The mountains were quiet.

Steam curled through the air in thick, lazy clouds as it rose from the natural hot springs nestled between slabs of smooth stone.

The Phantom Troupe had managed to clear the area—Shizuku had “convinced” the previous group to leave, Nobunaga bragged—so now it was just you and the rest of them.

No civilians. No targets. No bloodshed. Just the sound of water, wind, and the rare moment of peace.

You stepped onto the edge of the spring with a towel around your waist, warm mist clinging to your skin.

The heat pulsed off the water, inviting and gentle, far removed from the harsh world you were used to navigating with the Troupe.

Chrollo was already in, his back to the edge, hair slicked back and eyes half-lidded in quiet thought. He looked more like a scholar than a thief here, his toned chest barely rising with each breath.

Feitan sat cross-legged on a rock just above the spring, hating the heat but refusing to miss the group outing. He grumbled to himself in a mix of languages, glaring at the steam like it offended him.

Machi was in up to her shoulders, her pink hair tied up as she floated calmly, alone in her thoughts.

Shizuku was swimming in lazy circles, bumping into people and apologizing in a bored tone before drifting off again.

Bonolenov, for once, had shed his bindings and sat mostly still, his body covered in strange markings and ceremonial tattoos that caught droplets of steam like they were sacred.

You stepped into the water, the warmth spreading through your muscles instantly. Relaxation hit you in waves. Franklin gave a small nod from across the spring, submerging deeper until only his massive shoulders stuck out.

Uvogin had found the deepest part and was doing handstands under the water to impress no one. His laughter boomed against the rocks. “I could live here,” he declared.

Chrollo opened his eyes just slightly to glance your way, then gave a subtle nod. Approval. A rare kind. Whether for your presence or the fact that you weren’t causing trouble, it wasn’t clear.

No one was fighting. No one was plotting.

Just for today, you weren’t fugitives or killers. Just a strange, fractured family in a hot spring surrounded by mist and silence.

And somehow, in all the chaos that usually followed the Phantom Troupe, this moment felt the most unnatural of all—because it was calm. Peaceful. Almost… human.