The safehouse was quiet. Almost too quiet.
Izuma sat against the wall near the far window, his knees up, arms resting lazily over them. The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight slipping through a crooked shutter. The scent of burnt wood and whatever Rinji had tried to cook earlier still lingered faintly.
Adia slept soundly next to him, her head resting against his shoulder. Her breath was slow and even, a tiny puff of warmth brushing the side of his neck. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his, like some kind of emotional tether refusing to let him go. It should've been uncomfortable. But it wasn't. If anything, It was quite relaxing.
He looked down at her sleeping face. The tiny furrow in her brow. The tear stains still faint on her cheeks. The way she'd latched onto him earlier like he was some returned war hero. Or a ghost.
He sighed quietly, eyes distant.
"How many more times am I gonna die before I get used to this...?"
He didn't mean to think it out loud.
The air didn't answer.
And neither did the sleeping Adia.
His mind spiraled again. Thinking. Predicting. Planning.
If I trip and fall off a roof—is that enough to trigger it? If someone poisons me? Crushes me? What if I drown? Burn?
He imagined a hundred deaths in slow motion.
Each more terrifying than the last.
He blinked slowly. His body relaxed.
And eventually, sleep came.
—- - -
Sunlight streamed through thin curtains.
Izuma stirred, groaned.
His head sank into a pillow softer than anything he remembered.
"Wait..." He murmured.
His eyes sprang open, He blinked. Then blinked again. This wasn't the safehouse. Not the one from last night.
He sat up fast. Panic shot through him.
He was back at Rinji's place.
His heart hammered. He looked around quickly.
The couch. The half-finished suit of armor in the corner. The weird wind chimes made from melted forks. Yep. Definitely Rinji's.
"...Did I sleepwalk or did a sneaky scout bring me back here?"
He looked to the side. No Adia.
Just a folded blanket and a pillow.
This Blanket wasn't folded last time, and there wasn't a pillow here...so I didn't die, Pheww.
He scratched the back of his head.
"Rinji must've carried us back. That sneaky bastard."
He stood, stretched, his spine cracking like old wood. Still feeling scared. But less... haunted.
He made his way downstairs, the smell of something unholy hitting him halfway.
What the fuck is that?
Burnt garlic? Sulfur? Hope... Despair?
He peeked into the kitchen.
Lira was rocking back and forth on a wooden stool, upside down, arms dangling, staring at the ceiling like she was trying to summon a demon through sheer boredom.
Rinji was at the stove, wearing an apron that said "Kiss the Cook or Die Trying" and stirring something that resembled lava mixed with noodles.
Woah that English on his apron... Must've had it custom made.
"He lives!" Lira announced, flipping forward like a circus acrobat and landing on her feet with a clap.
"We thought you entered a coma. Or worse—joined the tax department."
Izuma blinked.
So tax even exists in this world too, I kind of wish it didn't.
"Morning to you too, I guess."
Rinji looked over his shoulder, squinting. "You always look like that when you wake up or did something eat your soul last night?"
"He's always like that," Lira said, poking Izuma's cheek with a fork she probably wasn't supposed to have.
"Like a sad prince from a play where everybody dies in Act One."
Even plays exist in this world...hmmm, interesting.
Izuma pulled the fork from his face and dropped it in the sink.
"Where's Adia?"
"Shopping," Rinji replied, wiping sweat off his brow.
"Said something about 'proving her independence as a strong and capable female protagonist' before walking straight into a closed door."
Lira nodded sagely. "Truly an inspiration to us all."
Izuma snorted.
They were idiots.
Hilarious, ridiculous idiots.
And for the first time in hours, maybe even days, his smile wasn't entirely fake.
—- - -
Ten minutes later, the kitchen was in utter chaos.
Izuma was having fun, little by little, the world was starting to make more and more sense.
"So apparently noodles, chickens and frogs also exist here..." He muttered.
/ But what was happening in the kitchen at that moment couldn't even be processed by the mastermind izuma. \
Rinji had burned the noodles. Again.
Lira was trying to convince everyone that toads made better soup base than chickens.
Izuma was trying to sit quietly and not die of laughter.
"I'm telling you, if you simmer the legs just right, it adds that smoky, foresty vibe," Lira insisted, waving a ladle like a magic wand.
Rinji pointed with a spoon. "You're banned from touching frogs, Lira. After last time."
"That was ONE time and it bit me first. I was defending myself."
"You tried to kiss it."
"IT WAS A DARE."
Izuma leaned on the table, covering his mouth.
"This is... the most aggressively stupid argument I've ever heard."
"Thank you," Lira said proudly.
"That wasn't a compliment."
The door slammed open.
Adia burst in, panting.
"THE MAIN GAL HAS ARRIVED!"
Everyone stared.
She threw down her bag like she just finished a boss fight.
Lira peered in.
"...You bought a melon."
"Yes."
"We needed onions."
"...Melon is like an onion. It has layers."
Rinji actually dropped the spoon.
"What. The. Hell?"
Izuma laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.
Adia puffed out her cheeks, pointing at all three of them.
"Rude. I risked my life for this melon."
"Was it cursed? Did it fight back?"
"It rolled off the stall and I had to chase it."
"She wrestled it,"
Izuma added, wiping tears from his eyes.
They laughed.
Hard.
And loud.
The kind of laughter that drowns out pain. That stitches something inside.
---
Later, the townspeople came by.
One by one.
An old baker brought fresh bread.
A little girl from the smithy gave him a metal flower she made.
A Gabbit farmer tipped his hat, thanking Izuma for helping the town, even if he "looked too soft to do it twice."
Rinji teased him. Lira called him a hero. Adia beamed like he was a goddamn king.
He smiled. He laughed. He cracked sarcastic lines.
But something was missing.
A piece that hadn't come back with him.
And on top of that, he still had dozens, if not hundreds of questions left unanswered.
But...
Still, they ate, joked, teased Adia for her useless melon, and argued about frog legs vs chicken soup again, Izuma looked around the room.
He felt something stir.
Maybe it wasn't peace.
But it was a step towards something like it.
And for a single moment...
He didn't feel like dying.
He felt...
Alive.