The light hum of the arena buzzed in the background, blending with the chatter of lingering fans and the soft rustling of paper bags filled with Horizon merch. The rush had died down. Most of the merchandise was gone now—shirts, wristbands, keychains. Only a few scattered items remained on the table.
Dirga carefully folded a shirt and placed it on the last neat pile.
"Well… you can go, Dirga," Ayaka said gently, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear as she scanned the near-empty booth.
Dirga paused, hands on the edge of the table.
They'd been standing side by side for twenty minutes—quietly working, occasionally brushing elbows, occasionally sharing glances. But the silence had become more comfortable than awkward. It was something warm, something unsaid.
"I can't just leave you to clean all this up alone," he said, half-heartedly trying to convince both of them. "You set this up. I should help you finish."
