For the first time in a long while, Vicky woke up without the feeling that something was about to collapse.
No alarms in his head.
No strange pressure in his chest.
No distant echoes calling his name.
Just sunlight.
It slipped through the thin curtains and landed directly on his face, warm and irritating in the most ordinary way possible.
He groaned and turned to the side.
And immediately froze.
Aarna was there.
Curled up beside him, completely unbothered by personal space, her silver hair spread across the pillow like a soft halo. One arm was thrown over his chest, her fingers loosely gripping his shirt as if she might lose him if she let go.
She was sleeping peacefully.
Too peacefully.
Vicky stared at the ceiling.
…When did this become normal?
As if sensing his awareness, Aarna shifted, mumbling something incomprehensible before pressing her forehead lightly against his shoulder.
"No moving," she whispered, eyes still closed.
"I wasn't moving," Vicky said quietly.
"You were thinking about moving."
"…That's unfair."
She smiled without opening her eyes. "I know."
He sighed and gave up.
By the time they finally emerged from the room, the house was already alive.
Kael sat at the dining table with several open maps, arguing with Arelia about routes and supplies.
"I'm telling you, the eastern road is faster," Kael said.
"And I'm telling you," Arelia shot back, "that the eastern road is boring."
"That is not a valid tactical reason."
"It is to me."
Luka leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, watching the argument with visible disinterest.
"They're going to ignore both routes anyway," he muttered.
Eren, sitting on the floor with a cup of tea, nodded. "Statistically speaking, yes."
Vicky paused in the doorway.
"…Why does this feel like a bad time to exist?"
Arelia noticed him and grinned. "Perfect timing! Tell him he's wrong."
Kael turned hopefully. "Vicky?"
Aarna squeezed past him and dropped into a chair. "He hasn't had breakfast yet. His opinion is invalid."
"That's abuse," Vicky said.
"That's care," she replied, already reaching for food.
Somehow, the argument dissolved after that.
No decisions were made.
No plans finalized.
And oddly enough… no one minded.
They spent the rest of the morning wandering through the city.
Not as heroes.
Not as anomalies.
Just people.
Arelia dragged everyone into a crowded street market, immediately getting distracted by shiny trinkets and loud vendors. Kael followed reluctantly, trying—and failing—to keep track of expenses.
Eren stopped at almost every book stall, eyes lighting up whenever he found old texts.
"These are pre-rift publications," he said softly, reverently turning a page. "They're rare."
"Are they useful?" Luka asked.
Eren smiled. "Maybe not. But they're honest."
Vicky wasn't sure what that meant, but he didn't question it.
Aarna, meanwhile, was unusually quiet.
She walked beside Vicky, occasionally bumping into him on purpose, humming softly. Every now and then, she'd look up at him as if checking whether he was still real.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "Just… enjoying."
"Enjoying what?"
She gestured vaguely at everything. "This. You not running. The world not breaking."
He smiled faintly. "Low standards."
"Hard-earned standards," she corrected.
At noon, they stopped at a small open café.
It wasn't fancy. Just wooden tables, mismatched chairs, and food that smelled far better than it looked.
Arelia immediately challenged Luka to an eating contest.
"I accept," Luka said calmly.
Five minutes later, Arelia was staring at his empty plate in disbelief.
"That's cheating."
"You suggested it."
"That doesn't make it fair."
Aarna laughed, leaning against Vicky as she watched them argue. "I like this version of Luka."
"There are versions?" Vicky asked.
She nodded seriously. "Many. This one eats."
Kael groaned. "Please don't encourage her."
Eren quietly paid the bill before anyone noticed.
The afternoon passed lazily.
They rested near the outer gardens, watching people come and go. Children played. Merchants argued. Life continued, unaware of how close it had come to disaster not long ago.
Vicky sat on the grass, hands resting behind him, eyes half-closed.
"This feels… strange," he admitted.
Kael glanced at him. "In a bad way?"
"No. Just… unfamiliar."
Aarna lay down beside him, staring at the sky. "That's because peace is not your natural environment."
"That's depressing."
She smiled. "It's honest."
For a moment, no one spoke.
The wind moved gently through the trees.
And for the first time, Vicky allowed himself to think—
Maybe this can last.
Night came quietly.
They returned to the residence, tired in the most normal sense of the word.
Arelia immediately claimed a couch.
Kael resumed planning, despite promising not to.
Eren read.
Luka stood near the window, watching the street below.
Vicky sat on the edge of his bed, removing his gloves.
Aarna stood in the doorway.
"…You're sleeping here again, right?" she asked, trying—and failing—to sound casual.
He looked up at her.
"Yeah."
She smiled, relief obvious, and practically skipped into the room.
As the lights dimmed, Vicky stared at the ceiling once more.
The day replayed in his mind.
Laughter.
Arguments.
Food.
Sunlight.
Normal.
Just as his eyes began to close—
Something shifted.
Not inside him.
Outside.
Far away, something unseen observed the residence.
A presence brushed against the edge of reality, paused… and withdrew.
Vicky frowned slightly in his sleep.
And somewhere beyond the city, a quiet voice spoke:
"So this is how he lives now…"
The night remained calm.
But the world had noticed.