I became Villain's Best Friend

Seraphina swallowed hard, guilt twisting in her chest. "Lucian… I'm sorry."

Lucian exhaled sharply, his usual cold expression softening just a little. He reached forward, fingers gently brushing against the wound on her forehead. The skin was swollen, a thin streak of dried blood trailing down the side of her face.

He clenched his jaw. She shouldn't have to live like this.

"I don't want sorry," he muttered, his voice low but firm. "I want a promise."

Seraphina blinked as Lucian raised his pinky finger between them.

"Promise me that you'll never do something this reckless again."

Her breath hitched.

A promise.

A memory flickered in her mind—of a time long ago, when a silver-haired boy had offered her shelter, safety, and a home in this small corner of the slums. She had met Lucian a year ago, when she was nothing more than a malnourished girl clutching a baby boy in her arms. She had been filthy, weak, barely standing on her feet… but Ralph had been clean. He had been healthy.

Lucian had taken one look at them and understood.

Even in a world where food was scarce, where survival meant turning against each other, Seraphina had chosen to starve for her little brother. And because of that, Lucian had taken them in, giving them a place in his slum—a place he protected with everything he had.

This part of the slums was different. The filth of the outside world—the drunkards, the violent criminals, the ones who preyed on the weak—Lucian never let them in.

He had built this place for the children who had nowhere else to go.

For the family he had created.

And yet, now, his closest friend was risking everything.

Seraphina hesitated. She wanted to promise, but… what else could she do?

Lucian's blue eyes darkened. His voice dropped lower, colder.

"If you keep stealing, then forget it," he said. "Forget our friendship. I won't stand by and watch you throw your life away."

Seraphina's breath caught. He was serious.

She scoffed, puffing out her cheeks like a pufferfish—but the second she winced in pain from her swollen wound, she deflated. Finally, she hooked her pinky with his.

"Okay," she muttered, eyes flickering with something unreadable. "I won't steal again."

Lucian's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her face. Something had changed in her—something he couldn't quite place.

Seraphina, still reeling from the strange, vivid memories in her mind, was coming to terms with something unbelievable. This world… it wasn't what she thought it was.

Maybe—just maybe—she could use those memories to change their fate.

But she needed time.

Her head ached just thinking about it.

Lucian sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. Their situation was bad—too bad. He didn't know how to make it better, and the weight of that realization sat heavily on his shoulders.

But at the very least, he could do this.

Without a word, he raised his hand over Seraphina's wound, fingers glowing faintly.

Seraphina's eyes widened in alarm. She knew what that meant.

"No!" She grabbed his wrist, her hazel eyes filled with desperation. "Lucian, don't—!"

His magic flickered in the dim light.

Lucian was a dark magic user. Healing magic wasn't his forte—it hurt him. Every time he used light magic, his body took the damage instead. If he healed her now, he'd be out cold for at least a day, maybe more.

She knew that.

And yet—

Lucian met her gaze, his lips curling into the faintest smile.

"Remember this," he murmured, "and never do it again… for me, that is."

A warm glow spread over Seraphina's forehead, sealing the wound shut. The pain vanished in an instant.

Lucian's body, however, swayed. His expression paled, his breath turning ragged.

Seraphina's heart dropped.

"I was wrong…" she whispered, her voice cracking as she saw his knees give out beneath him.

Lucian collapsed.

Seraphina lunged forward, catching him before he hit the ground. His body felt ice-cold, his breathing uneven.

Yet, even as his consciousness slipped, he smiled at her.

Tears welled up in Seraphina's eyes. She wasn't sure who she was apologizing to anymore—Lucian, Ralph, or herself.

She dragged him onto the small, tattered mattress that served as her bed, her hands trembling. "I'm sorry," she muttered again, voice shaking.

Sorry for being this helpless.

Sorry for making things worse for the people who protected her.

A small, warm weight crashed into her side.

"Sister…" Ralph mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. His tiny arms wrapped around her waist, his body warm and soft. He had cried himself to sleep, his face still damp with tears.

Seraphina's breath shuddered.

Her gaze flickered between Ralph's peaceful sleeping face and Lucian's unconscious form.

They were relying on her.

For the first time since those strange memories had surfaced, she felt a sharp, unyielding determination take root in her chest.

No more.

She gently stroked Ralph's hair, her other hand curling into a fist.

And then, she closed her eyes.

The memories of another life swirled in her mind—strange, distant, yet crystal clear.

If she could just understand them… process them… maybe—just maybe—she could change everything.

With that final thought, she steadied her breathing and dove into the memories of another world.