Kraft didn't speak. There were no words adequate for the kind of grief measured in centuries. He simply let his hand on her shoulder communicate what they both knew: they were bound by failure and the endless weight of time.
Frieren didn't shrug him off; she kept silent. The balancing desk toy on his desk seemed to click too loudly now, the sound of gulls becoming louder from the outside.
It was not a heavy grip, but a steadying one. A reminder that she was not a ghost, but a living being who had carried a burden for too long alone.
"So that binds us, then? A pair of failures?" Kraft's voice was soft, devoid of its usual teasing edge.
"But there's something we both know well..." He stared at the clear blue sky.
"As long as we draw breath... the path isn't fully closed."
A shuddering breath escaped Frieren, the first sign of the tension leaving her body. His words, simple and true, had begun to work.
Frieren lifted her gaze to the boundless blue, a slow, deliberate nod following the motion. Then she nodded again, as if steadying herself.
The desk toy was still in its place.
'What path will you take from here, Frieren?...' Kraft's voice was softer now, the question settling in the space between them."
"Frieren kept silent for a moment, her hand enveloped in a faint pink glow as she muttered the incantation for a summoning spell.
Kraft kept staring, his expression serious.
"Get in," she whispered.
The book she used for drawing materialized into her hands, and she gently placed it on the table.
Kraft didn't ask; he lifted the book immediately, turning the pages slowly.
"I see..." he said, blinking slowly as he scanned every picture as if it were an ancient text.
'That's an excellent visualization... remarkable record,' he murmured, tracing the lines of the drawn car with a fingertip."
"A profound understanding dawned on Kraft's face. This was her grimoire, her research on this strange new era. Her offering of this personal record was a greater gesture of trust than any words could be.
"Just seeing this book gives me more goosebumps than signing any contract," he said as he stared at the pages.
Frieren blinked once, unsure what he meant.
Then he shot a glance at her. He let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head. 'My apologies. An old man's sentiment.'
"Ah, you even drew the police..."
"Police?" she asked.
He pointed at the page.
"This one."
"You mean… the Blue Army?" she said.
A slow, knowing smile spread across his face as he gently closed the cover. 'Blue... of course. I should have known.'
"'So you're truly exploring this new world," he said, the frustration in his voice a low undercurrent.
Frieren nodded as she stared at something coming to the window.
"Ah! Sunny, there you are!" Kraft lifted a finger to let the bird settle slowly on it.
'This bird you sent to me , how does a magical creature like this still exist?" Frieren asked.
"This bird... uh... actually, it's not the only one!" Kraft said as he patted the bird.
"I've been breeding them," he admitted, a note of quiet defiance in his voice. "I couldn't let another line fade from the world."
"I see," Frieren murmured, her gaze distant. "The loss of the Stille... that was a true ending."
"This world has lost so much magic, Frieren. But there are still things worth preserving. Perhaps your journey doesn't have to be a solitary one anymore,'"he said, his voice carrying hesitation.
"Doesn't have to be solitary?" Frieren repeated, her tone barely above a breath.
He cleared his throat, retreating from the vulnerability. 'Ah, forget I said anything...'
Frieren blinked, as if waiting for an answer. Kraft's fingers twitched, a sign of nervousness.
RING! RING! RING! RING!
The phone rang.
Once Kraft held the phone, "Okay, I will be there in five minutes! Sorry for the delay!" he said, his voice carrying urgency.
He placed the phone down with a soft click.
Then he adjusted his necklace and stared at Frieren.
"Interested in a volleyball match?" he asked , the question a lifeline back to safer, simpler ground.