My Goddess! - Chapter 12: A Tragic Race, The One The Avoids Happiness

Tristan and Dylan tore down the neighborhood streets, the university looming in the distance like the finish line of an epic race. Both were driven by the fierce competitiveness that had always defined their friendship, each trying to outpace the other. They ran neck and neck, neither willing to give an inch, their feet pounding against the pavement in perfect synchronization.

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"They always get so into it," Whitney remarked, shaking his head with a smile. "It's like watching two kids in a playground."54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPXDiS1za2K

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Loraura nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "How fun," she said, smiling. "It's always good to see such passion."

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"You won't beat me this time!" Dylan yelled, his voice strained between short, labored breaths. He shot a glance at Tristan, determination burning in his eyes.

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Tristan smirked, his breath steady and composed. "You think so, huh?"

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With that, Tristan began to pick up his pace, gradually pulling ahead of Dylan. The gap between them widened as Tristan's natural speed and endurance began to show.

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"Dammit!" Dylan growled, pumping his arms and legs with all his might, desperate to close the gap.

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Tristan glanced back at Dylan, laughing. "Hey, don't push yourself too hard!"

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They were nearing the end of the block now, the university just across the busy street. Tristan, seeing the crosswalk and the cars rushing by, wisely started to slow down. But as he eased up, he heard the familiar voice of his friend yelling from behind.

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"You won't beat me!!!" Dylan screamed, refusing to slow down as he barreled ahead, oblivious to the traffic.

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"Dylan, wait!" Tristan yelled, panic rising in his chest.

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But Dylan didn't hear him—or maybe he did and just didn't care. He sprinted past Tristan, his eyes locked on the imaginary finish line, his mind too focused on winning to notice the danger he was running into. The street was alive with the sounds of car horns blaring, but Dylan was deaf to them, his focus entirely on the race.

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"Dammit," Tristan muttered under his breath, his eyes locking onto Dylan as he charged forward recklessly.

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In a split second, Tristan's body seemed to blur with speed as he reacted. "Dylan!!!" he shouted, his voice a mix of fear and urgency. He pushed off the ground with everything he had, launching himself toward Dylan, his arms outstretched.

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He reached for Dylan's back, his heart pounding in his ears as his hand drew closer to Dylan's collar.

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Cars rushed past, their drivers slamming on their brakes and blaring their horns, the sound echoing like an alarm.

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Tristan's fingers brushed against Dylan's shirt, and with a final, desperate lunge, he managed to grab hold of his friend's collar, yanking him back just as a car sped through the crosswalk, missing them by inches.

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Both boys tumbled onto the sidewalk, Tristan's breath coming in heavy gasps, and Dylan's eyes wide with shock as he finally realized what had almost happened.

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"Are you insane?!" Tristan panted, still gripping Dylan's shirt tightly.

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Dylan, for once, was speechless, his chest heaving as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked at Tristan, then back at the street, where the car had already sped off.

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"Dang!" Dylan finally muttered, his voice shaky. "That was close..."

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Tristan released his grip, letting out a deep sigh. "You've got to be more careful. No race is worth getting killed over."

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Dylan nodded as the reality of the situation sank in. "Yeah, yeah," he said, scratching his head. "So since you feel that way, we'll just call this one a draw, okay?"

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Tristan looked at Dylan with shock. "You're still concerned about the contest... you're unbelievable."

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The two boys slowly got to their feet. As they did, they heard the rushing footsteps of Loraura and Whitney, who had managed to catch up, both looking worried.

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"Is everything okay?" Loraura asked, her eyes full of concern.

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"Yeah," Tristan said, his voice still a bit shaky. "Everything's fine now," he said, rubbing his left shoulder. "We just had a little accident."

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Whitney shook his head as he noticed broken glass on the ground. He looked at Dylan with a mix of disbelief and relief. "Man, you really need to chill with these challenges."

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Dylan laughed out loud, resting both of his hands on his hips. "What do you mean? I can go all day! This little accident won't stop me!" he yelled.

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They all stood there for a moment, looking at Dylan's confident face.

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"You really are a piece of work, aren't you?" Whitney asked.

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Dylan looked toward Whitney, grunting. "What's that supposed to mean?"

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"What do you think?" Whitney yelled.

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"Enough!" Tristan shouted as he stepped between his two friends. "Let's get going before we're late." Tristan then looked toward Loraura, who returned his gaze with worried eyes. "Come on, Loraura, let's go," he said, reaching out his hand.

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Loraura looked at Tristan, her gaze still filled with worry. She slowly grabbed his hand, and together they began to walk toward the university.

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"Alright, I think it's time that we all go our separate ways," Whitney said as the whole group arrived at the front of the college.

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"Yeah, I guess your classes are about to start, aren't they?" Tristan replied. "Well, have a good day," he added with a small wave.

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"It was nice to meet both of you," Loraura said, her smile finally returning.

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Whitney's cheeks turned bright red. "It was my greatest honor to meet you as well, Loraura." He grabbed hold of both her hands. "And remember, if you ever want to be with a real man, I'll always be here."

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"Uh..." Loraura was at a loss for words.

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"Enough!" Tristan snapped, smacking Whitney's hands away. "Get lost."

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"Alright, no need to get rough," Whitney said, shaking his hands to relieve the sting. "See ya around, you jerk." He smiled as he began to walk away. "Come on, Dylan," he called.

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Dylan gave Tristan a determined look. "Get ready, Tristan, because our next match will be my win," he said before walking away with Whitney.

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Tristan laughed. "Yeah, right, it will..."

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As Dylan and Whitney disappeared into the crowd, Tristan turned to Loraura. "Sorry about them. They're... a bit much sometimes."

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Tristan fell silent as he noticed the concerned look on Loraura's face.

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"What's wrong?" he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

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"Your left arm," Loraura said quietly, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "It's injured."

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Tristan glanced down at his arm, noticing the dull ache he'd been ignoring. "Yeah, I guess that car didn't completely miss me," he replied with a forced chuckle.

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Loraura didn't share his amusement. Instead, she gently grabbed his right arm. "Come with me," she said, her tone soft but insistent. She led him to a secluded spot behind one of the school buildings, away from the bustling campus.

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"Loraura, what's going on?" Tristan asked, feeling a mix of curiosity and concern.

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Without answering, Loraura focused on his injured arm. She hovered her hands above it, her eyes narrowing in concentration. She took a deep breath, and a soft blue light began to glow from her palms, bathing Tristan's arm in a warm, soothing aura.

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"Don't move... let me heal you," Loraura instructed, her voice calm but commanding.

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Tristan watched in awe as the light from her hands grew brighter, spreading warmth through his arm. The pain he'd felt moments before began to fade, replaced by a sensation of relief and calm.

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After a few moments, the light dimmed, and Loraura slowly lowered her hands. She looked up at Tristan, her expression a mix of concern and something else—something deeper.

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"How do you feel?" she asked softly.

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Tristan flexed his arm, rotating it gently. The pain was gone, as if it had never existed. "It feels... perfect," he said.

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"Tristan," Loraura called softly, her voice laced with concern.

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Tristan stopped fiddling with his arm and looked down at her, noticing the troubled expression in her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked, his worry deepening.

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Loraura hesitated, searching his face. "Tristan... why do you carry such heavy burdens all by yourself?"

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Her question hung in the air, and Tristan found himself at a loss for words. It was as if her words had struck a chord he didn't realize was there.

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Loraura continued, her gaze never leaving his. "I haven't been in the human world for very long, but from what I've seen, it's a place filled with beauty and happiness." She looked around at the world with a soft smile, then turned back to Tristan, her expression more serious. "So why do you seem to desire so little of that happiness?"

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"I..." Tristan began, stepping back as if her words had physically pushed him. His face momentarily flashed with panic before he managed to steady himself. "Loraura, I want to be happy," he said, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

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"That's not the whole truth," Loraura replied, her voice gentle yet firm.

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Tristan blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

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"A few gods have the ability to distinguish truth from lies," she explained, her tone unwavering but kind.

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Tristan swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. He tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered. "Look, it's not that I don't want to be happy," he said, his voice strained. "But, for someone like me, happiness feels more like a luxury."

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Loraura watched him closely, her heart aching at the sadness behind his words. "Why... why would you say that?" she thought to herself, unable to understand why someone who had shown her so much kindness would deny himself the same.

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Tristan turned away, not meeting her gaze. "There are things I've been through... things I've seen," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't just ignore them and chase after happiness like it's something I deserve. I have responsibilities, things I need to atone for."

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Loraura felt a deep sadness for Tristan, sensing the pain he carried but not fully understanding its depth. "You don't have to bear it alone," she said quietly, though she wasn't sure if he heard her.

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Tristan paused, his shoulders tense as if he was fighting an internal battle. But instead of responding, he simply walked away, leaving Loraura standing there with a heavy heart.

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"Why... why would you say that?"

***

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