The city lights shimmered below, painting the streets in streaks of yellow and white. Haruta Hanami perched on the edge of a rooftop, his gaze steady as he scanned the crowds below, ear tuned into the distant beat of a band playing at an open-air café. His mission tonight required a light touch—a gentle nudge here, a well-timed intervention there. Subtle and quick.
"Target is on-site," he muttered into his earpiece, adjusting his position. This wasn't his first mission, not by a long shot. And yet, as he scanned the scene, he felt a pang of something close to nostalgia.
A soft laugh crackled through his earpiece. "Sentimental, Haruta?" came Livia's teasing voice, her familiar tone laced with amusement.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Just feels like it was only yesterday that you dropped into my room and changed my life."
"One year isn't long enough to get nostalgic," she replied, though he could hear the smile in her voice. "Remember, your target's solo and convinced he's immune to love. You'll have to make this one count."
Haruta took a breath, focusing back on his mission. The faint sound of Livia's voice seemed to linger in the air, grounding him. He'd made it far in just a year—much further than he'd ever expected on that strange first night.
---
One Year Earlier
Haruta Hanami stood outside the school gym, his hands nervously clutching a small bouquet. He'd spent weeks preparing for this moment, convincing himself that he could do it, that this confession was exactly what he needed to break free from his perpetual streak of bad luck in love. He'd picked Ayame, the girl who'd caught his eye from day one. She was kind, effortlessly graceful, and always seemed to light up the room.
Taking a deep breath, he walked through the open doors and spotted her at the far end of the hallway, laughing with her friends. His heart hammered as he approached, forcing himself to focus on each step until he finally stood in front of her, blocking out everyone else in the world.
"Uh… Ayame?" he managed, voice wavering slightly.
She turned to him, surprised. "Haruta! What's up?"
He swallowed, feeling his palms grow clammy as he held out the flowers. "I… I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you think we could—maybe go out sometime?"
The words felt strange in his mouth, clumsy and awkward. He'd rehearsed them so many times, but under her gaze, he felt completely vulnerable.
Ayame blinked, her face softening in a way that somehow made everything worse. She took a step back, folding her arms. "Oh, Haruta… that's really sweet of you. But I've never thought of you that way. You're like… a little brother, you know?"
His stomach dropped, and a wave of heat rose to his cheeks. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as her words echoed in his ears. He managed a strained smile, feeling the need to keep things light despite the sharp sting of rejection.
"Ah… I get it. Sorry, I didn't mean to make things weird."
She shook her head quickly, smiling. "No, no, it's not weird at all! You're such a great guy. I'm sure someone amazing is out there waiting for you."
He gave a half-hearted nod and quickly excused himself, trying to mask the disappointment as he made his way out of the building. Outside, he sank onto a bench, staring blankly ahead as the reality settled in. This was just another failed attempt, one more strike on a long list of rejections that seemed to haunt him at every turn.
"Is it me?" he muttered aloud, rubbing his forehead. "Am I just cursed?"
The sky darkened, and a strange warmth began to fill the air. Haruta's head jerked up as he noticed a faint, pinkish glow around him, as though someone had lit a series of lanterns in the fading light. His surroundings blurred, and just as he was about to question his own sanity, he heard the soft, unmistakable sound of someone giggling.
"Wow. For someone so good-looking, you're pretty hopeless, aren't you?"
Haruta looked around wildly, but he saw no one. Then, out of thin air, a girl his age appeared, perched on the back of the bench, swinging her legs and looking at him with a glint of amusement. She had vibrant pink hair, an outfit that sparkled like the night sky, and wings that shimmered in hues of rose and gold.
"Wha—who are you?" he blurted, scrambling back in surprise.
The girl raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Relax. I'm not here to kidnap you or anything. I'm Livia. And I'm a cupid." She gave him a little wave, as though appearing out of nowhere was the most normal thing in the world.
"A cupid?" Haruta repeated, still trying to make sense of the situation. "Like… *the* Cupid?"
Livia rolled her eyes as if she'd been through this introduction a thousand times before. "Cupid is actually a department, and I'm one of its many employees. But right now, I'm the one assigned to you." She leaned forward, inspecting him with interest. "Haruta Hanami. For someone so popular, your love life is a complete mess."
Haruta's cheeks reddened. "That's… harsh."
"Honest," she corrected, snapping her fingers. A small, heart-shaped tablet appeared in her hands, glowing softly as she swiped through a list of entries. "Look at this. Not just five or ten attempts—over a *hundred* confessions. Every time, you put yourself out there, no matter how much it hurts. And here you are, fresh from rejection number 101." She gave him a look that was part sympathy, part admiration. "I mean, that's kind of impressive if you think about it."
Haruta looked away, embarrassed. "Yeah, well… I keep hoping that one of these times, it'll actually work out."
"That's exactly why I'm here." Livia put the tablet away and looked at him, her tone shifting from teasing to serious. "We need people like you, Haruta. People who understand how difficult love can be and how much courage it takes. You're persistent, which makes you perfect for this job."
"What job?" he asked, still unsure whether he was dreaming or not.
Livia's face softened. "The job of a cupid's apprentice. Love's taken a pretty big hit lately—divine wars and all that. Our numbers are dwindling, and we can't keep up with the needs of the world. People are becoming more isolated and more guarded. And if love disappears… well, so does humanity's last real hope."
Haruta blinked, the weight of her words sinking in. "Wait… are you saying that if I become your apprentice, I could help people find love?"
"Exactly. And in exchange," she added with a smirk, "we'll give you a chance to find your own love story, too. Think of it as on-the-job experience."
Haruta's gaze dropped as he considered her offer. It sounded ridiculous, impossible even. But he couldn't deny the pull of it, the thrill at the idea of making a difference, of being someone who could help people feel the warmth he'd been searching for.
"I don't know," he murmured, still uncertain. "What if I'm not cut out for this?"
Livia leaned in, meeting his gaze directly. "You wouldn't be the first reluctant cupid. But you've got something a lot of us don't—heart. And as messy as your record is, you've never given up. That's rare, Haruta."
Her words struck something deep within him. He'd spent so long feeling like he was cursed in love like he was somehow flawed. But here was this strange girl with her sparkly wings, telling him he had a purpose, a chance to make a real difference.
"So… what do I have to do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She smiled, reaching out her hand. "Just take my hand, and you'll be officially enrolled in C.U.P.I.D."
After a moment's hesitation, Haruta took her hand. A rush of warmth flooded through him, and for a brief second, he felt as if he were floating. When he opened his eyes, Livia was watching him with a smile that was both mischievous and sincere.
"Welcome to C.U.P.I.D rookie," she said, giving his hand a firm shake. "Tomorrow's your first day of training. Rest up—you'll need it."