First light of dawn began to rise as wind pressed against the side of the house in uneven gusts, slipping through the cracks of the frame until it found the open window and pushed it wider with a long, complaining creak. The curtain lifted and fell in slow, restless breaths. Luz lay tangled in her blankets, turned halfway onto her side, her face drawn tight even in sleep as her breathing came heavier than it should have. The sound of the window didn't wake her. What stirred instead was the memory still clinging to her, replaying with a clarity that refused to fade.
The flap of canvas had rustled when the portal door swung open inside Eda's tent, letting in a draft that carried the faint scent of something wild and unfamiliar. Owlbert hopped through first, steady despite the weight of the sack clenched in his beak, his small body bobbing with each step as he moved deeper inside. Luz stumbled in right behind him, nearly tripping over the threshold as she tried to keep up.
"Stop adorably hopping away, you... Huh?"
Her voice had started out sharp, playful frustration pushing her forward, but it fell apart the moment she actually looked up and took in where she was standing. The inside of the tent gave way to something far larger than it should have been, the space opening into a crooked living room that felt stitched together from pieces that didn't quite belong to the same place. Floorboards slanted at odd angles, mismatched furniture crowded the room, and shadows stretched in corners where the light didn't seem to settle properly.
Eda stood ahead of her, already turned back with an easy confidence, as if none of it required explanation. She snapped her fingers once, the sound sharp and deliberate in the strange quiet.
"Welcome to..."
The pause lingered just long enough for Luz to lean forward without realizing it, her eyes still searching every crooked line and unfamiliar shape around her.
"...the Owl House."
The words settled into the space as they belonged there. Luz's breath caught, the weight of it all finally landing at once, and the quiet gasp that slipped out of her was the only response she could manage as she stood frozen in the doorway, still trying to understand how any of this could be real.
Sora slept on his back, one arm resting loosely across his stomach, the steady rise and fall of his breathing untouched by the wind that moved faintly through the room. The quiet around him held for a time, broken only by the distant creak of wood and the soft shift of fabric, until the stillness gave way to the memories threading through his sleep.
He stood again before the others, the space between them filled with the weight of something already decided. His fingers curled slightly at his side before he turned toward them, the small smile he offered carrying more gratitude than certainty. "My whole journey began the day I lost her."
His hand rose to his chest, pressing there as if the motion alone could steady something deeper than breath. "And every time I find her... she slips away again. I thought we'd finally be together. But she's out there, alone. Not for one more second."
The air had felt different after that, quieter, as though everyone present understood there wasn't anything left to argue. Riku shifted his stance just enough to meet his gaze, holding it for a brief second before turning toward the King. "His heart and his mind are made up. Now, believe in him," Riku met Sora's gaze briefly before looking back at Mickey.
Mickey's expression tightened, the hesitation clear even before he spoke, his shoulders lowering with a slow breath. He had seen this before, the way Sora chose a path and walked it without turning back, and the memory of it seemed to settle his doubt more than any words could. "Yeah…" he said at last, the resistance giving way as he straightened. His eyes lifted again, softer now. "Safe journey, Sora."
"Thank you," Sora nodded once in gratitude before turning away from the group.
The memory shifted without warning, the ground beneath him giving way to the uneven boards and strange angles of a place he still hadn't fully understood. His hand was still outstretched, fingers curled around Luz's as she steadied herself, the momentum of her near fall lingering in the way she leaned forward before catching herself. Then she pulled back all at once, her hand slipping free as her words rushed out ahead of her breath. "Oh, um, yeah! Um-hm, thank you for NOT letting me plummet to my death,"
Sora's shoulders loosened at that, the tension of the moment breaking as he let out a small laugh, tilting his head just enough to meet her eyes again. "You'reee welcome,"
The room didn't stay quiet long. Eda moved past them with the confidence of someone who had no reason to pause, stepping up onto the table with a quick, practiced motion. The wood creaked under her weight, but she didn't seem to notice, lifting her chin as though the space belonged entirely to her. "I'm Eda the Owl Lady. The most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles!"
Luz's attention snapped upward immediately, her earlier nerves replaced by something brighter as she stared up at her. "A witch?"
Sora followed her gaze, his expression settling into something calmer, less surprised, but no less attentive. "Huh."
The shift into battle came just as quickly as everything else had; the ground beneath them was no longer steady but scarred and uneven, marked by the force of what had already been unleashed. Warden Wrath loomed ahead, his presence pressing against the space with a weight that demanded response. Sora stepped forward without hesitation, his grip tightening as he called out, "Flare Force!"
Light gathered around him in an instant, sixteen points of energy forming into rockets that hovered for only a heartbeat before igniting with sharp bursts. They circled once, the motion precise, before angling downward toward their target. Heat and sound filled the air as they launched.
Beside him, Luz moved at the same moment, her hand slipping into his to take the firecracker he had caught earlier. She lit it again, the spark catching quickly before she sent it forward with a flick of her arm, the small projectile cutting through the air after the others.
They leaned forward together, their timing aligned without needing to be spoken. "NOW eat this, sucka!"
The rockets struck first, each impact driving Warden Wrath into the ground with explosive force, the bursts stacking one after another until the ground itself seemed to shudder beneath it. He staggered under the barrage, the dark energy around him breaking apart in uneven flashes.
Then the firecracker hit.
Its explosion cut through what remained, the added force collapsing the last of his resistance. The energy surrounding him flickered once more before failing completely, leaving his form to fall hard against the ground.
Luz jolted awake, her eyes adjusting not to the familiar softness of painted walls but to uneven stone stretching upward around her. The surface was rough and imperfect, faint cracks tracing through it as though the room had been shaped over time rather than built all at once. Morning light poured in through the tall arched window at the far wall, slipping past loosely hanging purple curtains that didn't quite meet in the middle. They swayed faintly, letting the light spill across the floor in wide, uneven bands.
She pushed herself upright on the mattress, the blanket slipping down into a loose heap around her legs. The bed itself was little more than a cushion laid over a rectangular rug, the pillows scattered where they had fallen during the night. Nearby, King remained curled beneath the edge of the blanket, small and still, his breathing steady as he slept on.
The room around her felt crowded without being organized. A large wooden chest sat along the left wall, its heavy metal bands catching the light, the oversized lock hanging at the front like it guarded something far more important than clothing or trinkets. Books leaned against one another in uneven stacks nearby, some half-open as if abandoned mid-thought, and beside them rested a handheld gaming device that looked out of place against the older textures of wood and stone. Photographs had been set down wherever space allowed, some framed, others propped up, while posters and bits of artwork clung to the walls without any clear arrangement.
Overhead, strands of small yellow lights crossed the ceiling, their glow still faintly visible despite the daylight. Ropes hung down among them, some tied off, others holding strange objects in place—hooks, tools, things Luz didn't yet have names for. Near the window, a round wooden table held a ceramic vase filled with thin, dry branches, and farther to the right, a draped shape suggested furniture left unused or waiting.
Luz drew in a breath, looking around as the weight of it settled in. Her hands pressed into the mattress as she leaned forward slightly, her voice slipping out before she could stop it. "It wasn't a dream!"
She was already moving by the time the words finished, crossing the short distance to the window and pushing it open wider. The air that rushed in carried something unfamiliar, sharper and wilder than anything she had known before. She leaned out just enough to take it in, her expression shifting as she spoke again, half in awe and half in disbelief. "Good morning, terrifying fantasy world."
Below, the water stretched out in a wide expanse, and from its surface something enormous rose, its shape breaking through with a slow, deliberate motion. A massive sea creature lifted its head above the waves, one broad appendage rising in what could only be described as a wave. Luz blinked, frozen for a second, as the creature lingered just long enough to complete the gesture before sinking back beneath the surface, leaving only ripples behind.
She stood there a moment longer, then turned away, her steps light as she crossed back toward the mattress. King hadn't moved, still curled beneath the blanket, and she crouched beside him without hesitation, slipping her hands under his small form and lifting him carefully. "Good morning, you little cutie‐pie."
She pressed a quick series of kisses against the top of his head, her grip tightening just enough to pull him closer as he stirred awake, his ears twitching before his eyes snapped open.
"I am not your cutie‐pie!" he protested, his voice sharp despite the lingering haze of sleep.
"Yes, you are."
She hugged him once more, holding him there for a second before setting him back down onto the mattress, tucking the blanket loosely around him as she let go. King settled back into place with a small exhale, his expression shifting into something quieter as he looked up at her.
"I know."
Sora's eyes opened to a ceiling he still hadn't fully gotten used to, the lines of it uneven, the space carrying a quiet that felt different from any room he had slept in before. For a moment, he stayed where he was, staring upward as the last traces of sleep faded, then he drew in a breath and let it out slowly.
He stretched without thinking, arms reaching up and back until his shoulders pulled tight, his back arching as he worked the stiffness out of his body. The motion traveled through him in a slow wave, down through his legs as he shifted and rolled his shoulders once more before letting his arms fall back to his sides.
The floor beneath his feet was cool when he stood, the texture grounding him as he reached for his clothes. The black tank top and sweatpants he had slept in were pulled away without much thought, set aside as he moved through the familiar routine. Piece by piece, he slipped back into his usual attire, the weight of it settling naturally against him as though it belonged there more than anything else he could wear.
He adjusted the fit at his shoulders, tugged once at the edges of his jacket, and let his hands drop as he exhaled again, quieter this time. "Ok, time to greet the day."
The bathroom door creaked as Luz pulled it open, already dressed and moving with a kind of restless energy that hadn't quite settled into anything steady yet. The moment the gap widened, a flurry of motion burst outward—several owls rushing past her in a sudden wave of feathers and wings, their hoots filling the hallway as they scattered. Luz froze just long enough to watch them go, her eyes following their flight until the last one disappeared from view.
She stepped inside, turning as she did so that she was walking backward into the room, still glancing over her shoulder, when a voice cut through the quiet.
"Hi, Luz!"
The sound hit her before the sight of him did. She yelped, spinning on instinct, and her arm snapped forward in a sharp, practiced motion. Her hand connected cleanly with Hooty's face in a swift karate chop that echoed lightly against the walls.
"Ow! I'm just wishing you a good morning." Hooty recoiled, his long body pulling back through the doorway toward the front of the house as he retreated. "Jeez! Hoot! Ow!"
Luz winced immediately, her shoulders tightening as the adrenaline drained just as quickly as it had come. "Sorry, Hooty." She exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck before turning toward the counter.
Her Azura book rested there where she had left it, its cover worn from use. She picked it up without hesitation and flipped it open, landing on a familiar page that showed a headshot of Azura herself. Luz lifted the book up in front of the mirror, angling it so the reflection held both the illustration and her own face side by side. "This is it, old girl. Your first day on the Boiling Isles, as a Witch Apprentice." Her free hand curled into a fist, and she punched the air with a small burst of excitement. "Hyah!"
She crossed the room in a few quick steps and reached for the closet door, pulling it open while squeezing her eyes shut tight, one hand raised to cover them as if that might somehow influence what waited inside. "Please have witchy clothes. Please have witchy clothes. Please have witchy clothes." The words came out in a steady rhythm as she stood there, holding the moment in place before finally lowering her hand and opening her eyes.
The closet was filled with robes, hats, fabrics layered and hanging in a way that felt almost excessive, every piece matching the image she had been hoping for. Luz's reaction came instantly, her feet stomping against the floor in rapid, excited steps as she bounced in place. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" The excitement broke into a full shout that echoed off the stone walls as she let it out.
Not long after, she stood at the bottom of the staircase, transformed into something that perfectly matched her expectations. The robe hung loosely around her, a hat perched atop her head, and a freshly written name tag stuck to her chest, reading "Witch Apprentice Luz." She shifted her weight from foot to foot, unable to stay still, a small squeal escaping her as she looked down at herself.
Somewhere nearby, a toilet flushed.
A shadow stretched along the wall before Eda stepped into view, still dressed in her nightwear, her posture loose with sleep as she moved forward with a tired yawn. "Hmm?"
Luz straightened immediately, her hands coming to her sides as though she were presenting herself for inspection. "Good morning, Eda the Owl Lady. I am ready for my first day of Witch Apprenticeship."
Eda blinked at her, her expression barely changing as she reached up and shook her hair out, dislodging a few spiders that fell away without ceremony. She plucked another from her ear and flicked it aside before looking back at Luz. "Ugh! Who are you, again?"
The words landed without warning. Luz's face tightened, the confidence draining as quickly as it had formed. "Huh?" Her eyes dropped, catching sight of her name tag as it peeled loose from her robe and slipped down to the floor, landing flat against the wood as she stared at it in silence.
Meanwhile, Sora, after finishing up getting ready for the day, found his way into the kitchen.
The kitchen spreads wide beneath low wooden beams, its structure built more like a lived-in workshop than a carefully arranged home. At its center sits a heavy wooden table with thick legs, worn smooth along the edges from repeated use, a small cushioned stool tucked beneath one side as if someone had just stepped away. The floorboards beneath it run long and uneven, their reddish tone dulled in places where footsteps have passed most often.
Along the back wall, a large stone hearth dominates the room, its arch rising over a black iron stove that looks both old and sturdy enough to outlast everything around it. Pots hang above and around it, their surfaces darkened from heat and time, while a kettle rests on the stovetop beside a copper pot that still catches the light. A few pieces of chopped wood are stacked neatly at the base, ready to be fed into the fire when needed.
Shelves run along the upper walls, crowded with objects that feel collected rather than chosen. Glass jars, bottles, and sacks sit side by side with stranger items—bones, herbs hanging to dry, and containers labeled in uneven handwriting. A bag marked "flour" rests among them, though it blends in with everything else that looks only half ordinary. The arrangement gives no clear sense of order, but nothing seems misplaced.
To the right, a pale yellow refrigerator stands out against the wood and stone, its surface slightly worn, decorated with a few small magnets. Nearby cabinets with simple handles line the wall, their doors slightly uneven, suggesting frequent use rather than careful maintenance. A narrow door sits between hanging bundles of herbs and strings of vegetables, leading deeper into the house.
He crossed to the table and pulled out a chair, the legs scraping softly against the floor before he sat. For a moment, he rested his elbows lightly against the surface, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device. It lit faintly in his hand as he angled it toward himself, his eyes scanning through lines of information that shifted at the slightest movement of his thumb. Lists of dishes scrolled past, each one paired with ingredients and simple instructions, the glow reflecting faintly in his eyes as he searched.
He paused, then nodded to himself as something caught his attention. "Hmm... Aha. Here it is."
The device dimmed as he lowered it, his focus shifting entirely to the space in front of him. He lifted one hand, fingers spreading slightly before tightening again, and with a quiet flicker of light, ingredients began to form. One by one, they appeared in his grasp and were set down onto the table—fresh, solid, as though they had always been there. He arranged them without thinking, grouping them by use, his movements steady and practiced.
Once everything was in place, he brought his hands together, folding his fingers inward before rolling his wrists and cracking them in a slow, deliberate motion. The sound echoed lightly in the quiet room, a small preparation before the work began. He glanced over what he had gathered, a faint smile settling in as he spoke to himself. "I'm sure they'll love this. Time to put Little Chef's training to the test."
Luz moved quickly to keep pace beside Eda as they started down the staircase, the wood creaking faintly under their steps. She leaned slightly forward as she spoke, trying to catch Eda's attention before the older witch drifted too far ahead. "Remember me? Luz? We went to get King's crown at the Conformatorium and saw Sora defeat the evil warden together? Yesterday?"
Eda barely slowed, one hand trailing along the railing as she yawned again, her posture still loose with sleep. She rubbed at one eye with the heel of her palm, blinking as if trying to bring the memory into focus. "Oh, right. It's WAY too early in the-"
Her voice cut off as a sound rose from below, something shifting or clattering faintly from below. Both of them paused mid-step, the staircase holding them suspended between floors as the noise echoed again.
Luz straightened, her attention snapping downward, her earlier urgency replaced by alert curiosity. "What was that?"
Eda tilted her head slightly, listening for a moment before pushing herself upright again, the last trace of drowsiness slipping away. "Not sure, but that came from the kitchen, let's find out."
She stepped forward first, continuing down the stairs with more purpose now, and Luz followed close behind as the sound below settled into an uneasy quiet.
Back in the kitchen, the oven gave off a steady warmth that spread through the kitchen, carrying with it the first real hints of whatever Sora had begun preparing. He stood close to it, one hand adjusting the position of a pan while the other hovered over the ingredients laid out nearby, moving between them with quiet certainty. The faint sizzle of heat meeting oil filled the space in short bursts, blending with the scent already drifting beyond the room.
"Alright." The word left him under his breath as he set another piece into place, his focus narrowing on the rhythm of the work.
A small shape appeared at the edge of the counter, drawn in by the smell before anything else. King pulled himself up just enough to peer over, his nose twitching as he leaned forward, taking in the scent with growing interest. "Wow. What kind of food is this?" he asked, his voice softer now, curiosity replacing his usual edge.
Sora glanced over at him briefly, a hint of a smile forming as he continued working. "Only some of the most delicious foods you all will get to eat."
That was enough. King shifted his weight and hopped fully onto the counter, inching closer to the nearest ingredient with cautious excitement, his eyes fixed on it as if it might disappear. He reached out, just as Sora turned and caught him mid-motion, lifting him away from the surface before he could get any closer.
"King. Wait till I actually cook the food."
King sagged slightly in his grip, his ears drooping as he looked back toward the counter. "Awww, but King wants to taste."
Sora adjusted his grip, keeping him steady as he turned back toward the stove. "Patience."
The word settled there, simple and final, as he set King down just far enough from the ingredients to keep him out of reach. The cooking continued without pause, the smell growing richer as the heat worked through everything Sora had prepared.
Footsteps rushed in from the hallway, quick and uneven, followed by the sound of movement crossing into the kitchen. Luz appeared first, her momentum carrying her a step too far before she stopped, her eyes widening as the scent hit her fully. Eda followed just behind, her pace slower but no less deliberate, her gaze sweeping across the room before settling on the table and the food taking shape there.
Eda's reaction came out before she could filter it. "What is this?"
Sora turned toward her, King still held in one arm, the other hand resting lightly against the edge of the counter. "Good Morning, Eda. I wanted to show my appreciation for letting me stay here by preparing everyone breakfast."
Eda didn't answer right away. She stepped further into the room instead, drawn closer to the table as Luz followed at her side, both of them taking in the arrangement of ingredients and the progress already made. The unfamiliar shapes and colors, the way everything had been set out with purpose, held their attention longer than expected.
"Wow. What kind of food is this?" Eda asked, her tone shifting as she leaned slightly closer, studying what she could without touching it.
Sora's expression settled into something more assured as he faced them fully. "I'm glad you asked."
Sora shifted his grip slightly on King before setting him down again on the counter, this time with a careful distance between him and the ingredients. The pan behind him gave a soft hiss as heat continued to build, and he turned back to it briefly, adjusting the position before speaking, his voice steady as he gestured toward the spread laid out across the table.
"Umeboshi Onigiri, poached salmon, tamagoyaki, and plain miso soup with Green Scallions… all part of Choushoku."
The unfamiliar words settled into the room, and Eda's expression tightened as she tried to follow them, her brow furrowing as she repeated the last one under her breath, slower this time as if that might make it clearer. "Cho…shoku?" she said, the syllables uneven as she tested them.
Luz's reaction came immediately, her attention snapping fully toward Sora as she stepped closer to the table, her earlier excitement returning in a rush. She leaned forward, eyes moving quickly over each dish as she spoke, her words coming faster now that she recognized something. "Choushoku is breakfast—from the Human Realm. It's from a country called Japan."
Her hand hovered over the table as she continued, pointing lightly without touching anything, connecting each name to what she saw before her. "Umeboshi Onigiri is rice with pickled plums inside, tamagoyaki is like a rolled egg omelet, and miso soup is made from fermented soybean paste with green onions—this is real, like actual real!"
Eda straightened slightly, the explanation settling into something simpler in her mind as she looked back at the food. "So… human food," she said, the conclusion coming easily now, even if the details didn't stick.
King's ears perked up at that, his earlier disappointment replaced by a new kind of curiosity as he leaned forward again, careful this time not to get too close. "Human food..." he muttered.
Eda crossed her arms loosely, her gaze still fixed on the dishes as she considered them. "I've had food from the Human Realm before," she muttered, glancing briefly toward Luz, "but nothing like this."
Luz nodded quickly, her attention still locked on everything Sora had prepared. "I've only seen food like this on TV," she admitted, her voice softening slightly as the realization settled in. "But I've never actually tried it."
She looked up at Sora then, the question forming almost immediately. "Wait—are you really cooking all of this?"
Sora met her gaze with a small, easy smile, turning back toward the stove as he reached for the next step without hesitation. "Yes, give me a few, and it'll be ready."
The kitchen settled into a steady rhythm as Sora moved from one task to the next, the earlier stillness replaced by the soft, continuous sounds of preparation. Water ran into a bowl as he poured the rice in, his hand dipping into it as he swirled the grains gently. The liquid clouded almost immediately, turning pale as the starch lifted away. He drained it and repeated the motion again, careful and deliberate, until the water ran clear and the grains shifted cleanly beneath his fingers.
He left the rice to rest in fresh water, setting it aside while he reached for the next step. A small plum sat waiting, and he split it open with practiced ease, removing the hard center before pressing the flesh down into a coarse paste. The scent of it was sharp, almost bracing, and he worked it slowly until it held together.
By the time the rice had finished soaking and steaming, he returned to it, his hands lightly dampened, before rubbing a thin layer of salt across his palms. He scooped a portion of the hot rice, turning it once to shape it before pressing a small hollow into the center. The plum paste settled inside, and he folded the rice over it, sealing it within. His hands formed a loose angle, guiding the shape as he pressed and rotated it, careful not to apply too much force. The triangle took form gradually, clean and even, and he set it aside before repeating the process, lining them neatly across the surface.
Behind him, the salmon waited. He lifted the fillet and dried it thoroughly, pressing out the moisture before lightly seasoning it. A small splash of sake followed, just enough to coat it, and he let it rest for a moment before wiping it clean again. The pan beside him filled with liquid—water, sake, mirin, soy—coming together in a shallow simmer that barely disturbed the surface. He lowered the salmon into it with care, keeping the heat steady so the liquid trembled only at the edges.
He leaned slightly over the pan, spooning the warm broth over the fish, watching as the color began to change. The lid settled over it, holding the heat in as the gentle cooking continued, the scent shifting into something softer, richer.
At the counter, eggs were cracked cleanly into a bowl. Sora added the measured ingredients and reached for a pair of chopsticks, whisking with a controlled motion that kept the mixture smooth, the liquid blending without froth. The pan heated slowly, and a thin layer of oil spread across its surface before he poured the first layer in. It spread thin, setting just enough before he rolled it forward into itself, forming the base. He repeated the process with steady timing, lifting and layering, each addition connecting seamlessly to the last until the roll thickened into a uniform shape.
Nearby, a small pot warmed with dashi, the surface steaming gently before he cut the heat entirely. He worked the miso paste into a ladle, slowly dissolving it in the hot liquid before stirring it back into the pot, careful to keep the heat from returning. The scent deepened immediately, subtle but distinct.
The room is now filled with overlapping aromas—rice, broth, eggs, fish—each settling into the space without overpowering the others. Sora moved between them without pause, adjusting, turning, finishing each piece in turn. By the time the salmon reached the right color, he lifted it from the liquid, setting it aside while the rest came together.
The last of the dishes came together under Sora's hands, each one finished with the same quiet care as the first. He moved them from the counters to the table one by one, arranging them with a sense of balance that felt natural rather than planned. The triangular onigiri sat neatly beside slices of tamagoyaki, the salmon placed with space enough for its color to stand out, and the bowls of miso soup released soft curls of steam that drifted upward into the warm air.
By the time he stepped back, the table no longer looked like part of the kitchen—it had become something else entirely, a gathering point that pulled the eye and held it there. The scent alone settled into the room, steady and layered, drawing Luz, Eda, and King closer without needing to ask.
Sora rested his hands lightly against the edge of the table, glancing between them before giving a small nod. "Dig in."
Luz didn't hesitate. She reached forward first, her movements quick but careful as she picked up a piece and brought it to her mouth. The reaction came before she could even finish chewing, her eyes closing slightly as she leaned into the taste. "Mmmmm... Sho good. Anime doeshn't lie."
That was all it took. Eda and King exchanged a brief look before reaching for the silverware laid out nearby, each selecting something different as they leaned in. For a moment, the room quieted again, the only sounds were the soft clink of utensils and the faint shift of movement as they tasted.
Then they stopped.
It lasted only a second, but long enough for the change to show. Their eyes widened almost at the same time, the realization settling in as the flavor caught up with them. Luz straightened slightly where she stood, watching them, while Sora remained still beside the table, his attention fixed on their reaction without interrupting it.
The pause broke all at once.
Eda and King leaned forward again, faster this time, their earlier restraint gone as they began eating in earnest, barely slowing between bites. Their movements grew less measured, focused entirely on the food in front of them as they worked through it piece by piece.
Eda spoke first, her words pushing through a mouthful she hadn't quite finished, her expression brightening as she went. "Hot dang, thish ish sho delishioush!"
King didn't wait long to add his own, his voice just as full, just as unrestrained. "Sho yummy!"
They reached for their drinks without breaking pace, each taking a quick swallow before continuing, the brief pause only giving them enough time to breathe. Eda set her cup down with a small tap against the table, turning toward Sora as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
"My compliments to the chef! Thanks so much, kid.~"
Sora's response came with a quiet ease, the small smile returning as he nodded once. "You're welcome."
They didn't slow down after that. Eda and King continued eating with the same enthusiasm, the table gradually shifting from full to scattered as the meal disappeared. Across from them, Luz glanced toward Sora, her earlier excitement settling into something softer as their eyes met for a moment. The exchange passed without words, both of them smiling lightly before turning back to the table as the morning carried on.