In an instant, the girl's hand snapped upward, light blooming along her fingers.
Frieren just stared at her movements, studying her.
Then she tilted her head toward the sky.
A tiny raincloud formed above her like a private storm, releasing thin, steady drops of rain.
What was all of that for? Frieren blinked slowly, caught between confusion and curiosity, as she watched the girl grow damp beneath the falling rain.
Frieren paused mid-step, the cold breeze brushing past her as though it, too, waited for the girl's reason.
Frieren narrowed her eyes slightly, not in suspicion, but in a tired, lingering curiosity.
"Why are you crying?" Frieren whispered to the girl, her hand hovering near her, steady but hesitant, unbothered by the possibility of being slapped again.
The girl stared at Frieren, then quickly brought her arm up to hide her eyes.
"I… idiot… I'm not crying… it's just the rain," the girl said, her tone defensive.
Frieren remained silent for a moment.
"But your voice doesn't sound li—" She stopped herself and closed her eyes.
"I see." Frieren withdrew her hand.
Frieren's brows lowered a fraction, her breath catching in the cold air.
Somewhere above, a lone gull screeched and drifted away, as if escaping the heaviness settling between them.
Frieren's fingers curled loosely at her side, then lifted toward the clouds.
A quiet wind unfurled from her fingers, peeling the clouds apart like soft fabric.
The girl sniffed, still staring at the sea. "Leave me alone," she breathed, her voice brittle and trembling.
Frieren continued watching the water alongside her.
They stood in silence for a moment before Frieren finally spoke.
"It's been a while since you've been here…" she murmured.
The girl didn't respond.
She's trying so hard to stand still, Frieren thought, noticing how tightly the girl's fingers dug into her own sleeves.
A warm glow bled out from the building's window.
"Aah… yesterday's match really made me drink more than usual! Hydration's important—even in the early morning!" Kraft said as he pushed himself upright, turning the lights on.
Sunny fluffed his feathers in protest, glaring half-awake.
"Ah, sorry, Sunny, I should be quieter," Kraft whispered, making a hush gesture as he grabbed a bottle of water.
Then he stepped toward the window.
He leaned closer to the glass, squinting into the misty dawn.
"What a beauti—"
Kraft froze mid-gulp, eyes widening as if the dawn itself betrayed him, and spat the water out the moment he saw the two figures together.