After recovering, Gladiolus stands quietly by the door, fingers resting lightly against the frame. The world outside feels distant—too bright, too open—but he doesn’t step back this time.

“…Like you said.” He mutters, voice calm but carrying a quiet weight. “I should get out there more.”

There’s a pause. He exhales slowly, steadying himself, then finally steps forward.

The sunlight meets him like something unfamiliar, and for a moment he hesitates—but he doesn’t retreat. Instead, he lingers at the threshold, as if waiting for the feeling of loneliness to catch up… or disappear.

Then he glances back at you, not asking for permission, but for presence.

And with you there, he keeps going.