Lunar surfaced from sleep slowly, her consciousness rising in soft, uneven waves as the warmth of the morning pressed gently against her senses. For a few seconds, she simply lay there, suspended between dreaming and waking, her thoughts still hazy and unformed. Then she tried to shift.
And immediately realized she couldn't.
A weight pressed firmly against her, heavy and unyielding, pinning her down against the mattress that made even the smallest movement feel impossible. Her brows furrowed slightly as her mind struggled to catch up, and she forced her eyes open, blinking away the last remnants of sleep.
The first thing Lunar saw when her vision finally focused was a face—very close, close enough that she could feel the faint warmth of another person's breath brushing against her skin. Persian.
The girl was still fast asleep, completely at ease, her breathing slow and steady, utterly unbothered by the fact that she was currently half sprawled across Lunar's entire body. One arm was draped securely over Lunar's waist, holding her in place with surprising strength for someone who wasn't even conscious, while her head rested comfortably against Lunar's shoulder. Her hair was slightly messy from sleep, a few loose strands falling across her face, and her expression was soft, peaceful in a way that contrasted sharply with the sharp, composed demeanor she usually carried when awake.
Lunar blinked once, then again, letting the situation settle in piece by piece as her mind caught up with reality. "…I see," she murmured quietly, her voice still thick with sleep, though there was a faint note of resignation beneath it.
The reason for this particular predicament wasn't difficult to figure out.
It had all started a few days after the Gimcrack Stakes. Specifically, after Anonym had once again, without hesitation, claimed her usual spot beside Lunar in bed as if nothing had changed at all.
That, of course, had not gone unnoticed.
—
"You're doing it again."
Saiya's voice had been calm, but the faint narrowing of her silver eyes made it clear she was not amused. Her gaze was fixed squarely on Anonym, who was already comfortably settled under the covers beside Lunar, looking entirely at home, like a cat that had claimed its favorite sleeping spot without any intention of moving.
Anonym blinked up at her, tilting her head slightly in mild confusion. "…Doing what?"
"Don't play dumb," Persian cut in immediately from the doorway, arms crossed as she leaned against the frame, her tone sharp. "You've been hogging Lunar's bed for years."
Anonym frowned faintly, clearly unconvinced. "…That's not true."
"It absolutely is," Namawa added with a small sigh, though there was a trace of amusement in her voice as she glanced between them. "You practically live here at this point."
Anonym's expression shifted into genuine confusion, as if the accusation itself didn't make sense to her. "…She never complained."
"That's because Lunar doesn't complain about anything," Saiya replied evenly.
Lunar, who was sitting right there in the middle of the discussion, blinked at that. "…I complain sometimes," she said, sounding mildly defensive.
Four pairs of eyes turned toward her at once.
"…Once in a while," she amended after a brief pause.
That was the moment the room collectively tipped into open argument, voices overlapping as the issue was no longer ignored.
And then—
"Alright, that's enough." Aunt Nel stepped in from outside the room.
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an authority that immediately silenced the room. She stood there with her arms crossed, her expression firm as she looked between all of them, clearly having already reached a decision.
"Anonym," she began, her tone leaving no room for negotiation, "you've already bothered Lunar enough. In fact, you've had far more than your fair share."
Anonym straightened slightly at that, her brows knitting together as she instinctively prepared to object. "…That's—"
"So," Aunt Nel continued smoothly, cutting her off before she could even finish, "for the next three days before Lunar leaves, we're going to do things fairly."
The room fell quiet, the earlier tension shifting into anticipation as everyone waited to hear what she had decided.
"Each night," Aunt Nel said, her tone firm and final, "one person gets a turn to sleep over with Lunar. No exceptions."
Anonym's eyes widened just slightly, the weight of those words settling in. "…What?"
"And since you've already had yours," Aunt Nel added, glancing at her pointedly, "you won't be included in the rotation."
That was the moment Anonym's composure finally cracked, if only a little. "…That's not fair," she said, her voice low but clearly dissatisfied.
"It's exactly fair," Persian replied immediately, a grin spreading across her face as she pushed herself off the wall, clearly pleased with how things were turning out.
Saiya gave a single, decisive nod. "Agreed."
Namawa clasped her hands together lightly, her smile soft but unmistakably eager. "It's very logical."
Anonym's gaze shifted toward Lunar, searching—just for a moment—for any sign of support, any hesitation, any disagreement. But she found none. The decision had already been made, and everyone in the room had accepted it.
Her shoulders lowered slightly, the resistance draining out of her posture. "…I disagree," she said again, though her voice was quieter this time, lacking the same conviction.
"No," Persian replied instantly, not even giving her the chance to argue further.
"No," Saiya echoed, just as firmly.
"No," Namawa added, still smiling.
Anonym fell silent.
After a brief pause, she lowered her head just a fraction, the smallest crack in her composure betraying her defeat. "…Tch."
The quiet click of her tongue was the closest thing to protest she allowed herself, and once it became clear that she wasn't going to push the issue any further, the atmosphere in the room shifted almost immediately, the tension dissolving into something far lighter.
"Great!" Namawa clapped her hands together with visible excitement, already leaning forward as though she had been waiting for this exact outcome from the very beginning. "So how do we decide the order?"
Black Caviar didn't hesitate for even a second. "The shortest gets to choose first."
There was a brief pause.
"…Excuse me?" Saiya said flatly, her expression going completely still.
"…That seems incredibly biased," Persian added, her eyes narrowing slightly as she complained.
Meanwhile, Namawa had already lit up like someone who had just been handed victory without contest. "YES."
She practically bounced on the spot, her hand shooting up immediately with zero hesitation. "I pick tonight!"
"Of course you do…" Saiya muttered under her breath, though there was a faint trace of relief in her voice as she leaned back slightly. "Then I'll just take the last night." "That works perfectly for me," she added, clearly content with her choice.
Persian let out a soft sigh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she glanced between them. "Well… it's not like I have much of a choice in this, do I?"
Her tone remained calm, but there was a quiet resignation beneath it as she accepted her place in the order without further complaint, knowing full well that arguing at this point would be completely pointless.
Still half-awake and perched on the edge of her bed, Lunar watched the entire exchange unfold, her expression neutral, while her thoughts drifted in a direction completely separate from the arguments and decisions of the room.
If Persian has no choice in this… her mind wanders. Then what about me?
Her gaze swept slowly around the familiar walls of her room, lingering on the bed, the neatly arranged shelves. Her space, her routines—all of it had just been reorganized, reshuffled, decided by everyone else, without a single word from her.
Am I just… the venue?
The thought hovered in her mind for a moment before she let out a soft, quiet breath, exhaling the tension she hadn't realized she was holding. …Well. Her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. It's not like I hate it.
If anything… she found herself preferring it this way.
Lunar had always enjoyed having something, or someone to hold onto as she slept. There was a genuine comfort in the presence of another body beside her, a steady warmth that made the night feel less empty, less cold, and less quiet. It was a familiar kind of reassurance that she had grown used to.
Especially since she had a tendency to leave her windows open. She liked the pale glow of the moonlight and the gentle night breeze drifting in, but that came with its own drawbacks, as the temperature often dropped enough that her bed felt cool, even slightly biting, and she had little patience for heaters. Alone, the night could feel long and chilly, but having someone there changed everything.
A warm presence beside her. A reassuring weight. Something to hold. Something that tethered her to the room, to the moment, to the comfort of shared space. Physical touch had always carried a quiet, undeniable solace, particularly when it came from someone she trusted, someone she cared about.
The thought softened her features, easing the lingering stiffness in her shoulders and relaxing the faint tension around her eyes.
Right, speaking of which…
Her gaze drifted downward again, settling on the figure draped across her. Still deep asleep and holding her. Lunar's eyes lingered, taking in the subtleties she hadn't fully noticed before—the gentle curve of her nose, the soft waves of chestnut hair fanning neatly across the pillow, a few stray strands falling naturally along the side of her face. Even in sleep, Persian radiated a calm elegance, her features relaxed into a peaceful expression that stood in stark contrast to the sharp composure she carried in her waking hours.
It was neat, it was refined, it was very much so Persian.
The thought pulled Lunar back to the contrast with the person she had woken up next to the morning before. She blinked once, quietly to herself. "…Yeah," she murmured. "…Very different."
The memory of Namawa was vivid, impossible to ignore. Specifically—her hair. Or rather, the utter lack of any order in it. Lunar could still see it as clearly as if it were happening right now. Namawa, freshly woken, her usually long neon-blue hair transformed into an explosion of chaos. Strands jutted out in every direction, layered and tangled into a spiky, unruly mess that made Lunar laugh silently at the comparison that had immediately come to mind—it looked like Sonic the Hedgehog.
It was impressive. And, admittedly, just a tad bit entertaining.
But even that wasn't the most memorable part of that night, no, what truly lingered in Lunar's mind wasn't the hair—it was what happened before sleep even began.
The scene replayed itself perfectly in her thoughts. Lunar had been lying on her bed, idly scrolling through her phone, enjoying the quiet of the late night while waiting for Namawa to arrive. The faint breeze drifting through the open window, the calm stillness, it had all felt like a prelude to something ordinary.
And then the door knocked and opened as Namawa walked in. "Hey," she greeted casually, her voice playful.
Lunar barely glanced up, distracted. "Mhm," she murmured in reply, not fully looking.
A few seconds later, when she finally lifted her eyes again, her gaze landed fully on Namawa. And at that moment, everything just stopped.
Right in front of her, Namawa had already started undressing. Her top was gone, completely, and she was midway through pulling down her pants without a care in the world.
Time seemed to stretch by the dozens as Lunar's heart skipped, then jumped. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She shot upright so abruptly that it almost looked like she had been launched off the bed. "WAIT—STOP—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" she yelled, her voice cracking with disbelief.
Her voice cracked slightly as she hurriedly covered her eyes with both hands, turning her head away as if that alone could somehow erase what she had already seen.
Namawa paused mid-motion, her expression shifting into mild confusion rather than embarrassment. "…Why are you screaming?" she asked, completely unfazed. "It's the middle of the night."
"That's NOT the issue!" Lunar shot back immediately, her hands still firmly shielding her vision. "Why are you undressing like that in front of me?!"
She pressed her palms tighter against her face, as if reinforcing the barrier. "I do NOT need to see—everything—just suddenly appear like that!"
Namawa tilted her head slightly, clearly trying to process the problem. "…My body runs hot," she explained after a moment, as if that answered everything. "I usually sleep without clothes in my room."
Lunar's entire body stiffened at that. "This is NOT your room!" she snapped, her voice rising in disbelief. "If you're sleeping here tonight, you have to at least wear something!"
There was a short silence.
"…Ehhh."
Namawa didn't sound convinced.
Lunar didn't lower her hands. "I'm serious."
Another pause followed, stretching just long enough to test her patience. Then, finally—
"Fine."
Lunar heard the faint rustle of fabric shifting. Slowly, cautiously, the tension in her shoulders eased just a little, though her hands remained firmly over her eyes as she waited for confirmation that it was safe to look again.
Namawa slipped her bra back on, but instead of fully dressing, she simply finished pulling her pants down properly, leaving herself in her underwear as if that was a perfectly reasonable compromise.
Then she walked closer. Lunar could feel her presence right in front of her now.
"…Is this enough clothes for you~?" Namawa asked, her tone light and teasing, clearly enjoying the situation far more than she should have.
Before Lunar could react, Namawa reached forward and gently pried her hands away from her face. "Wait—!"
Too late.
Lunar's eyes opened, and she was forced to look. For a brief moment, her mind went completely blank.
Because while it was technically more appropriate than before… it was still very much not okay. What made it worse was that, now that she was actually looking, Lunar couldn't help but notice details she had never really paid attention to before. The defined muscles along Namawa's shoulders and chest were clearly visible, her build lean and muscular in the perfect places with thunder thighs and prominent calfs, graced by the visible outline of a six-pack shown across her abdomen—features that were usually hidden beneath the oversized clothing she wore often.
"…You are unbelievable," Lunar muttered under her breath, her face heating up as she quickly turned her head away again.
Namawa only grinned, completely unbothered.
That night had… not gone very smoothly.
They had eventually gone to bed like that, with Namawa making absolutely no further effort to adjust her choice of "sleepwear," leaving Lunar to deal with the consequences of that decision for the rest of the night. And unfortunately for her, those consequences had been very real.
For one, Namawa slept exactly how she lived—chaotically.
At some point during the night, she had latched onto Lunar like a koala, clinging tightly from behind with absolutely no regard for personal space, and Lunar had found herself painfully aware of the two "warmth" pressed directly against her back. That alone had made it difficult to relax, her body tense in a way that refused to fully settle.
But it didn't stop there.
Namawa moved constantly, as if still running even in her sleep. Random kicks, sudden shifts, the occasional tightening of her grip for no apparent reason—it was like trying to rest beside a very affectionate dog. Lunar had been forced to adjust her position again and again, each attempt at comfort lasting only a few minutes before something inevitably disrupted it.
By the time morning came, she had somehow ended up all the way at the very edge of the bed, barely clinging to her space and Namawa… had completely taken over everything else.
Worse still, at some point during the night, their positions had somehow flipped in the most absurd way imaginable. Lunar distinctly remembered waking up briefly in the early hours, only to realize that Namawa's feet had replaced where her head had once been, meaning the girl had somehow rotated herself entirely and ended up upside down behind her.
It had been… a long night, a very long night.
The memory slowly faded, dissolving into the background as Lunar returned to the present, her gaze settling once more on the much calmer figure resting on top of her. The contrast between the two was almost unbelievable. Where Namawa had been all restless and chaotic energy, Persian was the complete opposite—still, composed, and quietly warm, like a steady presence that asked for nothing and disturbed nothing.
As if sensing that Lunar was awake, Persian began to stir. A soft, groggy sound slipped past her lips as she shifted slightly, her grip loosening just enough for her to lift her head. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, revealing hazel, honey-colored irises that gradually came into focus as awareness returned to her.
They met Lunar's pale yellow gaze almost immediately. For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Lunar's lips curved into a small, gentle smile. "…G'mornin," she murmured softly, her voice still carrying the faint remnants of sleep.
Persian blinked once, still clearly caught between sleep and wakefulness. "…G'morning," she replied quietly, her tone just as drowsy.
She didn't move right away, lingering in that half-asleep state for a few seconds as her mind slowly caught up with her surroundings, piecing together where she was and why. Then, still not fully awake, she asked in a soft, unfocused voice, "…What time is it?"
Lunar shifted her gaze slightly toward the side of the bed, as if considering it. "It's probably well into the afternoon," she said calmly. "The sun is bright as ever."
She paused for a moment before adding, "…I don't know the exact time, though. My phone's on the table, and right now I can't really—"
Her words trailed off before she finished the sentence. Instead, her eyes simply drifted downward, settling on the arm still wrapped securely around her waist.
Persian followed her gaze.
And immediately froze.
"…Oh." The realization hit all at once, sharp and immediate. "Sorry—!"
She quickly pulled her arm back, retreating slightly as she shifted her body forward to give Lunar more space, but the moment she did, she stopped completely.
Because in moving like that, she had unintentionally closed the distance between them even further.
Now their faces were only inches apart, close enough that she could feel Lunar's breath lightly brushing against her skin, close enough that every small detail became impossible to ignore.
Lunar blinked at her sudden stiffness, a hint of confusion crossing her expression. "…Hm?"
Persian's eyes flickered, caught in place as if she had forgotten how to move. "…I—"
Before she could finish, Lunar spoke again, her tone light and reassuring. "What are you apologizing for, silly?" She smiled softly, completely at ease. "It's nothing."
Then, without hesitation, she added in the same gentle voice with a hint of playfulness, "If anything… it felt really comfortable, I had a really good sleep in your arms, you know?"
And somehow, that simple, honest admission only made Persian freeze even more, the warmth rising quickly to her face as she struggled to process what she had just heard.
The moment lingered for just a second longer, delicate and uncertain, as the warmth between them settled into something neither of them quite knew how to acknowledge, let alone respond to.
And then—Knock. Knock.
The sound came from the door, clean and perfectly timed, cutting through the quiet like a blade and shattering the fragile atmosphere almost instantly.
A familiar voice followed right after. "Lunar, are you awake?" It was of Written Tycoon's.
Lunar blinked once, the lingering haze of the moment clearing as she straightened slightly, her composure returning with practiced ease. "Yeah, I'm up," she replied calmly. "You can come in."
The door opened slowly, revealing Written Tycoon already fully prepared for the day, her demeanor as neat and composed as ever. Her presence alone seemed to bring a quiet order into the room.
Her eyes immediately found Lunar. Then they shifted to the girl sitting far too stiffly beside her. It was her daughter.
It took only a single glance. The faint redness dusting her cheeks, the rigid tension in her posture, the way her gaze hovered uncertainly, unable to settle anywhere for too long.
That was more than enough for her to understand.
Written Tycoon's eyes flickered briefly back to Lunar—the completely unaware source of the situation—before a small, knowing smile curved faintly at the corner of her lips.
Ah, so that's how it is.
She stepped a little further into the room, her attention returning to her daughter. "Persian."
The effect was immediate as Persian snapped out of her frozen state as if jolted back into reality. "Y-yes—?"
"I have something I'd like to discuss with you," Written Tycoon said smoothly, her tone calm but carrying an authority that left no room for hesitation. "It would be more appropriate if we spoke somewhere else, so as not to disturb Lunar."
The words landed perfectly. Persian didn't hesitate for even a second. "O-okay—!"
She moved far too quickly, practically launching herself off the bed in a single motion, her usual elegance completely abandoned as she scrambled to recover from the situation.
"Um—good morning—again—and thank you for letting me stay—and—"
Her words tumbled over each other in a rushed, disorganized stream as she turned back toward Lunar, bowing slightly in a way that felt far more hurried than her usual dignified manner. "…I'll see you later!"
Before Lunar could even respond, Persian had already reached the door, grabbing her mother's arm and gently—but firmly pulling her along as if escape was the only option left.
Written Tycoon allowed herself to be guided without resistance, her expression remaining perfectly amused even as she was ushered out.
The door closed softly behind them.
And just like that—
They were gone.
Out in the hallway, Persian continued walking for a few steps, her pace quick and slightly uneven, as if she were trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and the situation she had just escaped from. Only after they had gone far enough did she finally begin to slow, her steps losing that urgency until she eventually came to a complete stop.
Written Tycoon, whose arm was still being held, glanced up at her daughter with quiet amusement, her expression calm and observant as always. She didn't pull away, nor did she interrupt the silence immediately. Instead, she allowed the moment to settle, watching Persian carefully before speaking in the same controlled tone she always carried.
"You have a crush on her, don't you."
Silence followed.
Persian froze completely, her body going still as the words sank in. For a moment, it was as if time itself had paused around her. Then, very slowly, she turned her head, her movements stiff, almost mechanical. "…No—"
The denial came out weak, lacking any real conviction.
She tried again. "…N—" But the rest of the word never came. Her voice faltered, dissolving before it could fully form.
She looked at her mother, and met that infamous all knowing gaze. There was no judgment in it, no teasing, no pressure—just a quiet certainty that made it impossible to hide behind empty words.
Persian held that gaze for a moment longer, her resistance wavering under its weight. Then her shoulders slowly slumped, the tension leaving her all at once as whatever resolve she had tried to muster simply gave way. "…Yes, I do…"
Her voice came out soft and muffled as she leaned her head against her mother's shoulder, the simple act of admitting it seeming to drain what little dignity she had left.
Written Tycoon let out a quiet breath, something faintly amused hidden within it, as her hand lifted and gently rested atop her daughter's head. She gave her a light, affectionate pat, her touch warm and reassuring.
A small smile formed on her face.
It wasn't often she got to see her overgrown baby girl like this. The composed, intelligent, and mature girl she knew so well had unraveled so easily over something as simple and as complicated as a crush. And in that moment, she seemed younger somehow, softer, closer to the child she had once been. It was… refreshing.
I should thank her, Written Tycoon thought quietly to herself.
After all, it wasn't every day that someone managed to bring out a side of her daughter that she had almost forgotten existed.
Back in the room, Lunar remained seated on the bed, still trying to process the whirlwind that had just passed. "…What was that…?" she murmured softly to herself, her head tilting slightly in confusion.
Before she could dwell on it any longer, the door opened again. This time, without a knock.
Lunar didn't even need to look up to know who it was. There was only one person who entered her room like that without hesitation, a quiet privilege that had existed since the very first day she had come to call this place her own.
A familiar presence drifted in—soft, calm, and blatant. "G'day."
Lunar lifted her gaze. "…G'day," she replied gently, her voice clear once more.
Saiya stepped into the room with her usual relaxed but vibrant energy, her soft pink hair seemed a different shade under the light of Lunar's room, it always appeared fuller, more complete. She gave Lunar a brief glance before making her way over and sitting beside her on the bed, her movements casual, almost effortless, as her eyes began to wander around the room.
It didn't take long for her to notice something. "…You haven't packed anything yet," she remarked.
The words landed in Lunar's thoughts. "…Ah."
Her eyes widened slightly as the realization struck all at once.
Tomorrow.
She was leaving tomorrow morning.
"Oh—" She shot up from the bed in a sudden rush, her thoughts scattering as she looked around the room, her gaze darting from one place to another as if searching for a starting point that refused to appear. "I—I need to—wait—where do I even start—"
Saiya watched her quietly for a moment, taking in the sudden movements. Then she let out a soft, amused chuckle. "You're panicking."
"I am not panicking—"
"You are absolutely panicking."
Lunar paused mid-motion, her expression stiffening slightly. "…Okay, maybe a little."
Saiya smiled faintly before standing up, her expression calm and reassuring. "Relax," she said simply. "I'll help."
Without waiting for a reply, she walked over to the wardrobe and reached up with ease, retrieving the luggage bag resting on top—a height Lunar would have needed a chair to reach safely. She brought it down without effort and placed it neatly on the bed before unzipping it.
"Let's start with your clothes," she said, her tone practical and steady.
Lunar nodded quickly, grounding herself again. "Right."
They fell into an easy rhythm after that, moving in quiet sync as they began packing. Lunar opened the wardrobe and started pulling out her neatly arranged outfits one by one, while Saiya took each piece and folded it with practiced motions before placing it carefully into the luggage. Lunar followed along on her side, mirroring the process, and together they worked with a smooth efficiency that made the task feel almost effortless.
The process went far quicker than expected. Before long, the modest amount of clothing had been neatly packed away, leaving the wardrobe looking noticeably emptier than before.
Saiya then crouched slightly and reached down to pull open the drawer beneath. "…Hm." She paused. Because what greeted her inside were Lunar's undergarments.
Before she could even comment on it—SLAM.
The drawer shut instantly.
Lunar stood there with her hand still pressed firmly against it, her eyes wide and her face tinged with a faint but unmistakable shade of red. "I'll fold those myself later," she said quickly, her voice trying and failing to sound completely calm and collected.
Saiya raised an eyebrow slightly. "…We're both uma musumes, you know?"
"I know that!" Lunar replied almost immediately, her flustered tone betraying her. "But it's still embarrassing!" She hesitated for a brief moment before adding, a little more defensively, "…And besides, you're a stallion and I'm a mare!"
Saiya blinked at that, then let out a soft, thoughtful hum. "…I see."
A faint glint of amusement flickered in her eyes as she quietly filed that away. So you do see me as a stallion, good to know.
She raised both hands slightly in a gesture of surrender, her expression calm again. "Alright, alright. I'll leave that to you."
Instead, Saiya reached down and opened the drawer below.
This time, what she found inside was different. These weren't the clothes Lunar currently wore, but older pieces—things she had clearly outgrown over time, left behind as she gradually matured. They were neatly kept despite their age, as if they still held some kind of quiet importance.
Saiya reached in and picked one up.
A small black t-shirt, slightly worn but still in good condition. Across the front, bold white letters stood out clearly—-Silent Sundays.
For a moment, she simply looked at it, then a faint smile formed on her face as the memory surfaced. Turning slightly, she held it up toward Lunar. "…Isn't this the shirt you wore on your first day here?"
Lunar nodded, her expression softening almost immediately as she stepped a little closer. "Yeah," she replied gently. "I keep all the clothes I can't wear anymore in there."
Saiya hummed quietly, her attention drifting back to the drawer as she continued to sift through its contents. Her fingers brushed over fabric after fabric—small shirts, worn pants, faded colors—all belonging to a much younger version of the girl standing beside her now. Each piece carried traces of time, subtle reminders of the timid, uncertain child she had first met and befriended two years ago.
A quiet sense of nostalgia stirred within her. She could almost picture it clearly—the shy Lunar who had struggled to meet her gaze, who had spoken softly and hesitated with every step, so different from the person she had grown into now.
Her hand paused over another shirt before she turned her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. "…Why do you still keep all these?" Saiya asked, her voice softer than before. "You don't really have any use for them anymore, do you?"
Lunar didn't answer right away. Instead, she let out a quiet hum, her gaze drifting toward the drawer—not at the clothes themselves, but at the memories woven into them. "…I guess," she began slowly, her voice gentle, "I keep them as a memento."
She lowered herself to her knees beside Saiya and reached into the drawer, her fingers lightly brushing over the fabric as if reacquainting herself with something familiar.
"Of my momma."
Her fingers moved with quiet familiarity as she sifted through the pile, brushing past layers of fabric until she found what she was looking for, and when she finally pulled it out, she held it carefully in both hands as if it carried more weight than it should have. It was a pair of pajamas—soft, slightly worn, and unmistakably smaller than anything she would wear now—yet even at a glance, it was clear that this was something special to her.
"I used to wear this all the time," Lunar said, a faint smile forming as she lifted it slightly, her voice gentle and filled with quiet fondness. "Even after I started growing, I still tried to fit into it, even though it was already getting too small." A soft, almost embarrassed laugh followed as she added, "…that didn't last very long."
Her fingers traced along the fabric as she spoke, lingering over the worn areas as if each mark held a story, and after a brief pause, she continued, "I woke up one day and there was just… a big hole here," she said, lightly gesturing beneath the armpit, "and that's when I finally gave up and let big sis Oscie convince me to get a new one."
There was warmth in her voice as she spoke, not the loud kind of happiness, but something softer and more personal, the kind that settled quietly in her chest. "This one was a birthday gift from my momma," she went on, her smile deepening just a little as she looked down at it, "and she surprised me with it, so I remember being so excited that I wore it immediately without even thinking."
Her gaze lingered on the pajamas for a moment longer before she added, more softly, "That's… a memory I'll always keep."
Saiya didn't respond right away, instead watching her in silence, taking in the gentle expression on Lunar's face and the way she held the fabric so carefully, as though it were something far more valuable than it appeared. As she stood there, her attention slowly drifted unconsciously, toward the bedside, where a photograph rested in its usual place—a younger Lunar sleeping beside her mother, both of them smiling, their happiness captured in a single moment that time had frozen in place.
Saiya's eyes lingered on that image longer than she intended, and as she looked at it, a quiet thought surfaced in her mind, uninvited and impossible to ignore. She didn't have anything like that with her own mother—no old clothes tied to warm memories, no small keepsakes that carried the same kind of meaning, no photograph that held a moment she could return to whenever she wanted.
Her gaze softened just slightly as the thought settled, but she didn't say anything, choosing instead to remain silent as she looked on, letting the quiet speak for her in a way words never really could.
Lunar's eyes shifted from the pajamas back to Saiya, noticing for the first time that the room had fallen into an unusual, almost heavy silence.
"Saichan…?" Lunar's voice was soft, tentative, cutting gently through the stillness. She tilted her head slightly, concern threading her words. "What's wrong?"