By the end of the day, everyone was pretending.
Pretending the morning had helped.
Pretending the dojo had stabilized something.
Pretending nobody was replaying yesterday in their head on an endless loop.
The Sanctuary itself seemed quieter than usual, as if the building had learned to lower its voice around damaged people.
Night settled slowly over the mountains.
Cold air.
Wet stone.
Soft amber lights glowing behind the windows.
Outside the main entrance, the four of them stood beneath the covered awning while rain drifted lightly through the darkness beyond the steps.
Ishtar lit the cigarette first.
Then another for Mia.
No comment.
Just the silent offering.
Mia hesitated for half a second before accepting it.
Her fingers brushed briefly against Ishtar's.
Both noticed.
Neither reacted.
Aglaë sat on the low stone railing nearby wrapped in an oversized hoodie that made her look even smaller than usual. She held her cigarette awkwardly, like someone who smoked emotionally rather than habitually.
Octave stood slightly apart from the group with the elegant exhaustion of a man who deeply resented having become attached to people.
Smoke curled upward into the damp night air.
Nobody spoke for a while.
And honestly?
It was nice.
No trauma processing.
No psychological analysis.
No "systems."
Just four exhausted idiots slowly poisoning themselves outside a hidden mountain sanctuary run by a telepath and an AI. Humanity always finds such inspiring ways to relax.
Mia leaned lightly against one of the stone pillars near the entrance.
The cold helped.
Grounded her.
She watched the rain silently while the cigarette burned between her fingers.
Then—
unexpectedly—
Aglaë laughed quietly to herself.
The others looked toward her.
"What?" Ishtar asked.
Aglaë shook her head, smiling faintly.
"It's just…"
She glanced toward Mia.
"…a few months ago I was watching her on giant screens in sold-out arenas."
Mia visibly tensed already.
Too late.
"And now she's smoking outside in Ludwig's hoodie looking like she might stab capitalism itself."
Octave snorted softly before he could stop himself.
Even Mia's mouth twitched faintly.
"Aesthetic evolution," Ishtar declared gravely.
"Clinical collapse," Octave corrected.
"Rude."
"Accurate."
Aglaë laughed again.
Small sound.
Warm.
The tension loosened a little more.
Mia noticed something strange then.
She liked this.
Not the cigarette.
Not the conversation.
The simplicity.
Nobody needed her to become Alice here.
Nobody needed perfection.
Nobody needed the mask.
The realization hurt more than expected.
Ishtar leaned back against the wall beside her.
Close.
But careful now.
Every movement between them carried awareness after the dojo.
"You're quieter than usual," Ishtar murmured.
Mia exhaled smoke slowly.
"I'm trying to avoid psychologically destroying the furniture tonight."
"Appreciated."
A beat.
Then Ishtar added more softly:
"You stayed present earlier."
Mia looked toward her briefly.
The compliment unsettled her more than flirting would have.
"…Barely."
"Still counts."
Silence again.
Rain falling softly beyond the lights.
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled quietly through the mountains.
Then Octave sighed dramatically.
"I need alcohol before this place turns all of us emotionally sincere."
Aglaë blinked.
"You drink?"
Octave looked personally offended.
"I'm rich and psychologically unstable. Obviously I drink."
That actually got a real laugh out of Mia.
Short.
Sharp.
Real.
Everyone noticed.
Especially her.
Octave pointed toward her immediately.
"There. That sound. More of that. Less near-murder."
Mia rolled her eyes faintly.
Progress.
Tiny progress.
Ishtar took another drag from her cigarette before glancing toward the parking area.
"There's a pub down the road."
Aglaë looked horrified instantly.
"A real pub?"
"No," Octave deadpanned. "A conceptual pub. Very philosophical."
Aglaë ignored him completely and looked at Mia instead.
"You think that's a good idea?"
Probably not.
Everyone knew it.
Which was exactly why the idea suddenly felt appealing.
Something normal.
Something stupid.
Something not centered around Mia's fractured mind for one evening.
Mia looked toward the rain.
Toward the road beyond the Sanctuary gates.
Then back at them.
"…We'd probably survive."
Octave tilted his head thoughtfully.
"Statistically unclear."
Ishtar grinned.
"That's basically a yes."
Aglaë still looked uncertain.
But also curious.
Which, for Aglaë, was already halfway to disaster.
Octave pushed himself away from the wall.
"Well then," he announced. "Let us make irresponsible decisions while we still possess plausible deniability."
Mia narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Does Ludwig even let you drive?"
Octave smiled slowly.
"No."
A pause.
"…That sounds like a problem."
"It sounds like an opportunity."
Five minutes later they were standing in the Sanctuary garage staring at one of Ludwig's old black SUVs.
Aglaë looked increasingly nervous.
"This feels illegal."
"It is illegal," Octave replied while searching for the keys. "But emotionally beneficial."
"Those are not equivalent concepts."
"Tonight they are."
Mia leaned against the vehicle watching them quietly.
And for the first time in days—
the noise inside her head felt distant.
Not gone.
Never gone.
Just quieter.
Enough to breathe.
Enough to want one stupid night pretending they were normal people.
Which, in hindsight, should probably have worried them more.