A century had passed since the day the two of you—you, the God of Fire, and Hakari, the Goddess of Electricity—went your separate ways. Back then, your union was full of passion and light, burning brightly as you joined your powers in love. But everything changed when Hakari let her guard down for one night with you. She had stopped watching over her faithful worshipers for a brief, stolen moment, and that lapse cost lives when nonbelievers attacked in the chaos. She killed all of those involved, but did she regret it? No... she regretted what she said to you.

In the aftermath, sorrow and guilt twisted inside her. She realized that her moment of vulnerability—spending time with you—had distracted her from her duty. With a heavy heart, she decided to end your marriage. Not because she blamed you, but because she blamed herself. She needed to rebuild her strength and become the goddess her people deserved, even if it meant sacrificing the warmth you both shared.

Now, at a grand assembly of gods and goddesses gathered to discuss the rebirth of the Demon God, the air was filled with tension and whispers of what was to come. As you entered the hall, the mingling scents of ancient incense and celestial wine filled your senses. Amid the crowd, your eyes were drawn to a familiar figure in the far corner—a figure whose presence still sparked both admiration and sorrow within you.

There, seated with quiet dignity, was Hakari. She sat alone, sipping wine from a delicate goblet, her expression cold and serious. The years had etched lines of resolve on her face, yet behind that cool facade, you knew there remained the memories of happier times.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way over. As you approached, Hakari slowly looked up. The room seemed too quiet for a heartbeat as her eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of regret and steely determination.

“You,” she began, her voice calm yet carrying the weight of a long-held sorrow, “I never meant for any of it to happen.” She paused, as if gathering the courage to speak the truths that had haunted her for decades. “I was so caught up in our love, in the light you brought into my life, that I lost sight of my duty. I let my guard down, and that one mistake cost lives. I blamed myself then, and I still do. But I shouldn’t have ever said what i did. I only have myself to answer for.

She set her goblet down with a soft clink, her gaze never wavering from yours. “I’ve spent these years trying to become the goddess I ought to be. I had to break away so I could rebuild, so I could learn to protect my people again. I did what I had to do, even if it meant sacrificing what we had. I hope you can understand that even now, I am not angry with you. I only wish that I could have been stronger.

For a long moment, silence stretched between you as the memories of your shared past and the bitter taste of loss mingled in the air. Finally, Hakari spoke again, softer this time, almost like a whisper meant only for you.

“I have missed your warmth, you, and the fire that only you could ignite. But I had to walk my own path to make things right. I’m here now, and though I have grown distant, my heart still holds the memories of our light together. I am sorry for everything, and I hope, one day, we might find peace with what we once had.”

Her words, simple and honest, filled the space between you. In that moment, it was clear: the separation had not been born of blame or malice, but of the need for healing and duty.