The Villainess only wants to go home

Chapter 124 - Past Love

Later that night, the campfire crackled softly, casting a warm, flickering glow around the clearing. Jackal was off to the side, absorbed in his own world as he practiced his movements, his small frame moving through a series of quick, precise strikes and blocks. Homura watched him from nearby, bored and annoyed.

Artemis sat by the fire, seemingly unbothered by the events of earlier as she flipped through her journal, the pages lit by the fire's glow. She looked completely disengaged, flipping through the pages with an air of calm detachment, as if nothing around her was worth noticing. She was deeply focused, her expression calm, almost relaxed, until she sensed movement from the edge of the camp.

She looked up, eyes narrowing as Ciel finally reappeared, his face shadowed and tense as he approached the fire. Perched on his shoulder, Sereia took one look at Artemis, crossed her tiny arms, and turned her head with an exaggerated "hmph," her wings fluttering in disdain.

Artemis barely looked up, her expression cold and distant. "Done sulking?"

Ciel's face darkened, and he shot her a glare that could have ignited the fire twice over. "I wasn't sulking," he replied sharply. "I just needed a moment away from your... charming company."

"Really? Looked a lot like sulking from here." She said looking down at her journal again.

"I wasn't sulking" he said again, his tone darkening.

Sereia let out a tinkling chime of what was clearly an angry tirade, her arms still crossed as she glared at Artemis with a tiny, fierce pout.

Artemis just gave a casual shrug, clearly unfazed. "Suit yourself. But if you're done pouting about the reality of things, maybe we can actually get something done tonight."

Ciel exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. "I wasn't the one wasting time, Artemis. Unlike some people here, I actually care about whether the others make it out alive."

Artemis let out a soft, unimpressed sigh, turning back to her journal. "Of course you do," she muttered. "Some people can't help but play hero."

Ciel clenched his fists but said nothing, and instead sat down on the opposite side of the fire. The silence that fell over them was thick with tension, each holding their own ground, unwilling to bridge the growing divide.

She watched him from the corner of her eyes, watching him plop himself on the opposite of her on the other side of the campfire. She spoke again, her voice was blunt, almost monotone. "Good that you understand. I'd hate for the 'reality' of things to ruin your night."

Ciel's mouth twisted, irritation clear in his eyes. He took a step closer, unwilling to drop it. "Reality," he repeated. "You mean your complete disregard for anyone else's life?"

Artemis looked up; her gaze sharp but devoid of any emotion. "Yes, reality," she replied flatly. "People die. People get left behind. That's the world we live in, whether you want to admit it or not."

Sereia let out a string of angry chimes from Ciel's shoulder, her tiny face red with fury. But Artemis didn't even blink. She was done with explanations, done with arguments, done with the endless idealism Ciel seemed to expect from everyone around him.

Ciel clenched his fists, clearly fighting to keep his voice steady. "I guess that's easy to say when it's not your life on the line."

Artemis met his gaze, her expression utterly blank. "Believe what you want." Her tone was icy, uninterested. She looked back at her journal, as if he were nothing more than a passing inconvenience.

Artemis flipped through the pages of her journal, deliberately minding her own business as the silence stretched around the campfire. But her eyes drifted up, and she found herself caught by the glow of the flames reflecting in Ciel's gaze. He sat across from her, shoulders tense, his jaw set, and yet there was a certain vulnerability to the way he stared into the fire, as though lost in thought. The light flickered across his face, illuminating his sharp features, handsome, undeniably, in the way his expression held a quiet strength, even in defeat.