1

The morning sunlight streams through the window, dim and soft, casting a warm glow across the room. Yet, it's cold. Damn cold. "I don't wanna get out… of bed…" I mumble, voice muffled by the blankets. "Ugh…"

The light flickers across my face as I roll onto my side, tugging the blanket tighter around me. Damn… I don't remember it being this cold in the mornings. I already miss the calm, sun-drenched mornings in the mansion—those mornings where the warmth settled over me like a comforting hand. Aghhh…!

"..."

Oh… yeah. My eyes—they still sting, huh? Falling asleep with tears running doesn't exactly give them a break. At least they've stopped now, but the dull ache in my red, puffy sockets lingers, a reminder of what I felt last night.

Do I really miss everything I've lost that much? I guess… yeah, I do.

Knock—knock.

Huh? "Yeah...?" I groggily reply to the sound of knocking against the wooden door.

"You should get up. We're starting breakfast now, on the floor below," Orin's voice calls through the door, steady and calm, though the wooden planks soften its clarity.

"Ah… yeah, I hear you. I'll—brr—be down. Just give me a second," I respond, though my body betrays my words, sinking deeper into the bed's inviting warmth.

Stretching my arms high above my head, my body stretches across the bed as a quiet, drawn-out yawn escapes my lips. Slowly, the stiffness in my muscles eases, coaxing me into motion. With a swift movement, I sit up on the edge of the bed, the cool air wrapping around me like an unwelcome embrace. Shivering slightly, I quickly pull on my clothes, the fabric brushing against my chilled skin as I brace myself for the day ahead.

2

"Good morning…" I call out as I descend the last steps of the staircase, my eyes sweeping over the three seated around the table.

"Good morning, Kaito. Come and take a seat," Orin responds, his voice as calm and steady as ever, carrying a soothing warmth that feels perfectly in tune with the morning's quiet hum.

"Good morning, man. Sleep well?" Ronan chimes in, speaking through a mouthful of bread, his casual tone matching his laid-back demeanor.

"Morning…" Althea mumbles, her tired gaze and sluggish voice revealing just how much the early hour is weighing on her.

"I slept well. How about you, Ronan? Not feeling any side effects from last night? Also, by the way, where are Sela and Farren? Still asleep?" I ask, making my way over to the table.

"Good to hear. I slept well too. As for Sela and Farren—" Ronan starts to answer, but he's abruptly cut off by the woman across the table.

"They're still sleeping, probably," Althea interjects, taking over mid-sentence.

"Hey… Cutting someone off like that isn't exactly polite, Miss Althea," Ronan says, lowering the glass of milk he'd been about to drink back onto the table with a slight frown.

"Yeah—whatever," she replies flatly, her tone firm and uninterested, clearly unbothered by Ronan's remark.

"Anyways… as for last night… Well, I had to clear my stomach this morning," Ronan continues, glancing at Althea, who looks ready to chime in.

"First thing in the morning, he ran straight out the exit door and puked," she cuts in, probably just to tease him, taking a casual sip from her glass of milk.

"Yeah, whatever. You probably puked last night too, considering how long you and Farren kept going. By the way, who won?" Ronan fires back, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looks over at her.

Orin sits quietly beside Ronan, sipping from a glass of water and nibbling on some bread, staying out of the playful exchange.

"Sure, fair enough," Althea replies with a shrug. "But at least I didn't come running through the inn like an idiot, unlike you. Anyway, Farren won. That dumbass couldn't give up. I think he downed five more tankards of ale than his body could handle. Bet his stomach's wrecked today."

As she finishes speaking, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the stairs. Farren's figure appears at the top, his hand clamped tightly over his mouth.

Without breaking stride, he rushes past our table, his voice muffled as he mumbles, "I'll be back… need some fresh air…"

"Sure, man, good luck," Ronan replies casually, not sparing Farren a glance, his focus still on finishing his breakfast.

"Idiot," Althea mutters firmly, clearly referring to Farren.

Does this group ever have a moment without something unusual happening? I don't think I've seen anything remotely normal from them so far. At least Orin seems to keep his composure.

Sitting quietly beside him, I focus on slicing a piece of cheese for my bread. Orin glances at me, a hint of apology in his eyes, like he wishes he could rein in the chaos but knows it's hopeless.

As my thoughts linger on the group's dynamic, I hear soft footsteps, the gentle slap of bare feet on the wooden stairs. Emerging slowly from the upper floor, a white dress sways into view, brushing just above her thighs. Long, tangled white hair cascades down her back, looking as disheveled as its owner. Down comes Sela, wrapped in nothing but a thin nightdress.

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"Good morning, guys—" she says, stretching her arms above her head with a long, drawn-out yawn that reminds me of a kitten. It might have been endearing if her hair wasn't such a wild, ruffled mess.

How is she not freezing in that?

"Good morning, Sela…" I respond, trying to mask my confusion.

"Good morning, cu—" Ronan begins, but Althea's voice cuts him off.

"Good morning, Sela. Did you sleep well?" she asks calmly, her tone soft yet firm.

Orin remains silent, sitting motionless. Not even a raised brow. Is he tired, or just entirely done with this situation? Probably the latter.

"Yeah, I slept well. Thank you. How about you?" Sela replies, her voice sweet but undeniably lazy, as if she's only halfway awake.

"Good to hear. Same here… if we're not counting the alcohol," Althea says with a small sigh.

"Sela," Orin suddenly interjects, his tone casual but tinged with concern. "Go back upstairs and put on some proper clothes before Ronan gets any weird ideas… please."

"Yeah, put on some clothes… please," Althea echoes, giving Sela a sharp glance.

"Huh? What do you mean? I am wearing clothes," Sela says innocently, tugging lightly at her dress. "This feels more comfy…"

"We both know you're naked under that, so go back up and put on something real. Just listen to me, please. You do this way too often," Althea insists, her voice steady, but you can tell she's holding back frustration.

"No, no, don't worry, Sela," Ronan chimes in, a sly grin creeping onto his face. "You should get to choose for yourself, right? Don't let someone like Althea boss you around about what to wear."

"Exactly!" Sela says, as though Ronan just delivered some profound wisdom. "Good save, Ronan. Thanks, he he." She plops down at the table with a careless thud, completely ignoring Althea's protests.

"Of course, no worries, Sela," Ronan replies with a nod, looking as though he's just accomplished something incredible.

"Don't take his side, Sela!" Althea snaps, glaring at Ronan with visible disappointment. Her tone makes him shift uncomfortably, his gaze falling to the table as he retreats into silence.

"But… he is nice to me, though, right? Who even minds? There aren't any creeps here, anyway… right?" Sela pauses, glancing at Ronan with a playful smirk. "Well, except for Ronan. But he's harmless."

Her words hang in the air for a moment before she continues, her voice drifting into a softer, more contemplative tone. "I'll change into clothes after breakfast… probably. So, no worries, okay?"

"Agh… Sure…" Althea sighs in resignation, shaking her head slightly as she refocuses on her breakfast.

"Thank you, Althea," Sela says sweetly, her smile innocent and sincere, as though the whole exchange was perfectly reasonable.

Ronan, ever the opportunist, subtly lowers his head under the table, his movements slow and deliberate, as if trying not to draw attention. His goal? Sneak a glance at Sela, who's seated conveniently beside Althea. This guy… seriously?

He adjusts his angle, squinting as if sheer determination could create the gap he's looking for in the hem of Sela's dress. But the fabric betrays him, draping perfectly to thwart his view. Still undeterred, Ronan leans in closer, his mind racing for an excuse. "Hey, Sela… mind, uh, moving your legs a bit farther apart?" he asks, his tone as nonchalant as he can muster.

"Huh?" Sela tilts her head, her brows furrowing in honest confusion. But then something clicks, and her expression shifts into one of mischief, a sly grin creeping onto her face. "Ohhh… I see what's going on. Hehehe. Sure, Ronan." Her voice takes on an oddly playful tone, one that feels almost out of character for her.

With exaggerated slowness, Sela begins to shift her legs apart, as though she's enjoying dragging out the moment. Ronan's eyes widen, practically sparkling with anticipation. But just as he leans in for what he's convinced will be his triumphant victory, a sharp thud interrupts his mission.

Althea's foot slams down on his head, pinning him in place like a bug caught under a boot. "You absolute idiot," she hisses, her tone a perfect mix of irritation and disgust.

Ronan lets out a muffled groan, retreating under the force of her foot as his grand plan crumbles to dust. He slinks back to his seat, rubbing his head and muttering under his breath.

"Better luck next time, Ronan," Sela teases, her smirk widening as she watches him retreat, clearly entertained by the failed attempt.

Unfazed, she casually crosses her legs, her demeanor completely unbothered, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "Well, that was amusing," she adds with a lazy grin, reaching for a piece of bread from the table, as if it were just another moment in an otherwise normal morning.

As she bites into the bread, her legs shift beneath the table, swinging gently as if she's lost in her own thoughts. There's a lightness to the movement, a playful rhythm to it—her feet brushing the floor softly. She tilts her head to the side, eyes half-lidded with a content, almost dreamy smile as she chews, the innocence of her motions making it seem as though she's in her own little world, perfectly at ease.

For a brief moment, it's as though everything slows down, the morning feeling warmer, more peaceful—her presence effortlessly adding a sense of quiet joy to the room.

"Anyway, Orin, what's the plan for today?" I ask, breaking the brief lull in conversation.

"I'm not entirely sure yet," Orin replies, leaning back in his chair as he casually finishes his breakfast. "I'd say we don't really have anything pressing to do today. The money we made yesterday should cover our needs for now, so maybe a day off? Or we could tackle a lower-ranked quest. Honestly, I'm not sure yet, but anything would be better than staying here. These idiots are going to drain my brain cells…" His tone is nonchalant, but his eyes show a hint of amusement as he shakes his head. "Actually, you know what? A quest sounds like a good idea."

"I see," I nod thoughtfully. "Well, I agree. But, mind if I stay here while you guys head out? I'd like to take a closer look around the place. Plus, I wouldn't be much help as just a spectator. Next time, though, I'll come along and actually participate in the quest."

"Yeah, that's fine by me," Orin replies, rising from his seat. "If you're staying here, though, you might as well get some training in while you're at it."

He stretches, then looks around at the table. "Alright, people! We'll head to the guildhouse once everyone's done eating." He heads toward the exit of the inn, tossing a casual glance back at us. "I'll go ahead and check things out while you all finish up. I'll find a good quest for us."

"Hm, yeah, sure… Kaito, you staying here with us?" Ronan asks, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Wouldn't want you leaving me alone with the women, that wouldn't be too kind, would it?"

"Yeah, you should stay here," Sela chimes in with a mischievous grin, her eyes glinting with playful intent. "Wouldn't want to leave poor Ronan alone with just us two."

Althea doesn't respond, her gaze fixed on her food, as if she's decided to let the moment pass her by without further commentary.

I chuckle softly, easing back into my chair and letting my arms rest casually on the table. "Hm, sure. I'll wait on y'all," I say, a slight smile tugging at my lips as I settle in for a moment of peace.

Ronan looks over at me, a grin spreading across his face. "Thanks, man. You're the best," he says, his voice as laid-back and carefree as ever.

The quiet hum of the morning fills the air as we all linger for a moment. The light outside filters through the windows, casting soft shadows over the table. Even with the usual chaos of the group, there's a certain calmness to the moment—one that feels almost like a brief pause before the next adventure unfolds.