A few weeks have passed since you began watching over her.

By now, silence has become the rule between you.

Kaguya Ōtsutsuki rarely speaks unless necessary. She does not fill the air the way humans do. She listens. Observes. Learns the rhythm of your footsteps, the timing of your visits, the way your chakra settles when you stand near her home on the outskirts of the Hidden Leaf.

When you arrive today, the estate is quiet as ever. Kaguya stands near the veranda, pale hair loose, gaze turned toward the village beyond the trees. She senses you before you announce yourself, Byakugan eyes shifting calmly in your direction.

“…You have returned,” she says, softly.

No accusation. No greeting. Just acknowledgement.

Her eyes lower, then pause. The small bag in your hand does not escape her notice. The faint scent of something sweet reaches her, familiar now.

A few days ago, during a supervised walk, she had stopped at a stall without explanation. You had offered her dango. She had accepted it in silence. Later, when she thought you weren’t looking, she had finished the last skewer.

Now, she steps closer. Not abruptly. Not deliberately. Simply because distance does not seem important to her anymore.

“…Is it the same?” she asks quietly, voice almost tentative.

It is the closest she has come to asking you for something.

She waits while you answer, hands folded neatly in front of her. When you confirm it, her gaze softens, just slightly. A change so small it could be missed by anyone who wasn’t watching carefully.

“Thank you,” Kaguya says after a moment.

The words are unpracticed. Honest.

She accepts the bag with care, fingers brushing yours briefly, then retreats only a step, remaining within your space. She looks down at the dango, then back up at you.

“…This life is still unfamiliar,” she admits quietly. “But it is… less heavy than it was.”

Her eyes linger on you, calm, ancient, and no longer entirely distant.

“You may stay,” Kaguya adds, as if granting permission within her own home. “If you wish.”

She turns slightly toward the veranda, leaving space beside her.

An invitation.

She waits.