The idea of Camille moving in sounded absurd at first. But as I sat there, Sienna still unconscious against me and Camille watching me with that trademark smirk, I realized there really wasn't a downside.
More time together. More efficient planning. More safety. And...if I was being honest, I liked the idea. I'd grown closer to both of them in ways I hadn't expected. The apartment already felt like home with just Sienna. With Camille joining, it'd just be...more complete.
"Sure," I said after a long pause. "Let's do it."
Camille's grin widened. "You said it, not me."
Before I could process what was happening, both girls were in full packing mode. Sienna recovered quickly from her fainting spell and dove straight into gathering her things while Camille rattled off plans. I tried to help, but apparently my role was to "not get in the way."
Packing didn't take long. Society had optimized this kind of thing to a science. Apartments were designed to be moved in and out of with minimal effort — collapsible shelving, modular furniture, and digitally linked inventory lists. Most of Sienna's belongings fit into sleek, self-sealing containers that locked into the back of her car like puzzle pieces. My things, though more than when I'd first moved into the B-Rank apartment, still fit into a single container.
Efficiency at its finest.
"Alright," Camille said, wiping imaginary dust from her hands as she stepped back. "Let's get going."
Outside, Sienna's car finally screeched into view. It was a sleek, simple thing — nothing flashy, but well-maintained. Midnight blue with matte black trim, clean lines, and a quiet hum as it idled. It wasn't the fastest model on the market, but it didn't need to be. Reliable. Practical. Just like her.
I climbed into the backseat, Camille beside me while Sienna adjusted the mirror. As the car smoothly accelerated onto the main road, my head dipped forward and I groaned.
"Rey, are you motion sick?" Sienna asked, voice soft with concern.
"Yeah," I mumbled, closing my eyes and gripping the door handle. "Detective job's been messing with me lately. Too much sensory input."
"You should probably look up how to deal with it online," Camille suggested "There has to have been pass cases on things ."
The world felt like it was tilting at random intervals. Every bump, every tiny shift of the wheels felt amplified by my hyper-awareness. I squeezed my eyes shut while Sienna reached over to pat my knee reassuringly.
The thirty-minute drive stretched into an eternity.
When we finally stopped, I forced myself to sit up, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car.
The building in front of me towered like something out of an architectural showcase. Sleek, obsidian-black walls with glass panels reflecting the city skyline. The structure wasn't just tall — it was wide, spanning nearly half a block. The upper floors had open balconies with greenery cascading down like vertical gardens, glowing faintly with bioluminescent trim.
"Is this...ours?" I asked, dumbfounded.
"Welcome to your new home," Camille said, practically bouncing.
I glanced at Sienna, who just smiled. "Normally this place wouldn't be in my price range," she explained, "but...you know. You being a multi-job anomaly helps."
That was true enough. In this society, salaries were calculated with near-perfect precision. Efficiency was king. Our ID cards doubled as debit cards, tracking income in real-time and allocating funds based on rank, job demand, and performance.
When I'd first become B-Rank, I'd had to go to the bank in person just to prove it. An F-Rank pulling in 100k overnight? Suspicious as hell. But now? Between my jobs as an A-Rank Construction Worker, A-Rank Firefighter, and B-Rank Detective — not to mention the amount of absurd surprise bonuses for taking down Cipher — my income outpaced my spending without me even trying.
Camille, though, was technically still the richest among us. A-Rank Fashion Designers were really famous celebrities, with brand deals and sponsorships that kept the money flowing. But if my S-Rank job ever became public knowledge? The balance would tip dramatically.
I pushed that thought away and followed the girls toward the entrance.
The lobby alone was bigger than my entire old F-Rank apartment. Polished marble floors stretched toward high ceilings, where recessed lighting mimicked natural sunlight. A sleek, automated reception desk sat in the center, though no one was there. Everything was handled through ID scans.
Camille pressed her ID to the panel, and the elevator opened with a faint chime. The ride up was smooth — no motion sickness this time, thankfully — and when the doors opened...
The apartment was massive.
The living room alone dwarfed our old one. Two curved, cream-colored couches framed a sunken lounge area facing a wall-sized smart screen. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far wall, offering a panoramic view of the city's glittering skyline.
The kitchen was even more impressive — sleek, metallic surfaces with touch-sensitive appliances built directly into the counters. A glass-walled pantry stocked with auto-refilling essentials stood to the side.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered, stepping into the open space.
"The offices are even better," Camille said.
She wasn't kidding. We each had personal office spaces — separate rooms the size of two classrooms each. Fully customizable with ergonomic setups and integrated holo-screens.
It was luxurious to the point of absurdity.
I stood in the middle of the living room, turning in a slow circle.
If I told my past self that, in just a month, this would be my life? I'd have laughed myself into a coughing fit.
By the time the moving containers arrived and auto-unpacked everything, it was nearly midnight. I collapsed onto the bed in the master bedroom — which, by the way, could've housed an entire family. The mattress was plush, the sheets cool against my skin.
Sienna plopped down beside me, stretching with a groan. Camille followed soon after, flopping down dramatically on the other side.
The three of us lay there in silence for a while. The faint hum of the city filtered in through the slightly open window.
"We're really here," I said softly.
"Yeah," Sienna murmured, eyes half-closed. "We are."
"Told you it'd be great," Camille added, her voice already sleepy.
I smiled faintly. The apartment was stunning. The view was incredible. The sheer space was overwhelming.
But lying there, with the two of them beside me, I realized none of that mattered nearly as much as I'd thought it would.
This? This felt like home.
Sleep came easily for me that night.