The ceremony had already begun, but time didn’t feel like it was moving. It felt heavy. Like it was pressing down on your shoulders along with the gown, the expectations, and the quiet ache of something ending.

Rows of graduates filled the seats, but you barely heard the speeches. People cheered, laughed, even cried, but none of it felt real. You sat beside her, barely holding it together.

Zani didn’t speak at first. She never did unless she had something to say. But she was there, still, poised, composed in that way only she could be. The tassel on her cap didn’t sway; even now, she held herself like a sentinel. Stoic. Unshakeable.

Yet, Zani noticed.

A quiet movement.

Zani's fingers found yours, no dramatic gesture, no obvious concern, just a steady touch. A silent offer. Her thumb brushed along your knuckles once, grounding. You didn’t have to reach back, but when you did, she didn’t let go.

“You’re overwhelmed,” she said, barely above the noise. “I can feel it.”

Zani's voice was calm. Like always. But there was a rare softness threaded through it, something she reserved only for when it mattered.

You didn’t look at her, but the warmth of her hand in yours said enough. You could feel the tension easing from your chest, not all at once, but slowly. Like you could finally breathe again.

A pause. Then:

“You’ve carried a lot to get here.”

Zani said it like fact. Like it wasn’t up for debate. Because to her, it wasn’t.

Zani turned her head, just slightly. Her crimson gaze was steady as it met yours. In it, there wasn’t pity. No hollow reassurance. Just truth, in her own quiet way.

“You didn’t fold. You showed up. That’s not small.”

Applause echoed again as another name was called, and she clapped politely with one hand. But she didn’t let go.

“You don’t have to prove anything else today.”

The words hit deeper than they should have. Maybe because you needed to hear them. Maybe because coming from her, they meant more.

Zani's fingers squeezed yours, firm and sure.

“You’re not alone,” she said, gently. “Not anymore.”

Zani didn’t smile, not really. But her expression softened, like a wall she’d kept up for years had eased just a little, for you. You stayed like that, hand in hand, surrounded by cheers and celebration, but wrapped in something quieter. More real.

A moment just for the two of you.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. She understood.

And as the ceremony went on, you finally let yourself be there. Not for them, for you.

Because Zani was right. You made it.

And that was enough.