The park was quiet, the soft rustle of leaves blending with the distant hum of the city. Alice sat beside Elara on the bench, the breakfast they had brought quietly between them. After a few moments of comfortable silence, elara finally say something
"Alice… please. Forget that night. Forget everything I told you—the truth, the pain… all of it."
Alice's gaze softened, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Elara… that night… it changed everything for me. But why would you want me to forget it?"
Elara swallowed hard, a tear threatening to fall.
"Because… I don't want you to see me like that. I don't want you to think of me as someone broken, or guilty… or as a burden. That night… it wasn't me I wanted you to know. It was just pain… just memories I wish I could erase."
Alice took a slow step closer, his voice gentle but firm.
"Elara… I already know the pain. I know the guilt. I know how much you blamed yourself for everything. But you don't have to carry it alone anymore. Not with me. I want to be here for you… through it all."
Her eyes glistened, searching his face for doubt—but she found none.
"You… really mean that? Even after hearing the worst of me? Even after all the mistakes I carried?"
Alice shook his head, his voice calm, steady, and full of care.
"Yes. I've seen your strength, Elara. I've seen the way you've survived, the way you've fought through everything. That night… it didn't make me think less of you. If anything, it made me realize how strong and brave you really are. I don't want you to hide from me. I don't want you to blame yourself."
Elara's shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of years slowly lifting.
"Then… I guess… we can just… be friends? Normal friends? Nothing complicated?"
Alice smiled softly, a warmth in his eyes that reached deep into her heart.
"Normal friends. That's enough. And if ever the past haunts you again… I'll be here. Always. You won't face it alone."
For the first time in years, Elara felt a small, fragile peace settle in her chest. The guilt that had shadowed her for so long seemed lighter, just enough to breathe again.
She glanced at Alice, a small, genuine smile appearing.
"Okay… Alice. Thank you. For understanding. For not judging. For… being here."
Alice reached out, letting his hand rest lightly near hers—not pressing, just present.
"You don't need to thank me. That's what friends are for."
And for the first time in a long time, Elara let herself believe that maybe… the past could stay in the past, and that there was still a chance for simple, quiet friendship—trust built not on words alone, but on understanding, care, and shared moments.
Elara takes a slow breath, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. She doesn't look at Alice at first.
"Alice… I'm sorry," she says quietly, finally lifting her eyes.
"But… I can't be your friend."
Alice stops walking.
She continues, her voice calm but heavy.
"There are some reasons I can't explain. Not right now. Maybe not ever. But I know this much—being friends again would pull me back into things I'm still trying to survive."
Alice exhales slowly, processing every word.
"So… even normal friendship is off the table?"
Elara nods.
"Yes. It's not because you did something wrong. It's because I'm still figuring myself out."
There's a pause—soft, honest, painful in a quiet way.
Alice finally smiles, not bitter, not angry. Just understanding.
"Alright," he says gently.
"If friends aren't possible… then let's be good strangers."
Elara looks at him, surprised.
"Good strangers?"
"Yeah," Alice replies.
"People who don't pretend the other doesn't exist. People who respect distance without turning it into hatred."
A small smile curves on Elara's lips.
"That… sounds fair."
They share one last look—no tension, no expectations. Just acceptance.
Then they turn and start walking back toward the hostel together, side by side, but not too close.
As soon as they reach the hostel door—
The door swings open.
Inside—
Noah and Lucien are in the middle of a full-on dramatic argument.
"I told you NOT to touch my bag!" Noah snaps.
Lucien throws his hands up.
"I didn't TOUCH it, I breathed near it!"
Victor stands between them like a tired referee.
"Both of you—calm down. This is a hostel, not a wrestling ring."
Noah points at Lucien.
"He drank my juice!"
Lucien gasps dramatically.
"It was an EMERGENCY. I was emotionally dehydrated."
Victor rubs his temples.
"This is why I need peace. Or earplugs."
Elara freezes at the doorway, eyes wide.
"…What is happening?"
Alice blinks once. Then twice.
"I leave for one hour and the house turns into chaos?"
Lucien notices them and grins.
"Oh look—our silent judges are back."
Noah crosses her arms.
"Tell him, Elara. He's impossible."
Elara just stares, then mutters,
"I went for some peace… and came back to a circus."
Victor sighs in relief.
"Thank God you're here. Please adopt them."
Alice smirks.
"Sorry, I already resigned from babysitting."
Noah and Lucien start arguing again.
Elara looks at Alice, shaking her head—but she's smiling now.
And for the first time that day, the heaviness lifts just a little.
The moment Elara and Alice step inside the hostel room, the argument escalates instead of stopping.
Noah throws her bag on the bed dramatically.
"I specifically told you not to touch my stuff, Lucien!"
Lucien scoffs, leaning against the table.
"Oh please. Your bag takes up half the room. At this point, it's public property."
"PUBLIC PROPERTY?" Noah gasps.
"That bag has my notes, my sketches, and my emotional support snacks."
Lucien raises an eyebrow.
"Emotional support snacks? You mean the chocolate you've been hiding?"
Noah points at him.
"YOU ATE THEM."
Lucien puts a hand on his chest.
"I tasted them. For quality control."
Victor steps in between them, palms raised.
"Okay. Both of you, breathe. Let's talk like civilized humans."
Noah ignores him completely.
"You drank my mango juice."
Lucien grins proudly.
"And I'd do it again."
Victor closes his eyes.
"Lucien… please don't provoke her."
Lucien shrugs.
"What? She started it by labeling her bottle."
Noah snaps back,
"Because you steal!"
Lucien fires instantly,
"Because you hoard!"
They start talking over each other—
"You're impossible—"
"You're dramatic—"
"You're annoying—"
"You're loud—"
Their voices overlap, getting louder by the second.
Alice leans against the doorframe, arms crossed.
"…Did we walk into a live sitcom?"
Elara rubs her forehead.
"I came back for peace. I regret everything."
Victor tries again, louder this time.
"Guys. GUYS. Enough."
Lucien and Noah continue anyway.
Noah: "You even used my mug!"
Lucien: "It was clean!"
Noah: "IT WAS LABELED."
Lucien: "SO WAS THE FRIDGE."
Victor's eye twitches.
Alice whispers to Elara,
"Should we… evacuate?"
Elara sighs.
"Too late."
Suddenly—
Victor SLAMS his hand on the table.
"STOP ITTTT."
The room freezes.
Lucien shuts up mid-sentence.
Noah's mouth stays open for a second… then closes.
Victor straightens, absolutely done.
"I swear," he says sharply,
"if either of you says ONE more word, I will personally assign cleaning duty for the entire month."
Silence.
Lucien slowly raises his hands.
"…I choose life."
Noah nods stiffly.
"I choose silence."
Victor exhales, adjusting his shirt.
"Good. Because I did not wake up today to manage a daycare."
Elara blinks.
"…That was terrifying."
Alice smirks.
"Remind me never to make him angry."
Lucien whispers to Noah,
"He's scary when he snaps."
Noah whispers back,
"Agreed. Truce?"
Lucien nods.
"Temporary."
Victor glares at both of them.
"I can hear you."
Instant silence again.
Elara sits down slowly.
"This project is going to be… interesting."
Alice chuckles under his breath.
"Welcome to our new normal."
And for the first time since morning, the room finally calms down—
not because the fight is resolved,
but because Victor has declared emotional martial law.