The morning was unusually quiet, which in Ari’s experience, was never a good sign. Normally, the sounds of Yuri’s shouting, Kimi’s smug remarks, and Finoria’s laughter would echo through the manor long before breakfast. Instead, the silence stretched, broken only by the soft chirping of birds outside.

Ari set down his cup of tea, a faint crease forming in his brow. Peaceful mornings were rare, and they made him uneasy.

“They’re up to something,” he muttered to himself.

As if on cue, the sound of soft footsteps padded behind him. Ari didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Finoria had a particular way of moving—light enough to be graceful, but always with the confidence of someone who had nothing to hide.

“Morning, Ari,” Finoria said casually, though her tone had that playful lilt he’d grown accustomed to.

“Morning,” he replied, looking up.

Finoria stood with one hand on her hip and her shield slung across her back as usual, but something about her demeanor was off. There was a glint in her warm brown eyes—a mischievous spark that put him on alert.

“You’re unusually quiet,” Ari noted, watching her carefully.

She grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m just enjoying the calm before the chaos.”

“Chaos?”

Before Finoria could answer, a loud crash echoed from somewhere upstairs, followed by Yuri’s unmistakable voice.

“Kimi! What did you do to my armor?!”

“It’s an improvement,” Kimi’s serene voice floated down the stairs. “You should thank me.”

“Improvement? You painted flowers on it!”

“They’re elegant flowers,” Kimi replied sweetly. “I thought it could use a little color. Red suits you.”

Ari let out a long sigh. “Of course.”

Finoria laughed, stepping closer and resting her arm casually on his shoulder—a bold gesture that caught him off guard. “Told you. Chaos.”

Ari tilted his head slightly, glancing at her arm. “You’re getting comfortable.”

“I’m always comfortable around you,” she replied smoothly, her smile never faltering.

Before Ari could respond, Yuri burst into the room, dragging the offending piece of armor behind her. Sure enough, her once-polished breastplate was now adorned with carefully painted red flowers, complete with swirling vines and tiny leaves.

“Look at this!” Yuri growled, thrusting the armor in Ari’s direction. “Do something about her.”

Kimi strolled in moments later, her expression innocent but her violet eyes sparkling with amusement. “Do you like it, Ari? I think it’s quite artistic.”

Ari gave the armor a long, measured look before glancing back at Kimi. “You painted it yourself?”

Kimi clasped her hands together, beaming. “I did.”

“It’s impressive work,” Ari admitted.

Yuri’s jaw dropped. “You’re encouraging this?!”

“I’m just acknowledging her effort,” Ari replied calmly.

Yuri groaned, dropping the armor with a clatter. “I swear, you let her get away with everything. Next time, I’ll—”

“Yuri, calm down,” Finoria interrupted, still leaning casually against Ari. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

“Stay out of this!” Yuri snapped, shooting Finoria a glare.

Finoria smirked, lifting her arm from Ari’s shoulder only to stretch in an exaggerated manner. “Suit yourself. I’m just here to enjoy the show.”

Yuri turned back to Ari, crossing her arms. “You’re the leader here. Do something about her!”

Ari glanced between the three women—Yuri fuming, Kimi smiling smugly, and Finoria watching with obvious amusement. “Fine,” he said at last. “Kimi, no more painting other people’s equipment without permission.”

“Thank you!” Yuri said, throwing her hands up.

Kimi pouted, her violet eyes narrowing slightly. “But it looks better this way.”

“No,” Ari said firmly, giving her a look that brokered no argument.

Kimi sighed dramatically. “Fine. If that’s what Ari wants…”

“Thank you,” Yuri said again, more triumphantly this time.

Kimi turned away, muttering under her breath. “No appreciation for art in this house.”

Yuri was about to respond when Ari raised a hand. “Enough.”

The room fell silent, save for Finoria’s soft laughter. “You handle them so well,” she said, nudging Ari lightly with her elbow.

“It’s part of the job,” he replied, shaking his head. “Speaking of which, we’ve wasted enough of the morning. Get ready for training.”

Yuri groaned. “After this nonsense? I need a break.”

“You’ll feel better after a few rounds,” Ari said calmly.

Kimi perked up at that. “Does that mean sparring with you, Ari?”

“No,” he replied without hesitation.

She pouted again, but Ari ignored it, already heading toward the door. Finoria fell into step beside him, a sly smile still playing at her lips.

“You’re too soft on them, you know,” she said teasingly, brushing close to him as they walked. “Especially Kimi.”

Ari glanced at her. “You think I’m not soft on you?”

“Me?” Finoria gave him an exaggerated look of innocence. “Oh, I’d never need it. I’m perfectly well-behaved.”

Ari huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s debatable.”

The group gathered outside in the training grounds, the mood lighter despite the earlier commotion. Yuri was still muttering under her breath, Kimi hummed happily as if she hadn’t caused any trouble at all, and Finoria watched them both with her usual mix of amusement and mischief.

Ari stood at the center of it all, the calm in their storm—a role he had long since grown used to.

“Alright,” he said, his voice carrying authority. “Pair off for drills. We’ll start simple.”

As the group moved into position, Finoria leaned in slightly, her voice low enough for only him to hear. “Just remember, if you get bored of playing referee, I’m always happy to keep you company.”

Ari shot her a sidelong glance. “Noted.”

Finoria’s laughter rang out across the grounds, bright and carefree, as the training began.

For all their chaos, these were the moments Ari cherished most—quiet, familiar days where saving the world was a distant memory, and the only battles left to fight were the ones that came with peace.