The underground was always dim, filled with the constant scent of damp stone and the hum of whispers—most of them dangerous. But in one corner of this darkness, nestled in a cramped room lit by a single flickering lantern, there was a rare kind of warmth.

Mai sat cross-legged on the dusty wooden floor, her tiny hands gently guiding a scruffy little hamster through a maze she’d made out of old boxes and chipped mugs. The hamster—named Miso, after her favorite soup—was unusually energetic today, making her laugh as it tumbled over a sock.

The door creaked open.

Levi stood in the frame, his usual blank expression painted across his young but weary face. His hair was unkempt, and his shirt was stained with dust from whatever odd job he’d been dragged into that morning. He didn’t say anything at first—he rarely did. But his gray eyes softened ever so slightly when he saw her smile.

“Tch… you’re still playing with that rat?”

Mai glanced up, grinning. “He’s not a rat, he’s a hamster. And he’s smarter than you.”

Levi stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He walked over slowly and crouched beside her, watching Miso crawl into a matchbox like it was a cave. Silence passed, the kind that wasn’t awkward—it was just them. Just like always.

“…You eat today?” he asked, voice quiet.

Mai nodded, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, half-eaten bread roll. “I saved you some.”

He stared at her for a second before looking away, jaw tightening. “You shouldn’t. You need it more.”

She gently placed the bread in his lap anyway. “You’re my best friend, Levi. That means we take care of each other.”

Outside, the noise of the underground rumbled on—but inside that little room, it was calm. Safe. Even if just for now.