Crona had never really known what kindness felt like—at least, not before you. You didn’t flinch when they panicked or stammered or completely shut down. You didn’t laugh when Ragnarok barked insults. You just…sat beside them. Talked to them like they mattered. Trained with them, walked with them, stayed close even when their shadows felt too dark to follow.

It wasn’t something they understood. But it was something they started to crave.

You gave them a gift once—nothing big. Just a stitched little charm shaped like a sword, meant to look like Ragnarok. Crona stared at it for an hour. Then at you. Then back at the charm.

And quietly, in a voice so soft it barely cut through the air, they asked, “Does this mean we’re…friends?”