Laterano had its own way of celebrating special days.
Not with grand parties or parades.
But with organized silence, the scent of freshly baked bread,
and the low hum of an old organ inside the chapel.
That morning, Exu woke up earlier than usual—not out of excitement, but because Lemuen yanked her blanket off without mercy.
"Come on. Today's the annual chapel ceremony. Don't be late," she said, laying out a clean set of clothes.
Exu groaned, writhing like a lazy cocoon.
"Can't special days be rescheduled to nap time instead?"
"If they could, every Sankta would demand it," Lemuen replied with a half-smile, brushing her sister's messy hair in swift, practiced strokes.
Exu finally got up, dressing in the plain white uniform with a high collar and silver embroidery on the sleeves.
She didn't like the outfit. Too formal.
But today, every child in Laterano would be dressed the same.
The Laterano chapel rose like a secret gathering place for stars.
Tall white pillars split the morning light into golden shafts across the cold stone floor.
Mostima was already seated in the third row from the front.
Fiammetta sat far back, two rows from the entrance.
Exu waved at both of them before settling beside Mostima.
"I almost ran away earlier," Exu whispered.
Mostima didn't turn her head. "You're too lazy to run away."
Exu grinned. "But I'm not too lazy for cake later."
Mostima slowly turned to her. "You came to the chapel for cake?"
"Absolutely."
A faint smile tugged at Mostima's lips. "You're brutally honest."
The children's choir began singing Laterano's sacred hymn—
soft, slow, like a lullaby sung by clouds.
A few kids fought to stay awake.
But the atmosphere was calm.
Not forced. Just... peaceful.
After the ceremony, all the children were guided to the chapel's rear garden.
Long tables awaited, adorned with cakes baked by the Sisters and sweet breads reserved for the annual celebration.
Fiammetta picked up a slice of chocolate cake and stood by the fountain.
Mostima sat beneath a small tree, slowly nibbling her piece.
Exu zipped from one table to another, sampling everything.
"I love this one! Oh wait, this is good too!"
She shoved a bite into Mostima's mouth, uninvited.
Mostima said nothing.
But she didn't resist either.
She chewed thoughtfully, then pointed at a small cheesecake.
"Try that one. It's soft."
"A delicious collaboration," Exu said, taking two and handing one over.
From a distance, Fiammetta watched them.
Her eyes were calm, but her fingers gripped her fork a bit too tightly.
She looked over as Lemuen approached from the chapel.
"That girl... never runs out of energy," Lemuen commented, glancing at Exu now giggling on a bench.
Fiammetta nodded. "She... fits here too well."
"Why does that sound like a complaint?"
Fiammetta paused. Then answered, "I don't know.
Sometimes I think—if she weren't a Sankta, maybe she could be freer."
"Hm...
But maybe because she is a Sankta, she makes this place feel more alive."
Fiammetta didn't reply.
But she kept looking at Exu—longer than before.
By late afternoon, most of the children had returned to their dorms or homes.
Exu and Mostima still sat on the chapel steps.
"Mosti, did you like today?"
Mostima gave a small nod. "The voices... weren't loud today."
Exu looked at her, then leaned against her shoulder.
"If those voices come back, I'll sing louder to drown them out."
Mostima didn't answer.
But her hand reached up—gently touching the edge of Exu's halo.
"It's... warm," she said softly.
"Of course. My halo's friendly."
"If I ever lose mine... would you still stay close?"
Exu turned.
"You don't need to lose it.
But if you did... I'd stay even closer."
"Why?"
"Because someone who's fallen to the ground is easier to walk beside."
Mostima looked up at the sky.
"Sometimes I envy you."
"You've got cool stuff too. Like—your eyes can see things I can't."
"Like what?"
"Sadness."
Mostima turned to her.
Stared for a long time.
But said nothing.
Because sometimes...
Silence is the best answer.
That night, Exu and Lemuen sat on their small balcony, sipping warm tea and nibbling leftover cake.
"You ate a lot today," Lemuen said, sipping gently.
"I had to. It's tradition. A moral duty."
Lemuen laughed.
"Mostima seems calmer lately."
Exu nodded. "Because she knows... she's not alone."
Lemuen looked at Exu quietly. "Do you say that to everyone?"
"No.
Only to the ones who matter."
"You know, sometimes I'm scared you're growing up too fast."
Exu looked up. "I'm not growing.
I'm just moving forward."
Lemuen smiled.
"Then move slowly, okay?"
Exu smiled back.
"If I ever start running... promise you'll chase me."
And the night ended with the quiet hum of Laterano's crickets,
and a sky as clean as an unwritten page.