Shay woke up from a nightmare. Nothing new.

  She was crying. Her pillow was wet and gross. Her nightmares weren’t usually that bad.

  It made sense why that was, though. The day before... was... probably the worst of her life. Maybe. It was up there. Top five.

  The lights through her blinds-- unwelcome and annoying vertical stripes of darkness and too-bright brightness, meant it was already well past morning.

  bleigh~

  She barely had time to yawn or stretch when she heard a knock at her door. It might have been a second set of knocks. She faintly remembered knocking as she was waking up.

  Yeonha was probably lonely again. That was... fine, actually.

  “C-coming,” she said.

  Hanging out with Yeonha always made her feel better.

  Shay got up. She put on her house slippers. She fixed herself a little bit... and she went for the door.

  Her hand felt strangely empty. She opened and closed her fingers, but the feeling of missing something didn’t go away.

  That was so weird...

  mUh~ UahhHh. Shay yawned again. And once she unlocked the door, she swung it wide open to say hello to--

  to...

  Huh. Not Yeonha.

  It was... Tyvan?

  “Good morning.”

  “Uhhhhh...”

  Shay stared blankly into his wonderful hazel eyes, at his gently flowing silver hair... at his powerful frame under his silky and thin, buttoned longsleeve-- those muscular shoulders revealed by his green, sleeveless vest.

  Mmmmm...

  Ah....

  Hah?

  Shay looked down. AH! At herself!

  She was still in her pajamas!

  WHY was she in her pajamas!?

  And they weren’t even sexy pajamas. They were cheap, faded blue, comic-book-character pajamas.

  But was that okay? It should have been okay! Sleeping clothes were supposed to make men go crazy!

  Was that enough to make Tyvan look at her with lustful eyes and aTtack her?

  He reached forward.

  Oh, no. She wasn’t ready! Her undies. Did they match?

  Tyvan smoothed out her hair. Oh. He wasn’t wearing gloves like he usually did. That was nice. Ohhh, so niiiice~ She leaned into his touch.

  “Shay,” he said. “I’d like to invite you for a meal--”

  “I’ll go anywhere with you,” Shay sighed. Oh. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Who’s going?”

  “You-- hopefully. And... me.”

  Shay immediately hugged him tight. Oh-- what was she doing? She pulled back, hopping up and down. “I just-- I need to change! Five minutes-- no, ten! Just forty minutes and I’ll be ready!”

  “Please.” Tyvan held up his palm. “Take your time. We’ll leave closer to lunch.”

  Wait.

  Really?

  Shay’s breath hitched in her throat.

  Something was wrong.

  Whenever Tyvan talked about getting food, they always left right away!

  “Tyvan... am-- am I still dreaming?” she said, “All the bad things that happened last night...?”

  Tyvan lifted his head and nodded slowly... “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “...Vampires trying to attack ?The Kingdom?,” she said in a flat tone.

  "Generally inconsequential,” Tyvan said calmly.

  Shay frowned suspiciously. That... didn’t make her feel better, at all. “Is Raia okay? And... what about Monty’s arm?”

  “She’ll live. And concerning Mister Jiang... even after magical healing, he’s been advised to wear his sling some time longer.”

  Shay reeled back, her hand against her forehead. The bad things that happened-- they really did! Crap.

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  “Wait-- and why are we planning for lunch instead of just... going??”

  Tyvan looked at her thoughtfully. “Because you’re not properly dressed for an outing.”

  Shay felt her cheeks heating up-- “Be-SIDES that!”

  “A moment,” Tyvan said. He took a golden pocket watch out of his pocket. (Where else would he put it?) --and he flipped it open. “In approximately twelve minutes, the food channel will be hosting a comprehensive anthology on barbecued meats.”

  Oh.

  ......Yeah, that made sense.

  “You’re welcome to join me,” he added.

  “I’m... gonna go get ready now,” Shay said. “I’ll head over when I’m finished.”

  “Dress casually. And mind the weather; sunscreen is appropriate.”

  It was a warm day. And Tyvan’s concern warmed Shay’s heart too.

  “Sounds good! I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  Tyvan’s expectations were well met by the series of informative presentations on barbecue, barbecue history, and relevant culture.

  Thus, he was bitterly displeased to have his precious research interrupted.

  Hrrm. Nonetheless, Tyvan was well aware that being a consummate professional was not without sacrifice.

  And so... he answered the intercom in his apartment with a reasonable amount of alacrity. “Good morning, ?afiyya.”

  “Mister Valorum? Err-- sorry, Boss. It’s me?”

  Tyvan took a moment to focus on remaining calm. The voice of Briar Rose was not what he wished to hear. But... he should not have been surprised. There was exactly one type of order she consistently had difficulty following.

  “I believe I told you to take the day off.”

  “I’m-- I’m fine now, Boss!” she responded hurriedly. “Really! I can work! Um-- I’m sorry? Don’t be mad? I mean-- working makes me feel better! Yeah-- that’s it!”

  “Get to the point, my dear. Please.”

  If Briar Rose merely wanted to converse, he’d gladly acquiesce. She had improved in recent years, but she remained a shy and reticent child.

  Likely, a situation had arisen requiring his attention.

  “Sect Master Song called, sir. Uh-- he said his estate has been attacked. And everyone he’s sent to fight off the challengers--”

  “--That’s... that’s enough,” Tyvan sighed. He’d already recognised the problem. “Briar Rose, did you advise Sect Master Song that the formations only protect his people if they remain inside them?”

  “I... did, sir.”

  Tyvan thought for a moment... “Call him back. Inform him that the formations are stronger, the more numerous the friendly cultivators within the boundaries.”

  The intercom went silent for a moment... “D’you really think that’s gonna work?”

  “The formations remain functional, regardless. I hope this solution alleviates the lack of user education.”

  Tyvan immediately returned to his couch and television-- but was met with a confusing sight. The discussion topic had changed to a barbecue sauce with... vinegar as the base. Did the channel change when he wasn’t looking? ...Was Yeonha playing a prank on him?

  Vinegar? Really?

  Bah.

  Food was supposed to be a source of comfort. He’d been anxious lately-- under an arguably non-fictitious, ?Oracle?-based threat that promised moderate vexation.

  Then, from the reports of Briar Rose and Bastion, Shay’s morale had also dropped to a concerning low.

  Sharing a meal was appropriate to lift both their spirits.

  Also, he enjoyed Shay’s company. Hm. Had he made her aware of that?

  Conversely, she did not need to be made aware of her grandfather’s difficulties. Whatever was attacking the Song Estate, whether it was vampires or celestial beings, the city would fall before his formations.

  It was not Shay’s purview to fret over the well-being of ?The Kingdom? and its denizens.

  It was his.

  She arrived at his apartment for the last twenty minutes of the barbecue anthology-- by which time, Tyvan had mostly lost interest.

  (The program was serious about the vinegar.)

  Shay was dressed comfortably, in a simple and winsome aesthetic: jeans and a cotton shirt. The shirt had... three, blue, horizontal stripes. Interesting... but overall pleasant to look at.

  But...

  “Why aren’t you wearing a belt?”

  “Uh... I... I don’t own a belt.”

  Tyvan narrowed his eyes. How... had he not been informed of that fact, prior?

  He retrieved one of his lesser-used belts, crafted in a woven-leather style and appropriate for casual wear. As it had an irregular design, he took the liberty of wrapping it around her waist.

  “Why are you holding your breath?”

  “I-- uh. Ah. Thanks. Thank you.”

  It was a peculiar interaction.

  Time spent with Shay always yielded a number of peculiar, but amusing interactions.

  Anyroad, she suggested they have barbecue for lunch-- a lovely idea. Tyvan harked back to a memory of a suitable restaurant he and his mother had patronised in the past. (He remembered his father also being there, but that wasn’t as important.)

  Conversing about mundane trivialities was quite nice. Shay’s spirits seemed to rise as predictably as he’d hoped.

  By the time they were in his car, en route to their destination, she’d returned to her regular demeanor-- nigh overwhelming.

  “So, I was thinking!”

  “Most excellent.” Tyvan nodded in approval.

  Often was the mind filled with thoughts. And self-realisation of that fact was a first and necessary step for the complexities of higher theories.

  “We have to layer up Elysium’s defenses!” Shay said, “We can put wooden barriers up? --like in old-timey castles, but instead of spikes, Heidi and I can put up a bunch of garlic wreaths.”

  Oh, that was clever.

  “I’ve always fancied a moat,” Tyvan added. “Ah, and we must have a drawbridge. Contemporary architects may believe them to be somewhat gauche, but I heartily disagree.”

  “ALSO,” Shay went on, “we could get a priest to bless the area! I remember seeing a job offering for a bible study, so a priest probably lives within driving distance.”

  “The gentleman lives in the complex. Ah-- we haven’t had an Elysian gathering for some time. Perhaps we should plan one for the summer solstice?”

  Shay’s expression fell, conveying an emotion Tyvan had difficulty identifying. He sensed it wasn’t positive.

  What was it about their conversation, not to her liking?

  *The night before.*

  Yeonha - “Behold: the. most alluring. most... seductive. pajama pants.”

  Yeonha - “...”

  Yeonha - “Should... I--”

  Tyvan - “No, you may not dress Shay in clothes that are not her own.”