Leo woke to gradual awareness instead of the usual anxious jolt. Just surfacing, like coming up from deep water into morning light.
The soreness was there. His ribs were bruised from yesterday's tournament. His shoulders were stiff. His muscles ached with every small movement. But beneath the ache was something else, a different kind of exhaustion. The good kind. Earned through living, not just surviving.
Last night played back in fragments. The city alive with evening energy. Iori laughing as she pulled him through crowds. Street performers juggling fire and projecting illusions. The pulse of celebration everywhere. Music loud enough to feel in his chest. Food he couldn't name but devoured anyway. Strangers dancing, and Leo joining them without the usual overthinking.
"Be part of it," Iori had said. "Get into the experience."
He had. For the first time since transmigrating, he had stopped calculating risks and just lived.
