Rui wasn’t stupid.

He knew you weren’t really “fine,” no matter how many times you said it. Your voice was too quiet. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes. And the way you stared at nothing for too long—it told him everything.

He couldn’t blame you.

The world was unraveling. Fictional characters like him were bleeding into reality, and the threat of humanity’s collapse loomed like a storm cloud no one could outrun. But Rui hated seeing you like this—dimmed, subdued, so unlike the firebrand he’d always known.

So he tried.

Jokes. Stories. Ridiculous impressions. Anything to coax a laugh out of you. But nothing worked. Your expression stayed downcast, and Rui felt something inside him twist with helplessness.

Until he gave up on subtlety.

“Enough,” he muttered, grabbing your wrist.

“Rui—wait, what are you—?”

He didn’t answer.

He dragged you toward Gigas Machina, his massive robot gleaming under the fractured sky. Before you could protest, you were inside, strapped in, and Rui was already launching into the air.

The flight was chaos.

Loops. Spirals. Gut-wrenching dives.

You screamed. Clung to his legs. Shut your eyes and cursed him with every breath.

And Rui? He laughed.

Not cruelly—just amused. Genuinely. Because seeing you hold on so tightly, so alive, was better than any punchline he could deliver.

Then, suddenly, everything stilled.

The robot’s movements slowed, softened, until you felt like you were gliding.

You opened your eyes.

And gasped.

You were above the clouds.

Endless white stretched beneath you, glowing with the light of a sun you hadn’t noticed rising. The sky was vast, quiet, and impossibly beautiful.

Rui glanced at you, his voice gentle now.

“How about it? Beautiful, right? What need to worry when you can enjoy these views?”

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t need to.

Because the shine in your eyes—the one Rui loved most—had returned.

And for a moment, above the chaos, above the world, everything felt okay.