Heaven was exactly as beautiful as the mortals imagined it.
Which, honestly, was part of the problem.
Everything in the divine realm was perfect. It was, in every objective sense, wonderful.
Hestia had lived there for longer than most mortal civilizations had existed.
And she was bored out of her mind.
Not that she'd ever say it quite like that. Boredom felt like an insult to the place—like complaining about a banquet because you were tired of the taste. She wasn't ungrateful. She knew better than most what it meant to have a home, to have warmth, to have a place where the fire always stayed lit.
She was the goddess of it, after all.
Gods often came and went, drifting through those halls in their eternal lives of leisure. Some stopped only briefly, pausing beside the flame as they spoke of their latest amusements. Others lingered longer, enjoying the simple comfort of the fire.
Hestia had always liked those moments.
She was never one for grand spectacles. Not like Zeus with his booming laughter and endless tales of conquest. Not like Ares, who thrived on war and chaos. Not even like Loki, who delighted in stirring trouble wherever she went.
Compared to them, Hestia's existence had been… calm.
Peaceful.
Someone had to keep the fire burning, after all.
Someone had to make sure that when the other gods grew tired of their games and rivalries, there would always be a place to return to.
The goddess shifted slightly in her sleep, her fingers tightening unconsciously around the worn blanket.
Back then, Heaven had been comfortable.
Too comfortable.
That was the problem.
Immortality had a way of dulling even the brightest flames. Eventually, the gods had grown restless. Their conversations turned from idle chatter to speculation.
What would it be like to live among mortals?
To walk the Lower World not as an untouchable deity, but as something closer to them?
What would it feel like to watch lives unfold in real time… fragile, fleeting, and full of change?
One by one, the gods began to descend.
They left Heaven behind in search of something new—something unpredictable.
Adventure.
Conflict.
Stories.
At first, Hestia had stayed behind.
Unlike many of the others, she didn't crave excitement. Watching mortals struggle for survival wasn't something she found entertaining. The idea of manipulating their lives like pieces on a board had always left a bitter taste in her mouth.
But curiosity was a quiet, persistent thing.
Eventually, even she began to wonder.
What did it truly mean to live among mortals?
What did it mean to build something real?
A family not bound by divine eternity, but by choice?
So she descended.
And reality greeted her far less kindly than Heaven ever had.
Life in Orario was not easy for a goddess without a familia.
Work was difficult to find, especially when one had no reputation and no followers to support them. Most adventurers already belonged to powerful familias with established names and deep pockets.
No one needed a new goddess with nothing to offer.
The first few months had been… humiliating.
Hestia had taken whatever odd jobs she could find. Cleaning floors. Running errands. Carrying deliveries. Sometimes helping in kitchens where the heat of the ovens reminded her faintly of the hearths she once watched over in Heaven.
The pay was barely enough.
Some nights she went to bed hungry.
Other nights she lay awake staring at the ceiling of whatever cheap room she'd managed to rent, wondering if descending to the Lower World had been a mistake.
The gods who had come before her were thriving.
Loki Familia.
Freya Familia.
Even smaller familias had begun carving out names for themselves.
And Hestia…
Hestia had nothing.
Fortunately, when Hestia had first arrived in Orario, lost and nearly broke, it had been Hephaestus who found her.
The smith goddess had listened quietly as Hestia explained her situation. There had been no mockery in her gaze—only a long sigh that suggested she had expected this outcome from the start.
Still, she helped.
Hephaestus offered her work at her workshop.
Nothing glamorous.
Mostly cleaning tools, organizing supplies, and running small errands.
But it was honest work.
More importantly, it kept Hestia fed.
Eventually, Hephaestus even helped her secure the abandoned church.
It wasn't much.
The building had long since been forgotten, and the upkeep was practically nonexistent.
But it had a roof.
And for Hestia, that had been enough.
Even so, accepting that help had never been easy.
Hestia hated the idea of relying too much on someone else. Especially when she knew how busy Hephaestus already was running one of the most respected familias in Orario.
Still…
Without her help, Hestia might never have made it this far.
Still… she had never truly regretted coming here.
Because even through all the frustration and embarrassment, there had always been one thought burning quietly in her heart.
She wanted a family.
People who chose to stand beside her.
People she could protect… and who would protect her in return.
That dream had kept her going.
Even when she had to swallow her pride and take another low-paying job.
Even when she'd finally ended up living in this old church that most people in Orario had long since forgotten.
But today—
Everything had changed.
Leon Mishima.
Her first child.
Her first member.
Her familia had finally begun.
Of course…
Right after that, she had fainted.
Right.
She fainted.
The realization struck her just as she stirred awake.
"Waaahhh!!"
Hestia shot upright far too quickly, the sudden movement sending a sharp throb through her head.
"Ow—ow—ow…" she groaned, clutching her forehead as the room spun slightly around her.
It only took a second for her to recover. She was a goddess, after all.
Hestia laughed weakly to herself, rubbing the back of her head as the last of the dizziness faded.
Then she realized something.
The room was quiet.
Her laughter slowly died in her throat as she looked around.
"…Leon?"
No answer.
Her eyes darted toward the doorway.
Empty.
The small room suddenly felt much larger—and much colder—than it had a moment ago.
Hestia's chest tightened.
He's… not here.
A nervous pit began forming in her stomach.
Did he leave?
The thought crept in before she could stop it.
Her hands tightened around the blanket.
Did he leave because I fainted?
Her mind raced, each thought worse than the last.
Did he realize how poor I am?
Her gaze drifted around the tiny room—the thin mattress, the worn blanket, the cracked cup on the crate that served as a nightstand.
It wasn't much.
It was barely anything at all.
Did he realize how pathetic his goddess is?
Her shoulders slumped slightly.
"No… no, no, no…" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head quickly as if trying to chase the thought away.
Please don't tell me my first member abandoned me five minutes after joining…
She hurriedly scrambled out of the bed.
The blanket tangled around her legs, nearly sending her tumbling to the floor, but she caught herself at the last second and rushed toward the door.
"Leon?" she called nervously.
No answer.
Her heart beat faster as she pushed the door open and hurried into the main hall.
And then—
She froze.
"…Huh?"
What greeted her was nothing like what she expected.
Gone was the rundown, abandoned church she had grown used to the past three months.
The broken pews that had once leaned crookedly against the walls were now neatly arranged in clean rows. The thick layer of dust that had coated everything had vanished. Sunlight streamed through windows that had somehow been cleaned, illuminating polished wooden floors that no longer looked like they might collapse at any moment.
Hestia slowly stepped forward, her eyes wide as she looked around in disbelief.
"This… this is…?"
The church had been fixed.
"You're finally awake, Hestia."
The voice broke through her stunned silence.
Hestia turned quickly.
There, sitting casually on one of the newly cleaned pews, was a handsome blond man. His posture was relaxed, one arm draped over the backrest as if he had been waiting for a while.
Leon Mishima.
For a moment she simply stared at him, her wide blue eyes searching his face as if confirming he was really there.
He hadn't left.
The realization hit her all at once.
"Leoooon!"
Before he could react, Hestia rushed forward and tackled him.
Leon barely had time to brace himself before the small goddess crashed into him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Her face buried itself against his chest as she clung to him like someone afraid he might disappear.
"H-Hey—"
"You didn't leave!" she blurted out, her voice trembling slightly. "I thought you ran away! I thought you saw how poor I am and decided to quit already!"
Leon blinked once.
Then he sighed quietly, placing a hand on top of her head.
"Relax," he said calmly. "I just cleaned up a little."
Hestia sniffed, still clinging to him.
"A little?" she mumbled.
Leon glanced around the now-restored church.
"…Relatively speaking."
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Hestia tightened her grip slightly, as if reassuring herself he was really still there.
Her first familia member hadn't abandoned her.
And somehow, that fact alone made the entire church feel warmer.
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