After The Fall: Awakening

Hermes dragged his feet down the street, his entire body aching like hell. Every step felt like he was carrying a mountain on his back.

"Sh*t… I still have to fix my damn door when I get home," he muttered, groaning.

Just the thought of having to deal with that broken doorknob made him want to collapse right there on the sidewalk.

When he finally reached his apartment, he let out a long sigh. But the moment he looked up, his eyes widened.

His door… was fixed.

"Huh?" He blinked, rubbing his eyes just to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

Reaching out, he turned the knob. It worked perfectly.

"What the hell? Who fixed this?" he muttered, looking around suspiciously.

"Did Azrael do this? No way. That guy was more likely to break something than fix it."

"Haaah… whatever," Hermes sighed. "I just wanna sleep."

Without another thought, he stumbled inside, threw himself onto the bed, and knocked out instantly.

---

The Next Morning – Rhea's Perspective

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Rhea threw punches at the punching bag in her room, her movements sharp and aggressive.

"That idiot!" she grumbled.

Another punch.

"He didn't even apologize!"

A kick.

"Does he think I'll just forgive him like that?! No way!"

She huffed, switching to squats, still fuming.

Suddenly—

"RHEAAAA! RHEAAAA!"

Rhea's eye twitched.

"Who the hell is screaming so early in the morning?!" she snapped, stomping toward the window.

She peered outside and sighed when she saw who it was.

"Irish, you idiot! Stop yelling!"

Irish grinned up at her.

"Why are you so mad this early?!"

"Ugh, just come inside already!"

A few minutes later, Rhea was making coffee in the kitchen while Irish sat comfortably on the couch.

"So," Irish started, leaning forward.

"Why are you so pissed off?"

Rhea groaned.

"It's Hermes! That jerk called me a monkey when I was mad! And he didn't even apologize! Can you believe that?!"

Irish gasped dramatically.

"Ohhh, speaking of Hermes…"

She leaned in with a smirk.

"Did you know Oliver's group jumped him again after school?"

Rhea paused.

The spoon in her hand stopped moving.

"What?" Her voice was quieter now.

Irish sighed.

"Yeah. They waited for him and beat him up. Again."

Rhea clenched her fists.

"Again?" she muttered.

A wave of guilt hit her.

She slammed a cup of coffee onto the table.

"Those bastards! They always pick on someone weaker than them! I swear, they're disgusting!"

Irish reached for the coffee, took a sip—then gagged.

"UGH! Why is this so bitter?!"

she coughed. "Did you pour all your anger into this?!"

Rhea blinked, then smiled sweetly.

"Hehe, sorryyy. I'll make you a new one."

Irish watched her with amusement.

"You feel bad for him, don't you?"

Rhea sighed, crossing her arms.

"Obviously… Now I feel guilty. I even punched him in the stomach this morning."

Irish grinned.

"So? Are you gonna check on him, or wait for him to come crawling to you?"

Rhea pouted. "I don't know…"

Irish took another sip of coffee, smirking.

"Your choice~ But honestly? I feel bad for him. He's kinda cute, you know?"

Rhea rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

---

Hermes' Morning

Hermes groaned, slowly opening his eyes. His body still felt like it had been hit by a truck.

He grabbed his phone.

11:43 AM.

"Sh*t, I overslept," he mumbled.

The moment he tried to sit up, pain shot through his body.

"Damn… everything hurts."

Still, he forced himself up. But the second he opened his door, he froze.

There was something on the ground.

A neatly packed meal with a small note attached.

"Get well! ❤️❤️"

Hermes blinked. His groggy mind tried to process what he was looking at.

Then, a small smile crept onto his face.

"Hehe… Who left this? Was it Rhea?"

His stomach growled.

"Well, whoever it was, I'm not wasting it," he grinned, sitting down and eating happily.

As he ate, his thoughts drifted to training.

"Tomorrow was gonna be hell again, wasn't it?"

After finishing his meal, he decided to head to the convenience store to buy some salonpas.

---

Hermes walked through the streets, his hands tucked into his pockets. His muscles were still sore, but at least he wasn't half-dead anymore.

That's when he saw her.

A familiar figure walking ahead.

"Is that… Irish?"

She was walking casually, seemingly lost in thought.

As they passed each other, Hermes expected her to at least acknowledge him.

But she didn't.

She walked right past him.

Not even a glance.

"Huh?" Hermes frowned.

"What the hell? Is she ignoring me?"

Meanwhile, Irish, now a few steps away, stole a quick glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"Who is that? Is he new here? Damn… He's tall… and kinda handsome…"

She bit her lip.

"Should I say something? No, no, that'd be weird. What if he thinks I'm creepy?"

And so, they both continued walking in opposite directions, completely unaware of each other's thoughts.

---

At the Convenience Store

Hermes grabbed a pack of salonpas and walked up to the counter.

The cashier, a man in his mid-thirties, gave him a weird look.

"Are you new around here, sir?"

Hermes raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? No, I've been living here for a while. I come here all the time."

The cashier blinked in confusion.

"H-huh?"

Hermes smirked, handing over the money. "Thanks, man."

With that, he took his things and left, still chuckling to himself.

---

After returning to his apartment, Hermes carefully placed the salonpas on his aching muscles before collapsing onto his bed.

His last thought before drifting off?

"Tomorrow's gonna be hell."