For a while, neither of them spoke.
The shop had finally grown quiet again.
Not peaceful. Just exhausted.
Reva stood near the counter, sorting through scattered fabric while Shura remained seated beside the cracked wall. The Beacon-light filtering through the damaged front window painted long amber streaks across the floorboards.
Her eyes drifted toward him occasionally.
First the silver-threaded coat.
Then the swelling near his mouth.
Shura noticed.
"…Why did you lie earlier?" he asked quietly.
Reva paused. "About what?"
Shura pointed lightly toward the folded silver-threaded coat resting near the counter.
"The Velorin coat."
Understanding crossed her face immediately.
"Oh."
She looked back down at the cloth in her hands.
"I thought it would cause problems for you if the Knight noticed."
"Maybe."
Reva's gaze lingered briefly on the blood near Shura's lip before she looked away again.
"…Go wash your mouth," she said. "I'll prepare medicine."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're stubborn."
Shura blinked once.
Reva pointed toward the deeper corridor leading into the bathhouse.
"Go."
There wasn't much authority in her voice.
Yet somehow, Shura still stood up and obeyed without arguing further.
As he disappeared into the steam-lit hallway, Reva slowly began restoring the shop around herself.
Broken glass.
Collapsed shelves.
Scattered fabric.
The familiar routine steadied her breathing.
Outside, somewhere beyond the narrow streets of Ward Five, a distant train horn echoed softly through the city.
Low. Heavy.
The sound lingered beneath the constant hum of Ossuarium's pipes and machinery.
Reva adjusted one of the fallen shelves back into place before moving toward a cabinet near the wall. After searching through folded stacks, she eventually pulled out a set of travel clothes nearly identical to the ones Shura had chosen earlier.
Practical. Durable. Forgettable.
"…Predictable," she muttered under her breath.
As she returned toward the counter, something metallic clicked softly beneath her boot.
Reva stopped.
The tin coin Esdras had left behind rested near the broken glass.
She bent down and picked it up carefully.
The moment she saw the engraving, her expression shifted.
"…One Tin?"
She turned the coin slowly between her fingers.
"That's worth a hundred Copp…"
A small folded paper rested beneath it.
Reva stared at it for a second before carefully unfolding the note.
Her brows lifted slightly.
Then, unexpectedly, she laughed once through her nose.
"…Of course."
By the time Shura finally returned, faint steam still clung to his dark hair. His face looked cleaner now, though the bruise along his jaw.
His steps slowed after noticing the folded clothes waiting near the counter.
"…You already chose?"
"You were going to pick the same thing anyway," Reva replied casually.
Shura considered arguing.
Then decided she was probably right.
A few minutes later, they sat across from one another near the repaired counter.
Reva carried a small metal container filled with medicinal paste. A sharp mineral smell spread through the air immediately.
Shura frowned slightly.
"…That smells terrible."
"It works."
"That doesn't solve the first problem."
"For medicine, it does."
Something close to a laugh escaped Shura's nose.
Not fully laughter. But close enough.
Reva dipped two fingers into the paste before gesturing toward the chair properly this time.
"Sit still."
Shura obeyed more quietly now.
The cold paste touched the bruise beneath cheek.
He flinched immediately.
Reva sighed.
"You fought someone using unstable Viora and thought this would be the painful part?"
"…I changed my mind."
"You're surviving the next fight alone, then."
The bandages wrapped firmly around his side while silence settled between them again.
Not awkward this time. Just tired.
As Reva tied the final knot, her eyes drifted toward the ticket partially visible near Shura's belongings.
"…You're heading toward Alric Mountain?" she asked casually.
Shura's expression remained calm.
"Not immediately."
"I went there once," Reva said while cleaning her hands with a cloth. "For a design exhibition between scholars."
Shura tilted his head slightly.
"You mean you went there to examine something unusual."
A faint smile appeared on her face.
"…That too."
But the smile didn't last long.
Her fingers slowed against the cloth.
For a few seconds, her attention drifted toward the shattered section of the shop floor.
Toward the place where the corrupted man had collapsed earlier.
The room grew quieter again.
"You keep avoiding looking over there," Reva said eventually.
Shura glanced briefly toward the damaged floorboards.
"…Not really."
Reva noticed how quickly he looked away again.
"You notice people too much," she said softly.
Shura looked back at her.
"I thought you only cared about clothes."
"I do."
Then after a brief pause:
"But people wear their lives the same way."
That answer actually made Shura think for a second.
Reva folded the cleaning cloth slowly before studying him again.
"When you first walked in," she admitted, "I thought you were some cold noble here to insult my work."
Shura leaned back slightly in the chair.
"Decide first."
"What?"
"Am I strange or rude?"
Reva laughed quietly this time.
"…Both."
The atmosphere finally loosened a little.
Shura's eyes drifted toward the folded silver-threaded coat resting near the edge of the counter.
After a moment, he spoke quietly.
The quiet settled comfortably between them again.
For the first time since entering the shop, Shura no longer felt like he was only passing through it.
"…Can you keep it here for a while?"
Reva blinked once.
"The coat?"
"…What?"
"I don't need it right now."
Her hands hesitated above the counter.
"You can't just leave something like this behind."
"It's fine."
"No, it's not."
She looked genuinely troubled now.
"This coat alone could create problems if someone recognizes it."
"Then hide it."
Reva opened her mouth again, then stopped.
The hesitation returned several times, visible in the way her fingers tightened against the cloth.
"…Are you sure?"
Shura stood up slowly.
"Yes."
For a brief moment, Reva looked like she wanted to refuse entirely.
But Shura had already begun gathering the rest of his belongings.
The mask attached to his belt.
The Vanguard badge.
The remaining coins.
Only the silver-threaded coat remained behind.
Reva stared at it silently.
Then finally pulled it carefully closer to herself.
Not accepting it.
Just agreeing to protect it.
Shura adjusted the sleeve of his new travel clothes before moving toward the exit.
"Aren't you going to the hospital?" Reva asked suddenly.
Shura paused near the doorway.
"…I'll be fine , thanks for Medicine."
For the first time since entering the shop, exhaustion had finally settled properly into his body.
The bruises.
The smoke.
The fight.
The strange conversation with Esdras.
Everything felt heavier now that it was over.
So instead of heading toward Ward Five's library district, Shura stepped out into the cold Beacon-lit streets and turned toward the distant direction of his inn.