Gaius glanced at Nexus, and then rapped its tiny head lightly. “I never thought that the word ‘love’ would be in your vocabulary. What made you come to this conclusion?”

“Anyone would come to this conclusion if they saw how Isabelle behaved when you were in a coma,” Nexus replied. “Don’t believe me? Ask Nakama or Xanadu. In fact, you should go find the Phantom Blade for advice. She was the one who consoled Isabelle the most in the past three years.”

For a moment, Gaius wanted to ask about Xanadu — Nakama had implied that she wasn’t in good health — but he decided to focus on Isabelle first. “Alright. Even if we assume that I should…be with her, is it even appropriate? If we added up my age in this life and that of the past, it’s around three to four times of hers. It’ll be unfair.”

“Lots of little things you’re assuming there, bub.” Nexus clambered over to a red cushion, and then laid down on it. “Although, I must say, your thoughts could be argued as ethical questions that are rarely asked about.”

Gaius glanced at the artificial intelligence, and decided to let it rattle on. Nexus, who was clearly expecting a snappy retort, glanced back at him, and then made a little smile with the robot-like features on its head. After making a mental note to ask about the reason behind its futuristic design, the boy gestured for Nexus to continue.

“Let’s talk about some things first. Your words imply that anyone who remembers their past life shouldn’t be entitled to fall in love with people their age,” said Nexus. “Is that fair?”

“Shouldn’t that be the case?” Gaius asked.

“Did they make their choice?” Nexus replied back. “No, they didn’t. On Earth, there was a concept called birth lottery. Should someone born into a family of status and background have no right to fall in love with someone with a lower background, or vice-versa?”

“No, but—”

Nexus smirked. “Go on. But what? You affirm the right to love for all, but when it comes to people who retain memories of their past life, you don’t. I cannot help but note that you happen to fall into this particular category.”

“Look, it’s just that I have qualms being with someone who is one-third my mental age,” Gaius replied. “It’s the same for Orb, right? No one’s going to look favourably on a marriage between a young lady and an old man.”

“Are you an old man, though?” Nexus asked.

“What do you mean? Of course I am,” Gaius replied.

“You don’t really look in a mirror, do you?” The little sculpture shook its legs. “To me, and presumably everyone else, you’re more of an extremely mature kid, and that’s all. Besides, I would classify you as someone who hit a snag in the reincarnation cycle, rather than an old man.”

“I wouldn’t classify myself as that, though. At this rate, however, we won’t be getting anywhere in this reincarnation ethics debate,” Gaius replied. “I propose we put this argument off for now.”

“By you command,” said Nexus. “The fact of the matter is, however, that Isabelle is devoted to you, even if we put her survivor’s guilt aside…and it’s not really survivor’s guilt, since you’re still alive.”

“What’s your point?”

“Do you not want to devote yourself to her too?” Nexus asked, and Gaius felt his heart skip a beat.

“You’re being very blunt,” Gaius forced out. “But if we go with your argument, I’m still very much a minor. I’m like sixteen this year. She’s like…twenty?”

“Nineteen’s probably closer, but let’s roll with twenty for the sake of argument. Between a normal sixteen-year-old and a twenty-year-old, I can see why one might be cautious, but you are anything but normal. Tell me. Do you have feelings for her?”

“Can we not touch on that portion? Besides, we share a master-subordinate relationship. Our current relationship and my status as the saviour of her family means that there’s probably an exploitative element to any romantic relationship we might get into.”

“Do you even see her as your subordinate anymore? Tch. You’re a hard person to reasonably debate with,” Nexus replied.

“Deal with it.”

The artificial intelligence thought for a few moments. “What exactly are you afraid of? The Gaius three years ago wasn’t this…I’d say wishy-washy.”

“Uh. Sensitive?” Gaius ventured.

“I guess that’s close enough.” Nexus sat up and stared at Gaius. “But I’m sure that you’re hiding something from us. Master Gaius. Am I allowed to make some guesses?”

“Guesses?” Gaius narrowed his eyes. “What will you do if I say no?”

“I’ll just make them in front of everyone else except for you,” Nexus replied.

“Son of a—”

“Language, Master Gaius.” Nexus tilted its head, and for a moment, Gaius could swear that he could see a roguish grin. “So, an educated guess. I have a hunch that you brought La-Ti back from this Cybral for Nakama’s sake — I mean, half of your actions are for your sister’s sake, so don’t look at me like that.”

Gaius turned his glare away from the annoying artificial intelligence.

“The way you refuse to entertain a relationship that will likely last a lifetime, combined with the above, makes me think that you are preparing everyone else for a future without you,” said Nexus. “Am I right?”

“There’s way too few clues for you to have surmised that,” Gaius replied. “How did you guess?”

“I am the Library of Ancients’ guardian. I have seen all kinds of dilemmas, all kinds of self-sacrificial actions that otherworlders are partial to, or have undertaken. You are not the first,” said Nexus. “And…if you’re making such preparations, you’re probably not going to be the last.”

Gaius covered his face with a cushion in response.

“Tell me,” said Nexus. “What’s going to happen?”

“Is Xanadu awake?” Gaius asked. His voice was muffled by the cushion, but he knew that Nexus wouldn’t be affected by it.

“It’s related to her, then. Yes, she is awake. And wondering where the others are. And why the house is so quiet.” Gaius could picture Nexus making a small smile with its helmet-like face as it said the last bit.

“Very well. Let’s go over to her room,” said Gaius. “It has everything to do with her, after all.”

Getting up slowly, the boy followed the artificial intelligence to Xanadu’s room.