the chaos returns...for now

I woke to the smell of something sweet—baking sugar and citrus, maybe, with a faint undercurrent of vanilla. Light filtered softly through the curtains, golden and dappled, dancing across the white canopy of my bed. For a moment, I wasn't sure where I was. My fingers clutched at the silken sheets, the air warm and familiar against my skin, the quiet hum of the academy beginning to stir around me.

Then it hit me.

I was home.

Back in my old room, the one tucked neatly on the second floor of the west dormitory, with its high arched window and creaky wardrobe and the faintly uneven floor tile near the foot of the bed. My pack rested untouched on the side table, my cloak still dusted with dried leaves from the road. And just beside it… a basket of fruit pastries wrapped in a gingham cloth.

Claire.

Of course.

I barely had time to smile before the door burst open.

"There you are, Sleeping Beauty!" Claire's voice rang out like a sunbeam, too loud and too bright and too perfect to ignore. She practically flung herself onto the bed, bouncing beside me with a grin so wide it made my chest ache.

"I brought you breakfast and you didn't even wake up to thank me. Rude." She pouted dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I was sleeping," I murmured groggily, brushing hair out of my face. "Like normal people do."

Claire leaned in, her violet eyes glittering. "Yeah, well. You've done enough wandering. We're keeping you under house arrest now. Academy arrest. Whatever."

"I wasn't gone that long," I mumbled.

"You were gone forever, actually," she huffed, but the edge in her voice softened as she flopped beside me, our shoulders brushing. "I missed you."

The words were so simple, so casually said—but they made my throat tighten.

"I missed you too," I whispered, softer than I meant to.

She was quiet for a moment, then bumped her shoulder gently against mine. "You're not allowed to leave again without telling me first."

"I left letters," I offered.

Claire clicked her tongue. "Yeah, and that made it worse. I cried for like—thirty seconds. That's a lot for me, okay?"

I laughed—soft, real, still a little broken around the edges. "That's practically a breakdown."

"Exactly."

We stayed like that for a moment. Just… quiet.

Eventually, she stood and tugged at my wrist. "Come on. Everyone's waiting."

"For what?" I asked, even as I let her pull me to my feet.

She paused, turning with a mischievous grin. "You."

The hallways were alive with a kind of warmth I hadn't noticed before. Not the usual bustle of students or the overly polished shine of order—it was something more personal. It felt like… coming home from the battlefield and being handed tea and a blanket.

We reached the garden first.

And there they were.

Lillian stood with a watering can in one hand, her soft pink hair tied loosely at her nape, eyes glittering with calm joy the moment she saw me. She didn't speak—she just smiled and held out her free hand.

I took it without thinking.

Camille sat beneath the willow, her sketchbook open on her lap, the half-finished drawing of the greenhouse's arching windows visible in soft pencil lines. Her ice-blue eyes met mine, and her lips curved into a gentle smile.

"Took your time," she said, voice as soft and cool as ever. But she stood, brushing off her skirt before reaching out to fix a crooked strand of hair at my temple.

"Welcome back."

Tessa was nearby, kneeling by a patch of climbing roses, trimming thorns with steady precision. She didn't look up immediately—but when she did, her crimson gaze held mine with quiet intensity.

"I knew you'd come back," she said simply.

And that left…

Diana.

She arrived just as I settled onto the stone bench under the archway, carrying a silver tray with porcelain teacups, still steaming.

"Please," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "No one thought to greet our prodigal traveler with tea? Am I the only civilized one here?"

"You're also the only one late," Claire chirped, grinning.

"I'm fashionably punctual," Diana replied smoothly, but her gaze was on me—only me.

She set the tray down with care, her fingers brushing mine as she passed the cup into my hands. "Welcome home, Sera."

That simple phrase, spoken in her low, velvet voice, made something tighten in my chest again.

No one asked where I'd gone.

No one demanded to know why I left.

They just… welcomed me.

Talk shifted gently. Lillian told me the Gardening Club had become the school's unofficial flower supplier. Claire filled me in on Student Council drama, complete with wild hand gestures and suspiciously edited stories. Camille offered to take me to the Drama Club's new production. Diana made a point to casually mention I still had late library books. And Tessa… just sat near me, close enough for our knees to brush, quiet and steady.

At one point, I looked around at the five of them—these impossible, beautiful girls who had once been my enemies, then my friends, then something even deeper.

I'd thought I had to leave to find myself.

But maybe part of me had always lived here, in this garden, in the soft hum of voices, in the way they laughed, in the way they looked at me.

Maybe the real journey wasn't about becoming someone new.

Maybe it was just… learning how to be loved.

And now?

Now, I was ready for that.

Really, truly ready.

Claire leaned over and whispered, "You're staring."

"Shut up," I whispered back, smiling.

Lillian laughed quietly as she handed me a flower. Camille tilted her head like she was memorizing my expression. Diana sipped her tea with a knowing smirk. Tessa tucked a fallen petal into my braid.

And just like that—

I knew I was home.

Lillian's hand lingered in mine a little longer than necessary, her fingers warm and soft as they gently traced the back of my knuckles. I didn't pull away—not because I forgot to, but because… I didn't want to.

Camille was sketching again, this time angled so she could see me out of the corner of her eye. Her pencil scratched faintly across the paper, but I could feel her watching. She always watched when she thought I wouldn't notice. I never knew what she saw in me—what details she found worthy of immortalizing—but I'd long stopped questioning it.

Claire had practically taken over the conversation by now, animatedly recounting a recent prank involving the east dormitory's hot water system and an unfortunate bucket of violet dye. Judging by Diana's unimpressed sigh, I had a feeling Claire left out the part where she was the mastermind.

"Claire," Diana said dryly, not even looking up from her teacup. "You dyed the entire fourth floor's hair lavender for three days."

Claire shrugged. "They looked better for it."

Camille stifled a laugh behind her hand. Lillian giggled softly, and even Tessa's mouth twitched in what I dared to call a smile.

I smiled too—because this was what I missed. The chaos, the calm, the warmth. The way they made me feel like I wasn't just a character in someone else's story, but something real. Important. Wanted.

"I'm serious though," Claire said suddenly, turning to me. "You should've seen the way Diana tried to fix it. I'm talking actual panic. She went full Vice President mode."

"I did not panic," Diana said with practiced grace.

"She almost slipped on the stairs," Claire whispered behind her hand, not quietly enough.

"I almost slipped," Diana corrected. "While carrying three trays of herbal rinse, which I made from scratch, mind you. You're welcome, by the way."

Tessa glanced at me from where she sat, quiet as ever, but I saw the way her eyes softened. "It wasn't the same without you."

The words struck me quiet.

Not because they were dramatic. Not because they were loud.

But because they were honest.

"I missed you," Lillian added, her voice low and sincere. "We all did."

Camille nodded. "We tried to keep things normal, but…"

"But it wasn't," Claire finished, stretching out on the bench beside me like a cat seeking warmth. "You're kinda the glue holding us all together. It got weird without you."

My throat tightened, and I looked down at the teacup in my hands.

"You didn't have to wait for me," I said quietly. "I didn't even know if I'd be coming back."

"We did," Diana replied smoothly. "Because we knew you would."

"And even if you didn't," Camille added softly, "you would've lived here. In all the ways that mattered."

Lillian leaned forward, placing her hand over mine. "But I'm glad you did come back. In person."

Her smile was radiant. I couldn't look away.

Suddenly, Claire leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder. "Okay, this is getting way too emotional. You're making me cry again."

"You're not crying," I said, amused.

"I'm crying on the inside," she sniffed, dramatically wiping under her dry eyes. "It counts."

Tessa shifted beside me, and to my surprise, she moved a bit closer. Just enough that her shoulder brushed mine. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. The silence between us had always said enough.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you all," I murmured, half to myself.

Lillian squeezed my hand. "You loved us, even when you didn't realize it."

Camille reached over, brushing a petal from my lap. "You changed, Sera. That was all we ever wanted."

Diana met my gaze from across the table, green eyes sharp but softened. "And now, we get to have you. All of you."

There it was again—that quiet power, the way they said things so plainly, so sincerely, it left me breathless.

Claire yawned against my arm, stretching out like she owned the entire bench. "So. What are we doing today? Because if it's more gardening, I'm protesting."

Lillian gave her a sweet smile. "You're not even in the Gardening Club."

"Yeah, and yet I still help out more than Camille," Claire pointed.

"I contribute artistically," Camille said, with no shame whatsoever.

"We're not reassigning garden duty right now," I cut in, lips twitching. "It's my first day back. I'm not letting you drag me into work yet."

Claire lit up. "Does that mean I can take you somewhere later?"

"Depends," I said cautiously. "Is it another one of your 'adventures' that gets us nearly expelled?"

"No promises."

Tessa let out a small sound that might've been a laugh. "You missed this," she said.

I glanced around the table.

At the girls who had once been rivals. Enemies. Stories I thought I'd never truly belong to.

And now?

Now they were mine.

And I was theirs.

"I missed this more than anything," I whispered.