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Touma's apartment was… lived in.
Small, cramped, and hot. A pile of laundry was waging war with a broken floor fan. The futon looked like it had been folded in half for weeks. One curtain was tied up with what Kazuki was 90% sure was a shoelace.
But it was warm.
It didn't smell like chemicals or antiseptic or metal like the rest of the city.
It smelled like cheap curry, air freshener, and normal.
And right now, that was more than enough.
Touma kicked the door shut behind them and dropped his grocery bags onto a small table with two mismatched chairs.
"Alright, make yourself at home. Just don't sit too hard. That chair on the left's got a vendetta against knees."
Kazuki sat anyway. Slowly.
The chair creaked but held.
Touma started unpacking groceries like it was second nature, tossing instant noodles and discount rice packs into cabinets without looking.
"You drink tea?"
"I guess?"
"Too bad, only got barley tea."
He poured two cups from a plastic bottle and passed one over.
Kazuki took it. The cold hit felt weirdly refreshing.
For a while, they just sat like that—drinking in silence, the kind that wasn't awkward. The kind where both people were just glad to not be running for once.
Kazuki finally spoke.
"Thanks. For… all this."
"Seriously, stop thanking me," Touma groaned. "You'll jinx the entire block."
Kazuki smirked, but nodded. "So. Any rules?"
"Yeah," Touma said. "Don't steal my last curry bun. And if the lights flicker three times fast, that just means the neighbors are microwaving their dreams again."
"That… was a joke?"
"Mostly."
Kazuki looked around the tiny room.
"You live here alone?"
"Yup. Parents are back in my town. Long-distance student program. I'm supposed to be a high-level esper or something."
"Are you?"
"Nope. Level 0. I'm just very good at surviving near-death experiences."
Kazuki chuckled. "Sounds like a talent."
"More like a curse."
Kazuki took another sip of tea, then leaned back a little.
"I should probably figure out what I'm doing next."
"You got any skills?" Touma asked.
Kazuki hesitated.
Sure. If he counted involuntary brain upgrades and probably-illegal chemical enhancements as "skills." But he wasn't about to unpack that at the kitchen table.
"Nothing special," he said instead. "But I'm good at picking stuff up fast. If there's work, I'll do it."
Touma nodded. "Well, you won't find a real job without a student ID or residence status. But there's always ways to help."
"Like?"
"Freelance tech repair. Delivery gigs. Helping at ramen shops. I've done it all. You're not gonna make bank, but it's honest. Ish."
"Sounds good. I don't need much."
Kazuki glanced toward the window.
The city lights looked softer from here. More distant.
He let the silence stretch again.
Touma leaned back, stretching his arms.
"You know, for someone who clearly got dropped into this place without a plan, you're pretty calm."
"Not calm. Just tired."
"Fair."
Kazuki looked around again.
"Why help me?"
Touma shrugged. "You reminded me of someone I met once. Lost, hungry, looked like they'd fallen into a different dimension."
"And what happened to them?"
"They tried to eat a burger wrapper. Then fainted."
Kazuki smiled. "I'll try not to one-up that."
Touma stood, opened a cabinet, and tossed a futon out onto the floor.
"This one's yours. Floor's clean enough, probably. Oh, and there's a charger port if you need it."
"No phone."
"Right. Add that to the list."
Kazuki lay back on the futon, hands behind his head.
His brain still buzzed. Still whispering fragments of knowledge—bits of science, history, mechanics he didn't ask for. It felt like trying to sleep with five TVs on in his head.
But the noise wasn't scary anymore.
Just… background.
And for the first time since waking up in this city, he let his eyes close without bracing for the next disaster.
"I'll find a way to help with groceries," Kazuki said softly.
"Sure," Touma replied. "But for now, sleep. Tomorrow, the city wakes up early. And it's not always nice about it."
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