“I’m ‘hiatari futsuu’—just the usual sunbeam,” she said, tapping the south-facing window. “My job is to exist in your light. Literally. Your sunlight powers my halo. Without it, I’d just be a weird girl on your floor.”
He got up, walked to the fridge, and pulled out a small potted succulent he’d bought the day after she arrived—just in case.
“No,” he replied, looking at the empty, south-facing window. “Now I know what to pray for.” Watch One Room- Hiatari Futsuu- Tenshi-tsuki. E...
“The Bureau messaged,” she whispered. “They found the error. The old man on the fourth floor… he’s been praying for company every night. I have to go.”
“You’ll be lonely again,” she said. Your sunlight powers my halo
Nelly was terrible at being an angel. She couldn’t heal his paper cut—she just blew on it and said, “There, blessed.” She couldn’t provide divine wisdom—she used his textbooks as a pillow. What she could do was hover. She’d float near the ceiling, legs crossed, and watch him study for hours.
“You’re not doing anything,” he grumbled one rainy evening. “Now I know what to pray for
Touya hadn’t prayed. He’d been talking to his dead succulent.
She vanished with the sunrise, leaving behind a single feather and a refrigerator stocked with pudding.
Nelly’s halo blazed bright, then soft. She took the plant, hugged it, and pressed her forehead to his.