The apartment felt strangely empty without the noise of the store clinging to them. No humming refrigerators, no automatic doors sliding open, no voices overlapping into chaos. Just the soft glow of a single lamp, the ticking of a wall clock, and the distant sound of traffic drifting in through a cracked window.
Vario sat on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor. The confidence he usually carried so effortlessly was gone. No jokes. No dramatic poses. Just exhaustion.
The day had been a lot.
The ash.
The uniforms.
The laughter that started harmless and ended sharp.
He replayed it all in his head, wondering where it had crossed the line.
From the hallway, Nyx watched him quietly. She had changed out of her makeshift clothes and into something comfortable, but her expression was unusually serious. No smirk. No teasing glint in her eyes.
She took a breath and walked over.
The couch dipped slightly as she sat beside him. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't awkward—just heavy, like both of them knew words mattered here.
Nyx was the first to move. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head lightly against his shoulder.
Vario blinked, surprised. His body tensed on instinct, then slowly relaxed as he realized she wasn't joking. This wasn't a prank.
"I'm sorry," Nyx said softly.
The words landed harder than any punishment earlier that day.
He swallowed. "For what?"
"For laughing. For pushing it too far. For acting like it was all your fault when it really wasn't." She tightened her arms just a little. "Things went out of control, and we turned you into the punchline."
Vario let out a slow breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "I mean… I did mess up."
"Yeah," Nyx admitted. "But not enough to deserve that." She lifted her head to look at him. "You didn't mean to ruin everyone's uniforms. You didn't mean for anything to spiral."
He glanced away. "Still felt like everyone was against me."
Nyx nodded. "I know. And that's on us."
Another quiet moment passed. The clock ticked on. Outside, a car horn echoed faintly and disappeared.
Vario finally spoke again. "I try to laugh things off. That's kind of my thing. But today…" He shrugged. "It stung."
Nyx didn't joke this time. She just hugged him again, firmer, grounding. "You don't always have to play it cool, you know."
He gave a small, tired smile. "Coming from you, that's rich."
She huffed softly. "Hey, even chaos gremlins have standards."
That earned a quiet chuckle from him.
They stayed like that for a while—no rush, no need to fill the silence. Just sitting together, letting the weight of the day finally settle and fade.
Eventually, Nyx leaned back against the couch. "Tomorrow's probably going to be another mess."
Vario nodded. "Yeah. Probably."
"But," she added, nudging his shoulder lightly, "we'll deal with it. Together."
He looked at her, really looked at her, and nodded once. "Thanks. For saying sorry."
Nyx smirked faintly, the familiar spark returning—but softer now. "Don't get used to it."
Vario laughed quietly.
For the first time since the uniforms turned to ash, the day finally felt over.