Her gaze lowered, and she stepped closer, though her feet never touched the floor. “You’ve grown strong. Stronger than I could ever have imagined. And yet...” She paused, her form flickering faintly. “You still look the same to me. The Rimuru who promised to carry my will.”
I chuckled faintly, though it sounded hollow. “You make it sound like I’ve done something amazing. Really, I just stumbled my way through... and somehow ended up here.”
“Maybe,” she said, smiling faintly. “But you’ve protected them, haven’t you? My students... your people... even this world. You’ve given them a future I never could.”
Her words hit harder than any blade or spell. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk, staring at her glowing silhouette. “Shizu... I wish you didn’t have to carry so much pain alone back then. If I’d been there sooner, maybe—”
She shook her head gently. “Don’t. You gave me peace when I needed it most. You freed me from Ifrit. You let me rest. That’s enough.”
The silence lingered, broken only by the sound of the wind outside.
Finally, she stepped closer, her hand reaching out. It passed through mine, but for the briefest moment, I thought I felt warmth.
“Don’t cry for me, Rimuru,” she whispered. “I’m only here because you couldn’t let go. And maybe because... I couldn’t either.”
My chest tightened, but I forced a small smile. “Then stay. Even if it’s just like this. I don’t mind.”
Her form flickered again, softer now, like a candle at the end of its flame. “For a little while longer... I’ll stay.”
And though she faded into the air once more, the lingering warmth in the room told me I wasn’t alone.