“The guards won’t bother us. I asked them for some time alone. You can take yours off too.”
Aida hesitated but ultimately slipped her mask off and hooked it over her forearm. “So, you’ve come to check up on me?”
“Something like that.” He turned his gaze to the fresco, lingering on the details. “Though I’m not here to scold or interrogate you this time.”
“Oh?” She shifted her stance, surprised by his change in tone.
Mo gave a small nod. “I’m... trying something different.”
“Different?” She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “You?”
“Don’t act so surprised.” He sounded almost defensive but caught himself and continued more lightly. “We haven’t spoken in a while. I wanted to know how you’re doing.”
“How I’m doing?” Aida echoed, suspicious of this line of questioning.
He didn’t meet her gaze, instead watching the figures in the fresco, their eternal revelry. “I don’t have to be your enemy, you know.”
Aida studied him, feeling off-balance. “You’ve never exactly been my friend either.”
Mo shrugged, his casual demeanor slipping just slightly. “Maybe I could be.”
“I thought friendship wasn’t your strong suit.”
“It’s not,” he admitted, looking at her now with that same intensity she’d grown used to. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn.”
Aida shifted, uncertain of how to respond. “Why would you want to?”
Mo let out a small breath, his lips twisting into a humorless smile. “Because I’m bored, and you’re... different. You’re not predictable.”
“Well, thanks, I think,” she said.
Mo leaned against the wall—a move that would have the guards yelling at him if he was seen. “You’re not like the others I deal with. You don’t try to manipulate, and you don’t play games. You just... do your job. It’s refreshing.”
She was relieved that he seemingly had no idea about her scheming to stop the games he and his siblings were playing. “And you find that interesting?”
“I find that... worth investing time in.” He said it so simply, as though it weren’t strange to say.
Aida frowned, trying to piece together his motives. “So, you’re trying out this whole friendship thing with me?”
He smirked, but there was less bite to it than usual. “Something like that.”
For a moment, the only sound between them was the faint hum of the wind from outside. Aida wasn’t sure whether to laugh or keep her guard up. Mo, the god of sarcasm and guile, genuinely trying to make a connection with her—it didn’t quite seem real. Yet, here he was, talking like this was just a normal interaction.
“You know friendship requires a bit more than just showing up unannounced,” she finally said, turning back toward her work. “It’s not transactional.”
Mo pursed his lips, considering her words. “I know that. Doesn’t mean I can’t offer something in return.”
“Like what?” She glanced at him, half expecting him to revert to his usual cryptic self.
But instead, he seemed thoughtful, almost serious. “I could help you. Maybe not with your research—” he gestured vaguelyto the notebook and equipment around her “—but with something else. If you ever need it.”
She decided to test him. “I wish you could end this pandemic.”
“It’s eased up quite a bit, hasn’t it?” he said. “Maybe I had a hand in that.”
Aida gave a nervous laugh. She had been right. He had done something to change it.
“Well then, thank you very much.” She said it in a jokey voice because, of course, she wasn’t supposed to know he could actually have such an effect on things. “But it’s not gone entirely.” She nodded toward the mask on her arm. “Maybe you could keep working on that.”
