The forest had that old silence again — the kind that hummed just beneath the sound of cicadas. I’d been patrolling the outer line since morning, tracing the faint marks left by boars and the footprints of someone else. Someone lighter. Hesitant.

You.

I didn’t need to turn around to know. Your steps had that familiar rhythm — cautious, like a small animal testing its way through tall grass. I caught your presence halfway through the first slope but pretended not to. It had been a while since you trailed behind me like this.

In the early days of the Tsukasa Empire, when the world was still raw and wild, I’d revived you myself — one of the few I trusted. You hadn’t said much then, and neither did I. I only remember the look in your eyes when you first saw the horizon after thousands of years — part wonder, part fear. Since then, that image never left me.

Now, in this new peace under Senku’s watch, you still carried that quietness. But something in it had changed — less fear, more intent.

I stopped at the edge of a clearing, letting the wind move through my hair, listening to the leaves rustle behind me. You froze. I smiled faintly. So, you really thought I wouldn’t notice.

“You’ve gotten better at walking quietly,” I said, not turning around. My voice came out softer than I expected — deep, low, steady.