KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess
Chapter 85: [85] This Is Getting Harder
CHAPTER 85: [85] THIS IS GETTING HARDER
They made it back to their apartment building just as the sky darkened to deep indigo. "We could keep guessing about Dominic all night," Xavier said as they stepped into the elevator. "But without solid information, we’re just spinning theories."
Calypso leaned against the elevator wall. "I know. It’s just unsettling."
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and they walked down the hallway to their apartment. Xavier glanced at Aurora’s door as they passed.
I wonder if she’s home? Should I invite—nah I’m not an idiot.
Once inside, Xavier set their food on the kitchen counter while Calypso took off her shoes and headed straight for their bedroom.
Xavier unpacked the food containers, arranging them on the counter before heading to the bathroom to wash his hands. His reflection in the mirror looked a lot more settled than it had two weeks ago. Director Angelo’s words echoed in his mind: You have leadership qualities whether you want them or not.
When he emerged, Calypso had changed into pink silk pajama shorts and a matching camisole.
"Your turn," she said, brushing past him toward the kitchen. "I’m starving."
Xavier changed into black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt, then joined Calypso at the small dining table where she’d arranged their food. She was already halfway through a cream-filled pastry, a dab of filling at the corner of her mouth.
"You have..." Xavier pointed to his own mouth.
Calypso wiped it away with her thumb, then licked the cream off. "So good," she sighed. "I’ll never get tired of tasting things."
Xavier opened his ramen container, steam rising with the scent of spices and broth. "About Dominic," he said, picking up their earlier conversation. "I think we need to focus on what we can control."
"Which is?"
"Getting stronger." Xavier broke apart his chopsticks. "The goal hasn’t changed. We need to close the gates. If Dominic becomes a problem, we’ll deal with him when we have to."
"But if he remembers me—"
"Then he remembers you." Xavier shrugged. "It doesn’t change what we need to do. And obsessing over it won’t help."
Calypso nodded slowly. "You’re right. I just wish I understood what was happening."
"We’ll figure it out." Xavier slurped his noodles. "But right now, we have more immediate concerns."
"Like what?"
"Like finalizing the design of our hunter gear," Xavier said, remembering their earlier conversation. "And like the fact that I seem to be developing a reputation at Catalyst."
Calypso grinned. "The Valentine Playboy. I have seen all the posts."
"I was trying to keep a low profile while I’m still weak," Xavier said. "But it seems like this world is determined to push me into the spotlight."
"Maybe that’s not a bad thing." Calypso reached for another pastry. "Being known gives you access. People talk to you, invite you places. Like Ashley inviting us to the Primal Exhibition."
Xavier considered this. "You might be right. If I can’t stay in the shadows, maybe I should embrace the light."
"That’s very philosophical of you."
"I have my moments."
They finished eating, and Calypso gathered the empty containers while Xavier wiped down the table.
"Let’s work on those designs," Calypso said, retrieving her tablet from her bag.
Xavier settled on the bed, propping pillows against the headboard and stretching his legs out. Calypso hesitated for a moment, then climbed onto the bed beside him, tablet in hand.
"What do you think of this one?" She showed him a sketch of a combat outfit with flowing lines and reinforced panels.
"It’s good," Xavier said, trying to focus. "But still too elaborate for actual fighting."
Calypso shifted positions, apparently not finding a comfortable spot. After a moment’s hesitation, she moved onto Xavier’s lap, her back against his chest.
"Is this okay?" she asked, her voice slightly higher than normal.
Xavier’s hands found her waist, steadying her. "Yeah," he said, his voice rougher than he intended. "This works."
They both knew they were playing with fire. Their agreement about boundaries remained in place—no sex, no serious emotional entanglement. But in the privacy of their apartment, those boundaries blurred. They couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other, finding excuses for casual touches, sitting closer than necessary, creating a constant low-level current of tension.
"So," Calypso said, her voice a little breathless as she settled against him. "Combat outfits."
Xavier’s thumbs traced small circles on her hips. "Right. Combat outfits."
"I was thinking we could match," Calypso said, tilting her head back to see his reaction.
"Hell no. Not colors, at least."
"Why not?" Calypso pouted. "We could coordinate. Silver and pink for me, black and pink for you."
"We’re already living together. If we start dressing alike, people will definitely think we’re a couple."
"We’re supposed to be cousins," Calypso reminded him. "Cousins can coordinate."
"No matching colors," Xavier insisted. "We can match themes if you want, but not colors."
Calypso sighed dramatically. "Fine. What theme did you have in mind?"
Xavier thought for a moment, his hands still moving absently against her sides. "Traditional with modern elements? I was thinking you’d look good in something kimono-inspired."
Aiko. Silk Kimono. Strawberries.
"Xavier?" Calypso’s voice pulled him back to the present. "You tensed up. What’s wrong?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just remembered something."
Calypso turned in his lap to face him, her knees on either side of his hips. "Tell me."
"The last woman I was with before I died. Aiko. She wore kimonos."
"Oh." Calypso’s expression fell slightly. "Bad memories?"
"Not bad, exactly." Xavier’s hands moved to Calypso’s back, tracing her spine through the thin silk of her camisole. "Complicated. She was a mark, but also... not just a mark."
"Ah... the girl in love with Avery Hemmingway." Calypso nodded, leaning closer. "I remember her."
Their faces were close now, breaths mingling. Xavier could see the tiny silver flecks in Calypso’s pink irises, the slight part of her lips.
"We should get back to the designs," he said, not moving away.
"We should," Calypso agreed, her fingers now threading through his hair.
Neither of them reached for the tablet that had slipped to the side of the bed.
"The kimono idea isn’t bad," Calypso said after a moment. "I could make it work. Modified for combat, of course."
"Of course." Xavier’s hands slid lower, tracing the curve where her back met her hips. "Reinforced fabric."
"Mmm." Calypso’s eyes fluttered closed as his hands continued their journey. "And you? What will you wear?"
"Something practical. Black combat pants. Fitted jacket. Nothing flashy."
"Boring," Calypso murmured, but her attention was clearly elsewhere as Xavier’s hands found the bare skin between her camisole and shorts.
"Functional," Xavier corrected. His thumbs traced the line of her hipbones, and she shivered. "Durable."
"You need something distinctive," Calypso insisted, her own hands now exploring the muscles of his shoulders and chest through his t-shirt. "Something people will remember."
"I thought that was your job," Xavier said. "To be the memorable one."
Calypso’s fingers found the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath to touch his bare skin and to take it off. "We can both be memorable."
They had agreed not to cross certain lines, knowing that if they started, they wouldn’t be able to stop. But they pushed against those boundaries constantly, testing the limits of their restraint.
"The costume designs?"
"We should finish them," she answered, making no move to retrieve the tablet.
Instead, her lips found his, soft at first, then with increasing hunger. Xavier’s hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to her as though afraid he might pull away.
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When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Calypso rested her head on his shoulder.
"This is getting harder," she whispered.
"I know." Xavier’s hands moved to safer territory, rubbing circles on her back. "But we agreed."
"We did." Calypso sighed, then straightened. "Designs. We were working on designs."
She reached for the tablet, though she remained in Xavier’s lap. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen from their kiss.
"So, kimono-inspired for me," she said, her voice not quite steady. "Traditional but practical for you. No matching colors, but coordinated themes."
Xavier nodded, grateful for the return to safer topics. "Exactly."
They spent the next hour refining their ideas, sketching concepts, and discussing materials. The tension between them remained, an undercurrent beneath their conversation, but they kept it contained.
Later, as they prepared for bed—Calypso in the bathroom, Xavier changing in the bedroom—he thought about Director Angelo’s words again.
When Calypso emerged from the bathroom, Xavier was already under the covers, one arm behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
"Deep thoughts?" she asked, sliding in beside him.
"Just processing the day," he said. "It’s been a lot."
Calypso settled against him, her head on his shoulder, one arm draped across his chest. "Tomorrow’s Saturday. We can sleep in."
Xavier’s arm curled around her, holding her close. "Goodnight, Calypso," he murmured into her hair.
"Goodnight, Xavier," she replied, her breath warm against his neck.