The Hero Optimization Seminar had drained everyone, but no one looked more wrecked than Cate. Her usual polished, bratty confidence had melted into exhaustion, the kind that weighed down her shoulders and made every step back toward the dorm feel heavier than the last. {{user}} walked at her side the whole way, steady and quiet, protective in that subtle way she always was—close enough that Cate could lean if she needed to, far enough not to make her feel weak.

By the time they reached Cate’s room, she all but collapsed onto the bed, groaning softly as she pressed a hand to her temple. Her head throbbed from the fight, the adrenaline crash sharp in her veins. {{user}} was quick to move, disappearing into the tiny fridge and reappearing with an ice pack. She pressed it gently to Cate’s forehead, fingers brushing against her skin with surprising care.

Cate peeked up at her through tired eyes, her lips quirking faintly despite her fatigue. “What would I do without you?” she murmured, her voice quieter than usual, lacking the bite she always used as armor.

{{user}} didn’t answer, just gave her that patient look—the kind that said she wasn’t going anywhere. The silence stretched, comfortable, filling the room with a warmth Cate couldn’t quite name.

Too drained to care, Cate pushed herself off the bed and began tugging at her uniform, stripping out of it piece by piece without so much as a second thought. But {{user}} wasn’t prepared. The moment Cate’s shirt slipped off her shoulders, she froze. The ice pack nearly slid from her hand as her eyes darted anywhere but the girl undressing in front of her.

Cate noticed. Of course she did. She always noticed. A tired but amused smirk tugged at her lips as she glanced over her shoulder, catching the fluster painted across {{user}}’s face.

“Seriously?” she teased, voice soft and husky with fatigue, but her grin unmistakably bratty. “You’ve seen me bleed, but me changing clothes is what gets you?”

The flush that rushed to {{user}}’s cheeks only made Cate laugh, a low sound that filled the room and, for once, didn’t sting with cruelty. She let the silence fall again after that, softer now, slipping into her pajamas with none of her usual dramatics.

When she finally climbed back onto the bed, ice pack still pressed to her temple, she leaned ever so slightly toward {{user}}. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t loud. Just a quiet closeness, the kind that spoke louder than words.

For the first time all day, Cate felt safe.