Lu

Dinner, dinner, dinner.

Wait, she can eat anything we give her, right? The restrictions are for younger kids?

Probably the better question is what she will want to eat. I was quite picky as a kid.

I pick up all the things we have left in our supplies and lay them out on the table.

“What do you think?” I ask Io.

“We ran out of bread” She comments.

That’s probably the reality for anyone in the city right now.

“Well we still have some smoked meat, you think she will like it?” Io asks me

“Why don’t we ask her?” That seems like the simplest way to do this, no guesswork.

“Hey Lu, come and see what you want.” Io turns around and says to the girl.

She gets up from the bed and sheepishly moves to the table.

“Is there something you like?” I ask her

She takes a look and pics up a potato.

I like this kid.

She inspects it with curiosity. She’s probably one of the first people here to see a potato.

“Oh, that’s a potato. But we have to cook it first. Do you want to try it?” I say

A nod yes

“I will take these for now. You can pick something else and I will bake them.” I continue

I pick up all the potatoes and bring them close to the heart. I start preparing the fire. Might as well boil some water for later. We still have some here in the room.

###

The face Nate made when Lu picked up that potato...

He was practically glowing.

Let's see if she even likes it before you get all smug about it, I think to myself, smiling despite everything.

We settle at the table.

The food is plain — whatever smoked or dried food we still have.

Nate’s still fussing over near the hearth.

"Want me to leave you something?" I ask, watching him half-crouched by the fire.

"Don’t worry. I’ll find something later," he replies without looking up.

His voice is light, casual — but... different somehow.

More open? More aware of someone else's needs before his own?

Maybe it's just the situation. Maybe it's... something changing.

I glance at Lu.

She’s methodically setting aside part of her food — pushing a small pile to the edge of her bowl with careful fingers.

"You setting this aside?" I ask gently.

She nods. Silent, serious.

"For… Nate?" I guess.

Another nod.

"You don't have to worry, Lu," Nate says, finally turning to face us, a soft grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Eat as much as you want."

His voice — it’s different when he talks to her.

Less of that dry edge, more warmth.

When did he get so good at this?

We return to eating.

Nate manages to convince Lu to nibble at the potatoes.

She's slow, deliberate — like she’s waiting for someone to snatch them away.

How many times did she have to give up her food to someone else?

The thought makes something twist sharply inside me.

My reflections are interrupted by a sudden clatter from the street — shouting, boots on cobblestone.

I immediately rise halfway out of my chair, heart in my throat.

Instinct. Always be ready to run.

I peer through the dusty window, careful not to show my face.

"Some soldiers. They’re heading toward the center," I say, forcing my voice to stay calm.

"They’re gone now."

Nate’s already up too — tense, watching me for confirmation.

Only when I nod does he relax a little and crouch back by the fire.

I return to the table.

But Lu…

She’s curled in on herself — arms wrapped tight around her knees, small frame trembling slightly on the chair.

My chest aches at the sight.

"Hey, it’s okay," I say softly, crossing the room and kneeling beside her.

"They left. You're safe."

Maybe she needs a hug?

That's what you do with scared kids, right? That's what I did before... and it seemed to help... right?

I wrap my arms around her, trying to be gentle, not too tight.

I feel her stiffen for a moment — then slowly, gradually, she relaxes against me.

Still, I can’t help but doubt myself.

Am I even doing this right?

Nothing about this feels natural or easy.

I’m second-guessing every move — every word.

Meanwhile, Nate handles her like he’s been doing it for years — easy, patient, steady.

I should be grateful.

Instead, a small, irrational part of me stings with jealousy.

Isn't this supposed to be easier for me?

Isn't that what everyone always says?

I hold Lu tighter, breathing her in — the faint scent of dust and old wool.

Forget easy. Forget what people say.

This isn't about being perfect. It's about being here.

###

The potatoes were a success!

Another soul joins the secret society of potato connoisseurs. I’ll take my victories where I can get them.

The fire’s burned down low. We managed to stash some leftovers. Even have a little hot water warming by the hearth.

"It's still quite early, huh," I say, settling at the table with the girls.

Huh. The girls.

That’s new.

Io and I sit opposite each other.

Lu’s between us — small, serious, but smiling.

The kind of smile you have to earn.

Outside, the city hums — still tense, still dangerous — but in here, it almost feels like... peace.

Too early to sleep.

And Lu’s nap pretty much killed that idea anyway.

I glance at Io across the table.

"Any ideas what we should do?"

She looks at Lu, thoughtful.

The girl swings her legs a little under the chair, absentminded, still smiling.

The noise from outside rises and falls — distant boots, shouting, carts creaking over stones.

We need a distraction. Something normal.

"How did the two of you meet?" I ask, trying to keep it light.

Even if Lu doesn’t talk, I want her to feel included — not like we’re just talking over her.

Lu looks at me, then turns to Io, waiting.

Io picks it up without missing a beat.

"Actually, we bumped into Lu once before, didn’t we?"

She turns it into a question for Lu — an invitation, not a lecture.

Smart.

Lu nods, quick and shy, her hair bouncing with the motion.

"Oh, we did?" I widen my eyes, raising an eyebrow. Might as well lean into it — kids like funny faces, right?

Io smirks — okay, maybe a little too much acting.

Worth it.

“She ran into us — well, your leg, to be precise — back on the church square," Io says, nudging me with a foot under the table.

I gasp, mock scandalized.

"So it was you!"

I reach out instinctively, aiming to ruffle her hair —

— and she flinches.

Shit.

I freeze immediately.

"Sorry," I say quickly, pulling my hand back.

Lu looks at me, blinking, then after a heartbeat — slowly — leans her head back toward me.

I get to ruffle her hair after all.

Gentle. Careful.

Trust is like glass. One wrong move and you lose it.

We spend the next little while wrapped up in what you could almost call a conversation.

Mostly me and Io, swapping simple stories — how we got to the city, the inn, the wool merchant, the bard.

Things that sound so mundane when you live them...

But when you tell them to someone who listens like it’s all magic?

You realize how much story there really is.

Lu’s head turns back and forth, following every word, eyes wide.

I catch Io smiling once or twice — real smiles, the kind that don't need translation.

Little by little, the shadows stretch across the floor.

Outside, the city noise fades to a low murmur.

It’s getting late.

Time to figure out how to handle bedtime... somehow.

###

"How do we handle… the bath?" I ask Io quietly, glancing sideways at the kid.

After everything today — running, squeezing through crowds, streets packed with dirt and whatever else — a bath seemed more than reasonable.

It also feels completely terrifying.

"I don't know," Io mutters, lowering her voice and tilting her head subtly toward Lu.

"Wouldn't it be... weird? Having her here?"

"But..." She sighs, brushing some hair behind her ear.

"She probably needs it more than we do."

"It’s the responsible thing," I say.

"Right?"

"I guess," Io answers, dragging out the words like they leave a bad taste.

Neither of us moves for a long second.

Finally, Io sighs. "I should do it. You know. For... obvious reasons."

No argument there. We both know it.

Still, the thought of handling this was enough to make us both feel like imposters playing dress-up as adults.

"Maybe we should ask her first. See if she even wants to," I suggest.

"We can try," Io says, tiredly.

Yeah, I get it. We’re both flying blind here.

While Io walks over to Lu, I grab the small washbasin and start pouring in the warm water I’d heated earlier.

It’s not much — just enough to sit in and scrub the grime away — but it’s something.

Io crouches next to Lu.

"So... do you wanna take a bath?" she asks, stumbling a little over the words.

"We... have warm water. It's nice. You wanna try it?"

Yeah. I feel a lot better about my own awkwardness hearing hers.

Lu pads over to the basin, peeking inside curiously.

I crouch next to her and dip my hand into the water, swirling it around.

"See? It's warm. Not too hot."

Lu tentatively copies me, her small hand breaking the surface of the water.

She giggles — a real one — when she feels the warmth.

Io edges closer too.

From the outside, it must look like we’re worshiping the world's most fascinating puddle.

"So... uh... you wanna try it?" Io asks.

Lu looks up and gives a tiny nod.

Okay. Progress.

"Alright," Io says, glancing at me over Lu’s head.

"Can you wait a second?"

We both step aside. Lu stays at the basin, poking at her reflection.

"So..." Io hisses in a whisper.

"How do we even do this?"

"I'll leave, like usual," I say.

When it's bath time one of us always gives the other some space”

Io nods, relief flashing across her face.

But fate has other ideas.

BANG.

Both of us jump.

A sharp crack echoes from the street.

People start shouting.

We rush to the window.

"Explosion?" I blurt.

"No... I think someone threw something. Look!" Io points.

There’s shattered wood scattered all across the street below.

Another bang echoes from farther down.

Screams now. Shouts. Running boots.

The city’s getting worse.

Fast.

"...I think you’re staying here," Io says after a second, cheeks going bright red.

I blink.

Was this the first time I ever saw her blush?

"Yeah," I cough awkwardly.

"I’ll, uh, stay. Watch the window. Keep an eye out."

Io nods, grateful but clearly mortified.

She moves back toward Lu, trying to act natural.

Meanwhile, I settle into a seat by the window, feeling like an awkward teenager left in the wrong room at the wrong time.

Is it weird?

Absolutely.

Is it the responsible thing?

Also yes.

Welcome to adulthood, Nate.

You’re doing great.

###

"I'm all done," I say to Io and Lu. As we planned, we took turns with the washbasin.

...Best to just not think too hard about it. Everything about today feels like we got tossed into the deep end without warning.

While I was handling my part, Io must have been playing hairdresser.

Both of them are sitting near the window, heads tilted toward the evening breeze.

Their hair is damp but drying fast — clever.

We don't exactly have towels to spare.

I glance at Lu and try not to chuckle.

The clothes Io managed to find for her look... let's say "creatively mismatched."

But she doesn't seem to mind at all.

Io lights a stubby candle and moves over to the bed, patting the spot next to her.

Lu scampers over happily.

I lean against the wall, arms crossed, feeling like an outsider for a moment.

What now? There's still a little daylight left. Too early to sleep, too late to do much else.

Lu keeps absentmindedly twisting a lock of her hair between her fingers.

That gives me an idea.

"Hey, Lu," I say, crouching down a little to catch her attention.

"You want me to braid your hair?"

Both Io and Lu blink at me like I just offered to wrestle a bear.

"What?" I laugh. "You think I can't?"

Io tilts her head.

"You?"

"That's right," I say, puffing up a little.

"I'll have you know, back when I was younger, I had hair longer than both of you."

"You?" Io says again, skeptical but amused.

"Yep. I was a fan of a certain kind of music... you know, the kind that made you wanna shake your head like crazy."

I give them a little demonstration — a few exaggerated headbanging motions, complete with a fake heavy beat.

Lu giggles.

Io actually lets out a real laugh, covering her mouth a second too late.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead and laugh," I grin.

"But we all had long hair. Whole groups of us would get together, listen to the music, and just... shake it out.

You should've seen it. Looked like a bunch of very confused, angry trees in a storm."

More laughter.

Good. I like this — this warm, simple moment after everything.

"So," I say, reaching out a hand.

"Want me to braid your hair?"

Lu hesitates for a second — shy — then nods and scoots closer.

Alright. Showtime, Nate.

I carefully split her damp hair into three sections. It's been years, but muscle memory is a funny thing.

Working slowly, I start weaving the strands.

"You know," I say while working, keeping my tone casual, "I used to practice different braids just because I was bored. Never thought it would come in handy like this, though."

Io watches from the bed, arms loosely wrapped around her knees.

Her face has that soft, thoughtful look again — the one I keep catching when she thinks I’m not looking.

Lu shifts a little under my hands, curious, but still patient.

After a few more passes, I tie the braid with a bit of twine we kept from some supplies.

"And... done!" I say proudly.

I swing the braid over Lu’s shoulder so she can see.

She grabs it with both hands, eyes wide, mouth open in a delighted little "O."

Then she laughs — really laughs — and does a tiny hop right there on the bed.

Io smiles — an honest, unguarded smile — as Lu proudly shows off the braid to her.

"You did good," Io says, raising an eyebrow at me, teasing.

"Hey," I shrug, playing it off. "Hidden talents."

Lu still beams, patting the braid like it’s some priceless treasure.

Watching her — seeing her laugh, seeing Io relaxed for once —

something tight in my chest eases just a little.

Maybe today wasn’t all bad after all.

###

After what feels like a lifetime crammed into one day, Lu is finally asleep. Tucked up in bed, her breathing small and even.

Io sits at the edge of the mattress, legs folded up neatly. I drag the chair a little closer and sink into it, careful not to make a sound.

For a few minutes, we just... watch her.

This tiny thing who, just hours ago, had no one.

"We did good, right?" I whisper, voice low so I don’t wake her.

"I think so," Io murmurs back. Her eyes don’t leave Lu’s face. "She seems in a better mood, at least."

A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, tired but proud.

"Will we be able to leave tomorrow?" I ask, hesitant.

"I don't k—" Io stops, shakes her head, then says more quietly, "I don't want to think about it right now. Sorry."

"No," I say, reaching out instinctively and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright."

For a second, I panic — Did I overstep? — but then Io leans into the touch, tilting her head slightly to rest against my hand.

The tension melts between us.

The silence is soft now, filled only by Lu’s steady breathing and the faint creaks of the old inn settling into the night.

"We should be proud," I say.

Not just for surviving today, but for being the kind of people who tried.

Io turns her head slightly, still resting against my hand.

"You know..." she says after a moment, voice even quieter, "there’s something I wanted to ask you."

She fidgets a little, like she’s nervous.

"Could you... also do my hair? Like you did for Lu?"

Another blush — barely visible in the candlelight — rises up her cheeks.

I could tease her.

I could make some sarcastic comment about my legendary hairdressing services.

But somehow... it doesn't feel right.

"Sure," I say instead, with a small smile. "Turn around."

She shifts, sitting cross-legged on the bed, and lets her hair fall down her back.

I gently gather it into three loose sections.

It’s a little more tangled than Lu's — but it's Io.

Always a little rough around the edges, never bothering to fuss over herself unless she has to.

"It’s only my second time doing this on someone other than myself," I say lightly as I start weaving.

"Results may vary."

"That’s alright," Io says. There's a softness in her voice I don't hear often. Almost… wistful.

We lapse into a peaceful quiet as I work.

The candle flickers low.

The street noise has finally died down.

It's just the three of us.

And for once, the world outside feels very far away.

"...Do you..." Io starts hesitantly, breaking the silence, "Do you ever think about having kids?"

I freeze for half a heartbeat — good thing she can’t see my face — and then keep braiding.

Why is my heart beating so fast?

"Well..." I start, awkwardly. "Doesn’t everybody?

But I guess you didn't mean everybody."

I take a breath.

Time to be honest.

"When I was younger," I say slowly, "I figured it would be nice, someday. A family. Kids."

I hesitate — do I say it? — and then shrug.

"I thought maybe... three."

"Three?" Io says, surprised.

"Yeah, yeah," I chuckle. "I was young.

Optimistic, maybe."

With only one little Lu to look after, that number already feels like a lot.

"But then..." I trail off, focusing on tying the braid neatly at the end.

"You realize you need the right person for that. A stable life. I didn’t really have either back then.

So it just... slipped away."

Io is quiet for a moment.

Then she says softly, "...It slipped for me, too."

She rests her hands on her knees.

"I threw myself into everything I could," she continues, "working, studying, doing anything that would matter.

And there wasn’t anyone in the village I could see myself with, anyway."

She glances over her shoulder at me.

"You’re the first one who stuck around... and isn’t an idiot."

I huff out a quiet laugh.

"So we’re pretty similar after all," I say.

"I guess so," she murmurs.

I finish the braid and drape it gently over her shoulder.

"Done," I say.

Io catches the end of the braid in her fingers, holding it like it’s something precious.

"Thank you," she whispers, and there's a rawness to it — something bigger than just gratitude for a simple braid.

We sit in the hush for a while longer.

Finally, I say, "You should take the bed. I’ll crash in the chair."

"You sure?" Io asks, glancing back.

"Yeah," I say, stretching out my legs. "Had a lot of practice back at my old job, pulling all-nighters in office chairs."

She gives a small nod, but before I can move away, she says softly, "Nate... come here."

I lean in — and suddenly she wraps her arms around me.

Tight. Fierce.

"You did great today," she whispers against my ear.

"I couldn’t have done it without you."

I squeeze her back, feeling the knot in my chest loosen.

"I couldn’t have done it without you either," I whisper back.

For a long, long moment we stay like that, holding on like the world outside doesn’t exist.

Just three heartbeats in a quiet room.

Just us.