The sunlight spilled lazily across the café counter, warm and soft, but it didn't touch the tight coil in Xiao Yu's chest. He wiped down a table for the fifth time, his fingers lingering on the smooth wood, trying to convince himself he was awake, alive, and safe.
Mei called from the other side of the café, bright as ever. "Yuyu, table four wants their refill."
"On it," Xiao Yu said, forcing a smile. His voice sounded too loud to his own ears. He grabbed the coffee pot, but his hands trembled just enough to make a few drops spill onto the counter. He cursed under his breath, grabbed a rag, and muttered to himself, "Not again. Get it together, Yuyu."
The other customers moved through the café, chatting quietly, sipping drinks, and tapping on laptops. Everything was normal, but Xiao Yu couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. Ordinary was feeling strange, fragile.
He pressed a hand to his chest and tried to focus on the rhythm of the café. The clink of cups. The soft hiss of the espresso machine. The chatter of people around him. You are awake. You are safe. This is your world.
The door chimed, and a customer walked in, breaking his spiral of thought. Xiao Yu plastered on his usual cheerful smile. "Hi, welcome! Can I get you started with our specials today?"
The customer smiled politely. "Just a latte and a cinnamon roll, please."
"Excellent choice!" Xiao Yu chirped, moving with precision. Milk steamed, cinnamon sprinkled, and the latte was perfect. Almost too perfect. His fingers lingered on the cup a second longer than necessary, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a tiny shadow move at the corner of his vision, a small chibi-like silhouette perched on the edge of the counter.
He blinked and the shadow vanished. He laughed nervously. "Okay… just my imagination. Just reflection."
The customer looked at him curiously. "Are you okay?"
"Absolutely!" Xiao Yu forced a grin. "Best day ever!"
After the customer left, Xiao Yu leaned back against the counter, taking a deep breath. He tried to remind himself that everything was normal, everything was safe, everything was real.
But ordinary felt fragile.
He wiped down the tables again, slower this time, almost meditatively, counting each stroke: one, two, three. He hummed softly to himself, trying to anchor his mind to something familiar, a melody his grandmother used to hum when he was little. The sound steadied him, though only a little.
By the time the café closed, Xiao Yu's feet ached and his shoulders were sore from hours of running between tables and steaming milk. Mei waved goodbye, cheerfully closing the register. "See you tomorrow, Yuyu! Don't forget your umbrella, it looks like rain."
"Thanks, Mei!" Xiao Yu replied, forcing a grin, though the tightness in his chest hadn't left.
Outside, the evening air was cooler, the streets lined with faint amber lights. He carried his bag heavier than usual, as if the day's tension had accumulated in its seams. The wind tugged at his hair, carrying the faint smell of wet asphalt and bakery bread. He drew a deep breath. Safe. You're fine. Everything is fine.
The apartment building was quiet as he fumbled with his keys. He heard a soft shuffle behind him and froze.
"Hey, Yuyu," Zhao Chen's voice came from the stairwell, calm as ever.
Xiao Yu's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Chenchen! Didn't expect to see you here."
Zhao Chen leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets. "I live here too. You forgot?"
"Right… of course." Xiao Yu laughed nervously and slid the key into the door.
Once inside, Xiao Yu dropped his bag with a soft thud and kicked off his shoes. "Long day," he muttered.
Zhao Chen sat on the edge of the couch, watching him carefully. "You okay? You look… tense."
Xiao Yu shrugged, plopping down on the armchair with his bunny plush in his lap. "I'm fine. Just tired, I guess. Long day at the café."
Chenchen tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, but said nothing. Silence stretched comfortably between them for a moment.
Xiao Yu stood, stretching his arms above his head. "You know… sometimes I think I get too wrapped up in work. I mean, people come in, they smile, they drink coffee, they leave, and it's all normal—but my brain…" He shook his head, hair falling in his eyes. "It doesn't feel normal."
Zhao Chen leaned back, expression unreadable but calm. "You've been through a lot lately. It's okay for things to feel… off for a while."
Finally, Xiao Yu laughed and nudged Chenchen lightly. "Remember that dream I had? The crazy school thing with everyone turning against me?"
Zhao Chen smirked faintly. "You're still thinking about that?"
"I… well, maybe a little." Xiao Yu fiddled with the bunny's ear. "It felt so real. But now… now everything is fine. I'm fine. You're here. The apartment is normal. Life is normal."
Chenchen leaned back and studied him for a second. "Normal is good. Don't overthink it."
Xiao Yu smiled softly, feeling some of the tension ease. "Yeah. You're right. Normal is… actually pretty great."
He wandered to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. The sound of liquid filling the cup echoed oddly in the quiet apartment. He leaned against the counter, letting his head tilt back. "Even the simple things… a glass of water, a warm bed, my bunny… they feel like luxuries sometimes."
Chenchen chuckled softly from the couch. "You make it sound dramatic, Yuyu."
Xiao Yu laughed, then caught himself and shook his head. "Maybe I am. But… maybe that's not such a bad thing. Helps me appreciate it more."
There was a pause, and then Chenchen spoke again, quieter. "If anything ever happens… you know I've got your back."
Xiao Yu's chest warmed unexpectedly. He hugged the bunny closer. "Thanks, Chenchen. I… really appreciate that."
They shared a quiet moment, ordinary and calm, the kind of peace that had been missing for so long. Xiao Yu felt the tension ebbing slightly, replaced by the small comfort of presence.
He went to his desk to check his phone one last time before bed. The screen flickered briefly—static rippled for just a moment. He blinked, half-expecting the world to warp again. Instead, it was normal.
Yet even in the safety of his apartment, Xiao Yu's eyes flicked toward the corner where his desk lamp cast shadows. He thought he saw, just for a blink, the tiny chibi-like silhouette of Shiroi perched atop the bookshelf, watching silently before vanishing into the shadows.
He shook his head. It's just imagination.
For now.
Xiao Yu climbed into bed, curling beneath the blankets with his bunny plush and his phone dimmed beside him. The room was quiet, the faint city hum outside a soft lullaby. He closed his eyes, trying to anchor himself in the safety of his ordinary life—but the thought of that fleeting silhouette lingered, a small, unexplainable ripple against the calm.
He hugged the bunny tighter. Just sleep. Everything is fine. Everything is normal.
But as his breathing slowed and the room fell into deeper shadow, Xiao Yu's mind kept replaying fragments: the café, the shadow, the calm presence of Zhao Chen.
Ordinary. Safe. Real.
He hoped it would be enough.