After several weeks—
"Ughmm..." Robin's eyelids fluttered weakly as his consciousness stirred. His eyes twitched and slowly opened, revealing only a narrow sliver of light as he stared blankly upward. It took another five long, hazy minutes before he fully processed what he was looking at—an ornate white ceiling, rich with elegant, intricate carvings that seemed to dance in and out of focus. It was the ceiling of his apartment in the academy building. He was home.
As that realization set in, a new sensation brushed his awareness—he wasn't alone. Turning his head slightly, though it felt like dragging a mountain, he spotted Shaddad slumped in a chair beside the bed. His head was tilted back, mouth hanging open in a full, graceless sleep. It was the kind of deep, unbothered slumber that only someone utterly exhausted could achieve. "Ah..." Robin let out a barely audible sound.
