Aya sat cross-legged on the rooftop, her legs swinging over the edge as she stared up at the night sky. The city below buzzed with life, but up here, it was peaceful. Beside her, Bram remained motionless, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he took in the sight.

"You know," Aya mused, breaking the silence, "for someone who acts all high and mighty, you sure do sulk a lot."

Bram scoffed, shifting slightly in his coffin. "I do not sulk, child. I simply contemplate the cruel fate that has befallen me—reduced to a mere weapon, forced to rely on a stubborn little girl for assistance."

Aya grinned. "You mean saved by a stubborn little girl."

Bram huffed, turning his gaze away. "Hmph. As if I'd ever admit to such a thing."

Aya chuckled, leaning back on her hands. The stars twinkled above them, their light soft and distant. "Hey, Bram... if you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?"

Bram was silent for a moment. Then, in a voice softer than usual, he answered, "Somewhere untouched by war. A place where the moonlight is pure and the air does not reek of blood."

Aya's playful expression softened. "That sounds nice. Maybe one day, we’ll find a place like that."

Bram glanced at her, observing the determination in her eyes. He had seen centuries of betrayal, bloodshed, and despair—yet this child, with all her fragility, still believed in something better.

"...Perhaps," he murmured.

Aya beamed, stretching her arms above her head. "Alright, enough gloomy talk! Since you're not going anywhere anytime soon, we should at least enjoy the view. Look, the stars are extra bright tonight!"

Bram sighed but didn't argue. For once, he allowed himself to enjoy the quiet moment, listening to the heartbeat of the city below and the voice of the girl who, against all odds, had become his unlikely companion.