Chapter Text
There are good people and bad people in the world. Everyone knows that, humans and other beings alike. But the longer one thinks about that simple truth, the more a question begins to form, one that becomes harder to answer the more it’s considered.
Do truly good humans still exist in this age? Those pure of heart, selfless, and righteous?
After all, many humans harbor hatred and cruelty deep enough to rival the darkness of demons. But if such evil can reside in them, then surely great goodness can as well.
That thought troubled a certain angel more than he expected, an angel whose hair was white as the first fallen snow and whose eyes were the color of fresh blood. The idea of such souls, rare or perhaps extinct, would not leave his mind. Yet the more he pondered, the more he realized that thought alone would never satisfy him. If he truly wished to know whether Earth still held humans of pure heart, he would have to see for himself.
And so, he made his decision. He would descend to Earth and search for one, no matter how long it took!
But finding such purity was far harder than he imagined. The goodness of a heart is not something that can be seen at a glance. Even an angel, blessed with divine wisdom, cannot always tell true virtue from false. They may sense the nature of a soul’s deeds, but not the reasons behind them. A righteous act might be born from selfishness, while a cruel one could spring from love or desperation. A kind face might hide malice, and harsh words might belong to someone only trying to do what is right. Mortals are curious beings that way.
Then there was the matter of how to appear before them. Humans would surely panic at the sight of a winged being crowned in light, if they could even look upon such brightness at all. The light angels are made of burns too fiercely for mortal eyes.
So, he decided to take on a human form. Yet instead of blending in completely, he allowed himself a bit of creativity. Mischief had always found its way into whatever he did, much to the frustration of his superiors, and this time would be no different.
He had long admired the inventiveness of humankind: their art, their machines, their endless stories. One tale in particular caught his attention, a story of a mysterious being said to grant wishes to anyone who possessed a certain special object.
How fascinating, he thought. What inspired such an idea? Was it born of laziness, a wish for burdens to vanish without effort? Or of longing, a desire for some higher power to grant what they could not earn themselves?
Whatever the reason, the story gave him an idea. It would serve as both disguise and purpose.
He would grant wishes, or rather, perform miracles, and in doing so, test the hearts of those who crossed his path. After all, nothing reveals a person’s true nature quite like the chance to have anything their heart desires.
.
.
.
The door to a cramped three-room apartment creaked open, and a weary brunet stepped inside. He locked it behind him and let his bag drop with a dull thud. His shoes followed, kicked into the corner without a glance. With a long, tired sigh, he shuffled into the living room and collapsed face-first onto the couch, groaning into a pillow.
This so-called ray of sunshine was Lovino. Lovino Vargas. And why was he in such a foul mood? The answer was simple: he was a second-year medical student, finally home after another long, exhausting day at college. His mind buzzed with fragments of immunology lectures, half-legible notes from last night’s frantic review session, and the ever-present worry of unpaid bills waiting at the end of the month. Between classes, exams, and responsibilities that never seemed to end, he sometimes wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake choosing this path…
You see, Lovino wasn’t like the other medical students. Medicine hadn’t been a lifelong dream, nor was it some family legacy he was expected to continue. That was part of why he struggled more than most. His heart simply wasn’t in it. So why was he in medical school at all, if not for passion or expectation? The truth is… he hadn’t really had a choice. It’s a long story, and to understand it properly, we’ll have to start from the beginning.
If someone had asked Lovino two years ago, back when he was a high school senior, whether he could see himself studying medicine or anything related to STEM, he would have laughed right away. Stressful, demanding work just wasn’t his thing. To be honest, he hadn’t even figured out what was his thing, or what he wanted to do with his life. He liked painting and trying out new fashion ideas, but neither felt like something he could turn into a real career. Still, that uncertainty wasn’t all bad. It pushed him to consider taking a gap year after graduation, to relax, explore, and figure out what he really wanted. Besides, a year of doing nothing sounded like a well-deserved break after twelve long years of school.
But life, unpredictable as it is, had other plans, plans that tore Lovino’s own apart. Halfway through his final year of high school, tragedy struck. He and his younger brother, Feliciano, lost their grandfather. Though he had been old, his death still felt sudden, and they didn’t know how to cope. Their grandfather had been the heart of the family, the one who took care of everything, from bills to the house. And just like that, he was gone, leaving the brothers to manage on their own…
For two teenagers, barely eighteen and nineteen, the challenge was immense. They had only just begun to stand on their own, still learning what it meant to be adults while their grandfather was there to guide them. And now, almost overnight, they were expected to shoulder responsibilities they barely understood, to make decisions that even experienced adults would hesitate to face. Life, and the way the world worked, could be painfully unfair.
Yet unfair or not, they had no choice but to try, or give up entirely. Because if they didn’t take care of things themselves, no one else would. It’s cruel, but true. Think of it this way: if you don’t tend your own garden, the flowers will wither and die. Neighbors may notice, may even pity the decay, but few will step in to save it unless there’s something to gain. Compassion often ends where inconvenience begins.
For the Italian brothers, giving up simply wasn’t an option. They had quickly realized that their grandfather’s inheritance wouldn’t last more than a year, and once the money ran out, they wouldn’t be able to pay the bills. If that happened, they would lose the house and end up on the streets. What a dreadful fate that would be. They had to find a way to secure some stability before it was too late!
Lovino, especially, felt overwhelmed by it all. As the older brother, he knew it was his job to take charge, make the tough decisions, and be the voice of reason, even though he was only a year older than Feliciano. But Feliciano, kind and caring as ever, couldn’t stand to let his brother face everything alone. He did everything he could to help!
Together, the brothers spent the next few weeks searching for a reliable source of income. Their first idea was to find part-time jobs, but that plan didn’t last long. Most of the available work required full-time hours or shifts during school days. Taking those jobs would mean either dropping out or missing so many classes that they’d risk expulsion, neither of which they could afford.
While looking for other options, they stumbled upon something promising: a social bursary offered by the Italian government. It provided financial aid to young adults without family support or income. The discovery filled them with hope; they finally had a chance at stability. There was, however, one catch! The bursary was available only to students, meaning they would have to stay enrolled in school or continue to college to qualify.
And though that might not sound like much of a problem—after all, they were already in high school—it was a significant issue for the older brother. Lovino had only half a year left before graduation, and he had planned to take a gap year afterward. But if he did, he would no longer qualify for the bursary. Feliciano’s student aid alone wouldn’t be enough to support them both…
The realization left Lovino deeply disappointed. Not only did he have no time to consider which university he wanted to attend or what field to study, but it also meant he wouldn’t get any break at all. The thought frustrated him endlessly, yet he knew he had no choice if they wanted to keep receiving financial support for both of them…
Once the Italians submitted all the required documents and were approved for the bursary, Lovino immediately threw himself into researching universities and potential fields of study. He focused on programs that offered the most generous financial aid. Unlike high school, university bursaries weren’t fixed; the amount varied by field. Humanities received less funding than STEM programs. Unfair, if you ask me!
After several days of research and careful consideration, he discovered that only one path met all their needs: medicine. It offered the greatest financial support, securing the stability he and his brother so desperately needed. And, of course, the career prospects weren’t bad either…
Lovino was never naturally good at the sciences. They simply never clicked for him the way they did for students who genuinely understood and enjoyed them. And, truth be told, he didn’t like them much either. Knowing this, he understood that choosing medicine—a field he wasn’t passionate about, and one of the most demanding and time-consuming degrees imaginable—meant years of pushing himself harder than ever before. The work would bring him little satisfaction, which would only make him want to avoid it. But he wouldn’t be able to afford to. Falling behind or failing wouldn’t be an option then; doing so could get him expelled and cost him his financial aid…
Still, he knew that he and Feliciano needed a roof over their heads… and, while they were at it, futures that could support them without loans or debt waiting the moment they graduated. Medicine promised stability. A reliable paycheck once residency began, job security, and none of the uncertainty that haunted so many other fields. And, of course, the bursary…
People liked to say that money couldn’t buy happiness, but Lovino knew that was nonsense. In a world like theirs, money made happiness possible. It gave you time with the people you loved, room to breathe, and a life free from constant worry. What joy could come from endless struggle and exhaustion? Certainly not the kind that lasted.
In the end, given the situation, Lovino’s choice was inevitable. He would go to college right after graduation, skip the gap year, and study medicine, even if the idea didn’t appeal to him at all. There simply wasn’t another choice.
From that moment on, Lovino threw himself into studying harder than ever. To pursue medicine, he first had to pass the medical college admission exam, a daunting task for someone who had never been particularly diligent. The preparation was intense; he wasn’t used to such demanding study or the complexity of the material. Yet when exam day finally came, his hard work paid off: he passed, much to his own surprise.
He didn’t get into his first-choice university, but he was accepted by a reputable school in Rome, just barely making the cutoff. Scholarships were out of reach, but with government aid, both tuition and living expenses became manageable.
Now, you might think Lovino’s troubles ended there, right? Well… not quite. While his financial worries had eased somewhat, his first year of college brought an entirely new set of challenges. Adjusting to a schedule that demanded constant effort was hard enough, but keeping up with lectures in real time proved even tougher. Other students seemed to absorb the material effortlessly, while Lovino often left class understanding almost nothing.
Exams were even harsher. Each one covered the equivalent of three textbooks, and he failed so many that he had to retake them multiple times, scraping by with barely passing scores. The few exams he did pass on the first attempt were hardly impressive. His professors grew concerned, suggesting he get a tutor or take extra classes. But how could he afford that when every coin went toward food and bills? Even if he wanted help, there simply wasn’t room for it in his budget. His financial aid barely covered the essentials—it certainly wasn’t enough for extra courses or study materials.
It had been a grueling first year, so draining that it was almost a miracle Lovino had survived it, let alone continued into the second instead of dropping out. By then, though, things began to improve, if only slightly. He had grown more accustomed to the relentless workload and learned that when he didn’t grasp something in class, he could review it afterward on his own. His grades hadn’t improved dramatically, but at least he could manage… somewhat. He had also made a few good friends, which offered a small measure of encouragement.
What truly lifted Lovino’s spirits, however, was his brother’s decision, after finishing high school, to follow the same path into medicine. Part of Feliciano’s choice came from not knowing what else to do, but mostly it was because Lovino was in med school, and in his mind, that alone was reason enough. Against all odds, he passed the entrance exam, too. Like his brother, he had barely made the cutoff, but listing Lovino’s university as his first choice ensured his acceptance.
At first, Lovino tried to persuade Feliciano to follow the path he truly wanted, promising that once he graduated, he would take care of their financial struggles. But Feliciano’s mind was already made up. He neither sought nor entertained any alternatives. When Lovino realized he couldn’t change his brother’s decision, he let it go. Still, there was a small comfort in knowing he wouldn’t have to face med school alone, and a relief in the thought that Feliciano’s future would be a bright one, too. He had worried about what career his brother might choose… Feliciano’s head had always been a little too far in the clouds, but now there was no need for such concern.
Even so, there was one clear difference between the two brothers, despite both pursuing medicine without real passion. They approached their studies in very different ways. Lovino struggled through every lecture and exam, overwhelmed by frustration and exhaustion, always afraid of falling behind. Feliciano, on the other hand, met the same challenges with calm cheerfulness that Lovino couldn’t understand. No matter how hard things got, he never complained. He said he was happy simply to be learning something meaningful, something that could help others. Even when he barely passed, he still smiled and found reasons to feel proud.
Lovino often wondered how he managed it. Perhaps Feliciano was naïve, or perhaps he had a kind of strength Lovino lacked. Whatever the reason, it was clear that his optimism was what truly set the two brothers apart.
And that’s how Lovino wound up in his current predicament. Eventful, I know. But enough about the past! Let’s return to the present, before this becomes a story of what was rather than what’s still to come.
Lovino stayed slumped on the couch a moment longer, burying his face in a decorative pillow as he drew in ragged breaths. Eventually, the lack of air forced him to move. With a low groan, he straightened, ran a hand through his hair, and let out a quiet sigh. He was utterly drained and wished for nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening right there.
But as tempting as that was, he knew he couldn’t. “Ah…” He exhaled sharply and, with reluctance, pushed himself up. Dragging his feet, he shuffled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, peering inside as he rummaged through the shelves for something edible, or at least a few ingredients he could turn into a meal.
He eyed the few bell peppers and tomatoes in the lower drawers, along with a couple of onions and a handful of garlic cloves. “Hm…” he murmured, surveying the meager assortment. It wasn’t much to work with. Clearly, he and Veneziano would have to go grocery shopping again over the weekend. They were already running low on basics.
Lovino pushed the fridge door halfway closed and leaned against the counter, casting a glance at the clock on the wall. “One… two… three…” he murmured, counting the hours until Feliciano would be done with his classes. Their college schedules rarely lined up. Sometimes he finished first, sometimes Feliciano. Lovino, of course, would have preferred walking home together instead of separately. Most of his friends lived in different directions, and the walk alone always felt too long and too quiet. It left him with too much time to think about things, things he wouldn’t call unimportant, but definitely depressing. Thoughts he probably wouldn’t dwell on if he had someone to talk to, someone to distract him…
Of course, there were exceptions. Occasionally, a class would be canceled for one of them, or it would be Friday, the one day their schedules matched perfectly. On those days, they could leave campus together, and Lovino always looked forward to it. Until Friday came, though, he had a few more days of this small, solitary torment to endure.
Since they almost never finished at the same time, dinner duty always fell to whoever got home first. Today, that “unlucky” person was him, though he wasn’t really unlucky. Both brothers enjoyed cooking, so it wasn’t a chore they dreaded.
After counting how much time he had before Feliciano would be back, Lovino rolled up his sleeves. The fridge didn’t give him many options, but simple food wasn’t a problem. Anything tasted good if it was made with care. Tonight, that meant roasted bell pepper pasta.
He gathered the bell peppers, tomatoes, a few cloves of garlic, and a red onion and carried them to the sink. After rinsing them, he set them aside and crouched to pull out a cutting board. He placed it on the counter, took up a knife, and began chopping the vegetables, leaving the garlic whole.
As he worked, his thoughts drifted back to the lessons he’d reviewed the night before. Antibodies… IgM, the first response to infection. IgG, long-term immunity. Then came IgD… the one with an unclear role? Or was that IgE? He frowned, the knife pausing for a moment. Guess he’d have to look over that section again tonight instead of moving on to the next topic.
By the time he pulled himself from his thoughts, the chopping was already finished. He set the knife aside and reached for a baking tray. After lining it with parchment, he drizzled olive oil across the surface and spread the vegetables over it. Another drizzle of oil followed, then a mix of seasonings: basil, oregano, salt, pepper, a bit of chili, and whatever else felt right. Sliding the tray into the oven, he turned it on and watched the heat begin to build, the faint scent of olive oil already warming the kitchen.
Next came the pasta. He set a large pot of salted water to boil and poured in a bag of penne. While the pasta bubbled and the vegetables roasted, the Italian made use of the time and went to retrieve his bag, which he had rather haphazardly left by the entrance when he came in. He dragged it over to the couch and began pulling out the usual heavy stack of notebooks he used for taking notes. They were bulky, and carrying them around for hours every day was anything but fun.
Because of that, he always told himself he should start putting aside a little money from his financial aid each month to save up for a tablet or at least a better laptop. The one in his room was ancient and barely held up anymore. He doubted it would survive much longer on campus…
But telling himself to save and actually doing it were two very different things. A week or two before the next aid payment, he and Feliciano always ended up with almost no money left—not even enough for proper groceries. To be fair, the aid wasn’t enough to live comfortably for a whole month. And could anyone really blame them for wanting a new shirt or belt every now and then? Well… maybe. But still. Those were necessities!
Anyway, he was getting off-topic. The point was, saving money for anything university-related was easier said than done.
Lovino gathered the rest of his notebooks and, once he had them all, carried the stack to his room. He dropped them onto his desk and paused, staring down at them. He debated whether to review while dinner cooked or lie down for a bit. Tough choice… though not really, since the second option won within seconds. He told himself he needed to recharge if he wanted to be productive later. And honestly, he wasn’t wrong.
With a quiet hum, he flopped onto his bed without hesitation, savoring how good it felt to sink into something soft after hours of biology lectures with classmates who acted like they’d been born with the textbook up their ass.
At first, he stayed on his stomach, eyes shut, face buried in his pillow. After a minute, though, he shifted onto his back, finding it more comfortable. He lay there with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling and letting his thoughts wander wherever they wanted: how his classes had gone, the annoyance of waking up early tomorrow, the pressure to raise his grades for decent third-year internships, even what kind of coffee he should have in the morning.
But in the quiet, when nothing else demanded his attention, one thought he could never quite shake began to push the others aside. It always surfaced in moments like this, when he wasn’t busy or focused on work, and as it settled in, his expression softened into something a little sad.
Lovino would never admit it aloud, not even to his brother, though Feliciano had probably noticed, maybe even understood, long ago. But, even after two years, Lovino still hadn’t come to terms with their grandfather’s passing. Feliciano didn’t seem to struggle the same way. He’d always been better at finding something bright in dark moments. When he talked about their grandfather, it was with warmth and small, fond smiles, remembering the life he’d lived. Lovino couldn’t do that. Every memory reminded him of what was gone, and he couldn’t think of the good without feeling the pain of how it ended.
Isn’t it unfair? he would often think, again and again, how those you love most, those closest to you, can be torn from your life so suddenly, so brutally. Why, in God’s plan, had their grandfather been taken so soon? Why couldn’t it have been later… much later? And each time, he found no answer.
Perhaps it was that uncertainty that made the loss feel even harsher. Or maybe it was because the heart of the Italian had already been scarred enough to feel it this way. You see, Feliciano and Lovino had lost their parents to a drunk driver when they were in elementary school. They had been young, yes, but not so young as to fail to understand what had happened, not so young as to forget it…
Feliciano had eventually managed to move past that immense grief, and he remembered their parents now the same way he remembered their grandfather, with love that no longer hurt as deeply. But for Lovino, the deaths of their parents had left a hollow wound that never fully healed. Now, with their grandfather gone as well, that wound had been torn open again, leaving him wracked with anguish and painfully aware that the only people who could have eased it were gone.
He knew, logically, that he shouldn’t feel this way. He should be thankful that he still had his brother, that he wasn’t alone. His brother could accept that, could take comfort in it… so why couldn’t he? But knowing something in his mind wasn’t the same as believing it in his heart.
Perhaps part of him didn’t want to see it differently. Letting go of these feelings, accepting the loss, would mean admitting that those moments of his life were gone forever. And he wasn’t ready to face that truth.
As these thoughts kept circling, Lovino felt a sharp sting in his eyes, then tears began to fall. He tried wiping them away, but soon he just covered his face with both hands and let them come. He hated feeling like this… so vulnerable, still upset after all this time. What bothered him most was that he couldn’t control it. Why couldn’t he be more like Feliciano, who always managed to find some bit of hope instead of getting caught in the dark parts of everything? There was no answer, and that only made him more frustrated with himself.
While he sat there, lost in his thoughts and tears, a faint smell of garlic and herbs drifted in from the kitchen. It pulled him back to reality. Dinner. The pasta he’d been cooking had probably been boiling much longer than it should have. A jolt of panic hit him. If it overcooked, the whole meal would be ruined!
“Shit, the pasta…” he muttered, blinking hard to clear the stubborn tears from his eyes. He pushed himself off the bed, swung his legs to the floor, and stood. He’d been focused on everything except what he should’ve been. He should’ve been thinking about dinner, not the mess in his head.
Shaking off the leftover gloom, Lovino hurried into the kitchen and went straight to the pot. He checked the pasta and let out a relieved sigh. It was perfectly al dente. He drained it quickly and set the pot aside. Then he leaned toward the oven to check the vegetables. The smell filling the kitchen—honestly, the whole apartment—told him they were done.
True enough, they were, their edges just beginning to char. Carefully, he pulled the tray from the oven, mindful not to burn himself, and set it on the stove. Grabbing a fork, he gently removed the peel from the tomatoes and bell peppers. With that done, he tipped all the roasted vegetables into the blender. A few quick pulses later, they had transformed into a smooth, rich sauce. Lovino poured it over the pasta, stirring until every strand was evenly coated. For the final touch, he tore a few basil leaves and sprinkled them on top, finishing with a generous handful of Grana Padano, since, unfortunately, they were out of Parmigiano Reggiano. And, as the French say, voilà! Dinner was ready.
Satisfied with how the food turned out, Lovino let out a small, pleased hum and glanced at the clock. He still had about two hours before his brother would be home. He considered waiting to eat with him, but the loud growl in his stomach made the decision for him; he needed to eat now.
With that, the brunet served himself a plate of pasta, sat at the table, and started eating. He was so hungry that he didn’t even mind the Grana Padano replacing the usual Parmigiano, an impressive compromise for an Italian who normally refused a dish if the butter wasn’t exactly to his liking.
As he ate, Lovino pulled out his phone and started scrolling; replying to messages he’d ignored earlier, checking social media, and skimming through emails. He even hoped, however unrealistically, that one of his professors might have canceled class for tomorrow… but no such luck. Damn it.
When he finished eating, he forced himself to wash the dishes. Lately, he’d been doing that more often. Neither he nor Feliciano liked cleaning, but they both knew better than to let the dishes pile up. Leave them for later, and you’d only end up regretting it. Still, that didn’t make the chore any more enjoyable.
Once the sink was finally empty, Lovino checked the clock again. Feliciano wouldn’t be home for a while. Unsurprising, considering how little time had passed since he’d arrived, cooked, and eaten… barely an hour and a half.
Speaking of cooking and eating… Lovino’s thoughts drifted to dinner, and a sudden realization made him frown: they were out of tomatoes. He’d used the last of them for the sauce, and that simply would not do. The rest of the groceries could wait until their usual shopping trip at the end of the week, but tomatoes were essential. Lovino couldn’t imagine a single day without at least one tomato-based dish! It was non-negotiable. A quick trip to the marketplace was unavoidable if he wanted to avert a culinary disaster.
Besides, he reasoned, a short walk would give him a chance to clear his head before returning to his studies. Not that he was avoiding them… he just needed a mental breather. Pathology and Immunology were this semester’s focus, and the thought of memorizing endless lists of pathogens, their appearances, and effects made him grimace. Far too many of them, really. But he would put that aside for now. What mattered most at the moment was tomatoes.
With that goal in mind, Lovino grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys. After covering the pot to keep his brother’s dinner warm, he stepped into the evening air and headed toward the market.
The walk was more refreshing than he expected. Lovino had always liked the way autumn changed Rome. The trees along the streets dropped leaves in bright gold and red, covering the ground like a colorful carpet. The chilly air wasn’t his favorite, but the view made up for it.
When he reached the market, he moved through the busy groups of people and crowded stalls. Everyone was out buying fresh seasonal produce. He noticed quinces as he passed… they would be gone from the market soon, but he wasn’t here for those. He kept going until he reached the one stall he trusted to have the best tomatoes.
The vendor, who had known him and Feliciano since they were kids, greeted him warmly. He asked a few friendly questions about Lovino’s schoolwork, his brother, and how the two were doing living on their own. Lovino answered politely and made a bit of small talk before finally asking for a couple of tomatoes.
The vendor handed them over with a smile, and after paying, Lovino wished him a good day. The vendor returned the gesture, and with the tomatoes in hand, Lovino turned for home.
But as he walked past the familiar rows of stands, something unusual caught his eye… a booth he didn’t recognize. He slowed, then stopped, a faint frown pulling at his brow as he glanced back toward the unfamiliar setup a few meters away.
“That wasn’t there before…” he muttered under his breath. He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed or thought it strange that a new booth had appeared out of nowhere. Setting up a stand in this marketplace normally took months of paperwork and approval from the other vendors. But this one hadn’t been here last week… suspicious.
Yet everyone else acted as if nothing were unusual, going about their selling or shopping as usual….
“Huh…” Lovino said, now more curious than suspicious. After a moment of hesitation, curiosity got the better of him, and he walked toward the booth to take a closer look…
As he approached the strange new stand, close enough to seem interested, the vendor greeted him with a friendly smile. “Welcome!” he said. Lovino returned the greeting politely, but his eyes were already on the merchandise… and what odd merchandise it was.
In a market devoted to produce, he certainly hadn’t expected this. The stall held anything but fruits and vegetables. Antique-looking objects were carefully arranged: clocks, old books, paintings, even a vintage camera that seemed straight out of a classic Hollywood film. Scattered among them were a few utensils so worn they seemed unusable.
Lovino blinked at the odd assortment, scanning it until something even more unusual caught his eye… an object he somehow hadn’t noticed at first, even though it sat right in front of him. How he had missed it was a mystery. Then again, he could be a little inattentive at times, so perhaps it wasn’t so strange.
It was an old oil lamp, though not the sort with a glass chamber like those found in vintage European homes. This one had a distinctly Middle Eastern shape, with a long spout, rounded body, hinged lid, and a small handle at the back. Fine patterns covered its metal surface, a few chips marked the edges, and a thin layer of dust clung to it, suggesting it had spent years forgotten in a dim basement before being brought out for display.
Lovino studied it a moment longer, and a faint, amused smile tugged at his lips. Not because the lamp was inherently funny, but because its shape reminded him strongly of the one from that Disney movie everyone had seen, or at least heard of… Aladdin, was it? It looked almost identical to the film’s. He couldn’t recall every detail from childhood, but the resemblance was close enough that, if someone had told him it was a movie prop, he would have believed them without question.
Still smiling at the thought and the lamp before him, he reached out to pick it up. The metal was even dustier than it looked, so he gave it a quick blow, sending a small cloud into the air. When the dust cleared, the dull bronze beneath revealed a faint golden sheen that caught the light.
“Not bad…” the Italian murmured, turning the lamp over in his hands. He couldn’t help but wonder whether it was a genuine Middle Eastern oil lamp or the work of some mega Disney fan who had misplaced a hyper-realistic, probably absurdly expensive movie prop. The thought made him smirk, but before he could dwell on it, a voice suddenly cut through his train of thought.
“Interested in that, young man?” the vendor asked, making him start slightly.
Lovino blinked, caught off guard. “Ah…” he murmured, his gaze flicking between the vendor and the lamp. A sheepish expression crossed his face as he realized it probably looked like he was about to buy it… which he absolutely wasn’t!
He didn’t need a dusty, old-fashioned lamp. For one, he had no idea what he would even do with it. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing that made a room look nice. For another, he couldn’t afford nonsense. He and Feliciano had a set allowance each month, and spending recklessly, unless absolutely necessary, was out of the question. Otherwise, they’d be broke long before the next allowance arrived. Not that that hadn’t happened plenty of times before… but being penniless two weeks early was still better than three, right?
In truth, he’d only picked it up because it looked ridiculously like the lamp from that childhood movie. That was it. Still, holding it so long had probably given the vendor the wrong idea. That was on him… and on his curiosity. But never mind that! Glancing toward the horizon as the sun began its slow descent, he realized he’d lingered long enough. It was time to head home. Feliciano would be back soon, and he didn’t want his brother walking into an empty house, wondering where he’d gone.
With that thought, Lovino carefully set the lamp back in its place and gave the vendor a nervous laugh. “Uh, no… just wanted to take a look,” he said, offering a small, polite nod. “Buona giornata!” (Good day!)
The vendor returned the nod with a warm smile, seemingly unfazed that Lovino hadn’t purchased anything. Lovino turned away, eager to make a swift exit…
But only a few steps later, something caught his foot. He stumbled forward with a startled grunt, catching himself just in time before his knees met the pavement. “Merda—!” (Shit—!) he hissed under his breath, straightening and brushing off his coat. His heart thumped in his chest as he frowned, glancing back at the ground.
“What the hell…” he muttered, expecting to see a dent in the cobblestones or maybe a stray stick that had rolled into his path. Either way, it was absurd. The streets were a mess, and with all the taxes people paid, you’d think the government could at least fix the sidewalks. And if it was just a stick, someone could’ve had the decency to move it out of the way…
But when his eyes landed on what had nearly tripped him, both guesses fell apart. Lying on the cobblestones, exactly where he’d stumbled, was the lamp he had just been holding… the very same one from the new stand.
Lovino blinked once, then twice, just to be sure he wasn’t imagining it. When it didn’t disappear, he squinted at the lamp, brows furrowed.
“Huh…” he murmured, tilting his head as if a different angle might somehow make sense of it. “But I swear I put that thing back…” Still, he kept staring, half expecting it to get up and walk away.
Had he knocked it down without noticing? He frowned, trying to piece together how it could have ended up right in front of him. Maybe it had caught on his bag when he turned and fallen to the ground… that seemed like the only explanation.
Except the lamp wasn’t lying on its side. It was standing upright, as if someone had carefully placed it there. And there was the other thing: he hadn’t heard it fall. If metal had hit stone, the sound should have echoed through half the market. Yet there had been nothing…
At this strange turn of events, Lovino rubbed the back of his neck, his frown deepening. Maybe, he tried to reason, he’d just been too distracted to notice or hear it. He was tired, after all. Med school did that to a person. When your brain was running on caffeine and two hours of sleep, you could miss a marching band, let alone a lamp hitting the ground.
Still… something about it didn’t sit quite right.
Then… ghosts?
He actually paused on that thought before quickly shaking his head. No. Absolutely not. He was Catholic for God’s sake! He didn’t believe in that nonsense. He just hadn’t noticed it fall, that was all. Perfectly reasonable explanation.
And the sooner he put it back, the better. The last thing he needed was the vendor thinking he’d tried to steal something. Especially since this was the exact object he’d been holding for a few seconds… yeah, that looked suspicious enough already.
With a resigned sigh, Lovino bent down and grabbed the lamp, glaring at it as if it had personally tripped him. “Stupid piece of junk…” he muttered, brushing off the dust. Carefully, he set it back on the stand and stepped away, hoping the vendor hadn’t seen a thing…
After that odd little incident, one Lovino would much rather forget, the Italian headed straight home. Everything from there on felt perfectly normal: the walk, the street noise, the climb up the stairs… all completely ordinary.
When Lovino reached the apartment door, he checked the time and wondered if his brother was already home. It was about the hour Feliciano usually returned on this day of the week, so he assumed the younger Italian would be inside by now. But when he stepped in and called, “Feliciano?” the apartment stayed quiet. No sign of him. Feliciano hadn’t made it back from university yet, then.
Unbothered, Lovino shut the door behind him, kicked off his shoes, hung up his jacket, and took his wallet out of his pocket; just the usual things he did when coming home, nothing strange about any of it.
That sense of normalcy, however, disappeared the moment he turned from the entrance and started toward the table to set down his wallet and keys…
And here’s why.
Remember that lamp from the antique stand? The one he had tripped over less than an hour ago?
Yeah. That lamp.
It was sitting right there on the kitchen table. In Lovino’s apartment.
When his eyes fell on the object that clearly didn’t belong, he blinked, convinced he must be imagining it. He shook his head, hoping a quick motion would make it vanish, but when he looked again, the lamp remained, stubbornly proving this was no trick of the mind…
At that realization, a cold knot twisted in the Italian’s stomach, crawling upward until nausea clawed at him. The feeling always struck when nerves leapt ahead of reason. Fear came so fast that the bag of tomatoes slipped through his fingers, spilling onto the floor. His palms were slick with sweat, and for a heartbeat he froze like a deer caught in headlights, truly terrified in a way he had never imagined feeling in his own damn house.
But before he could dwell on the fact that the same lamp he had picked up at the marketplace was now here, as if it had followed him or simply appeared out of nowhere, a calmer thought pushed through the panic. His breathing steadied. He blinked a few times and let out a rough curse under his breath. He shouldn’t have let himself react like that, not over this, because honestly, there was nothing truly strange about it.
“Fuck, Feliciano…” he muttered with a shaky laugh. “All right, you got me!” he called out, louder this time, as he stepped toward the lamp. “You can come out now!”
Now that the shock was fading, the whole thing even felt a little funny. At first the sight of the lamp had put him on edge. For a moment he was sure some freaky shit was going on. But the more he thought about it, the more everything lined up. His brother had to be behind this. It was the only thing that made sense. Sure, it would have been a first. Feliciano had never pranked him in their entire twenty years under the same roof. But maybe today was the day he finally tried it.
Lovino picked up the coppery object, turning it over like he had at the marketplace, and let out a dry laugh. “But I have to say,” he muttered, shaking his head, “did you really skip your lectures just to mess with me? And follow me all the way to the market? That’s… some serious dedication, I’ll give you that.”
His lips flattened as he considered it… Feliciano skipping classes for a prank. His tone slipped into mild disapproval. “Though… you do know attendance matters, right? And you’re already falling behind in… well, most of your classes. Skipping them isn’t helping.”
He sighed in resignation, deciding not to push the issue since he understood the appeal of skipping those long, mind-numbing lectures. “But fine, whatever. Just don’t pull a stunt like this again. I swear, my soul nearly left my body the moment I saw this thing sitting on the table…”
Though, the longer he spoke, the clearer it became that the conversation was entirely one-sided. No reply came from his brother… no laugh, not even the faintest shuffle of footsteps. Lovino frowned in confusion. Was Feliciano really that determined not to give himself away? It seemed almost pointless… after all, he was the only other person with access to this apartment. Not giving himself away for a prank like this was… decidedly foolish.
“Alright, Feli, this silent treatment is really starting to piss me off! Just come out already!” Lovino snapped, irritation edging into his voice as the quiet dragged on.
He turned the lamp over in his hands, his thoughts drifting. How much had his brother spent on this ridiculous thing? And had he been the one who left it in his path earlier, causing him to trip? If so, he’d been annoyingly careful… Lovino hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of him. For a moment, the thought of ghosts or other nonsense flickered through his mind…
Shaking his head, he refocused on the lamp. “So you either come out,” he said, noticing a thin layer of dust still clinging to the copper and feeling a mild twinge of disapproval that Feliciano hadn’t bothered to clean it before bringing it inside, “or I won’t let you have any of the pasta I made…”
He ran a finger along the lamp, as if to wipe it clean, and, oddly, it felt warm almost instantly. Lovino raised an eyebrow. Perhaps his brother had poured oil inside, which would explain it, or maybe he was simply losing his mind thanks to Feliciano’s prank.
For a few moments, nothing happened. The warmth faded, and Lovino scoffed under his breath, convinced it was the latter.
But then, almost imperceptibly at first, the heat returned, crawling through the metal until it burned. Before he could react, the lamp flared to life. A blinding light erupted from the copper, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut and stumble back.
“What the—!” he shouted, staggering. The brightness pulsed behind his eyelids, and he had to wait several seconds before daring to open them. When he finally did, white spots still danced across his vision. For a fleeting second, he wondered if this was still part of Feliciano’s prank… but the thought vanished as quickly as it had come, because what happened next couldn’t possibly be anyone’s trick.
Where moments before there had been nothing—just empty air—now hovered a figure. Floating… no, flying, as if defying gravity. The surrounding air shimmered faintly, not just from the fading lamp, but from the figure itself, which seemed to glow with its own light. His skin gave off a soft, pale radiance… not the harsh glare of a bulb or the warm flicker of a flame, but something diffused, like sunlight filtered through mist. Or perhaps that wasn’t right… it was far more unsettling. Ethereal… that was closer.
And it wasn’t just the glow, or the fact that he hovered in midair, that unnerved Lovino. Every detail of the figure was uncanny. He wore a suit and tie traced with strange gold patterns, and his hair was pure white, catching the dim light with a cold, metallic gleam. But it was his eyes that unsettled Lovino most… red, so red they seemed almost like pools of blood, glaring against the pale, translucent cast of his face.
For a long stretch of time, Lovino could only stare. His mouth hung slightly open, but no words came out. Faced with something so blatantly impossible, what could he even say? The entire scene mocked every rule of logic, every law of nature he’d ever known.
Not that his silence mattered, for the hovering stranger soon broke it.
“Man!” he groaned, twisting and stretching as though waking from a very long nap. “I really need to stop respecting that stupid rule about staying inside until someone finds the lamp… my back is killing me!” He stretched again, the faint crack of joints echoing through the apartment. Then, halfway through the motion, he finally seemed to notice Lovino.
The discomfort on his face vanished at once, replaced by a wide, almost boyish grin. He floated lower, bending toward the Italian with curious delight. Instinctively, Lovino stepped back, nearly tripping over the rug, though his eyes stayed locked on the glowing stranger.
“Well, hello, new human!” the figure greeted cheerfully, waving as though they were old friends. After studying Lovino’s face for a moment, his grin only grew brighter. “Wow, you’ve got a look I haven’t seen before from one of the lamp holders!” he said, flipping upside down to inspect the brunet from another angle. “Hah! Finally, some variety!”
Lovino blinked, unsure whether to respond or just run. Before he could decide, the man was suddenly behind him. Startled, Lovino yelped and jumped forward, spinning around to face him.
“Not variety as in ethnicity or anything,” the man clarified with a chuckle, floating lazily in the air. “I mean, you’re young! I usually get middle-aged folks, sometimes older. They all start blending together after a while, you know?” He grinned again, then leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Just so you know, your eyes are really something. Hazel’s rare, less than five percent of people have it!“
Before Lovino could process that strange proposition of flattery, the man’s thoughts seemed to wander elsewhere. He floated upward, his gaze drifting to the ceiling.
“Ah, right!” he exclaimed suddenly, smacking his forehead. “I forgot to introduce myself! I swear, spend a few centuries in a lamp and your manners just evaporate.”
He gave a sheepish grin, then straightened with overdone formality. “Ahem. Allow me to correct that,” he said, clearing his throat. “I go by the name Gilbert, and I am the one—”
Before he could finish, he snapped his fingers. A soft glow bloomed behind him, and Lovino’s eyes widened as tiny sparks flared into existence, swirling upward like miniature fireworks. The lights grew brighter and brighter until, with a sudden burst, they exploded into a dazzling display that filled the room… right there inside Lovino’s house… before vanishing as quickly as they appeared.
“—and only—” Gilbert continued smoothly, his voice rising with exaggerated flourish.
This time, a second flash flared on the opposite side of the room, identical to the first and fading in the very same way. The Italian stumbled back a few steps, caught between awe and disbelief at the spectacle before him. It was, admittedly, a beautiful sight… but also horrifically unexplainable!
As the last glimmer of light vanished, Gilbert took center stage once more. With a sweeping gesture, he spread his arms wide, then brought them together to point proudly at himself. At that exact moment, a drumroll echoed through the air in perfect sync with his motion. There was, however, no drum to make that noise, nor a drummer, for that matter; just sound conjured from… nothing.
Lovino could only stare, his mind scrambling for any reasonable explanation but finding none.
“—Genie of the Lamp!” Gilbert declared, dipping into a grand, theatrical bow.
Then, as if the universe itself agreed with his declaration, a round of applause burst out… from nowhere, again! Lovino spun around, utterly bewildered, having no idea what in the world was happening anymore. Meanwhile, Gilbert paid his confusion no mind. Straightening from his bow, he adjusted his stance and fixed his gaze squarely on Lovino.
“You,” he announced, pointing at the confused Italian, “the new possessor of my lamp, are granted three wishes!”
He chuckled and drifted lazily to one side, pitching his voice higher as if doing a bad human impression. “‘Wow! Three whole wishes?’” Then, dropping back into his usual tone, he nodded proudly as though responding to himself. “That’s right! Three wishes, which I, the Genie, shall grant you. Make them now, later, or whenever the mood strikes, human!” He struck another flashy pose midair, grinning from ear to ear.
Before Lovino could even form a reply, or convince himself he hadn’t gone mad, Gilbert’s expression shifted. The grin faded, replaced by a sudden seriousness.
“But!” he said, raising one finger. “There are three things I cannot do. Three rules you must remember.”
Lovino blinked, still dazed from the spectacle.
“Number one: no bringing people back from the dead. Number two: no traveling into the future. And number three: no making anyone fall in love.”
The seriousness lasted only a moment before his smile returned. “Anything beyond that,” he said, sweeping his hand grandly through the air, “your wish is my command!”
He paused dramatically, eyes glinting with anticipation.
“So…” he said at last, his grin widening, “what’ll your first wish be?”
The so-called Genie—at least, that was what he claimed to be—expected the usual reaction from this human. Well, more or less. After all, he was a celestial being, with boundless knowledge and insight far beyond mortal reach. Not that anyone else needed to know that, of course…
Still, even for such a being, predicting human behavior was never simple. People were unpredictable creatures… impulsive, inconsistent, forever contradicting themselves. They changed their minds, made strange choices, and took turns no logic could have foreseen. Gilbert could glimpse all the branching paths their decisions might take, but knowing which one they’d actually choose? That was the difficult part.
Even so, experience had given him a fair idea of what to expect. This human, like most before, would probably be a little stunned at first, followed by disbelief, and then a question or two for good measure. Statistically speaking, that was the likeliest outcome.
And yet, ironically, the one reaction he least expected was exactly the one he got.
To understand why, we have to step into Lovino’s shoes for a moment. Otherwise, what comes next might sound… well, ridiculous.
Ahem.
Lovino stood frozen, eyes wide, staring at the… thing before him. It was neither man nor beast, nor anything he could neatly describe. It had appeared… or, more accurately, exploded, from a lamp. His reaction, filtered through roughly five overlapping stages of shock, horror, and sheer disbelief, boiled down to one word: terror.
And honestly, who could blame him? It’s not every day that something ripped straight from a fever dream bursts out of a lamp, declares itself a Genie, starts making strange things happen around you, and then casually begins discussing wishes.
So when the being—this so-called “Genie”—leaned forward and asked the dark-brunet, “…what will your first wish be?”
Lovino’s answer was simple, heartfelt, and left no room for interpretation:
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”
Yes. Lovino screamed at the top of his lungs.
“AHHHH! WHAT THE HELL—JUST—JUST…!” the Italian yelled desperately, stumbling backward until his spine hit the front door. His eyes were wide, fixed on the floating man before him in a mix of fear and disbelief. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU!?” he shouted, jabbing a finger accusingly at Gilbert.
For a moment, Gilbert only blinked, tilting his head in mild confusion. Well… that wasn’t quite the reaction he’d been aiming for. He’d startled people before, sure, but this level of panic was new.
He rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a sheepish laugh in an attempt to smooth things over. “Ah… I just told you what I am, didn’t I?” he said, trying for a friendly tone, though it came out more uncertain than he’d intended.
But Lovino didn’t seem to hear a word. His panic only mounted, spilling over in another burst of frantic shouting. “YOU—YOU EVIL SPIRIT! HAVE YOU COME TO TAKE MY SOUL?!” he cried, shaking his head so hard his hair whipped across his face. He pressed himself harder against the door, as if sheer willpower might keep the strange apparition at bay.
“Evil spirit?” Gilbert repeated, genuinely taken aback. “I’m not an evil spirit…” he muttered, sounding a little offended by the accusation. He was not an evil spirit.
“DEMON!” Lovino bellowed next, squeezing his eyes shut and continuing to point at him dramatically.
Gilbert sighed. “Ah… no…” he said, his voice now edged with even greater offence. Glowing, literally glowing with light, and still being mistaken for something infernal? How insulting.
“DEVIL!” Lovino shrieked, refusing to let up.
The so-called Genie frowned. “Now that’s just a synonym for the last one!” he snapped, crossing his arms, irritation flickering across his features. He wasn’t any of those things… if anything, he was their very opposite.
But the human wasn’t finished insulting him yet. Trembling, Lovino yanked a rosary from beneath his shirt and thrust it toward Gilbert as if it were a holy weapon. “WAAAAAAHHHHH! SATAN! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” he screamed, his voice cracking with terror.
This time, Gilbert didn’t feel mere annoyance… he felt genuine, deep insult. Being mistaken for a devil was one thing, but that name, the one that represented pure malice, crossed a line. His glow flared brighter, and his frown deepened as he drifted closer, the light cutting sharply across Lovino’s wide, panicked eyes.
“Now you listen—” he began, but his words were swallowed by another piercing shriek.
“AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Lovino’s scream split the air again, loud enough to make Gilbert wince. A human’s scream… making a celestial being wince. Yeah, that was a first. He clapped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as the awful ringing surged through his head, only daring to peek once the human finally ran out of breath.
“Okay…” Gilbert began cautiously, keeping his voice even. “That’s… my fault.” He raised both hands in a calming gesture. “My sudden approach probably startled you—”
He tried to smile, but another ear-splitting shriek cut him off.
“Ah.” Gilbert flinched, rubbing one ear. “Right. Understood.” He drifted backward a few feet, giving Lovino some space. “Personal space. Got it.”
He waited a few seconds to see if the human would shriek again. When no sound came, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. Thank heavens… that scream could probably shatter glass. Encouraged by the silence, he tried speaking again, hoping this time he could get his point across without interruption.
“Anyway,” he began, waving a hand vaguely, “you really ought to stop mentioning the… unholy when referring to me. I’m—” He straightened, clearing his throat with exaggerated dignity. “—a Genie. I have a lamp, and everything!” To prove his point, he jabbed a finger at the lamp still clutched in Lovino’s hands.
But the moment he did, something in the human’s expression shifted. Lovino’s eyes widened, locking onto the lamp as if the words had sparked a sudden realization. Gilbert tilted his head, letting out a faint hum as he took in the change. The fear that had lingered moments before was still there, but now it was joined by something else… determination, or perhaps the start of resolve.
That, of course, raised questions. Why was he suddenly so intent? And intent on what, exactly? Not that Gilbert couldn’t guess… foresight was ‘one of his gifts’, after all. As mentioned before, he could see the outcomes of every choice a human might make, though there were usually too many to bother sorting through, much less choosing one by probability. Besides, probabilities had already failed him once today, so perhaps it was best not to dwell on them…
He tried to press on regardless. “And I have good intentions! So I take offense when you—” But his words faltered as he noticed how tightly Lovino’s fingers now gripped the lamp, his expression set with startling certainty.
And perhaps Gilbert wouldn’t have thought much of it… if not for one particular outcome he could already see far too clearly. It was, to put it mildly, not in his favor. Worse yet, it also happened to be the most likely one… and you didn’t need to be any kind of otherworldly being to see that.
“Uh…” he began, a nervous laugh catching in his throat. “Please don’t do what I think you’re about to do.” His voice rose slightly when the other didn’t respond, still staring at the lamp. “Really, let’s not make this more complicated than it already is!” the supposed Genie tried again, forcing a laugh that fell flat.
Lovino, however, didn’t answer. He remained perfectly still, eyes fixed on the coppery lamp. After a long silence, he finally moved… but not in a way that boded well for Gilbert. His gaze drifted from the decoration to the balcony doors ahead…
“Hey—! You have no reason to—!” Gilbert’s voice sharpened as he lunged forward, only for the human to drop suddenly, slipping beneath him in one quick motion before darting straight for the balcony.
Gilbert spun midair, twisting upside down to follow him with his gaze. The Italian had already thrown open the door, and before Gilbert could blink, cold air rushed in as Lovino burst outside.
“Wait, wait, wait—!” the Genie exclaimed in sheer disbelief, materializing beside him in a flash… and instantly regretting it. The sudden appearance startled Lovino so much that he stumbled backward, hitting the railing with a thud.
“Whoa!” Gilbert called, raising his hands. “Careful there!” His eyes flicked to the street far below. “Humans can’t fly, you know! That’s a long fall!” He forced a reassuring smile, though worry laced his voice, for the human now perilously close to the edge, and for the choice he seemed determined to make…
Lovino didn’t answer. He simply turned, eyes locked on the horizon, the lamp still clutched tightly in his hand… though not for long, given the direction he was headed…
“Ah… come on, don’t be like this!” Gilbert pleaded, floating a little closer. “We can talk about this… peacefully, preferably.”
But Lovino wasn’t listening. Without a word, he raised his arm.
“Uh—! Can’t we just sit down and—”
Yet he didn’t get the chance to finish. The moment the words left his mouth, Lovino flung the lamp over the railing with all the strength he could muster. Gilbert’s eyes went wide as it sailed through the air, catching the light in a single glint before vanishing behind a distant building.
For a heartbeat, there was only silence. Lovino exhaled heavily, and the Genie just stared into the distance, his expression heavy with disappointment. Gilbert let out a long, exasperated sigh, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Oh, man… seriously?” he muttered, shaking his head in disapproval before glancing at the brunet. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to make that thing look authentic?”
He groaned, shading his eyes as he squinted at the horizon, as though the lamp… his lamp, might still be visible. “Not exactly the best first impression, I’ll admit…” Another weary sigh escaped him. And then, without warning, he vanished, as if he had never been there at all, leaving the stunned Italian alone on the balcony, heart hammering, hand still outstretched, the cold autumn air biting at his skin.
Lovino blinked at the empty space where the strange being had just stood. His heart thundered so violently he could feel it in his ears, the pulse coursing through him. Terrified didn’t even begin to cover it.
When he realized the figure was gone, a shaky sigh of relief slipped from his lips. Throwing the lamp must have worked. It must have gotten rid of… that. (And by “that,” he very much meant Gilbert.)
Slowly, he pulled himself away from the balcony railing, pressing both hands against his head. His fingers dug into his scalp as if he could force the chaos in his mind to quiet down.
“Oh… my God… oh my fucking God…” the words slipped out between ragged breaths. “That was… what even was that? A… a spirit? What the hell…”
His hands dragged down his face, leaving faint red streaks across his cheeks as a strained groan escaped him. He didn’t know what to believe… what to think, what to feel! How could he feel anything after witnessing something so impossible, so terrifying? None of it made sense. None of it could make sense.
And yet, even through the shaking and the pounding in his chest, the medical student in Lovino, the part of him that trusted reason above all else, tried to take over. That side told him to calm down, to breathe, to think. There had to be a logical explanation.
But another part of him, the terrified, near-tears part, was louder. It wanted to run straight to the nearest church, beg for sanctuary like people used to, and stay there until his body stopped trembling and his mind finally caught up.
Still, the rational side fought back. Whatever that thing was, whatever it claimed to be, it couldn’t have been a spirit, a ghost, or a genie. That was ridiculous. It had to be something else. A trick of the mind, most definitely. A mere hallucination. That’s what he told himself, anyway.
But the words rang hollow, for he could still hear it… the echo of that slightly grating, scratchy voice, clear as day in his mind. It had sounded so real, so vivid that his skin crawled just thinking about it. God damn it… It hadn’t felt imagined.
And yet, believing in anything supernatural was out of the question… it was absurd! So he did what every professor and doctor he’d ever met at university would have advised: he leaned on reason. As they always insisted, only scientifically proven facts were real. If something couldn’t be measured, observed, or tested, it didn’t exist. He kept to that belief, even if it failed to fully explain the sensations he had experienced…
“…Yeah…” Lovino whispered, trying to steady his racing heart and slow his ragged breathing. “Yeah, it was just… just a hallucination. I’m a medical student… barely sleeping…” He spoke the words to himself, hoping they’d chase the fear away. “Lack of sleep… can cause hallucinations. I… I learned that last year…”
He let out a long, shaky breath. “Ah… thank God there’s a logical explanation…”
But even as he said it, the knot in his chest refused to loosen. Maybe it would, eventually, once his mind was busy with other things. Anything but this unsettling, creepy episode that had just happened to him. If it had been an episode at all.
Trying to convince himself it had, Lovino turned back inside. He shut the balcony door with a soft click and rubbed at his eyes, sore and heavy from exhaustion. “I really need to get some sleep…” he muttered, forcing out a tired sigh. “Last thing I need is another hallucination—”
Yet the rest of the sentence died on his tongue. Because sitting on his couch, like he owned the place, was the very same “hallucination” he’d just tried to talk himself out of believing in.
What. The. Fuck.
Gilbert lounged there, one arm draped over the backrest, the lamp Lovino had just thrown over the balcony dangling from his fingers, perfectly intact for something that had just fallen six stories. He offered the Italian a smug grin.
For a long moment, Lovino couldn’t breathe. His eyes widened, his hand flew to his mouth, and the terror he’d only just managed to suppress came rushing back in full force. All the comfort he’d built on reason and logic was gone… completely gone!
And why? The answer was simple. With his modest medical background, Lovino knew hallucinations didn’t work like this. An illusion appearing exactly the same way twice, down to every detail, was impossible. Hallucinations aren’t recordings; they don’t replay like photographs or memories. Each one forms anew in the mind, shaped by chemicals, senses, and fragments of memory. The same person, in the same clothes, with every feature identical… that couldn’t happen naturally.
And the evidence didn’t lie. The man on the couch—no, the being—looked exactly as he had before: the same as on the balcony, the same as inside earlier.
Which meant there was only one conclusion: this wasn’t a hallucination. This was real.
Oh… fuck.
The genie’s grin deepened as he shifted lazily on the couch, a low chuckle escaping him. “I don’t think sleep alone will be enough to get rid of me,” he said, amusement lacing his voice as his gaze flicked toward Lovino. “But you can try.”
He gave a short whistle, tossing the lamp from one hand to the other. “Man, you really gave me a warm welcome, huh?” he laughed, catching it midair before it could fall. “Good thing I grabbed it before it hit the ground. Still… throwing my lamp? Pretty rude, not gonna lie.”
He shook his head in mock disapproval, but the act didn’t last. His grin softened into something almost gentle as he looked back at Lovino, who still stared at him as though he’d crawled straight out of a nightmare.
“Now then,” he said, setting the lamp beside him on the couch before rising, his feet hovering just above the floor, “you’re still afraid of me, aren’t you?”
Lovino didn’t answer. His hand stayed clamped over his mouth, his wide eyes locked on the genie as his mind scrambled for an explanation, but none came. The harder he tried to reason it out, the more his thoughts tangled into knots. If this… thing was real, then what did that mean for everything else? For logic itself? What even was logic now? He didn’t know anymore!
At his silence and wide-eyed stare, the so-called genie let out a quiet sigh. “I’ll take that as a yes, then…” he murmured, lowering himself until his feet touched the hardwood floor. He hesitated, clearly not wanting to alarm the already frantic man, before taking a slow, careful step forward. “Then allow me to apologize for frightening you, Lovino.” His voice was soft, gentle, hardly frightening at all…
Lovino blinked at the sound of his name. Slowly, reluctantly, he lowered his hand. A faint frown creased his brow as he asked, voice unsteady, “How… do you know my name?”
The white-haired man chuckled, as though the question itself amused him.
“I’m a being of boundless knowledge,” he said lightly once his laughter faded. “Of course I know your name! I know everything about you! What you’ve done, what you’ll do… every possible outcome. I see them all.”
He paused, his grin turning a bit sheepish. “That said, even with all that knowledge, your reaction still caught me off guard. I saw it coming, sure, but I didn’t think it’d rank that high among the odds. It was just so—” He broke off with another laugh. “—unexpected!”
With a dramatic sweep of his arm, he continued, “Usually humans are more like ‘Wow!’” He threw his hands up, eyes wide in mock awe. “Not ‘Wah!’” He hunched down, pretending to cower, then straightened again with an easy laugh.
Through it all, Lovino could only stare at the supposed genie, disbelief and confusion tangled across his face. His throat was dry, his thoughts a jumbled mess. This was a genie… an actual genie. A being from bedtime tales, something he’d never believed in, yet here one stood, real as the floor beneath him. The encounter shook the very foundation of what he thought he knew about the world, raising questions he’d never imagined asking. If genies exist… then what else? Mermaids? Vampires? At this rate, they might as well!
“How…” His voice faltered. His gaze dropped to the floor as he struggled to find the right words. His fingers twitched restlessly, betraying the confusion spiraling in his head, before he forced himself to look up again.
Those red eyes were still fixed on him… bright and intense, and far too curious for comfort. Trying not to let them scare the living daylights out of him once more, the Italian pressed on. “How is this… possible?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t think genies actually existed…”
Gilbert merely smiled, the corners of his mouth curling with amusement. “What a great question!” he exclaimed, giving the other man a brief round of applause that only deepened Lovino’s confusion. Then he stopped, cleared his throat in a somewhat sheepish way, and added, “Too bad I can’t offer more than what meets the eye! Hah…”
It sounded like a joke, but something in his voice made Lovino think he could have explained everything if he wanted to.
Lovino frowned. “What…?” he muttered, baffled. “What kind of answer is that? It doesn’t make any sense…”
“Perhaps not!” the genie replied cheerfully, completely unfazed. “But sense is terribly overrated, don’t you think?”
Lovino shot him a flat look. His mind was still spinning, and the lack of answers wasn’t helping.
“Well, anyway,” Gilbert said briskly, clearing his throat as if to reset the moment, “since you weren’t exactly paying attention during my very impressive introduction—and now that you seem calmer and unlikely to throw any more lamps off balconies—yes?”
The Italian sighed and gave a reluctant nod. Maybe he’d get his answers after this so-called introduction the genie insisted on redoing…
“Excellent!” Gilbert clapped his hands together, beaming. “Then I’ll do it properly this time. Sharpen your eyes and ears, human!”
Before Lovino could respond, the genie launched straight into his performance.
“I am the genie of the lamp you now hold,” he declared, bowing with an exaggerated flourish. Lovino rolled his eyes despite himself. The display was almost painful in its overblown theatrics.
“You may call me Gilbert,” the genie went on, straightening dramatically. “I shall grant you three wishes. But—” His tone dropped suddenly, cutting through the showmanship, “there are three things I cannot provide.”
He raised a finger. “No bringing people back from the dead.”
A second. “No traveling into the future.”
And a third. “No making people fall in love.”
“Beyond that,” he went on, the seriousness vanishing as quickly as it came, “anything you desire will be my command.” He extended a hand toward Lovino, red eyes catching the light with something almost unnatural. “So…” His tone softened. “What is it you wish for, Lovino Vargas?”
Lovino stared up at him. Watching this strange, luminous figure grin like an overexcited kid, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d wandered into something deeply unhinged… though, to be fair, he’d suspected that much from the start.