"About the request I mentioned earlier—what did Loki say?"
"Loki said it should be my call. Once we go over there, there will be plenty you and Loki can't do easily," Tsunayoshi answered.
Hephaestus nodded. With their divinities sealed, that wouldn't change in another world. They were the ones who would need looking after. And their original aims couldn't be handled by themselves anyway; Tsuna would have to take point. From that angle, whether they went to his world should be his decision.
"And?" she asked, glancing back. "What did you decide?"
"Of course I agreed."
Tsuna's hands worked gently over her shoulders. He'd long since decided that both Loki and Hephaestus would go. "You need to look for materials that can kindle the Dying Will Flame. Even if we keep that flame from spreading beyond the three Familia, future weapons for those three will still need those materials."
"So I have to go," she summarized, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "If that's the only purpose, I don't actually need to be there, do I?"
"In theory, no. In principle, yes." He met her eyes. "Loki's going to see that world for herself—my guess is you want the same. I'm the one asking for your help to forge. I can't openly beg the Goddess of the Forge for weapons and then refuse to satisfy her curiosity about another world, can I?"
Want everything and you end up with nothing—Tsuna knew that lesson well. If he wanted Hephaestus's help, he had to honor her curiosity about the unknown. Just like with Loki.
"I think I see why Loki likes you," Hephaestus said, laughing softly.
She rose from her chair; tall as a spear, she stood a little higher than him. "You think things through. You understand equivalent exchange. In some ways, you're very much a boy—fond of… naughty things. But you're capable, and you think of others. A very cute child."
Her fondness for him wasn't just about talent; it was about how he did things. She'd noticed long ago how Tsubaki relaxed around him, how easily she wrapped him in armfuls. Hephaestus had always looked on with amused approval.
Now, though, she realized she liked this child too.
"If you weren't Loki's, I might just steal you," she said, and drew him into a hug.
"Then I'm curious." She tilted her head. "Do you like Tsubaki, or those Amazon twins?"
A beautifully loaded question.
"Whether it's Tiona, Tione, or Tsubaki—I like them all."
"Greedy, aren't we?" She smiled. "You'll be trouble later. But I do like your honesty."
"In front of gods, lying is boring, isn't it?"
Hephaestus flicked him on the forehead. "Idiot. That's exactly the kind of thing you don't say in a moment like this. I'll choose to treat that honesty as one of your virtues. Fool."
The reprimand carried no real scold—only a shade of fondness.
"I'll allow whatever happens between you and Tsubaki," she said at last. "As for the others—no promises."
"If you have the ability, bring them all home."
"Then… does that include you, Lady Hephaestus?"
She paused, released him, and pinched his cheeks between both hands. "I said bring them home. You're trying to carry me off? I'm a god. What are you thinking?"
Mortals falling for gods wasn't new. Gods were all beauty and charisma; worship easily slid into infatuation. Freya had more than her share of admirers, and not only for her face.
Hephaestus, though, didn't believe she carried that kind of allure. Her right hand lifted, almost unconsciously, to the patch over her eye.
"…No special reason," Tsuna said quietly. "Just the first feeling I had after spending time with you."
"Spending time… a reasonable answer," she murmured. "But if you see my right eye, will you still say that?"
She slipped the patch free.
The skin around her right eye was puckered, shot through with knotted veins that crawled like roots. Set in Hephaestus's face, the eye was a jarring flaw—nothing like the beauty a goddess ought to wear, a dark, ugly stain.
Tsuna looked—startled for a breath, but not shocked. "So that's how it is."
He stepped closer. Hephaestus blinked, baffled by his expression.
"Not afraid? With an eye this ugly, why do you look like that?"
He stopped before her. "I knew you covered it to hide a part you didn't like. Seeing it today… yes. Your right eye looks like a price paid—ugly, fierce, nothing like a goddess."
Yes, that's it, she thought—and still her hands tightened.
"But the focus shouldn't be only the skin around it," he went on. "What about the eye itself?"
"My eye?"
She turned, really looking at him then. In his face, there was no disgust, no fear, no revulsion.
"In that eye I only see your gentleness," he said, "and the love you have for your children. The scar on the skin is poison—but in that poison, the red of your eye is beautiful."
"Ah…"
Hephaestus trembled. In his gaze she saw a child's sincerity—and words that made her cheeks flush like a confession.
(End of Chapter)
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