Mika sighed, the sound heavy and reluctant. "Fine." He muttered, as he looked at the pitiful look Charlotte had on her face. "I was just...having a little dilemma back there, when the truck hit me."
Charlotte perked up instantly, leaning closer, her full attention locked on him. She hung on his every word, her gaze intense and unblinking, like a disciple awaiting wisdom from a sage.
Mika so rarely opened up, rarely let her peek past that stoic, sarcastic wall he kept up, and she wasn't about to miss a single syllable. To her, this was a treasure, a glimpse into the heart of her beloved Mika, and she drank it in with a quiet, desperate hunger.
He didn't look at her, his eyes drifting to the horizon as he spoke. "I was totally fine after the crash." He said, his voice low, steady. "You know that. I'm not exactly a normal person, haven't been for a long time. You've known that since forever, right?"
She nodded quickly, almost instinctively.
Of course she knew. Mika wasn't just different he was beyond.
Higher, somehow, than anyone she'd ever met, even her mother who was one of the most powerful blessed in the world, a presence that didn't quite fit in this world.
She'd seen it in the way he shrugged off things that would kill even SS-tier blessed, the way he moved through life like he was untouchable, a step apart from the rest of humanity.
It wasn't arrogance; It was just...him.
"But..." He continued, his tone shifting, growing heavier. "If I wasn't like this, if I was just some regular guy walking down the street, no weird abilities, no nothing, and that truck hit me?"
"...I'd be gone. In a second. Body mangled, blood everywhere, soul halfway to heaven before I even hit the ground."
Charlotte's breath stopped, her hands tightening on his arms like she could anchor him to the earth, keep that nightmare from ever coming true.
The image he painted, his life snuffed out, his body broken, sent a jolt of terror through her. She gripped him harder, pressing herself closer, as if letting go might make that hypothetical reality swallow him whole.
Noticing this, Mika's hand moved to her back, patting it gently, a slow, calming rhythm that eased her trembling. She relaxed, but only just, her eyes still wide with the echo of that fear.
"When I got hit." He went on, his voice quieter now. "I started thinking. A hypothetical, you know? What if I did die right there? What goes through your head in that last moment? And I realized...It's regrets. Things you didn't do, stuff you left unfinished, dreams you let slip away." His face hardened, a solemn weight settling into his features that made him look older, wearier. "And in that split second, I figured out I've been living with regret my whole life."
Charlotte's eyes widened, shock rippling through her.
Regret?...Mika?...The boy who seemed so unshakable, so above it all?
She couldn't wrap her head around it, couldn't imagine what could haunt someone like him. But he wasn't lying, the gravity in his voice, the way his shoulders slumped just slightly, told her this was real.
And it was...In those fleeting seconds of being hurled through the air, Mika had stumbled onto a regret so profound it shook him to his core, a midlife crisis crammed into the blink of an eye.
It was a regret so visceral, so overwhelming, that it jolted him out of the life he'd been drifting through.
The impact hadn't just bruised his body; it had cracked open his soul, forcing him to face something he'd buried deep.
And now, because of it, he'd made a choice to stop coasting, to live differently, to chase something new. That accident, that brush with a death he couldn't truly experience, had flipped a switch in him.
But what was this regret?
What could be so horrible, so terrifying, that it redefined him in an instant?
To understand that, you'd have to dig into Mika's life his strange, tangled history with the five battle angels who became goddess after they saved the world, and their five daughters, Charlotte among them.
It was in those relationships, complex, fraught, and unspoken, that his regret took root, a shadow he hadn't seen until the truck forced him to look.
Mika was born into this world without a family...at least, not in the traditional sense.
The moment he came into being, his mother slipped away, her life extinguished in the fragile aftermath of childbirth. It was a quiet tragedy, one that left no room for memories or farewells.
As for his father, Mika had never heard a whisper of him. It was as if the man had never existed at all, no name, no face, nothing to tether him to the world.
For most children born under such circumstances, the path would lead to orphanages, cold walls, and a life devoid of the warmth of familial love.
But Mika wasn't most children.
He was lucky, impossibly so, because where fate took away one mother, it gave him five in her place.
And those five women weren't just anyone; they were the five goddesses, the world's revered saviors, stepping into his life as caretakers alongside their five daughters, all born a year before him.
Why he was given such special treatment?
Well, it turned out his mother had been no ordinary woman.
To the battle angels, she was a towering figure, a beacon of respect and reverence they spoke of with hushed awe. 'Older sister' they'd call her, their voices soft but weighted with something deeper, as if she'd been the one to light the spark of purpose in their lives.
Whatever bond they'd shared with her, it was profound enough that when she died, they didn't hesitate. They took Mika in, a squalling infant with no one else, and vowed to raise him as their own.
Together with their daughters, Charlotte among them, they became his family, a sprawling, unconventional one built on love, duty, and a legacy he didn't fully understand.
From his earliest days, their care enveloped him like a warm, unbroken embrace.
As a baby, one would sit by his crib through the night, rocking him gently in her arms, her fingers tracing soothing circles on his tiny back until his cries softened into sleep. Another spent hours preparing his bottles, warming the milk just right, holding him close as she fed him, her eyes never leaving his face as if memorizing every gurgle and coo.
They'd take turns bathing him, filling a little tub with warm water, their hands careful and tender as they washed his soft skin, chuckling softly when he splashed them with chubby fists.
As he stepped into elementary school, their love grew with him.
One packed his lunches every morning, filling his bag with sandwiches cut into stars, a little note tucked inside that said 'You've got this!' in neat, loving script. Another walked him to the bus stop, holding his hand the whole way, lingering until the bus pulled out of sight, her wave the last thing he'd see before it turned the corner.
They'd gather around him at night, helping with spelling words or math problems, one patiently guiding his pencil while another brought him warm milk to sip, their presence a steady comfort as he stumbled through his lessons.
By middle school, their care took on a new depth.
One would sit with him after a long day, brushing his hair back as he rambled about friends or frustrations, her quiet nods letting him know she heard every word. Another took him on weekend outings, hikes or trips to the park, packing a picnic with his favorite snacks, spreading a blanket under a tree so they could eat together, the sun filtering through leaves as they shared easy silence.
They mended his clothes when he tore them, one stitching up a ripped knee with careful stitches, another surprising him with a new jacket she'd picked just for him, her smile bright when he tried it on.
When he entered middle school as a freshman, their devotion never wavered. One drove him to school each morning, the car filled with the scent of her coffee and the sound of her asking about his day ahead, her hand resting briefly on his shoulder before he climbed out.
Another showed up to every little event, science fairs, awkward assemblies, sitting in the front row, clapping with a pride that made his ears burn but his chest warm. They'd cook dinners together some nights, one teaching him to chop vegetables while another stirred a pot, the kitchen alive with their chatter and the clink of spoons, a homey chaos that wrapped him in belonging.
Even though Mika never had a true mother in his life, the emptiness of that loss was more than filled by the five battle angels who took him in.
To the world, they were mythic heroes, figures of awe who could shift mountains and part seas with their staggering power.
But to Mika, they were simply the loving, nurturing souls who raised him, their care a quiet, steady presence that made him feel he was never truly alone.
Their love wasn't in grand displays but in the small, tender moments, the way they held him close, patched his hurts, and stood by him through every step, weaving a warmth into his life that outshone any absence.
And it didn't stop with the five goddesses.
Their daughters, all a year older then Mika, brought another layer of affection into his world.
Growing up side by side, they became his close childhood friends, their lives entwined from the start.
'Close' was also too mild a word for it; their bond was deep, fierce, and unrelenting, a connection so intense it sometimes felt like they were extensions of him rather than separate souls.
In the beginning, it was all innocent and natural.
As little kids, they'd spend their days in a blur of play, racing through fields, their laughter ringing out as they played tag, or piling under a blanket fort on stormy days, swapping silly stories and secrets.
They'd share everything: snacks at lunch, toys in the yard, even the occasional scraped knee, each fussing over the other with clumsy bandages and earnest concern.
In elementary school, it stayed just as sweet, they'd trade cookies for fruit slices at recess, team up for group projects with messy glue and too much glitter, and walk home in a chattering cluster, plotting sleepovers or giggling over nothing.
It was the kind of friendship that felt like a second skin, warm and familiar.
But after elementary school, something changed.
The easy camaraderie didn't fade, it deepened, twisting into something more consuming. Mika began to notice how his childhood friends grew fiercely attached, their affection blooming into an obsession that went beyond normal bounds...