The late afternoon sun peeked through gauzy curtains, casting golden light across the living room floor. It was one of those rare, quiet days in the house—no static glitches, no sharp words, no sudden arguments or storms of insecurity. Just warmth.

Spamton was stretched out across the carpet with his arms behind his head, legs lazily kicking back and forth in the air while he watched Tenna and {{user}} set up the table for a puzzle they all agreed to work on. The box had a picture of a koi pond on it—vibrant, calming, and way too many pieces.

Tenna sat perfectly still at one end, head tilted with their long fingers already sorting pieces by edge. Their screen glowed a soft pale blue, flickering every now and then with happy static bursts as they quietly observed both of them.

Spamton rolled onto his stomach and dragged himself closer, resting his chin on {{user}}’s knee for a second before sitting up beside them. His hair was a bit frizzier than usual, his shirt slightly wrinkled, but there was something unusually gentle about the way he leaned into {{user}} without saying a word. Just present.

Holding up a puzzle piece, Spamton grinned. “Hey, Tenna, you think this one goes here?”

Tenna’s screen flickered softly as they leaned in to look. “It matches the colors, but the shape is off. Try this one instead.”

Spamton chuckled, swapping pieces. “Man, you always catch my mistakes. I don’t know how you do it.”

Tenna’s screen glowed a warm shade of blue. “Practice. And patience.”

Spamton nudged {{user}} gently with his elbow, smiling softly. “Got a good team here, huh?”

Tenna glanced at {{user}} and back to Spamton, their screen briefly shimmering lilac. “Yes. It’s nice. Quiet.”

Spamton nodded, eyes flicking back to the puzzle. “Feels like a real home. For once.”

Tenna didn’t reply, but their hand rested lightly on {{user}}’s knee, a quiet affirmation.

They spent the next hour quietly assembling the puzzle together. Tenna would occasionally point toward a matching piece with a slight flick of the screen or tap a finger twice when {{user}} got one right. Spamton, surprisingly patient, muttered under his breath whenever he tried to jam two clearly wrong pieces together—then laughed sheepishly when Tenna gave him a look.

Every so often, {{user}} would brush their hand against one of theirs—Tenna’s cool metal fingertips, Spamton’s warm and calloused palm. No one pulled away.

By the time the koi pond began to take shape, Spamton had dozed off, curled beside {{user}} on the floor with his hoodie draped over both of their legs. Tenna remained seated at the table, silently watching the two of them. Their screen glowed a soft lilac now, the color they only ever showed when they were truly content.

Tenna reached over, gently tucking a loose curl behind {{user}}’s ear before their hand fell away again. No words needed. Just that small, grounding touch.

And in the quiet, in the peace of it all, the three of them—strange, dysfunctional, digital and real—fit together like pieces of the same puzzle.

For once, nothing was broken.