Kei opened his eyes to something shocking.
Silence.
No shouting, no glass shattering, no demonic declarations of doom or demands for cookies. Just… silence. Peaceful, almost suspiciously peaceful silence.
He sat up in bed, listening. Nothing.
A slow blink. "Am I dead?"
"Nope," Nebu muttered from beneath her fortress of blankets in the corner. "Just Tuesday. They call a truce on Tuesdays."
"...They what?"
She gave a sleepy thumbs-up, then promptly returned to her slumber.
Kei shuffled to the kitchen, expecting something to crash the moment he touched the kettle.
But instead…
The table was set. Not just clean—but actually set. Plates. Cutlery. Orange juice in a pitcher. Waffles, fresh and golden. Eggs. Fruit. Coffee. Everything.
He froze. "Who are you people and what have you done with the Sins?"
Rika looked up from her seat, halfway through a protein bar. "Mav said we should try a 'stable routine.' Said it might improve 'collective productivity.' Whatever the hell that means."
Mavira, sitting with her sleeves rolled and calculator in hand, nodded. "Work-life balance is a lie. But breakfast metrics were low across the board. So here we are."
Vel, in a frilly apron she obviously wore just to annoy someone, blew Kei a kiss. "Welcome to the new domestic age, darling. Shall I pour you juice or my heart?"
"Coffee," Kei said flatly.
Aris was sipping from a porcelain cup like royalty. "This is an exercise in civilization. Do not ruin it."
"I haven't even said anything."
"You were thinking ruin."
Tobi came in from the garden, carrying a basket of herbs and three tomatoes in her hoodie. "Morning, everyone! I made jam!"
"You make jam now?" Kei asked.
"Gluttony doesn't mean garbage," she said cheerfully. "It means appreciation. You'll taste the love."
Aera waltzed in late, hair tied up, no disguises today. "Sorry. Had to pick the right outfit for this weird breakfast cult."
She sat next to Kei and nudged him. "You look well-rested."
"Probably because no one teleported me in my sleep or started a fire in the laundry room."
"Yet," she said, smirking.
---
After breakfast, something even stranger happened.
They all cleaned.
Not chaotically. Not grudgingly. Just… cooperatively.
Kei swept the hall with Tobi humming beside him, dustpan in hand.
"Is this what normal people do?" Kei asked.
Tobi grinned. "Feels weird, huh?"
"I keep expecting the ceiling to collapse."
"Oh, don't jinx it. That happened last Thursday."
---
In the living room, Aris sat with a clipboard, quizzing Kei on eye contact and posture as he practiced talking in front of a mirror.
"Do not slouch."
"I'm not slouching, I'm tired."
"Same thing. Sloth is contagious. Resist."
From the corner, Nebu muttered, "Slander."
Meanwhile, Rika pulled Kei into a workout once she saw him standing still for more than ten seconds.
"One push-up. Just one."
"No."
"Half."
"Still no."
"Plank for ten seconds."
"Fine."
He lasted seven.
She nodded in approval anyway. "Progress."
---
By late afternoon, Kei actually smiled. Not a sarcastic smirk or a tired sigh. A real, genuine smile. The house buzzed—not with chaos, but with rhythm. Harmony. Some strange, cozy rhythm of supernatural roommates and one exhausted human.
That's when he saw it.
On a shelf behind Nebu's napsack pile, wedged between cookbooks and a cracked hourglass, was an old, faded portrait.
Kei frowned, stepped closer.
It showed seven people—women, dressed strangely, wearing old robes or dresses from a time he couldn't place. But their faces…
The resemblance was uncanny. It was them.
But not exactly.
Younger. Softer, somehow. Their eyes were less burdened. Aris didn't have her sharp, judgmental gaze. Rika looked relaxed, almost peaceful. Even Aera… smiled without that bitter curve of envy.
And in the corner of the frame, written in a curling, faded script:
"Year 302. Final gathering before the Fall."
Kei's breath hitched.
He glanced toward the kitchen, where the girls were laughing—Vel teasing Mav, Tobi helping Nebu stack cookies, Aera pretending not to care but listening in. Aris correcting Rika's grammar mid-shout.
They weren't just demons.
They were once people.
And they'd lived for far, far longer than they let on.
Kei slid the portrait back into place, heart hammering. He didn't mention it. Not yet.
But the way he looked at them changed.
And as if she sensed it, Aris paused mid-lecture, looking over her shoulder. Her eyes met his.
Just for a moment.
Something passed between them. Not words. Not questions.
Just understanding.
That night, Kei stood on the balcony with a blanket draped over his shoulders, sipping warm tea.
Vel joined him, stretching lazily. "You're thinking too loud again."
"Can't help it."
"Want me to flirt it out of you?"
He chuckled. "Not this time."
She leaned on the railing. "It's weird, huh? How we're all just… here. Together. Like this."
"It doesn't feel like a curse anymore," Kei said quietly. "Not always."
"Then we're doing something right." She bumped her shoulder into his. "Don't go ruining it with questions."
Kei didn't respond. He just looked at the stars.
Somewhere deep inside, the reset button no longer felt so tempting.
He didn't want to go back anymore.
Even if things got stranger.
Especially if they did