagnosis assembled. Illness found: Blood Poison."
Leon’s eyes widened. His breath went dry in his throat.
His stomach plummeted. Of all things—it had to be that. The curse legendary in Galvia. A worse punishment than death.
Blood Poison wasn’t a disease. It was a curse—one that was only activated when a blood contract had been violated.
His face changed, growing hard, shocked and enraged at the same time.
Mia’s caught on right away. Her eyebrows furrowed together, alarm creeping into her voice.
"Darling—what’s wrong?
Leon’s jaw grew hard. He shifted to face her, his voice pressured.
"Mia. Did your mother ever make a blood contract with anyone? Do you know?"
The abrupt inquiry caught her off guard. Her lips parted, confusion spreading over her face. "W-What? Why are you asking me that?"
"Tell me, Mia." He spoke sharply, nearly desperate.
She faltered, stuttering. "N-No... I don’t know. Not that I’ve ever seen..."
Leon sucked in a loud breath through his nostrils, frustration nipping his air.
Mia gazed, bewildered. "Darling, why are you inquiring about contracts? Tell me."
His eyes softened a little, but his voice was heavy. "Because... I know what’s going on with your mother."
Her breath caught. "You... you know?"
"Yes." His eyes locked onto hers. "I do."
Mia’s world spun. Surprise pounded through her veins, her hands rushing to grab him.
"Then—tell me! Please, Leon! If you know, then don’t keep it back—tell me what’s wrong with her!
Leon met her desperate eyes. He wanted to ease her. But there was no gentle way to say it. He inhaled, then released it in a heavy sigh.
"...Mia. Calm down. Listen to me carefully."
Her lips trembled. "...Okay."
Leon’s next words fell like thunder.
"Your mother is poisoned. It’s Blood Poison... or rather, a Blood Curse."
Mia’s entire body jolted. Her hands shot up to cover her mouth, eyes flying wide. "Wh... WHAT?!"
Leon grimly nodded. "I don’t want to say it. But it’s the truth."
She sat there, shaking, for an eternity of a moment. And then. a ray of thought broke through the despair. Her eyes snapped back to him, desperate, urgent.
"Leon. If you know what it is. then tell me—can you cure her?"
Her voice shook on its knees of fragile hope, holding desperately to him as her last anchor.
Her cry cut through him, but his throat constricted. His lips opened, but no reply emerged. No yes. No no. Only silence.
And that alone was enough to say it all.
Mia’s breath caught. She looked at him, waiting, afraid of the answer already seeping in her chest.