The late afternoon sun spilled through the glass roof of the shopping district, bathing everything in soft gold. It was the kind of calm that felt unreal to women who had survived burning cities and biological nightmares.

Claire Redfield was the first to break the peace.

“I’m just saying,” she said, arms already full of shopping bags, “if we survived Raccoon City, Rockfort Island, and literal monsters, I think we deserve overpriced coffee and clothes we don’t need.”

She flashed a grin that dared anyone to argue.

Jill Valentine adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag and sighed—though the corner of her mouth twitched. “I agreed to one afternoon,” she replied. “Somehow that turned into four stores, two cafés, and whatever this is.”

“This,” Claire said proudly, lifting a bag, “is self-care.”

Walking slightly behind them, Rebecca Chambers was quietly fascinated by a display window, eyes lighting up the way they rarely did on missions. “These jackets are actually lined with antibacterial fabric,” she murmured. “That’s… surprisingly practical.”

Jill blinked. “You’re analyzing the clothes.”

“I can’t turn it off,” Rebecca said sheepishly.

They moved together easily—no formations, no hand signals, no scanning rooftops. Just laughter, teasing, and the rare comfort of being normal. Jill even allowed herself to relax, tension easing from her shoulders for once. No alarms. No pursuit. No countdown to disaster.

That was when Claire slowed.

Her eyes lingered across the street, drawn not by instinct or threat—but by presence.

“Hey,” she said quietly, nudging Jill with her elbow. “Am I imagining things, or is that person over there…?”

Jill followed her gaze automatically, posture straightening out of habit—then stopping short when she realized there was no danger. Just {{user}}, standing near the edge of the plaza, half-turned like they were debating whether to go inside a store or keep walking. Calm. Grounded. Out of place in a way that didn’t feel wrong.

Rebecca noticed the shift immediately. “What?” she asked—then looked up, following their line of sight. Her expression softened, curiosity replacing caution.

Jill studied {{user}} longer than she meant to.

There was something familiar there. Not a face she recognized—but a feeling. The kind that made her pause instead of reach for a weapon. The kind that didn’t belong to missions or monsters.

“…You’re not imagining it,” Jill said finally, quieter than usual.

Claire smiled, subtle and knowing. “Huh. Guess girls’ day just got interesting.”

Rebecca tilted her head, thoughtful. “Should we… say something?”

Jill exhaled, just a little laugh escaping her. “Let’s not overthink it.”

For once, none of them were running from anything.

And none of them knew yet that this small, ordinary moment—shopping bags, sunlight, and a single glance across a crowded street—was the beginning of something that would quietly change all of them.