KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess
Chapter 111: [111] Different Bodies, Same Secrets

Chapter 111: [111] Different Bodies, Same Secrets

Xavier turned to find Naomi already on the bed, propped up on one elbow. She’d shed her robe completely, leaving only the thin nightgown. The candlelight played across her face, casting half of it in shadow while illuminating the curve of her cheek, the hollow of her throat, the outline of her body beneath the fabric.

"It’s freezing in here," Xavier said, unbuttoning his shirt.

"I noticed," Naomi replied, her eyes tracking his fingers as they worked down his chest. "Nessa doesn’t seem to own many blankets, but the bed’s warm enough once you’re in it."

Xavier pulled his shirt off, the cold air immediately raising goosebumps across his skin. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the temperature. The body he inhabited was different from his own—leaner, though still well-muscled. He wondered what the original owner had done for a living.

"See something you like?" he asked, catching Naomi’s stare.

She ran her tongue across her lower lip. "Just comparing notes. This body’s different from the one you had back home."

"Better or worse?"

"Different," she repeated, then patted the space beside her. "Are you going to stand there freezing all night, or are you joining me?"

Xavier sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. His headache had dulled to a distant throb the moment he’d entered Naomi’s home, and now it receded further. The constant pull toward Calypso remained, but it no longer felt like needles behind his eyes.

"Your headache’s better," Naomi observed.

Xavier glanced over his shoulder. "How’d you know?"

"The lines around your eyes are gone." She reached out to touch the space between his brows. "You’ve been squinting since I saw you at the Fox."

Her fingers were warm against his skin. He caught her hand and turned it palm-up, examining it in the dim light.

"These aren’t your hands," he said.

"No. Hers are softer. Mine had calluses from climbing practice."

"You climbed?"

"Rock walls, mostly. Started when I was twelve." She shrugged. "Money in competitions."

Xavier nodded, running his thumb across her palm. "Makes sense."

"What about you? What do you think the difference is?"

Xavier considered the question. "More toned. Broader shoulders." He released her hand and finished removing his boots. "Better hair."

That drew a laugh from her. "I like this hair too. Very mysterious dark stranger."

"Says the purple-haired tavern girl."

"Hostess," she corrected. "And it’s not like I chose it."

Xavier stood to remove his pants, leaving only his undergarments. Naomi watched without pretense. He slid under the furs beside her, the straw mattress crinkling beneath their weight.

"So," he said, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling beams. "What’s the plan?"

Naomi shifted onto her side to face him. "Tomorrow we leave for Hearthome. We find Calypso, who’s apparently living as some noble’s niece. Then what?"

"Then we find the others. Alexander, Ashley, Nolan, Margaret."

"And then?"

Xavier turned his head to look at her. "We figure out how to close the gate and get home."

Naomi’s eyes—gray in this body instead of her usual dark brown—studied his face. "What if we can’t go home?"

"Not an option."

"But what if—"

"Then we survive," Xavier cut her off.

The candlelight flickered as a draft snuck through the shutters. Naomi pulled the furs higher around them both.

"I had money back home," she said softly. "Stocks, investments, plans. Now I’m pouring ale for men who think grabbing my ass is a fair tip."

Xavier’s jaw tightened. "Did anyone at the Fox—"

"Nothing I couldn’t handle," she said quickly. "But I hated every second of it."

"You won’t go back there."

"No, I won’t." She inched closer to him, her body radiating warmth under the furs. "Xavier, why do you think we’re in this specific world?"

He considered the question. "The fortune teller I met tonight—"

"You met a fortune teller?"

"Long story. Whatever this place is—real or constructed—we’re part of some larger narrative. The question is whether we have to play our parts or if we can write our own ending."

Naomi’s hand found his beneath the furs. "I’ve never been good at following scripts."

"Me neither."

Her fingers intertwined with his. "Xavier... back at school, I saw how you looked at Calypso."

"What about it?"

"I’m not blind. There’s something between you two. Something more than the cousin story you told everyone."

Xavier remained silent, wondering how much to reveal. The divine entanglement was too complicated to explain, especially since he wasn’t sure how much of it still applied in this world.

"You don’t have to tell me," Naomi continued. "But I need to know if whatever this is—" she squeezed his hand, "—is just you being nice to the only familiar face you’ve found, or if there’s something more to it."

Xavier turned onto his side to face her fully. Their faces were inches apart now, breath mingling in the cold air between them.

Might as well test this out with her.

"Back home, I had an ability that grew stronger through connections with others," he said. "The stronger the connection, the more power I could access."

Naomi’s eyes narrowed. "So this is about power?"

"No," Xavier said firmly. "The bonds had to be genuine. Real emotions, real connection. You can’t fake it."

"And you think we could form one of these bonds?"

"We already have one. It started back at school."

Her eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"I could feel it, even then," Xavier said. "My power works like a well that deepens with each genuine connection. Back at school, the bond between us had already started to form. It was shallow, but it was there."

She was quiet for a moment, processing this. "So if we... got closer... this well would get deeper?"

"Probably. But that’s not why I’m here."

"Then why are you?"

Xavier reached up to brush a strand of purple hair from her face. "Because when I saw you at the Fox, it was the first time since coming here that I felt like I wasn’t completely lost."

Naomi’s expression softened. Her hand moved to his chest, fingers splaying across his skin. "Same here."

Xavier felt the warmth of her palm against his heart, the subtle shift of her body closer to his. His headache had faded to almost nothing, replaced by a different kind of tension.

"Xavier," Naomi whispered, "I don’t want to be alone tonight."

He looked into her eyes, searching for the calculation he’d always seen there before. The constant assessment of value, of cost versus benefit. Instead, he found only vulnerability and desire.

"You’re not alone," he said.

Naomi closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his. The kiss was tentative at first, a question rather than a demand. Xavier answered by pulling her closer, one hand sliding to the small of her back.

She made a small sound in the back of her throat as the kiss deepened. Her nightgown had ridden up, and he felt the smoothness of her thigh against his leg. Her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as if afraid he might pull away.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Naomi looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction.

"Different body," she murmured, "same skill set."

Xavier smiled. "Some things you don’t forget."

She shifted, moving to straddle him. The thin fabric of her nightgown bunched around her hips as she settled her weight on him. The candlelight caught the outline of her body through the linen, turning it nearly transparent.

"I’ve been thinking about this since you beat up those assholes at the movies," she admitted, her hands flat against his chest.

"About sitting on top of me?"

She smacked his chest lightly. "No, idiot. About being with someone who knows the real me."

Xavier ran his hands up her thighs to her waist, his thumbs tracing the seam of the thin nightgown. "And who is the real Naomi Phillips?"

She leaned down, her purple hair falling to frame his face. Her gaze was intense, all trace of her earlier humor gone. "She’s the woman who had calluses on her hands. The one who is done feeling helpless and alone." Her lips hovered just above his.

"And right now, she wants to feel something real."