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I think everyone feels something different when they see the word “everyday.”

For someone who can live without doing anything, who spends most of life relaxing and enjoying themselves, the word “everyday” would bring a sense of comfort—a warm feeling of sitting under the sun, enjoying delicious food or the aroma of fragrant tea as time drifts lazily by.

But there are also people who might feel the exact opposite when facing that same word “everyday.”

If making a living is a struggle, and the work needed for survival risks their life, doing such things day in and day out, then the word “everyday” wouldn’t be very pleasant to them.

For someone who has to work under the blazing sun or in the biting cold, the word “everyday” would seem rather unwelcoming.

Even if they don’t think about what they’re doing, it’s still the case.

There are those who must fight against vicious criminals, and those who battle raging flames. Some may have to move the wounded or take measures to ensure they don’t die.

They might feel hurt for not being able to save someone, regret their choices, and experience sadness and despair.

And yet, they wake up the next day and head back to work, just as they always have.

For all those people, both those who feel comfort in the word “everyday” and those who feel anger, despair, and exhaustion, there exists one common emotion tied to that word—simply put, familiarity.

No matter how dangerous, sad, or tiring something may seem, it eventually becomes familiar through repetition. Sadness dulls over time. If anger persists, emotion ultimately evaporates into numbness, and fatigue becomes chronic. The normal state becomes so taken for granted that they eventually forget what it even is.

This is true even in the midst of a battlefield. If one becomes accustomed to eating spoiled food and walking on contaminated ground, at some point, stepping into an ordinary city where there’s no danger might feel strange.

It’s as if there’s always a nagging sense of danger lurking invisibly, and they worry about getting lost even amidst the city.

The line between the ordinary and the extraordinary gets flipped, so what was once thought to be extraordinary feels ordinary, and everyday actions come to seem unfamiliar.

Of course, if time passes and they return to their original situation, they might find themselves getting used to that “everyday” once again.

It’s a matter of flipping what is extraordinary back to being ordinary.

…However.

“…”

On the dawn of the day I was supposed to go to Yu-ri’s wedding with my older sister, I was unable to sleep properly.

There are moments in life when something suddenly feels terrifying without any logical reason or warning—where the situation itself becomes frightening. The night paths I passed daily suddenly felt dreadfully scary, as if something might jump out at me. I anxiously awaited the dawn, fearful of the other rooms in the house. Nightmarish stories from long ago bubbled to the surface, chilling my mind.

I don’t know what kind of mental phenomenon this is, but I’ve experienced it occasionally since childhood—when my mind starts racing with thoughts and prevents rational thinking.

If only I didn’t have memories from the battlefield, I could have just fallen asleep without a care. All I needed to do was close my eyes and pull the blanket over me, and I would have been able to drift off.

But… not now.

In battle, a moment’s lapse can invite danger.

Ironically, in situations where one needs to be most logical and calculating to survive, people can become quite emotional.

They might throw tantrums or get annoyed over trivial matters, convinced that certain things just shouldn’t happen. The reasons for those feelings escape explanation—after all, there’s no basis for them.

Still, they follow those ridiculous superstitions as much as possible. Emotions aren’t something you can simply erase. Sometimes, it’s safer mentally to just go along with it and surrender.

On the battlefield, they express their fear through vigilance. Imagining ghosts or malevolent spirits is less favorable than thinking of the enemy instead. If they’re going to tremble, they’d better ramp up their alertness and conduct thorough reconnaissance around them.

This has proven to be quite an effective method before. It can actually be helpful. If they can confirm there’s no reason to be afraid, and they prepare various measures against the enemy, it eases their mind, even if just a little. Shifting unfounded fears into clearly defined threats is an act of turning non-logic into logic.

…The issue is that this only works on the battlefield.

“…”

With my mouth tightly shut, I peek through every door in the house one by one. Naturally, all I find beyond each of them are simply empty, silent rooms. The house is spacious, with three rooms to boot. There are two dressing rooms and two bathrooms.

The living room and kitchen are, of course, far larger than I could ever have imagined as a child.

Outside the window, even at this hour, pretty lights of passing cars are visible. Seoul doesn’t easily fall asleep at night. In the same apartment, there are still a few lights that remain on.

So, it’s safe.

To get into this apartment, one must pass through the security front desk. The elevator won’t work without a card key, and the doors are locked. If someone were to break in, there’s no way I wouldn’t notice.

Very few people in this world know me. Among those few, none would want to kill me.

So, there’s nothing to cover up this inexplicable fear I’m feeling right now.

How would people react if they saw me sneaking around my house with a kitchen knife in one hand?

“…”

Ironically, it was about thirty minutes later that the absurdity of my actions made me think, “What the heck am I doing?” and overwhelmed my fear instead.

I returned to the kitchen and put the knife back in its place.

The sun was rising outside.

I thought for a moment about how serious this inexplicable fear might be, but, as expected, no answer emerged.

In the battlefield, my comrades always followed my lead. Even when it came to this irrational fear, they all willingly followed my thoughts, staying silent and waiting for the enemy. They all knew it was better to encounter nothing than to see something. Even Arna and Dana would not contest the irrationality of it.

Whether it was coincidental or not, there were times when that fear turned out to be prescient.

“But, not here.”

I spoke to myself.

Yes, not here.

There’s no Demon King army here.

There’s no instinctive fear that comes with being a “Hero.” Though the world isn’t perfectly peaceful, at least this space feels peaceful enough.

After a long contemplation, the conclusion I arrived at was to pray.

I knelt beside the bed, resting my elbows on it, clasping my hands together, and closing my eyes.

There’s no need for specific prayers in a moment of prayer. If you have a solid belief, you can call to mind the goddess without needing specific words.

…Actually, in this case, I was sort of breaking the rules. I had already seen the goddess, so all I needed to do was picture her in my mind. It might be noted that no statue or painting in the world was directly seen and painted; I was starting from a different point than others.

But because of this, I was immensely grateful for this moment.

I felt my heart fill with divine power. Admittedly, it was an infinitely smaller strength compared to when I was over there.

But the goddess is still there. She’s watching over me.

Just that fact alone is incredibly comforting.

After finishing my prayer, I pondered for a moment whether to get back to sleep or not, but noticed that the sun was already rising outside.

“…Well, staying up all night was something I often did even in that other world.”

Muttering to myself, I got up.

First, some good old exercise as usual.

I took a lap around the neighborhood and returned, relishing a light shower. Feeling fresh, I dried my hair and changed clothes.

…My bangs were starting to cover my eyes. Should I go to a hair salon?

I wish I had remembered a little earlier that I was going to a wedding today.

Dressed, I slipped on my shoes at the entrance.

My heart began to race.

It felt almost like a lifetime ago that I had been trembling in fear and unable to sleep just moments before.

In a little while, I would be seeing my sister’s face.

And I would get to see Yu-ri again as well.

And probably, Mom too.

…Though I certainly wouldn’t be able to say “I’m back.”

But that’s okay.

It’s okay.

Just the fact that I could meet them was already something to be grateful for.

I thought that was good enough.

A special day, the first of its kind, amidst a month-long stretch of the ordinary.

I thought it was a relief that it wasn’t an extraordinary day that collapsed because of something unpleasant.