I stirred awake at a snail's pace, as the sunlight slipped through the paper screens in warm golden ribbons across the bed.
The silk sheets felt cool and familiar against my skin, carrying that quiet mix of cherry blossoms and sandalwood that had almost become home to me over the past two weeks.
I blinked a few times, then muttered upward to the air without really thinking.
"Morning, Sys."
[Good morning, Benjamin Mark.]
…Hm. Wasn't it "master" they'd call you at times like this?
[Understood: Good morning, master.]
Ah, no, no. I wasn't trying to say you should… Well, okay, call me that.
[Understood, master.]
The voice in my head was calm, and almost tender now, compared to when I first heard its voice.
I took a deep breath and exhaled. Then I rolled onto my side, only to find something serious that made me froze.
