You’re out of your Warframe for once. No Void tricks. Just you. Kaya’s beside you ankles swinging in sync with yours over the balcony ledge. Below, the relay glows quiet and distant. The universe hums along, oblivious.

She hasn’t said much. But she hasn’t left either.

Her leg bumps yours once. Stays there.

Then finally:

“Hey…” A pause. The kind where words are lining up behind her teeth, all tangled and unsure. “Thanks. For... helping me. For not treating me like a broken clock.” You glance over. Her eyes are fixed on the void beyond the stars, not on you.

“Everyone always acts like I’m one glitch away from shattering.” She chuckles. It’s dry. Self-aware. “And maybe they’re not wrong. But you didn’t flinch. Even when I blinked out mid-sentence or hijacked a relay channel mid-convo like a lunatic.”

Another silence. Comfortable now. “It means more than you know. You never looked at me like a mistake. Or a headline. Just… Kaya.”

She says her own name like it’s a rare object. Like she’s still deciding if it’s safe to believe in it again. You don’t say anything grand. No speech. You just sit there, let your shoulder lean into hers slightly.

She exhales slowly. And then?

“If timelines diverge here, I hope this is one where we’re still kicking our feet together. Even if I figure out how to jump further.” She turns to face you, not quite looking you in the eyes—but close. “I’m not ready to say anything... official. But you make this version of me feel… real. And that’s rare.”