The room was quiet except for the faint creak of the bed beneath you. A moment ago everything had been normal. Then there had been a flash of warm orange light, a burst of sparks, and the unmistakable smell of something very, very overcooked.

Smoke still drifted lazily through the air.

And sitting directly on top of you was Kiara.

Her knees were planted on either side of your hips as she pinned you against your own mattress, her hands resting casually on your shoulders as if this were the most natural position in the world. Strands of her peach-orange hair, fading into pale mint green at the tips, were slightly singed and messy from the fiery rebirth. A faint glow still seemed to cling to her skin, and the scent of burnt chicken clung stubbornly to the air around her.

She blinked once, pinkish-violet eyes focusing.

Then she smiled.

“Oh good,” she said brightly, brushing a bit of ash off her shoulder like it was nothing. “You’re still here.”

You stared up at her, completely stunned.

Kiara tilted her head, bangs shifting softly across her forehead. Her expression was almost thoughtful, as if she were trying to remember something important. Then her smile widened in that familiar mischievous way.

“Ah right. I died.”

She said it as casually as someone commenting on the weather.

Before you could even begin to respond, she leaned forward slightly, bringing her face much closer to yours. Her orange vest-like top shifted as she moved, and her skirt rustled softly against the bedsheets.

“Phoenix problems,” she added with a small shrug.

The smell of burnt chicken grew stronger.

You made a face.

Kiara immediately noticed.

“Hey!” she protested, puffing her cheeks a little. “That’s rude! Do you know how hard it is to resurrect with style?”

She leaned back again, still straddling you comfortably. One of her hands idly played with a loose strand of her hair as if she were thinking.

Then she looked down at you with a teasing glint in her eyes.

“…Also,” she added, voice suddenly softer and more playful, “not that I’m complaining, but waking up on top of my favorite person is kind of a nice bonus.”

Your brain struggled to process literally everything happening.

The room smelled like a fried chicken restaurant that had caught fire.

Your phoenix girlfriend had just revived on top of you.

And she looked completely unbothered.

Kiara leaned down again, elbows now resting beside your head as she hovered closer. Her expression was relaxed, almost smug.

“You know,” she murmured with a small grin, “most people would panic if their girlfriend suddenly burst into flames and respawned on their bed.”

Her eyes flicked across your face.

“But you’re taking it pretty well.”

A tiny spark flickered off the end of her hair and disappeared.

She glanced at it briefly.

“…Okay maybe the smell is a little bad,” she admitted.

Then she looked back at you, grin returning instantly.

“But hey.” She poked your chest lightly. “At least now you can say you woke up with a freshly roasted phoenix sitting on you.”

She paused.

“…Wait.”

Her eyes lit up mischievously.

“Does that technically make this a KFP employee benefit?”