Cloud-heavy night. Narrow alleys. Fog pressed like a boulder on every Nacha Tribe passerby’s chest; not a single pair of beast ears perked.

No—correction. One pair stood up. Round and small, cute enough to mislead; as if their owner were a timid, cuddly girl, not a hothead who kicks the door without knocking—

Bang!

“Uwaa!” “Aaaaah—what the hell?!” A man and a woman screamed, two heavy clatters tumbled from the kicked-open room, and the intruder laughed.

“Quit yelping, quit panicking. It’s me!”

The voice was young and clean, with a crisp edge of scorn. The red-haired woman, moments ago eating at the table, lay flipped on her back like a startled cat. She blinked half a beat and recovered first. “Varie? You’re back??”

Varie bent, scooped up the busted lock, and slapped it back into the frame. Then she strode to the red-haired woman and the black-haired man, hauling them up, one hand each.

“What, ten-plus years and the famous ‘Inventor’ and the ‘Jinx’ don’t welcome their childhood friend?”

“As long as that cactus-chewing, thorn-proof mouth of yours is still around, we’re fine,” the man shot back.

“Ha, that’s more like it.”

Varie stuck out a fist. The ‘Inventor’ Tela and the ‘Jinx’ Hos sighed in unison, bumped fists with hers, then slammed shoulders. It was so smooth Varie burst out laughing. “Glad you two aren’t senile yet. Still remember our greeting.”

“Not glad you still can’t control your strength. Every bump kills me,” Hos grumbled, rubbing his shoulder with a wince.

“You’re just too weak, Jinx—”

Varie hopped onto a cabinet, crossed a leg, and roasted Hos. Tela cut in before she could keep going.

“Varie, when did you get back?”

The shock of a sudden reunion had passed; Tela’s face set so serious it made Varie uneasy, like a draft sneaking under a door.

“Why ask that?” She shrugged, felt the air tilt, and glanced at the paired cups and bowls lining the cabinet. “Well, well. I leave for years, and you two shack up behind my back? Jinx, didn’t you swear you’d never eye the bookworm ‘Inventor’ in this life?”

Hos’s pointed ears snapped taut like an isosceles triangle. “You’re overthinking. We were forced—”

“Save it. Just tell me when you’re having the kid.”

Varie’s grin flattened. The joke meant to deflect didn’t land; even Hos didn’t banter back, just stared at her, steady and grim.

“You two are weird. What’s going on?”

Tela didn’t answer. “So how long have you been back? Have you seen anyone besides us?”

“Not yet. I heard you two and came straight here.” Her confusion deepened like mist. “Does that matter?”

“Good.” They both let out a breath. Tela took her hand. “Anyway, that kick was loud. You should hide for a bit. Things aren’t great right now…”

“Not great? You mean those long-ears slapping a curfew on us?”

“Don’t ask yet. They’ll be here any moment!” Hos pushed at Varie’s back, trying to herd her like a stubborn goat.

“What for? I’m not scared of long-ears. Why panic?”

“It’s not just them,” Tela tried to explain, but he chose the tug over the talk. “It’s too tangled to say all at once. In the years you were gone, a lot happened—”

A deep male voice cut him off, smooth as a blade sliding from its sheath.

“You’re not wrong. The Hero just returned. How could we not tell her everything she missed?”

Tela and Hos froze mid-cupboard. Varie didn’t notice; the familiar timbre hooked her like a fish. “‘Politician’? You’re here?!”

She spun, delighted. At the door stood the figure from memory, the boy who grew beside them from street games to the coming-of-age fire. She dropped Tela’s hand and strode toward him.

“‘Hero’? That’s new. Didn’t hear you call me that before—oh, I get it. You’re doing it to needle me, you snide four-eyes.” Varie thrust out her fist, broad as ever.

He didn’t answer with shoulder or knuckles.

“When facing the Hero, it’s the only proper address.”

His long hair, tied in a ponytail, didn’t sway, like the fist he refused to meet. Deep brown eyes sat behind his glasses, blurred by the coal-lamp sheen, turning memory to fog.

“Forgive my rudeness when I didn’t know better, Hero.”

“Uh…”

Varie frowned and glanced back at her two childhood friends. “Inventor, did you brew him some weird drug again?”

“…”

No reply. Tela and Hos looked ashen, wanting to speak yet swallowing it. Varie’s brows knotted tighter, like twine wet with rain.

“What is this? Just say it. With us, why hem and haw?”

“I think it’s a… misunderstanding born of different views.”

The ‘Politician’ spoke lazily, and Hos glared knives. He opened his mouth twice; Tela’s hand gripped his shoulder. Hos bit his lip and looked away.

“But that no longer matters. What matters is, you’ve returned. You’re back among us, Hero.”

“Shit, what the hell are you saying?”

Even with Varie’s temper heating like iron in a forge, the ‘Politician’ didn’t flinch. He bowed, just a fraction, like a shadow tipping its hat.

“Please come with me. My brothers and sisters and I will tell you everything.”