Memory Manipulation & Flight, Part 1

The next morning, the instant I opened my eyes, a purple notification window flooded my smartphone screen, announcing the new divine powers I'd been given.

"Memory... manipulation... and the other one... flight?"

This time both of yesterday's gifts had been swapped out entirely, replaced by a pair of brand-new powers.

Memory Manipulation was exactly what it sounded like: the ability to erase, rewrite, and overwrite whatever originally lived inside another person's head, exactly as I pleased. If yesterday's Compelled Speech had ruled a woman's lips at will, this was a strict upgrade — the power to reconstruct thought itself. The soul.

And then there was Flight.

I opened the window and let my body lift, just a little. Gravity seemed to simply let go; I rose as lightly as a balloon. The moment I drifted out past the balcony, cool morning air wrapped around me from head to toe. I shot upward in a single burst, dozens of meters into the sky.

"Holy shit... this is insane."

Cars and buildings shrank to ants beneath my feet. Strangely, none of the usual problems of gravity applied — my body was light as a feather. I no longer needed to wander the streets hunting for prey. From a sky that no earthly law or boundary could touch, I had become a predator who could look down into the city's most private corners, completely undisturbed.

I glided at my leisure beneath the clouds, scanning for a target. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That was when she entered my field of view: a woman practicing yoga alone in the rooftop garden of a luxury apartment complex. A taut, sculpted figure showed through tight leggings; every line of her was elegant. She'd climbed to the highest point she could find to steal a little freedom from other people's eyes — but to me, looking down from the sky, she was nothing but perfect prey.

"Alright. She's first today."

I cut through the air without a sound and began to descend above her head. She still had her eyes closed, focused on her breathing. I landed lightly behind her and murmured, low.

"Hey. Have you been waiting for me?"

The woman startled so hard she screamed. At the sudden intrusion of a man, she curled in on herself on the yoga mat and stared at me with wary, frightened eyes.

"Wh-who are you? Do you have any idea where this is?!"

Instead of answering, I looked straight into her eyes. Beyond those pupils trembling with terror, my power rolled in like a tide.

In the space of a heartbeat, the terror of an intruder that had filled her mind was washed away as if it had never existed. What took its place was the pure-hearted crush of a little girl who'd once watched the older boy from her neighborhood with a fluttering chest, more than a decade ago — and the vicious, one-sided love that had followed her stubbornly all the way into adulthood.

The wariness drained from her eyes, and in its place a aching fondness and a joy too big for words slowly rose to fill them.

"...Oppa? Is it really you?"

Her voice trembled, thin as a thread. In the memories I had written, I was the one person she had spent her whole life loving. A peaceful morning of yoga had, in an instant, become the moment a life's dream came true.

"Yeah. It's been a while, hasn't it? Still working out hard, I see."

At the sound of my gentle voice she burst into the tears she'd been holding back and threw herself into my arms. That taut, trained body pressed against me through the leggings.

"Oh my god... I'm not dreaming, right? How are you even here...? I really — seeing you just one more time was my only wish..."

She buried her face in my chest and sobbed. The feelings were a fiction Memory Manipulation had built from nothing, but the happiness she was drowning in was as real as anything in the world. I stroked her hair softly and whispered against her ear.

"You said your dream was to be held by me just once, didn't you? Today I'll make every bit of that dream come true."

She jerked her head up and looked at me. Shyness and hunger mixed in her eyes, and they trembled.

"Really? I... I missed you so much I spent every night alone... ah, no. I'm just so happy..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. She just wrapped her arms around my neck. The relief of finally reaching the person she'd loved from afar, and the desire she'd spent years crushing down, were heating ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her body from the inside out. I slid an arm around her waist and led her, carefully, toward the first time she had wanted for so long.

Up here in the rooftop garden, this place was no longer somewhere to be afraid of. For her, it had become the most romantic bedroom in the world — the place where a lifelong unrequited love would finally bear fruit.

I guided her gently toward a corner of the garden, a sheltered patch of shade draped in flowers in full, lavish bloom. She followed with both hands locked around my arm, clinging as if I were a mirage that would vanish the moment she let go of my sleeve.

"So. You missed me that much? I'm almost surprised, seeing you this happy to see me."

At the question she welled up all over again, buried her face in my chest, and broke into tears.

"You don't know... From the day I first saw you in middle school, there hasn't been a single day I didn't think about you. Do you know how hard I cried when I heard you'd gone abroad to study? I thought I'd never see you again... but now you're right here in front of me."

Her trembling hands moved over my chest, my shoulders, the muscle of my arms, checking each one as if to make sure. The fact that the warmth under her fingertips was real sent a shudder through her, and an happiness too large for language rose across her face. Then, as if she'd made up her mind, she wiped her tears and slowly stood.

"I... I worked out every night imagining I'd meet you. So that if I ever saw you again, I could show you the most beautiful version of myself..."

She stared at me without blinking and took hold of the hem of her yoga top. Then, without a second's hesitation, she pulled it up and off. The fabric whispered away, and the nude body she had spent years perfecting was laid bare, proof of every hour of work.

Morning sun poured over the rooftop and shattered across her white skin. The line of her collarbones rose smooth and clean above a tight sports bra, and the deep valley of her cleavage swayed dizzyingly every time she drew a ragged breath. The real masterpiece, though, was her waist. Yoga had carved a sharp, distinct pair of lines into her taut abs, and the skin over her pubic bone, just visible above the leggings, was flawless — not a hint of excess anywhere.

When her trembling hands pushed the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠leggings down as well, her sensual curves unfurled in raw, unobstructed contrast against the green of the rooftop garden. Legs that stretched long as a model's. An ass lifted and made taut by years of training. Shy as she looked, she displayed that perfect body before me as if she wanted ten years of longing paid back in full. The vicious unrequited love I had driven into her memory had turned her into the boldest, most beautiful woman in the world.

"Oppa... I was going crazy wanting to be in your arms. Today, do whatever you want with me. I really want to be yours."

Without a scrap of clothing left on her, she came toward me and sank to her knees. In the wet eyes looking up at me there was nothing but the hunger to be loved. Warm sunlight spilling through the green leaves of the rooftop garden lit her white, naked body until it seemed almost transparent. She drew closer, gazing at me with a trembling look, as if she were finally facing the lover she had never dared to touch even in her dreams.

"Oppa, I really... I can't believe this moment. All those years I spent imagining you alone, hurting alone... it all feels like it's being paid back."

Tenderness filled her eyes as she began, one by one, to undo the buttons of my shirt, her hands as careful as if she were handling a treasure. When the shirt fell to the floor and my chest was bare, she couldn't hold the feeling in. Her slender fingers traveled over my whole body. From the hard muscle of my chest to the ridges of my abs, it was as if a trail of burning affection remained everywhere she touched.

"Every night I fell asleep thinking your body would be this solid... but you're even more incredible than I imagined. Your smell, your warmth... it's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all real."

She bent her knees and settled before me as if in prayer. It was time to tear down the last wall she had waited ten years to cross. Her slender fingers caught the waistband of my underwear. She drew in a breath and slowly pulled it down.

At last my cock stood revealed in the sunlight, thick and hot, and a thin gasp slipped from her lips.

"Ah...!"

Dew-bright tears gathered in her wide eyes and then spilled, sliding down her cheek. It wasn't grief. It was the overwhelmed tears of someone who had finally found the missing piece of her heart.

"Oh my god... it's so beautiful, Oppa. After making me wait this long... it's really something."

She brought both trembling hands together and carefully wrapped them around my cock. The pulse and the heat that came through her palms made her shudder, her shoulders shivering. This was the most private part of the man she had pictured a thousand times, ten thousand times, inside her own head for ten years. Holding it, she couldn't stop the tears of wonder, like a priestess facing a sacred relic.

"Oppa, thank you. For appearing in front of me like this... and for choosing me. I really — whatever you give me today, I'll take it all with joy."

Cradling me as if I were something precious, she bowed her head and breathed a warm breath over me. In her wet eyes, a vicious affection meant only for me churned together with a pure, trembling anticipation of the first time that was about to begin.