Wuthering Waves: I Was Hired by Carlotta Montelli

Ray looked around the living room, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"A few days away, and I thought you would have left this place a mess..." His gaze finally settled on Phrolova in the corner of the sofa. "I didn't expect it to be so well-kept."

The crimson-haired young woman was sipping black coffee without sugar. She barely glanced at him.

"I'm curious." Her voice was as light as a murmur to herself. "What kind of image do you have of me? How did you end up with such a misunderstanding?"

Ray rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, then said, "Probably... like a cat?"

Those familiar words made Phrolova's movements stop abruptly.

The cup clinked against the saucer. She slowly looked up, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "If you dare say that word again, I'll bite you to death."

Ray spread his hands helplessly. "...I don't need to say it. You're already showing it. Looks like everyone is right. A stray cat can never be tamed."

"Hachimi needs love. No love, no good."

Phrolova bit her lip, but ultimately just turned her face away, building an invisible wall of silence.

Phoebe sat nearby, a faint smile on her face, while Ciaccona beside her seemed a bit flustered and uneasy.

Probably because Phoebe was an acolyte of the Order.

It made her unusually sensitive to that kind of attire.

After all, Ciaccona was wanted by the Order of the Deep.

Though Ray had assured her that Phoebe was different from the others in the Order of the Deep, she could not help a certain automatic wariness.

Noticing Ciaccona's unease, Ray proactively introduced her to Phoebe. "This is Ciaccona, a bard. For some reasons, she will need to stay here for a while."

Phoebe smiled and nodded to Ciaccona. "My name is Phoebe. I'm an acolyte of the Order of the Deep. Miss Ciaccona is a bard? You must be very good at singing, right? If you have time, would you like to visit the cathedral and see our choir?"

"Ah..." A flicker of subtle stiffness crossed Ciaccona's expression. "Well... if I have the chance, I will definitely visit. Yes, definitely."

"Then it's settled." Phoebe smiled. "Please be sure to contact me then. I'd be happy to show Miss Ciaccona around the cathedral."

Though Phoebe was an acolyte of the Order of the Deep, her duties did not include hunting down heretics.

That was the job of a different department within the Order.

Naturally, Phoebe had no idea that Ciaccona was currently being hunted.

"As for this one..." Ray turned to the ever-silent Phrolova. "This is Phrolova. In a way, she's your roommate."

"Roommate? Huh?" Ciaccona was momentarily stunned. "Miss Phrolova lives here too?"

"Due to some special circumstances, Phrolova is also staying here temporarily."

The crimson young woman, whose name had been called, merely lifted her hand lazily in greeting, then dropped her gaze again, lost in her own world.

Her fingertips idly tapped the rim of the coffee cup, as if the conversations around her had nothing to do with her.

She seemed... like someone not easy to get close to.

Ciaccona thought quietly to herself.

But that was fine. She was only staying here temporarily anyway.

Once this matter was resolved, she would leave, as if she had never appeared.

"As for a room, there is still a study. If we tidy it up a bit, that could be your room."

"Yes, thank you for the trouble."

"Compared to the help you've given, this is nothing."

Phrolova caught the key word.

Help? Trouble?

Though she did not yet know the relationship between Ray and Ciaccona, perhaps...

they had formed some kind of partnership regarding the Saintess who still lived.

Only... they had no idea what was really hidden in that Sonoro realm.

Phrolova gently closed her eyes and downed the last of the coffee in her cup.

The bitterness spread across her tongue, like the truth she could not speak.

She had to find a way into that Sonoro realm.

...

...

"Then, I'll be going now."

After that, Phoebe shared the pastries she had made with everyone.

Though these treats were originally prepared for Ray alone, sharing this sweetness with everyone seemed like a good thing.

After all, faith springs from love, love produces sharing, and sharing returns love.

"Are you leaving already, Phoebe?"

"Yes, it's getting late."

"Then let me walk you out."

"Huh, can you?"

"Of course."

The night had dyed the streets with ink. A casual suggestion lit a flicker of light in the young woman's eyes.

The two walked side by side down the late-night street, their footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestones.

In the end, Ray did not tell Phoebe about the Order of the Deep's darker deeds, even if she knew the ugly truth, her nature would only tear her apart between faith and morality.

Some truths are like blades; the more you know, the easier it is to cut a pure heart.

He looked up at the night sky, carved into long strips by the eaves.

Sometimes, a certain amount of ignorance is a form of mercy.

Phoebe watched the young man's profile, softened by the night's shadows, a complex light shimmering in her eyes.

For some reason, her heart always wanted more.

At first, simply crossing paths with him on a street corner would have been enough to make her happy.

But now, that simple joy had faded, and a deeper longing stirred in the depths of her heart.

Why had she become so greedy?

At what moment did her formerly content self get lost?

"Phoebe?"

"Huh? Yes, I'm here." The young woman woke from her tangled thoughts, her expression warm. "What is it, Mr. Ray?"

"You seem lost in thought?"

"Huh, do I?"

"It's written all over your face." Ray chuckled softly, reaching out to gently pinch her soft cheek. "Is something bothering you?"

Phoebe quickly shook her head. "Nothing at all."

Of course there was.

And the one responsible was looking at her with concern, completely unaware.

"Really?"

"Really!"

Ray looked at the young woman before him with a hint of doubt, then finally shrugged helplessly. "Alright, if something is bothering you, just tell me. Don't keep it bottled up. After all, I am family to Phoebe."

The moment the words left his mouth, the young woman felt her heart suddenly lose its rhythm.

She quickly lowered her head, hiding her burning cheeks in the night's shadows, one hand lightly pressed to her chest in an attempt to calm her restless heart.

It was these very words.

This gentle bond was giving rise to an even greedier desire within her.

"Sentinel above, please forgive my sins."

And so, the young woman made up her mind.

At the crossroads, Ray stopped.

"I'll walk you no further than this," he said softly, the night flowing across his shoulders. "Then, Phoebe, tomorrow we'll—"

Before he could finish....

The petite, golden-haired young woman suddenly rose on her tiptoes, gently cupped his face in both hands and a kiss fell like a feather, carrying youthful warmth and resolve.

She clutched her wildly heaving chest, as if her restless heart might leap out of her body in the next second.

Not a single word was left behind, only the hurried arc of her skirt as she turned and the young woman fled like a startled fawn, quickly disappearing into the depths of the night at the street corner.

The night breeze gently brushed past Ray, frozen in place, the fleeting warmth still lingering on his lips.

"Phoebe..."

This sudden kiss caught Ray completely off guard.

"She just... kissed and ran away."