The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

(Alash’s POV)

"Welcome home, Alash."

I stared at her.

That was probably rude.

Unfortunately, my brain had temporarily stopped providing alternatives.

The girl standing several meters away was definitely Penelope.

Violet eyes.

Violet hair.

Same voice.

Same faint smile.

But everything else had apparently decided four years was enough time to become completely different.

Her hair now reached far down her back instead of stopping around her shoulders.

Her face had lost most of the softness I remembered.

She was taller.

Obviously.

People tended to do that.

Apparently, I had simply forgotten Penelope was included in that rule.

Her lavender dress was simple compared to what noble girls usually wore at ceremonies, but somehow that made her stand out more.

And she wasn’t looking away.

That was perhaps the strangest part.

The Penelope I remembered could barely maintain eye contact for five seconds before her face turned red.

This Penelope was standing directly in front of me.

Calm.

Composed.

Smiling.

My eyes narrowed slightly.

Suspicious.

[Your heartbeat increased.]

’Nobody asked.’

[I am simply observing.]

’Stop.’

Penelope’s smile weakened slightly.

That was when I realized I still hadn’t answered.

Right.

Conversation.

Important.

"Hello."

...

Excellent.

Four years apart.

Nearly four years of letters.

My first friend.

My fiancée.

And I had managed:

Hello.

Somewhere, every etiquette tutor in the kingdom probably felt a sudden unexplained pain.

Penelope blinked.

Then something unexpected happened.

She laughed.

Not loudly.

Just a soft sound she tried unsuccessfully to hide behind one hand.

I frowned.

"Why are you laughing?"

"I’m sorry."

"You don’t sound sorry."

"I’m trying."

That sounded familiar.

Dangerously familiar.

I adjusted Dream Haven beneath my arm.

Penelope’s eyes immediately dropped toward it.

Of course.

I knew it.

"You’re looking at my pillow."

Her eyes returned to mine.

"I am."

I nodded proudly.

’The System was wrong.’

[What?]

’I told you everyone was looking at the pillow.’

[She is looking because you are carrying a pillow through a noble estate.]

’Still counts.’

Penelope tilted her head slightly.

"You still carry one everywhere?"

"Obviously."

"I thought you might have grown out of it."

I stared at her.

"Penelope."

"Yes?"

"People grow out of clothes."

Her lips twitched.

"Not pillows."

"I see."

"You sound unconvinced."

"I’ve learned not to argue with you about sleep."

I paused.

That was...

Surprisingly wise.

"You’ve matured."

"Thank you."

"I meant specifically regarding pillows."

Her smile disappeared.

"Never mind."

Good.

There she was.

For a moment, the years between us became slightly smaller.

I walked toward her.

The closer I got, the more differences I noticed.

She really had changed.

The shy little girl from the garden wasn’t gone.

I could still see pieces of her.

The way her fingers lightly touched one another when silence lasted too long.

The tiny movement of her eyes whenever she became uncertain.

But now there was something covering those habits.

Confidence, perhaps.

Or practice.

Probably both.

I stopped in front of her.

She was shorter than me.

Not by much.

Enough.

Penelope looked up.

I looked down.

Silence.

Again.

This was going well.

"So."

"So," she repeated.

"How have you been?"

Her eyebrows rose.

"What?"

I frowned.

"That’s normally something people ask after not seeing each other for four years."

"You remembered."

"Of course I remembered."

"You sometimes forget to ask in letters."

Ah.

Danger.

I had entered dangerous territory remarkably quickly.

"I was busy."

"Sleeping?"

"Sometimes."

"Training?"

"Unfortunately."

"Healing?"

"Also unfortunately."

She smiled.

"Writing replies?"

"...Occasionally."

There it was.

The accusation.

I knew this moment would come.

I had prepared for it.

Not well.

But preparation had technically occurred.

"About that..."

"Twenty-three days."

I froze.

"What?"

"My last letter."

I stared at her.

She continued smiling.

"Twenty-three days."

’System.’

[Yes?]

’Why does everyone remember that number?’

[Because twenty-three days is a long time.]

’Whose side are you on?’

[Reality’s.]

Traitor.

I returned my attention to Penelope.

"I had circumstances."

"I know."

"Many circumstances."

"I’m sure."

"Very serious circumstances."

"Alash."

"Yes?"

"You wrote that Izabella found three unopened letters beneath your pillow."

I said nothing.

Penelope waited.

"...That was unrelated."

Her shoulders began shaking.

"You’re laughing again."

"I missed this."

The words came so naturally that I almost didn’t notice them.

Almost.

My thoughts stopped.

Penelope seemed to realize what she’d said a second later.

A faint pink color appeared across her cheeks.

There.

That was familiar.

Her gaze shifted away.

Also familiar.

Apparently some things hadn’t changed after all.

Something warm moved unexpectedly through my chest.

I looked away too.

Interesting ceiling.

Very impressive ceiling.

House Vortex had excellent ceilings.

[Your heartbeat...]

’Finish that sentence and I’m ignoring you for a week.’

Silence.

Good.

I looked at Penelope again.

She was still slightly red.

I probably needed to respond.

What did normal people say?

I missed you too.

That sounded simple.

Also dangerous.

Why dangerous?

I had no idea.

Probably because I had spent twelve years avoiding emotionally complicated sentences whenever possible.

Still...

I had learned something recently.

Sometimes saying something difficult once was easier than thinking about it repeatedly.

"I missed you too."

Penelope looked at me.

Her eyes widened slightly.

That somehow made the sentence feel considerably more serious than intended.

I immediately reconsidered my strategy.

"Mostly your letters."

Her expression flattened.

Better.

"They were entertaining."

"Alash."

"Especially the ones where you complained about noble banquets."

"I wasn’t complaining."

"You wrote three pages about Lady Haveron’s daughter asking whether our engagement was still valid."

"That was context."

"You underlined her name twice."

Penelope’s cheeks reddened again.

"She was irritating."

"That sounded like complaining."

"It was observation."

’That’s what the System says whenever it insults me.’

She crossed her arms.

I smiled.

Yes.

Much safer.

Normal Penelope had returned.

Except...

Not entirely.

I found myself studying her again.

She noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You’re staring."

"I am observing."

She narrowed her eyes.

Interesting.

That expression reminded me vaguely of her mother.

Probably not something I should mention.

"I was just thinking you’ve changed."

Her posture shifted slightly.

"Oh."

That one word carried considerably more uncertainty than everything she’d said so far.

Interesting.

"Your hair is longer."

Her fingers moved instinctively toward it.

"Yes."

"And you’re taller."

"Most people become taller after four years."

"I recently rediscovered that."

She stared at me.

I ignored the judgment.

Then I looked at her face.

"And you don’t look away anymore."

That did it.

Her eyes immediately moved away.

I smiled.

"Never mind."

She looked back.

"You did that deliberately."

"Maybe."

"You’re terrible."

"I’ve been told."

Something about her expression softened.

Then she looked at Dream Haven again.

"Is that a new pillow?"

My smile returned immediately.

Finally.

An important subject.

"Yes."

"You’re very happy about that."

"You don’t understand."

"I’m beginning to suspect I never will."

I hugged Dream Haven closer.

Mundane Veil remained active.

To Penelope, it probably looked like nothing more than an unusually nice silver pillow.

No mana.

No enchantments.

Nothing unusual.

Perfect.

I wondered what her reaction would be if she discovered she was currently standing less than a meter away from an SSS-rank artifact.

Probably concern.

Then questions.

Then Father would learn.

Then Master might learn.

Then...

No.

Absolutely not.

This information was going directly into the same mental vault containing the System, my celestial identity, and every embarrassing childhood memory.

"Where did you get it?" she asked.

Danger.

I considered my answer.

"It was a reward."

"For what?"

"Suffering."

She blinked.

"That doesn’t explain anything."

"It explains everything."

"No, it doesn’t."

"Then we’ll agree to disagree."

She looked at me for several seconds.

Then sighed.

"I forgot how difficult conversations with you could be."

"I prefer efficient."

"You avoided the question."

"Efficiently."

Her lips twitched again.

Good.

Then footsteps approached from behind her.

A maid rounded the corridor.

She slowed when she saw us.

"Lady Penelope."

Penelope turned.

The maid bowed.

"Her Grace asked me to inform you that preparations in the main hall will resume shortly."

"Thank you. I’ll return soon."

The maid bowed again.

Then looked toward me.

Her eyes widened.

"Young Master."

I raised a hand.

"Hello."

She immediately bowed much deeper.

"Welcome home, Young Master."

"Thank you."

She hurried away.

I watched her disappear.

"Everyone here seems nervous."

Penelope looked at me.

"You’re the heir of House Vortex."

"So?"

"An SSS awakener."

"I’ve had that for five years."

"You also disappeared into enemy territory for nearly two months."

"...Fair."

"And apparently never visit home."

I considered that.

Also fair.

"You know a surprising amount."

"I’m your fiancée."

I looked at her.

She paused.

Then added:

"And nobles gossip."

"That sounds more believable."

"Much more."

We began walking.

I hadn’t consciously decided where we were going.

Apparently neither had Penelope.

We simply moved down the corridor together.

Strange.

But not uncomfortable.

That surprised me.

Four years should have made this awkward.

It was awkward.

A little.

But beneath that awkwardness was something familiar.

Like returning to a room you hadn’t entered in years and realizing the furniture had moved but the room still smelled the same.

Penelope glanced at me.

"How long are you staying?"

"I’m not sure."

Her steps slowed slightly.

I noticed.

"Father wants me here for the ceremony. There are probably several things afterward."

"Probably?"

"I was informed."

"And you didn’t listen."

"I listened."

She waited.

"...Partially."

"Of course."

"But I’ll be here for a while."

Her expression brightened.

Only slightly.

Still noticeable.

"Until the Academy?"

"No."

That brightness faded.

"I’m returning to the border before then."

"Oh."

"I still have six months."

"And you’re choosing to spend them training?"

The disbelief in her voice was offensive.

I looked at her.

"I train."

"Voluntarily?"

"...Increasingly."

She smiled.

"I suppose people really do change."

"I still disagree with the concept."

"Clearly."

We reached an open balcony overlooking one of the inner gardens.

Penelope stopped.

So did I.

Below us, servants were arranging tables and decorative banners for tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

My sister’s Awakening.

I still hadn’t seen her.

Or my stepbrother.

Or my stepmother.

Or Father.

Apparently Penelope had somehow become the first person from my old life I met after returning.

That felt...

Appropriate.

She had been the first friend I’d made here.

My gaze moved toward her.

She was watching the garden.

There was something peaceful about her presence.

Different from Izabella.

Different from Mia.

Different from Nyra.

With all of them, my life had been moving.

Training.

War.

Danger.

Penelope belonged to before.

Before the border.

Before beastkin territory.

Before Vessa.

Caelum.

Nyra.

Before I understood how much losing someone could hurt.

I wondered if she could tell that I had changed.

Probably.

She was always better at noticing people than I was.

I was better at noticing pillows.

Everyone had strengths.

"Alash?"

"Hm?"

"You went quiet."

"I was thinking."

"Should I be worried?"

"Usually."

She smiled.

Then I remembered something.

Actually...

Several somethings.

Her awakening.

Her potential.

I knew absolutely none of them.

Three years.

Three entire years since her Awakening ceremony.

And I had never asked.

Maybe now was an appropriate moment.

I looked at her.

"So, what did you awaken?"