The trio was still arguing like unsupervised gremlins when a tall, bearded figure cast a shadow over them. His voice was deep yet gentle—like someone who could bench-press a dragon but also read bedtime stories.
"Are you three still causing mischief?"
They looked up. Their eyes lit up like candles—for completely different reasons.
All at once:
"It's Michael!"
Kirian leaped forward, nearly tripping on air as usual.
"Michael, sir! Good to see you!"
He threw a salute so dramatic it almost slapped him in the face.
Michael chuckled. "Still trying to be a hero, Kirian?"
"Of course, sir! A hero must always be brave and help the ladies—uh, I mean, others!" Kirian corrected himself mid-panic. "I'll become a hero just like you someday!"
"Hahaha. Good ambition. Remember, a hero doesn't chase fame or glory. A hero does what's right for the people."
"Yes sir!" Kirian said, standing at attention like a knight who forgot which way his sword points.
Meanwhile, Liliana was already stroking Michael's beard like a fascinated cat.
"It's so fluffy…" she murmured.
Emilia had whipped out a notebook, scribbling questions like she was preparing for a scandalous interview.
Michael sighed fondly. "Are you three heading home?"
"We're going to look around town," Emilia replied.
"Hmm. Then I'll join you. I came to pick up Mirabel."
Right on cue, a girl stepped through the school gates. Blonde hair, sunlight behind her, glowing like a divine blessing. She spotted the group—more specifically, one certain idiot—and her whole face went pink.
She sprinted forward.
Michael smiled, opening an arm for a warm father-daughter hug…
…only to be completely ignored as she rushed past him.
"Kirian! You're here too! It's really good to see you!" she said, cheeks blazing like a furnace.
Kirian struck his heroic pose—the one that made him look like he was about to fight crime or fall on his face.
"Sup, Mirabel! Looking pretty as ever!"
Mirabel went full tomato mode.
"D-Do you really mean it? T-Thanks…"
Meanwhile:
Emilia was already setting up her future "Kirian x Mirabel" merchandise table.
Lili, somehow, was being carried in one of Michael's arms now. No one knew when or how this happened.
Michael stood frozen in pure fatherly heartbreak.
Emilia cleared her throat—loudly, dramatically, and sounding suspiciously like a dying chicken.
"AHEM. Good to see you too."
Mirabel snapped back to reality. "Ah—sorry! Good to see everyone! Lili, Emilia—how're you two?"
Liliana waved lazily while continuing to pet Michael's beard like it was a stress ball.
Emilia gave a smug thumbs-up.
Michael finally spoke.
"Mirabel… aren't you going to greet your dear old man?"
She glanced at him with peak teenage annoyance.
"Oh. You're here too, Dad. Sorry, didn't see you."
Michael took psychic damage.
Kirian leaned in, whispering, "Uh… is everything okay between you two?"
"Oh, it's fine. He sees me every day and treats me like a little kid. I am a big girl now, so he needs to stop worrying so much."
Kirian gently told her not to be too hard on him—he was just concerned.
She muttered, "I'll try."
As they walked, Mirabel and Emilia exchanged sneaky pictures of Kirian—some heroic, some embarrassing, all incriminating. They whispered like they were doing black-market trades.
Eventually, the group reached a large plaza where a heroic statue towered over them—standing proud, strong, and annoyingly shiny.
At the plaque below, the words read:
Michael Luminoth
Hero of Aleria
The Golden Boy
Michael pretended not to notice Kirian and Emilia staring at him in shock, pride, or mischief. Liliana, meanwhile, kept petting his beard like it was the fluffiest artifact in existence.