The warm sunlight seemed to flicker as if reality itself shivered. One moment Albedo was there, sitting on the bench, his aura calm yet imposing, and the next—he was gone. Both Dila and Fran blinked rapidly, their eyes scanning the empty space, hearts skipping a beat.

Dila's voice was barely a whisper, edged with confusion and panic. "W-where did he go…?" Her fingers trembled slightly as she clutched Fran's arm, the silver strands of her hair brushing her face with the breeze. Fran's tail twitched nervously, her ears flattening as she scanned the surroundings, eyes wide with unease.

Before they could process the emptiness, a shadow stretched across their hiding spot, and they felt a sudden presence right behind them. Dila's stomach dropped as she realized he had reappeared—Albedo stood silently, just a breath away from where they crouched, his piercing blue eyes fixed on them. Fran froze, her body stiff, her tail flicking anxiously.

Albedo's voice broke the silence, low and teasing yet carrying that quiet, unwavering authority. "Looking for a good place to eavesdrop… am I right?"

In unison, both Dila and Fran let out a high-pitched, panicked shout. "Ahhhh!"

Their bodies tensed, hair standing slightly on end, hearts hammering in their chests. Dila's face flushed with a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and frustration, while Fran's wide eyes glimmered with panic, her small hands gripping Dila's pajama sleeves tightly. The sudden closeness of Albedo's presence pressed on them like a storm, leaving a chilling awareness that they had been caught utterly defenseless.

Albedo's gaze lingered on them, calm yet calculating, as he tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin. "Hmm… I wonder why you two didn't come out when I called," he said, his voice quiet but firm, carrying that subtle weight that made Dila flinch.

Dila's eyes snapped open, sharp and blazing, and she shot him a glare that could cut steel. "It's because you're a fool! A fool who thinks he can keep me here!" Her voice cracked slightly, edged with both anger and pain.

As she curved her body suddenly, a sharp twinge of pain stabbed through her side. She clenched her jaw tightly, forcing her teeth together, her silver-white hair falling over her face as her eyes squeezed shut against the ache. Her hands instinctively pressed against her ribs, trying to ease the sting that wracked her body.

Fran's eyes widened in terror, her tail flicking anxiously as she rushed closer. "Sister!" she shouted, her voice filled with alarm. Her small hands hovered helplessly, unsure where to support Dila.

Dila curled further, pressing herself against the floor on her knees and feet, letting out a low, strained cry. "Ahhhhh…it hurts…" she murmured, teeth gritted and voice trembling. Confusion and frustration mingled with the pain. I thought…the painkiller capsule…was supposed to last a full day…why does it hurt already? Her mind raced even as her body ached, the warmth of sweat forming along her temple and back from the effort of holding herself upright despite the agony.

Fran's tail wrapped nervously around her leg, ears pinned back, as she leaned in closer, ready to assist, her heart pounding in fear and worry for Dila's weakened form.

Albedo's face darkened, the shadows under his eyes deepening as his mind weighed the scene before him. He stepped forward slowly, his movements deliberate, almost unnervingly calm. His glowing blue eyes followed Dila with a mixture of concern and determination. Then, in a fluid motion, he scooped Dila gently and then leapt from the hidden vantage point to the bench where she had been struggling, landing silently yet firmly.

Before Dila could react, he cradled her carefully in his lap. Her body thrashed violently, each movement a reflection of the sharp, gnawing pain coursing through her. Her silver-white hair tumbled over his arms, her fists clenched and shoulders jerking as if trying to fight the agony. Yet Albedo remained unshaken, his expression calm, almost serene, belying the tension in the moment. His hands were steady as he supported her fragile form, the blue glow in his eyes intensifying softly.

Then, gently, he pressed his lips to her forehead. The warmth of the kiss seemed to pulse with life itself, and the ethereal blue glow from his eyes began to seep into Dila's body. Slowly, the tension in her muscles eased, the stabbing pain that had wracked her side subsiding like ripples calming on a stormy pond. She let out a shuddering sigh, her body relaxing slightly against him, though exhaustion and residual pain still lingered.

Meanwhile, Fran had dashed from the hiding spot, her small figure moving quickly through the overgrown garden. The thick grass and thorned flowers tugged at her clothes and pricked her skin, leaving faint scratches along her arms. Her ears flicked back, tail flicking nervously, but her gaze never left Dila and Albedo. Despite the sting and discomfort, she pushed forward, worry and determination blazing in her blue eyes, desperate to reach them and offer whatever support she could.

Fran's voice cracked as she shouted, "Sister, are you okay?!" Tears shimmered in her wide blue eyes, dripping down her cheeks as she looked at Dila's frail form cradled in Albedo's lap. Her small hands clenched at her sides, trembling, as guilt flooded her. "I'm… I'm sorry! I let you roam outside, even though your body isn't in good shape…" she admitted, her voice faltering, almost a whisper through the sobs threatening to escape.

Albedo slowly raised his right hand, palm outward, as if to halt her from speaking further. Fran froze instantly, her ears flicking back in surprise, tail stiffening slightly. The calm, measured tone of his voice cut through the tense air. "It's not your fault," he said gently, his glowing blue eyes soft yet piercing, filled with an authority that carried care. "It's my daughter's stubbornness… to leave me alone," he added, his gaze drifting to Dila's resting face.

Dila's eyes remained closed, her body heaving softly with each shaky breath as she allowed herself a brief moment of rest. The faint rise and fall of her chest reflected exhaustion and pain, yet beneath it, a fragile sense of relief settled. Albedo's hands remained steady beneath her, cradling her like a delicate artifact, his thumb brushing lightly over her arm as if assuring both Fran and Dila that she was, for now, safe.

Fran's shoulders slumped, a mix of relief and lingering worry etched across her face. She stepped closer but stayed careful, watching her sister's slow, steady breaths, still trembling from both fear and the sting of her own guilt. The garden around them was quiet, sunlight spilling over the overgrown flowers, the gentle breeze carrying the faint scent of earth and greenery, yet in the moment, the only thing that mattered was the fragile peace between them.

Then Dila's voice was barely a whisper, trembling and fragile as if carried on the wind itself. "Father… help me…" she murmured, her eyes closed, her body leaning into Albedo's lap as though seeking comfort in a dream. Her small frame shook lightly, exhaustion and lingering pain rippling through her muscles, and her fingers twitched against his chest as she sought something solid to hold onto.

Albedo's deep, steady voice responded without hesitation, warm and firm, "I'm here, my daughter." His hands pressed gently around her, careful not to hurt her, yet firm enough to let her feel the undeniable strength behind them. His blue eyes glowed faintly, casting a soft light over her pale face, as though willing her strength and calm into her body.

But in Dila's mind, a storm of contradiction raged. No… no… he's not my father, she thought, a faint shiver of fear and confusion running through her. Despite that inner protest, her body moved almost on its own, opening her eyes to meet him, and with a small, weak motion, she wrapped her arms around him. The hug was gentle, tentative, yet filled with a desperate need for reassurance.

Albedo, without hesitation, embraced her back, holding her close, his own chest rising and falling slowly as he matched her weak rhythm. Every inch of his posture spoke of protection, patience, and unyielding care, as if silently promising her that she could rest here without danger.

Meanwhile, Fran's ears twitched, and she pressed her hands lightly against her cheeks, a subtle itch of confusion and curiosity pulling at her expression. Wait… sister… she doesn't like Father… and now she's hugging him? Her mind raced, her tail flicking uneasily as she tilted her head, trying to make sense of the strange, conflicting emotions unfolding before her. The sunlight filtering through the garden brushed against them, the faint scent of flowers and soil filling the air, yet Fran's gaze stayed locked on her sister, torn between worry, puzzlement, and an unspoken desire to protect.

Dila's body shook as she spoke, the words catching in her throat like jagged stones. "Father… I'm sorry… I've been so stubborn to you…" Her voice was weak, almost strangled with tears, each word dripping with the weight of regret and vulnerability. Her fingers trembled as they clutched at his clothes, searching for some anchor to the man before her, her face buried slightly into his chest as her sobs broke through.

But in the corners of her mind, a cold, puzzled thought stirred. No… no… what are you doing!! is this the real Dila awakening? Her soul… Dila… or is this something else? Her inner voice whispered anxiously, unsure if the fragile confession spilling from her lips was truly hers, or if it was the echo of something deeper, something dormant that had finally surfaced.

Albedo's reaction was immediate and raw. A choked sob tore from his chest, loud and unrestrained, echoing across the quiet garden as he cradled her tighter. "My daughter…" His voice broke, thick with pain and relief intertwined, his shoulders shaking as he let himself grieve openly. Tears streamed freely down his face, wetting Dila's hair, and he pressed his forehead lightly against hers.

"I'm sorry… I fought you… my daughter…" he gasped, his blue-glowing eyes shimmering with both anguish and awe. "I'm such a fool…" Each word was laced with guilt and sorrow, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths as he wept openly, holding her like he might never let go. The warmth of his embrace contrasted sharply with the bitter chill of their past conflicts, yet in that fragile moment, the garden seemed to hold its breath, allowing them a rare, fleeting connection.

Dila, still trembling in his lap, felt the mixture of grief and love pressing down on her, and despite the confusion in her mind, she allowed herself, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, to lean into it. The sun's gentle rays fell upon them both, glinting through the leaves, casting light over tears and hair, as if the world itself had paused to witness the fragile reconciliation of father and daughter.