Three days blurred by, each a cycle of clinking cups at the cat café, bustling tables, soft mewls of content cats, and the ever-growing familiarity of laughter with Ken and the others. But each evening brought a different kind of battle.
Luna, breathless and drenched in sweat, dropped to a knee on the padded floor of the underground training room. Her chest rose and fell like waves crashing against a worn shore. Across from her, Cherry—unbothered, not a single hair of her crimson bob out of place—lowered her stance with a sigh.
"You managed five exchanges this time," Cherry said flatly, then added with a smirk, "and I only thought of you as a semi-cooperative training dummy for three of them."
Luna snorted and coughed. "Progress?"
"A millimeter's worth," Cherry said, grabbing her towel and turning away. "Don't get smug. Complacency is a rust you don't see until your blade snaps."
Still gasping, Luna raised a shaky fist and gave a mock salute. "Yes, boss."
Cherry tossed a bottle of water over her shoulder without looking. Luna caught it, barely.
Then Cherry left as she always did—quick, clean, not even a sound of her steps echoing back. Luna stayed behind for a moment longer, letting her sweat cool as the silence of the training room settled around her.
The familiar warmth of roasted meat and fragrant rice met Luna like a comforting embrace as she entered the dining hall. Emmerich was already seated, sipping tea while reviewing something on a sleek tablet. He looked up, eyes immediately flicking to the forming bruise on her wrist.
"Glad you're finally here," he said lightly, then added, "How's training?"
Luna nodded as she took her seat. "Five full exchanges."
His brow rose. "Impressive."
"She still called me a glorified sandbag," Luna added dryly.
Emmerich chuckled and pushed a small plate of dumplings toward her. "That's practically praise, coming from Cherry."
Between bites, Luna spoke. "I'm going to visit Kana and Mary tomorrow. It's been a while, and Mary... she's getting weaker. We're thinking of doing another one of our mini-getaways soon."
Emmerich's face softened, the edges of concern shadowing his otherwise composed expression. "That's good. Just let me know when you're planning to do the outing."
"Okay, and I'll text you when I get there," Luna promised.
"Text when you leave, too. And when you're on the way back," he added, sipping from his tea. "If you need anything, call me."
Luna smiled over her cup. "Thanks, Dad."
Steam clung to the mirrors from her long soak. Luna dried her hair with one hand while the other flipped open her journal. She jotted everything down—five exchanges, Cherry's sharp words, how her calves almost gave up on the fourth spin, and the bruising truth of steady improvement.
The ink trailed into thoughts of Mary, of Kana's quiet worry, and the promise she made to be there, to bring laughter and comfort, not just presence.
By the time she capped her pen, her limbs felt heavier than the blankets waiting for her.
She stood, stretching toward the comfort of sleep, when her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Edward:Sweet dreams, Luna.
She blinked. Her heart skipped. Then skipped again.
Milo meowed from the bed, pawing at her pillow impatiently.
"I'm going, I'm going," Luna muttered, picking up her phone. Her thumbs hovered. She typed.
You too—
Deleted.
Good night! Hope you dream of cats.
Deleted.
Took you long enough to say it.
Deleted.
Finally, she typed what felt right, what was real.
Luna:Sweet dreams too.
Send.
Face pink, smile wide, she clicked her phone off and climbed into bed beside Milo, who claimed most of the space like a prince.
"Night, your highness," she whispered, flicking off the lamp.
Sleep came easier than expected.
The scent of grilled meats, caramelized onions, and seasoned potatoes wafted through the air, drawing people in like moths to a blazing, barbecue-flavored flame.
Luna, in comfy jeans and an oversized hoodie, arrived ahead of the midday rush with tactical precision and a mission: secure the best food before the lunch horde devoured it all.
Armed with a collapsible, wheeled cart—complete with two cupholders and a storage shelf—Luna approached the food truck like a seasoned general approaching the frontlines.
"Two brisket sandwich, three pulled pork, three loaded potatoes, three turkey legs, three pickled sandwiches, and—oh, one lemonade and one ginger beer, hmm and…" she rattled off, pointing at each item on the chalkboard menu like she was checking off targets.
The vendor, eyes wide but impressed, just chuckled. "Feeding an army?"
"Something like that," Luna replied with a grin.
As the food began to pile up on the tray counter, someone behind her cleared their throat.
She turned to see Josh, a familiar face from her past, now half-grinning at the mountain of food in her cart.
"Well, well," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Bribing your way into someone's good graces or starting a black market in loaded carbs?"
Luna smirked. "I'm the only one free today to grab these. I take my missions seriously."
Josh eyed the cart. "You sure do. That brisket looks criminally good. Any chance you'd share with an old friend?"
Luna tilted her head, playfully squinting at him. "Hmm. Only if you finally confess something."
Josh blinked. "What?"
"Your feelings for Kana."
Josh opened his mouth, clearly caught off guard, then recovered smoothly and clutched his chest with mock seriousness. "Fine. I confess—"
Luna raised her brow, grinning.
"—that I like Kana… as an older sister," he finished, drawing a gasp-laugh from Luna.
"Oh wow, you really went for the cop-out," she said, handing him a brisket and pickled sandwich and a turkey leg anyway.
"I'll take what I can get," Josh said, taking the food reverently. "For the record, Kana would destroy me if I said anything else."
"Smart man," Luna chuckled, popping a lid on her lemonade. "See you around, maybe?"
"Maybe," Josh said, giving her a two-fingered salute. "Say hi to Kana and Mary for me."
The car glided smoothly along the suburban roads, sunlight glinting off the windows. In the back seat, Luna sat with her cart tucked safely beside her, steam escaping from the vented lids of warm food containers.
She looked out the window, watching the city slip past in golden rays and soft breezes. The driver—a trusted staff member from the estate—kept quiet but alert, a necessary precaution after the recent tailing incident.
Luna's phone buzzed. A message from Kana:
Kana:We're excited! Mary's even trying to stay up for it!
Luna smiled, typing back:
Luna:Got enough food to feed a battalion. Tell Mary she better be hungry. See you soon!
The car rolled on. The food was warm, the sky was clear, and the people she loved were waiting for her.
It was going to be a good day.
The door swung open before Luna even had the chance to knock twice. Kana, in cozy loungewear and socks that didn't match, beamed with a warmth that made Luna's shoulders drop in relief.
"There you are!" Kana ushered her in with a wide smile. "Get in, get in! The smell is already making me drool, you better not have forgotten the ginger beer, or I'm sending you back out."
Luna laughed, hauling in the cart with practiced ease. "I got it, but going back might be a good idea, so don't tempt me. I almost bought out the whole truck."
As she stepped inside, her eyes immediately found Mary on the couch, bundled in a light blanket, thinner than the last time Luna saw her. The vibrant glow in Mary's cheeks had dimmed, but the moment she saw Luna, her face lit up.
"Ooh, that smell…" Mary said, her voice soft but playful. "Greasy, sinful, glorious. I think my stomach just grumbled in Morse code."
Luna chuckled and wheeled the cart over to the dining table while Kana dove straight into the bags like a pirate uncovering gold.
"Dibs on the loaded potatoes and two turkey legs!" Kana announced proudly.
"Wow, you didn't even pretend to be polite," Luna said, laughing as she pulled the foil-wrapped brisket sandwiches out and lined them up.
"Politeness goes out the window when food like this is involved," Kana replied smugly.
"You're such a glutton," Luna teased.
"Says the girl who brought a portable food cart," Kana shot back.
Mary giggled, the sound faint but full of affection. "You two… don't argue. Just enjoy the food. For my sake, too, okay? Since I can only manage a bite or two of each."
Luna's heart tugged. Her smile stayed, but her eyes betrayed the sadness under the surface. She walked over and gave Mary's shoulder a light squeeze.
"Of course," Luna said softly. "Everything here's for you, too."
"Not the turkey legs," Kana interjected with a wink.
Luna snorted. "Fine, you can die with the turkey legs. I'll take the brisket."
"And I'll take a bite of whatever survives you two," Mary murmured with amusement.
Kana, sensing the moment needed more lightness, clapped her hands together. "Okay, I'm calling in our fourth eater to balance out the madness. Auren's on call, but he owes me a favor."
Before Luna could ask, Kana already had her phone out and typed fast.
Kana:You better show up in 30 mins or I'm feeding Mary all the greasy goodness and blaming you.
Auren:Be there. Bribe accepted. Don't eat the good stuff.
Thirty minutes later, Dr. Auren, tall, lean, and perpetually in hoodie and scrubs, let himself in with a single knock and a dramatic sniff.
"Is that pulled pork? Brisket? Loaded carbs?" he asked, eyes widening as he approached the table. "Mary, you weren't kidding when you said you were being spoiled. You're living the dream."
Mary rolled her eyes but smiled, cheeks pink. "Stop exaggerating. Eat, or Luna will eat your share."
"I might," Luna said with mock seriousness, already picking at a sandwich.
As everyone sat down, the room filled with laughter, low chatter, and the warmth of food and friendship. Auren told stories about his hospital rounds, Kana bantered non-stop, and Luna kept piling bites of this and that onto Mary's plate so she could at least try everything.
Even though Mary ate only a little, she looked genuinely touched. Her tired eyes sparkled every time someone made her laugh. And for a while, it didn't feel like she was sick. It felt like four friends sharing food on a lazy afternoon.
The sunlight through the window was golden, soft.
Luna glanced over and memorized the image—Kana laughing with food in her mouth, Auren trying to steal a bite from her plate, Mary with a blanket over her lap and a smile on her lips.
And just for a moment, Luna forgot the ache of what was to come.
After another bout of soft laughter and stories exchanged across the low table, Mary gently placed her teacup down with the delicate grace of someone who'd learned to hide her limits well.
"I'm going to lie down for a bit," she said, her smile serene. "Don't stop chatting on my account. It's nice hearing your voices."
Kana was already half-rising, but Auren gestured for her to stay seated. "I'll check on her. You two keep being loud and ridiculous. It's good for her."
"I'm not loud," Luna muttered, chewing on a pickle.
"Mm-hm," Auren replied with a smirk as he followed Mary with quiet footsteps, leaving the two women alone in the cozy living room.
A beat passed.
Then Kana, still with a slight smile on her lips, poked at the foil of a half-eaten sandwich, her expression starting to falter. Her jaw trembled—so subtly—but Luna noticed it instantly.
Luna shifted, gently reached out, and pulled Kana close, wrapping an arm around her and letting Kana's head rest on her shoulder. She didn't say anything at first. She didn't need to.
Kana let out a quiet, shaking breath, tears silently slipping down her cheeks and onto Luna's sleeve.
"She… joked again this morning," Kana whispered, her voice hoarse. "Said she wanted lilies, jazz music, and for us to wear something stupidly colorful at her funeral. Like it was some party she was planning."
Luna held her a little tighter.
"I thought I could handle this," Kana continued, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "But watching her fade like this, hearing her make peace with it—it hurts so much more than I expected. And yet… I'm still so grateful. I get to be with her. I get to help her. Even if it's just sitting here."
"You're doing more than just sitting," Luna said softly. "You're giving her warmth and laughter, something real to hold onto. And I know it's hard, Kana. I know. But you're not alone in this."
Kana nodded against Luna's shoulder, her hands curling into her lap. "Thank you… for coming. For staying. For still being here."
"Always," Luna whispered, brushing a hand through Kana's hair. "For both of you."
The two sat in silence for a while—no words, just the comfort of shared sorrow and quiet strength. Outside, the sun began to dip, casting golden light through the curtains.
In the hallway, unseen by them, Auren closed Mary's bedroom door gently and paused, listening to the stillness of the home. Then, with a small smile touched with melancholy, he walked back to rejoin the two friends on the kitchen—carrying with him both a medical report and the silent acknowledgment that every moment mattered.
The glow from the setting sun bathed the room in warm orange light. The remnants of their feast still littered the low table—empty boxes, a forgotten pickle, the crumpled wrapper of a mochi ice cream. Kana hadn't moved from Luna's shoulder, and Luna hadn't shifted an inch, cradling her like a quiet anchor.
Auren returned, walking in with the kind of measured pace he used when the news wasn't easy. He settled into the chair across from them, folding his hands together on his knee.
"She might need a wheelchair sooner than expected," Auren said gently. "Maybe in a few weeks. Her legs are starting to lose strength. There's more fatigue than she's letting on."
Kana's breath caught, just a hitch, but it was enough. Her hand tightened around Luna's. She'd known it. She'd felt it coming. But hearing it aloud still scraped raw against her heart.
Luna squeezed her hand in return, silent, steady, still letting Kana rest on her.
Auren's expression softened. "Even with all that, you know what she said to me when I helped her lie down?"
They both looked up.
"She said, 'Tell those two not to cry. This pain's not winning unless I say so.'" Auren chuckled, shaking his head. "Honestly, it's kind of incredible. With everything her body is doing to her, she still laughs like she's untouchable."
Kana sniffled and gave a wet laugh. "That's her, alright. Always dramatic, always stubborn."
Auren leaned back and offered her a warm smile. "She's got good reason to be strong. She's got the both of you."
Kana looked at him, her voice wavering as she said, "Thank you, Auren. You deserve that seat at today's feast."
Auren grinned, hands over his heart. "Finally. My efforts have been recognized by the inner court."
Luna let out a quiet snort. "Careful, say that too loudly and we'll make you organize the next royal banquet. You know, out in the wilderness."
His eyes lit up. "A VIP cabin getaway, perhaps? With full catering again? I mean—purely for the patient's mental health, of course."
Luna smiled, her voice dry but fond. "That might be arranged. No promises though."
"Don't tease me like that," Auren mock-warned. "If you say that kind of thing, I'll be counting the days until I get the call."
Kana smiled through the shimmer of tears. "Fine. If you're that excited, maybe we'll invite you again just to see you trip over firewood like last time."
Auren gasped. "That was sabotage! I maintain my innocence!"
The laughter—soft and real—filled the room. A balm. A tether. A reminder.
Even when the world felt heavy, moments like these stitched a kind of quiet hope into the seams of sorrow.