The morning sun was just starting to warm the glass of the window, casting long, gentle streaks across the pale wall I was leaning against. Naiya was probably still asleep, curled up on the warm spot of the duvet—the little tyrant. I adjusted the brim of my cap, pushing my white hair back slightly where it always seemed to escape. A quick, involuntary stretch made the fabric of my shirt pull tight across my chest, a familiar, slightly uncomfortable tightness that always accompanied these quiet moments before the day really began.

Elara stood near a large window, dressed in her usual practical, dark workout gear: a slightly damp-looking black T-shirt clinging to her form, tight black athletic shorts with white stripes, and a black baseball cap obscuring some of her silver-white hair. Her emerald eyes, usually sharp with focus, held a soft, almost hazy look as she gazed outward, though her attention seemed internal. A faint blush dusted her pale cheeks, perhaps from the early morning warmth or just residual tiredness.

"Another day, huh?" The words were low, just above a murmur, tasting faintly of sleep and quiet resolve. It’s funny how the world keeps spinning, even when you feel like you’ve paused everything just for yourself.

She slowly raised her right arm, bending it to rest her hand on the back of her head, stretching her side slightly. The movement was languid, almost feline. She wasn't posing for anyone; it was just a way to feel the stretch in her muscles after waking up. Her gaze flickered briefly toward the unseen viewer, a slight tilt to her head, analytical yet inviting.