The Temple of Fate sat within the Upper Level of the God Realm. Within that divine world, it was a place of immense prestige, second only to the Sanctuary itself. Only the Supreme Gods and their direct subordinates were permitted entry.
The master of this temple, the Goddess of Fate, was currently occupied—wearing, for some reason, a pink apron while she cooked.
"Hmph~ hmm~♪"
Fate hummed a cheerful tune, a bright smile on her face that made it obvious she was in high spirits. Trays of cookies baked to a beautiful golden brown were lined up on the table. She picked one up and popped it into her mouth.
"Yep! Delicious! As expected of me. I just don't usually do it, but I can definitely deliver when I try!"
Satisfied with the results, she continued her merry work, placing the finished treats into bags decorated with adorable gift wrapping.
"I wonder if Kai-chan will be happy? I was so busy with things for Shallow Vernal-sama during the Six Kings Festival, and then I was stuck doing commentary at the birthday party... I haven't really had a chance to play with him much."
She continued to mutter to herself with a beaming smile as she finished the packaging. Then, holding the cookies, Fate hopped onto her favorite cushion.
She was just about to head off toward Kaito when she tilted her head and stopped dead in her tracks.
"...Wait, what am I doing? Why am I voluntarily doing something as tedious as cooking?"
She had been so giddy that she hadn't noticed until this very moment, but she had finally registered the sheer abnormality of her own behavior.
Fate stood there, staring intently at the package of cookies in her hand. Her expression grew deadly serious.
"...This is weird, right? I mean, think about it. I’m supposed to be spending my days lazily sleeping while making moves on Kai-chan so he'll eventually support my NEET lifestyle. So why on earth am I putting time and effort into making home-cooked food? N-No, wait, this must be it! Home cooking makes it easier to capture a man's heart... B-But before, I used to just bring snacks I’d forced the Goddess of Harvest to bake, didn't I?"
Something was bothering her. Fate continued to grumble to the empty air of the temple.
"...At this rate, it's almost as if I actually want Kai-chan to eat my cooking... N-No, that's not it! I'm only making moves on him so I can quit working. Kai-chan is a softie, so I'm just taking advantage of him... Y-Yeah, that's it. No way. Absolutely not."
She seemed visibly shaken. She shook her head several times, her expression turning frantic as she struggled to find an explanation.
"There's no way that's happening! I'm a God! A Supreme God! There is no universe where I would fall for a mere human! I-I mean, sure, Kai-chan is an interesting boy and I have a fairly high opinion of him, but that's just because I think he'll be useful to me. Romance? Zero! None!"
As she rambled, her eyes happened to fall on the cushion she was currently sitting on—the favorite cushion Kaito had given her as a gift. She fell silent.
"...N-No... You're wrong! I only like this because it's a high-quality cushion! The fact that Kai-chan gave it to me is completely irrelevant! My being happy when I got it was just an act! An act to make sure he'll take care of me later!"
She whispered as if pleading her case to herself. Then, she lapsed into thought, a small, tender smile drifting across her lips.
"The date with Kai-chan was so much fun—Gah!? N-No, no, no!!"
She shook her head violently.
"No, that's impossible... That would mean the means and the objective have been reversed. It's not like that, right? There's no way that while I was just trying to win him over, I actually ended up falling for him... right?"
The heart is a fickle thing, often difficult to understand. It seemed that truth applied even to a Supreme God.
The love for Kaito that had begun to sprout in her heart—she truly hadn't noticed it until now. The "advances" she was supposed to be making just to secure her lazy future had, at some point, become the goal itself.
Fate's face flushed a deep crimson, and her eyes began to dart around in total confusion.
"...T-That's right... I have to work."
Finally pushed to the brink of panic, Fate did the thing most alien to her nature. She sat down at her executive desk—a piece of furniture she had used only a handful of times since the temple’s creation—and began working with desperate intensity as if trying to outrun her own thoughts.
Several dozen minutes into this unprecedented work session, the massive doors to the room swung open.
"Goddess of Fate! Today is the day you finally deal with this mountain of accumulated reports—"
"Shut up, Goddess of Space-Time! I'm working right now, so don't get in my way! I've already finished the reports and put them in a pile over there!!"
"You always... Wait, what? What did you just say?"
"I said the reports are over there! You're distracting me, so just take them and get out!"
"...Huh?"
Hearing Fate's snapping reply, Chronoa stood frozen, her jaw dropping. Her expression was one of pure, unadulterated shock—a look completely unbecoming of her usual dignity. But given the circumstances, it was unavoidable.
With her eyes wide, Chronoa looked back and forth between Fate and the stack of reports several times. She reached out with a trembling hand, checked the documents, and then spoke with a pale face.
"...U-Um, Fate? Are you... okay? Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm perfectly normal!"
"I-I see... Uh, well... Listen, you mustn't overwork yourself. This, uh, it's not like these are urgent. Maybe you should take a break or something..."
The sight of Fate working was so unnatural that Chronoa sounded genuinely terrified. The fact that the Goddess of Space-Time, who usually hounded her to work, was now telling her to stop showed just how much this had disturbed her.
"I! SAID! I'm busy! GET OUT!!"
"M-My apologies! I’m leaving!!"
Driven back by Fate's sheer aura, Chronoa scrambled out of the temple. It would take a long time before her brain managed to process what she had just seen.
As for Fate, she continued to work with singular, frantic focus, her voice a constant, tiny whisper.
"...N-No... I'm not... I didn't fall for him... It’s not like that..."
She repeated the denial over and over, but no matter how hard she tried to look away, the feelings that had already taken root refused to vanish.
In fact, quite the opposite—once acknowledged, those feelings seemed to grow larger with every attempt to deny them.