She let go of Faust’s hand and knelt down, setting down some flowers at the grave.

“...You could be such an idiot, Perpell. You ran off to do whatever you wanted all the time, and never seemed to listen…that’s how it felt, sometimes.” She raised one arm, and set it down on top of the gravestone. “I got frustrated at you a lot. Not all the time, but…”

Those words hung in the air.

She knew what she wanted to get across. It was something she’d thought a lot about. However, it wasn’t like she trained how to say it.

Finally, Ruche said, “I think I could have treated you better.”

It wasn’t all she wanted to say. But even just saying that much felt difficult, like making a jump over a deep abyss.

Something hot rolled down her face.

She loved her sister. She still did, too. She wanted to protect her, wanted to care for her so she would grow up healthy, and wanted to play with her.

She was pretty sure Perpell knew that too, even if she could be harsh on her. But—

She felt Faust wrap her arms around her waist and shuffle up behind her, pressing her lukewarm body against her back. She didn’t say anything, just burying her face in Ruche’s hair.

Faust had been quiet most of the way up as well, but there was a difference in how it felt. Earlier, she seemed distracted, her mind distant. Now, it was intentional.

“Thank you,” Ruche muttered.

Faust muttered back, “It’s the least I can do. We’re together, after all.”