The hideout was supposed to be a base. A secret stronghold. A place for strategy, meetings, and plans that decided the course of their next moves. That was how Roy always pictured it in his head.
But when he stepped through the hallway that day, the illusion shattered.
Shoes—tiny ones, scuffed and muddy—were lined up by the wall in messy rows. Some had been left tipped over completely, socks stuffed half inside as though their owners had sprinted off mid-change. A jacket far too small for anyone on the team was hanging crookedly from the rack, and a scattering of colourful trinkets littered the table.
The hideout didn't look like a base anymore. It looked like a home. A messy, lived-in, chaotic home.
Roy blinked, standing at the threshold for a long moment. What the hell…?!
He pushed the door open, the familiar creak giving way to a chorus of squeals and laughter.
Inside, Kieran was down on all fours, his hands and knees planted firmly on the floor. His expression was one of suffering and begrudging patience, his jaw clenched as he crawled slowly across the rug. Perched on his back like conquering heroes were two children—Mella, her long hair tied in uneven pigtails, and Rin, whose grin stretched ear to ear.
"Faster! Faster!" Rin shouted, tugging at Kieran's shirt like reins.
"Giddy-up! Go, go, go!" Mella chimed in, giggling uncontrollably as she bounced on his back.
Kieran groaned. "You two are heavy! And I'm not a horse!"
"Yes, you are!" they shouted in unison, their voices carrying the unshakeable authority of children at play.
Roy stood in the doorway, staring blankly at the sight before him. This wasn't what he expected to find when he returned to the hideout.
A laugh almost slipped from him—almost. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, deadpan as ever. "...What am I looking at?"
Kieran shot him a glare from the floor, sweat beading on his temple. "Don't just stand there—help me!"
"Help you? You look like you're having fun," Roy replied, his tone as dry as dust.
That earned another round of squeals from Mella and Rin. "Roy! Roy, come play too!" Mella shouted, waving her arms excitedly.
Roy blinked. Him? Play? He couldn't remember the last time someone had said those words to him without irony. For a moment, he didn't know how to respond.
He scratched the back of his neck, muttering, "...I'll pass. You've already got your horse."
Rin leaned over Kieran's shoulder, pointing at Roy accusingly. "No! You can be the carriage! Or the dragon! Or—or the bad guy we fight!"
Kieran coughed, wheezing from the weight of the two kids. "Yeah, Roy. Be the bad guy. I could use the rescue."
Roy's lips twitched. The scene was ridiculous, so normal it felt out of place in their world. And yet, a small part of him… wanted in. He didn't say it, but he wanted to laugh too. He wanted to feel that kind of careless fun, the kind that didn't demand survival or strength or sacrifice.
Instead, he sighed. "Alright, that's enough," he said, stepping inside and setting his bag down.
Both kids groaned in protest. "Nooo!"
But Roy walked over and plucked Rin right off Kieran's back with one hand, dangling him like a kitten. Rin squirmed, laughing and kicking his legs, while Kieran collapsed face-first into the floor with a groan of relief. Roy then scooped Mella under his arm, ignoring her playful protests, and stood there holding both children like sacks of grain.
"You two are always cooped up in here, huh?" Roy said, his voice softer now. "C'mon. Let's go outside."
"Outside?" Mella tilted her head. "But Kieran said—"
"Kieran says a lot of things," Roy interrupted smoothly. "Besides, fresh air won't kill you. You'll like it."
Kieran lifted his head weakly from the rug, glaring. "Don't drag me into this…"
But Roy didn't wait. He carried Mella and Rin out the door, their laughter echoing down the hallway as they wiggled in his grip, half-protesting and half-cheering.
Outside, the world was golden with late afternoon light. The market square was just beyond, buzzing with life, but Roy led them instead to the quieter side streets. A stray cat darted past, catching the children's attention instantly. Mella squealed and wriggled free, chasing after it with eager steps, while Rin tugged at Roy's sleeve, pointing at the bakery window with wide eyes.
Roy sighed but bought them each a pastry anyway, handing over the coins without complaint. Watching them sit on the steps, crumbs scattering as they ate happily, he felt something loosen in his chest.
For the first time in a while, Roy wasn't sure if he wanted to be the observer, standing apart. For the first time, he wanted to play too.
He didn't say it out loud. He just sat down beside them, the warmth of the sun on his back, and thought to himself, 'Maybe this isn't so boring after all.'