The sun was not yet out, but the dormitory was already awake.
Water ran somewhere down the hall. Footsteps passed in uneven rhythms. A door shut, then another.
"Victoria, aren't you going to do your laundry?" Etsuko asked, sorting through a pile at the foot of her bed, fabric shifting softly between her hands.
"Ahhh," was all I managed, sprawled across mine, face half-buried in the sheet.
"You are reporting in tomorrow, right?" she asked, tugging her bedsheet free with a firm pull.
I didn't answer.
"Now's the best time to do your laundry." She glanced toward the basket by my bed, clothes spilling over the side.
"Ugh, I don't wanna," I muttered, turning away.
"Victoria, get up—"
The bed lurched.
I went with it—sheet, pillow, and all—hitting the floor with a dull thud. The impact knocked the air from my chest for a second.
"Ahh—"
"See, I got her off," Min said.
I turned, still on the ground.
Min stood there, rubbing the side of her head as if she'd hit something on the way through. Heiwa stood beside her, arms folded, expression flat, like she had simply observed the outcome.
"Morning," I said, brow creasing.
"Ah—are you okay?" Etsuko asked, her hands pausing mid-fold.
I pushed myself up slowly, brushing lint from my sleeve.
By the time I made it downstairs, the early cool still lingered.
Outside, the ground held the night's chill. The air was damp, faintly carrying the smell of soap and wet cloth.
Behind the dormitory, a few others had already gathered. Sleeves rolled, hands deep in basins. Water sloshed as fabric was lifted and pressed. Soap foam clung to the rims, slipping back in slow streaks.
"I would've liked breakfast first," I said, crouching by an empty basin and dipping my underwear into the water.
The cold seeped into my fingers.
"It's a good thing we gave the uniforms and dresses to the laundry," Min said, lowering herself onto a low stool. It creaked under her weight.
I worked the fabric between my hands. Water rippled outward, catching the dim light.
"You are finally coming in tomorrow," Etsuko said after a while.
My hands slowed.
Then stopped.
The cloth sat half-submerged, dripping steadily back into the basin.
"Fine, I guess. It's been some time, though." I wrung it once before dipping it again, forcing a small smile.
"I also heard you might be getting reassigned," Amihan said, not looking up from her washing. Her movements stayed steady, practiced.
"Hmm," Min hummed, pressing down on a shirt.
"Is that true?" Heiwa asked.
I nodded. "Someone named Miss Rho told me on my way back from the hospital." I paused, fingers tightening slightly around the fabric. "She didn't give details."
For a moment, we fell quiet.
Around us, the others didn't. Someone laughed nearby. A bucket scraped against the ground. Water spilled, then settled again.
"It might be the financial department," Amihan said.
"Or technical," Etsuko added, nudging a pile of clothes aside with her knee.
The moment loosened slightly.
"I don't like that you told me nothing of this," Heiwa said, her gaze fixed on her hands, now coated in a thin layer of foam.
"I'm sorry."
She looked up.
Then smiled.
It settled things more than anything else.
"Just don't forget next time."
"Ohh," Min let out, a quiet chuckle slipping through.
By the time we finished, the sun had climbed.
Light settled across our backs, warm and steady. The basins had gone lukewarm. The foam thinned into cloudy water.
We left the clothes to dry and headed out.
The restaurant wasn't far.
Inside, it was already busy. Voices overlapped, low and constant. Plates shifted. Cutlery tapped against ceramic.
We took a table near the side.
Food arrived quickly—steam rising in thin curls, carrying the scent of oil and spice.
But even as the plates were set down, something else stayed with me.
Looping.
The Law.
It kept coming back.
Not like a sentence.
More like… a shape I couldn't quite hold.
A way things... stayed.
Fire burns.
Not because it wants to.
Not because it means anything.
It just… does.
And somehow... that mattered.
That was the Law.
Not rules.
Not really.
More like… the reason things didn't fall apart when you looked at them.
Or maybe the reason they could be looked at at all.
Everything sat inside it.
Even mistakes.
Even the people who got it wrong.
Thinking fire was a god didn't break anything.
It still burned.
So the Law held.
…Right?
I tried to picture it.
A grid, maybe.
Lines over something endless.
Keeping things in place.
Making sure "me" stayed… me.
Because without it— No.
I stopped there.
Something about that thought felt wrong.
Like stepping too close to an edge you couldn't see.
I remembered the rest. I wish I didn't.
The Angel straightens things.
Cuts away whatever doesn't fit.
The Demon twists them.
Loops you in, over and over, until you forget where it started.
The Eldritch— I couldn't picture that one.
Every time I tried, the thought just… slipped.
Like there was nothing there to hold onto.
And the Static— Noise. Just noise.
No shape. No meaning.
No—
"Victoria, would you like some duck?"
The voice cut through.
Heiwa's hand had already settled lightly over mine.
"Are you okay? You've been spacing out."
"I'm fine," I said, glancing down at the plates now arranged in front of us. Steam still rose faintly. "Just thinking about something."
"Okay." She watched me for a moment, then withdrew her hand. "I asked if you wanted some duck."
"Yes. I'll have some."
She nodded and shifted a piece onto my plate.
Min and Etsuko were already deep into their meal, heads lowered, movements quick and efficient. Amihan sat beside Tatsu—his posture slightly stiff compared to the rest—speaking quietly between bites.
The table held.
Calm.
Contained.
Outside noise pressed in, but didn't settle.
I picked at a piece of fish, the flesh separating easily under my fork.
"Can we have this again for dinner?" Etsuko asked, biting into her meat.
Min nodded, smiling without looking up.
"This is nice," Heiwa said, placing another piece onto my plate.
Around us, the restaurant carried on—voices rising and falling, dishes clinking, chairs shifting.
But at our table, the space held.
For now, that was enough.