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Ethan Who on the wooden surface, chin resting against them as he stared blankly out the window. His mind was elsewhere—specifically, on tomorrow.
Samantha.
The date.
He exhaled slowly, scratching the side of his cheek. "What am I even doing?"
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, light and familiar. He glanced up and there she was—Alice—carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and a plate of warm croissants, the steam still curling into the morning air with shaky legs
"You really spaced out there," she said with a soft smile, sliding the tray onto the table. "Thinking about something important?"
He raised a brow. "Yeah… You could say that."
Alice sat across from him and nudged a cup toward him. "Here. Mom made your usual. Thought you might need it."
Ethan blinked, then gave a small smile as he wrapped his hands around the warm mug. "Thanks."
They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks and chewing through flaky pastries. Outside the windows, the quiet morning grew brighter. Inside the kitchen, Alice's parents peeked through the half-open door, watching the two.
"It's like yesterday all over again," her dad murmured, arms crossed, voice low and nostalgic.
Her mom chuckled softly. "Those two, always in trouble. Remember when they tried to bake a cake for my birthday?"
"The kitchen nearly exploded."
They both laughed, warmth in their voices, even as they slipped back behind the door to give the two some space.
Back at the table, Alice leaned forward, resting her elbows on the surface.
"So... what's been on your mind lately?" she asked, her voice light but curious.
Ethan shrugged, eyes trailing over the rim of his mug. "Just… thinking about a lot of things. The usual."
Alice narrowed her eyes just a little. "Mmm. That vague kind of answer. Sounds like you're hiding something."
He gave a casual smirk. "I'm always hiding something."
"Right," she said, rolling her eyes. "Mister mysterious as always."
They talked a while longer—about normal things. Nothing world-ending, nothing dramatic. Just… two people who knew each other for a long time, catching up over coffee. She didn't ask about his recent disappearance, or the weight in his eyes. Maybe she didn't want to press. Maybe she knew he'd tell her in time. Or maybe… she had things of her own she wasn't saying.
After finishing breakfast, Ethan stood and gave her a half wave. "Thanks. Really."
Alice smiled gently, walking him to the door. "Don't be a stranger. And tell my mom I didn't burn the croissants this time."
"I'll think about it."
He stepped outside into the early morning breeze, his coat fluttering behind him. With a sigh, he made his way back to his apartment.
The door clicked shut behind him, and silence returned.
He flopped onto the couch, arms spread wide, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts bounced again—this time, to next week. Saturday.
"Should probably return to Orario soon," he muttered.
It'd been peaceful here for a bit. Too peaceful. He hadn't forgotten. His job in Danmachi wasn't done. Not even close. And then there was that damn question still echoing in his mind—
Who the hell sent me to Frozen?
He clenched his fist, but then let out a slow exhale.
"No point in overthinking right now."
He sat up and turned toward his computer. Time for a little mindless distraction.
Click. Click. BOOM.
The FPS game lit up the screen, and Ethan leaned in with a predator's focus. His hands flew across the keyboard, mouse clicking furiously. Thanks to his enhanced reflexes, he wasn't just good—he was terrifying.
"HEADSHOT!"
Another kill.
"DOUBLE KILL!"
He chuckled darkly as he sprinted across the map. His poor enemies didn't stand a chance. He was popping heads before they even rounded the corner.
The in-game voice chat erupted.
"Yo, this dude's hacking! There's no way!"
"Report him!"
"Bro, he pre-fired every angle. That's not skill."
Ethan leaned into his mic, smirking. "Nah, you're just trash."
A chorus of angry reactions followed.
"Man, who even says that anymore—"
"Imagine spawn camping in 2025!"
Still, Ethan kept at it, hunting them down the second they respawned. He didn't even let them breathe. After one last ridiculous sequence of kills, the enemy team just… quit.
Rage quit.
He snorted and leaned back, satisfied. "Welp. That was fun."
But just as he was about to queue up again, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen.
Samantha:
"Hey~ Just wanted to remind you about tomorrow! Looking forward to it 💕"
His fingers paused.
Then he smiled faintly and typed back:
Ethan:
"Don't be late. I'll pick you up at 10."
She replied immediately.
Samantha:
"Roger that, Captain 🫡 Can't wait 💖"
He dropped the phone onto the bed and stretched out. Tomorrow was going to be… interesting.
Then his game queue popped again. New match.
He clicked "ready."
"Alright," he muttered, fingers cracking. "Let's ruin more dreams."
This time, the enemy team didn't know what hit them. One guy, in particular, kept getting dunked on—over and over.
"Bro… why are you doing this to me?" came a broken voice through the mic.
Ethan paused, a little guilt creeping in.
"2 kills. 15 deaths. Zero assists?" Ethan said, reading the scoreboard. "Damn. Even your team's flaming you."
The kid sighed.
"I just wanted to have fun today…"
Ethan held back a laugh.
"Maybe uninstall," he said… then hesitated. "Or, uh, I dunno. Practice bots first?"
The kid rage quit. Again.
Ethan raised a brow. "Okay, maybe I went too far…"
Still… he was having fun. For now, the chaos of other worlds could wait.
Tomorrow was a date.
And next week… it was time to go back to Danmachi.
---
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