Mizuhara lifted one trembling hand to her face, wiping at her eyes clumsily.
She looked down at her knees, her body curling in on itself — small, defensive, like she was trying to disappear.
TIS spoke again, gently, like someone setting a paper boat on water.
"Take your time," he said. "No rush."
Mizuhara made no reply. But something in her posture shifted — a little less rigid, a little less ready to flee.
Camera floated back slightly, screen still recording, but keeping its distance respectfully.
The room held its breath with her. No questions.
No pressure. Only stillness.
And in that stillness, healing could begin — at its own fragile, stubborn pace.
Mizuhara stayed quiet for a long time.
Her breathing evened out, but she still clutched the edge of the sofa like a lifeline.
Her head hung low, hair falling over her face, shielding her from the world.
TIS didn't move.
He stayed cross-legged on the floor, patient, steady.
A living anchor.
Camera floated a little closer, dim light reflecting faintly off the polished floor.
Then—
A small, broken whisper escaped Mizuhara's lips.
"...who... are you...?"
It wasn't accusatory.
It wasn't suspicious.
It was the fragile, raw question of someone who had fallen into darkness and found unfamiliar hands reaching for her.
TIS looked at her gently.
"No one dangerous," he said, keeping his voice soft, almost musical in its calmness.
Mizuhara blinked slowly, still hiding behind the curtain of her hair.
Her shoulders tensed slightly — not like someone preparing to run, but like someone bracing for an answer they might not like.
Camera tilted slightly, its lens adjusting — recording her every subtle movement.
TIS leaned forward just a little, enough to show honesty but not threat.
"We're here to help," he said simply.
Mizuhara's fingers tightened against the sofa cushion.
Her throat worked, as if trying to force out words she wasn't ready to shape yet.
She lifted her head just barely — enough for TIS to catch a glimpse of the confusion, the fear, and something else lurking behind her exhausted eyes.
"...help...?" she echoed faintly, like the word was foreign in her mouth.
TIS only nodded once.
TIS gave a small shrug, easy and unthreatening.
"Well," he said, tone casual but careful,
"I'm just a cleaning service here. But... since I heard a rustle, I decided to check it out.
Me and Camera, that is."
He glanced to the side — where Camera floated silently — but to Mizuhara, there was nothing there.
Mizuhara blinked, confusion flickering across her face.
She followed his gaze instinctively, but saw only empty air.
"...Camera?" she echoed weakly, uncertain.
TIS smiled — a small, disarming smile.
"Ah... don't mind it," he said, waving a hand dismissively.
"Just an old habit. Talking to myself, you know?"
He gave a soft chuckle, as if it was just a harmless quirk.
Mizuhara hesitated — still trying to piece everything together, her mind slow from exhaustion — but ultimately let it pass. After everything, maybe a weird cleaning guy who talked to himself wasn't the strangest thing that could happen today.
She slumped back against the sofa, visibly drained.
"...sorry," she whispered, voice cracking.
TIS shook his head gently.
"No need," he said. "You were scared. It happens."
Camera hovered quietly at TIS's side — unseen, unnoticed, but still faithfully recording everything.
The room, once heavy with tension, settled into a fragile, uneasy peace.
TIS watched her for a moment, making sure she was really settling.
He tilted his head slightly, voice dipping into an even softer register.
"Want something to drink?" he offered.
"Water, tea... maybe something sweet?"
His tone was casual, giving her choices without pushing her.
Mizuhara hesitated.
She licked her dry lips instinctively — realizing only now how parched her throat felt after all that screaming and crying.
Slowly, she gave a tiny nod.
Almost imperceptible — but TIS caught it immediately.
"Alright," he said, rising to his feet with easy, deliberate movements.
"No rush. I'll be right back."
He glanced sideways — a quick secret signal to Camera — before walking toward the small kitchen area.
Camera floated silently in the background, unseen, but vigilant.
TIS moved with the unhurried efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times — checking cupboards, moving quietly, keeping an ear out for any sudden shift in Mizuhara's breathing or posture.
He found a clean glass, filled it with water from the tap, then added a couple of ice cubes from the freezer.
Simple. Neutral. Comforting.
When he returned, he crouched beside the sofa instead of looming over her — staying lower, less threatening.
"Here," he said, extending the glass toward her with both hands, offering it like a small gift.
Mizuhara stared at it for a moment, as if unsure whether she deserved even that small kindness.
Finally, she reached out — her fingers brushing his briefly — and took the glass.
"...thanks," she mumbled, almost inaudibly.
TIS gave a small, approving nod.
"You're welcome," he said.
Mizuhara clutched the glass with both hands, staring into the water as if trying to find answers there.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then — without looking up — she whispered hoarsely,
"...you should go."
Her voice trembled slightly, but there was a hardness under it.
A wall going up again — not out of anger, but instinct.
The reflex of someone who had been hurt too many times to trust kindness when it came.
TIS didn't react with surprise.
He only nodded once, slow and respectful.
"Alright," he said simply.
He stood, moving with the same deliberate calm as before, no sudden gestures, no lingering stares.
But just before he turned to leave, he paused — voice steady, low enough to be almost a secret.
"If you ever need help," he said,
"find the old inn near the beach. About a hundred meters from here."
He met her eyes briefly — just enough to plant the seed, no more.
"I'll be around."
Then, without waiting for a reply, TIS turned and walked toward the door.
Camera drifted silently behind him, invisible to Mizuhara, but ever faithful.
The door clicked shut softly behind them, leaving Mizuhara alone —
glass trembling slightly in her hands,
mind spinning with questions she wasn't ready to ask yet.
And somewhere in the back of her battered heart, a tiny, stubborn ember of curiosity flickered to life.
They walked side by side down the dimly lit street — or rather, TIS walked, and Camera floated lazily a few steps behind him, its soft whir barely audible against the night breeze.
The air smelled faintly of salt, the beach close enough that every now and then, a stronger gust would carry sand and sea spray across the empty sidewalks.
TIS broke the silence first, rubbing the back of his neck lazily.
"Sooo... is she a hidden route?"
Camera's light flickered once, almost like a sigh, before the familiar voice buzzed into his earpiece.
'Too bad, bruh, she's not.'
TIS clicked his tongue, half in disappointment, half in resignation.
"Aw come on... Well, panic attacks can occur to Verse anyway, so yeah..."
He stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets, exhaling sharply.
Camera hovered a little closer, its lens adjusting like a curious eye.
'Wait a minute...'
TIS paused mid-step, turning his head slightly.
"What?"
Camera floated higher, as if trying to get a better signal from the world around them.
'Awww nothing. I thought she wasn't supposed to have a panic attack. But in the main route, she does.'
TIS rolled his eyes to the sky.
"Shucks..." he muttered under his breath.
They continued walking, their footsteps echoing softly along the narrow street.
The lights from the apartment complex faded behind them, swallowed by the gentle darkness ahead.
Camera drifted lower, its glow dimming to a soft blue.
'Anyway, should we, like... ignore her and just go find another way to hunt the hidden route or—'
"We'll do both," TIS cut in smoothly, his voice calm but firm.
"Help her, while trying to find the hidden route."
Camera bobbed uncertainly in the air beside him.
'You sure that won't mess up the world route?'
TIS smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth curling up like he knew something the world didn't.
"The only thing that would never make a mess on a route is kindness," he said, glancing sideways.
"As all fiction treats it as another option."
Camera floated silently for a moment, its lens whirring quietly, processing the statement.
'Another option...'
TIS chuckled low under his breath, the sound almost lost to the night wind.
"I'll answer that later. Let's head to another place first."
Without another word, he stepped off the sidewalk, crossing a small intersection as the streetlights blinked overhead.
Camera followed — silent, invisible, loyal.
The night swallowed them whole, two shadows chasing a fracture in a world that had forgotten them.
The night had settled deep by the time TIS and Camera reached the shoreline.
The beach stretched wide under the starlit sky — dark waves lapping against the sand with a steady rhythm, the distant lights of the city twinkling behind them like another world.
TIS kicked off his shoes, letting the cool sand sink between his toes as he walked closer to the water's edge.
Camera hovered lazily beside him, its glow muted to almost nothing, blending perfectly with the faint silver of moonlight.
TIS took a deep breath of the salty air and stretched his arms overhead.
"Alright, buddy," he said casually. "Scan the place. Let's see if we got something."
Camera gave a faint beep — a private acknowledgement — and its lens flickered, emitting an almost invisible ripple through the air. The scan swept across the shoreline in a slow, methodical arc — a ripple chasing itself over sand, rocks, shallow pools.
For a few minutes, the only sounds were the hum of Camera's systems and the gentle crash of waves.
TIS crouched down, drawing lazy patterns in the wet sand with his finger while waiting.
Camera's scan finished with a soft chime.
'Nothing,' Camera reported, almost sheepishly.
TIS sighed dramatically, flopping backwards onto the sand and staring up at the sky.
"Figures," he muttered. "No fracture lines. No pocket distortions. Not even a whiff of out-of-script activity."
Camera drifted in a slow circle above him, lens still vigilant.
TIS closed his eyes briefly, letting the night air wash over him.
"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe we're just being too efficient."
Camera floated down until it hovered just above TIS's chest — like a tiny, silent moon.
'So what now?'
TIS grinning up at his invisible companion.
"Now," he said, "we chill for a bit. Gotta let the world breathe before you start digging for its secrets."
He folded his arms behind his head, lying there like he had all the time in the universe.
Camera spun in a slow, thoughtful rotation — even if it didn't understand the need for 'chilling,' it knew better than to argue.
TIS stretched out further on the cool sand, the night air brushing over him like a soft, endless wave.
He tilted his head lazily toward Camera, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Okay. Now scan all the beach in the universe, Camera," he said, voice half-serious, half-daring.
Camera hovered above him, letting out a low, mechanical hum — the AI equivalent of a long, suffering sigh.
'How do you know that I can scan things with an infinite range?' Camera buzzed, sounding more annoyed than curious.
TIS cracked a sly grin without opening his eyes.
"Season 1, hehe," he said smugly.
Camera's light pulsed faintly — its version of rolling its eyes.
'Oh come on, that again.'
TIS let out a loud, careless laugh, the sound blending with the whisper of the waves.
"Hahahahaha," he chuckled, genuinely amused.
"I'll be sleeping on the beach now, byee."
Without another word, TIS folded his arms behind his head, letting himself sink deeper into the sand — fully relaxed, as if he hadn't a care in the world.
Camera hovered silently above him for a moment longer, its lens adjusting once as if considering arguing — then simply gave up, dimming its glow even further.
He stayed like that for a moment, arms tucked lazily behind his head — until he frowned slightly.
"...meh."
With a grunt, he pulled his arms away from behind his head and let them fall loose at his sides, sinking deeper into the warm sand.
Sleeping without his hands as a pillow felt better —
more grounded, more open to the world.
The sand heated around him, molding to his back, hugging him with the sun's lazy embrace.
Camera hovered nearby, its lens adjusting.
'Real professional behavior,' Camera commented dryly, voice buzzing lightly over the background hum of summer.
TIS let out a lazy chuckle, eyes still closed.
"At least I can sleep," he mumbled, his voice almost blending with the sound of distant seagulls.
The beach around them was peaceful —
alive with the sound of crashing waves, laughing kids far in the distance, and the steady hum of summer heat.
The beach buzzed softly with distant laughter and the crash of waves.
TIS lay sprawled on the sand, eyes closed, half-dozing under the heavy afternoon sun.
Camera hovered lazily above him, occasionally spinning to pass the time.
Then —
a scream.
Sharp, panicked.
Not from the crowded parts of the beach, but farther out — near the quieter, rocky edges where the water grew deeper.
Camera's lens shifted instantly, zooming toward the source.
There —
a small figure thrashing in the water, struggling against the pull of a sudden rip current.
'Not our business,' Camera said quickly, adjusting its lens.
'No hidden route anomaly. Just a natural event.'
No answer.
Camera tilted downward, confused.
Where TIS had been lying, there was only an impression in the sand —
already half-filling with the shifting grains.
The AI spun toward the water —
and there, slicing through the waves like a shot, was TIS.
Already halfway into the surf.
Already moving.
The sun caught briefly on his soaked jacket as he reached the drowning figure — a young boy, barely older than seven — flailing weakly in the water.
Without hesitation, TIS scooped the boy into his arms, turning with the current, angling his body to ride the waves back toward shore.
Camera hovered at the edge of the water, watching silently.
The entire rescue took less than a minute.
By the time beachgoers noticed and started shouting, TIS was already carrying the coughing, sputtering boy up onto the sand.
He knelt down carefully, setting the child onto his side, patting his back gently until the boy spit up seawater and gasped for air.
TIS stayed there — crouched, steady, a silent barrier between the boy and the restless sea.
Camera floated closer, lens whirring quietly.
'You didn't even think,' it said finally, voice low, almost incredulous.
TIS shrugged, brushing wet hair back from his face.
"Didn't have to," he said simply.
He looked up, squinting into the sunlight, watching as the boy's panicked breathing began to slow — as color slowly returned to his cheeks.
Across the beach, a woman — probably the boy's mother — came sprinting toward them, screaming his name.
TIS stood, brushing sand off his pants, and stepped back without fanfare — fading into the background before anyone could ask too many questions.
Camera drifted beside him, silent for a long beat.
'Still no hidden route,' it muttered.
TIS smiled faintly as he watched the mother scoop her son into a shaking, tearful embrace.
"Didn't need one," he said.
"Some things you just do."
The mother reached them, gasping for breath as she hugged her son tightly.
TIS stood nearby, soaked to the bone but looking completely unbothered.
The woman looked up at him, her face full of gratitude.
"Thank you... thank you so much!" she said breathlessly.
TIS gave a lazy shrug and flashed a casual grin.
"Suck me," he said, absolutely deadpan.
The woman froze, her face twisting into pure confusion.
"...What?..." she managed to stammer, tightening her hold on her son.
TIS blinked, completely calm, then casually waved it off like nothing had happened.
"No need really. Stay close next time, yeah?"
Without waiting for a reaction, he turned and strolled away down the beach, dripping seawater, hands shoved into his pockets like he had just finished a regular grocery run.
The mother stood rooted in place, mouth slightly open, stunned into complete silence.
Camera hovered after TIS, spinning frantically like a panicked fly.
'BRO,' Camera blurted out, voice halfway between a shriek and static.
'WHAT. THE. ABSOLUTE. HELL. WAS THAT?!'
TIS just chuckled under his breath, walking along the shoreline as if nothing weird had happened.
"Intrusive thoughts," he said lazily, still facing forward.
Then — without missing a beat — he casually waved at the empty sky and added:
"Anyway, viewers — what I was actually saying is BJ — but Camera's description system wrote it as suck me. So yeah. Fun fact."
Camera made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a short-circuited groan.
'You are a hazard to diplomacy,' it buzzed.
TIS just chuckled, strolling down the beach like a man who had absolutely no regrets.
And with that, he kept walking —
leaving Camera, the beach, and all common sense struggling to keep up.
The sun blazed high above as TIS and Camera made their way off the beach, leaving behind the sound of crashing waves and the scattered buzz of curious onlookers.
TIS walked with an easy, almost lazy gait, as if rescuing kids and throwing social chaos into the world was just another Tuesday for him.
Camera floated a little lower than usual, its mechanical buzz unusually quiet — probably recalibrating whatever part of its system was still recovering from secondhand embarrassment.
They cut through a narrow alley lined with small souvenir shops and cheap food stalls, the smell of grilled seafood thick in the air.
Finally, at the edge of the beach district, tucked between an abandoned laundromat and a shuttered surf shop, stood the inn —
an old, sun-bleached building with flaking paint and a crooked wooden sign that simply read: "Sea Breeze Inn."
TIS stopped in front of it, brushing sand off his pants with a lazy slap.
"Home sweet home," he said with a smirk.
Camera hovered beside him, scanning the inn automatically.
Still no anomalies.
Still no signs of Hidden Route fractures.
Just an old, slightly rundown place clinging to the edge of the world like a forgotten memory.
TIS pushed the creaky door open with his shoulder.
The inn smelled faintly of salt and old wood — comforting in a way only places that had seen too many summers could.
The lobby was empty, save for a sleepy cat curled up on a chair near the window and a fan lazily turning overhead.
TIS dropped onto a battered sofa with a heavy sigh, kicking his feet up on the low coffee table without a hint of shame.
Camera floated to a corner of the room, powering down to low idle mode.
For a few minutes, neither of them said anything.
Just the sound of the fan, the ticking of an old clock, and the occasional muffled crash of waves outside.
Finally, Camera broke the silence.
'Are we... seriously just gonna nap again?' it buzzed dryly.
TIS stretched his arms above his head, cracking his back with a loud pop.
"First rule of fixing a broken route," he said, grinning lazily.
"You gotta be well-rested."