>Can we even afford to cover an appetite like hers?
>Oh well, we can worry about that later. Now that we HAVE a later.
>At least she doesn't seem to be a
picky eater, even if she's a big one.
>After she's finished, let us gauge how she's feeling, and then how we're feeling. Take as long as it takes, but when we're both ready, let's start heading back.
>And along the way, let's see if we can enjoy the trip a little more this time, since we have the time now that we didn't have before.
>After Kyouko finishes up her breakfast, she spends a few minutes admiring the garden from as close as you dare let her go, and then the two of you decide to start heading home. You're both still sore and tired, but you'll rest easier when there's more distance between you and Yuuka, and there's something comforting about being able to stretch your legs without needing an act of will to keep you going.
>The trip back is very different than all the other times you've walked these woods. For once, there is no pressure, no rush. You can rest when you want, meander when you want, stop to watch Kyouko admire a bird or a flower without guilt or reservation. You have a picnic atop a hill covered in heather, fill two satchels with fresh blueberries, watch Kyouko utterly perplex a songbird by performing a duet with it, and even catch a pair of trout from a small stream you spend the night camped beside; Kyouko was unduly impressed with your jury-rigged fishing rod.
>Each day that passes, you can feel your strength returning. By the third, the ragged black marks which once covered your body have nearly faded into memory. So consuming was the Blight that you had nearly forgotten what it was like to have
this much energy. You feel like you could pinpoint every trace of tin from here to Isir's Cross or scale a cliff with one arm. There is still a profound sense of unreality to this situation - you've struggled and strived so long to find a cure that it's hard to come to grips with it actually being over.
>But you are
alive, and it is wonderful.
>And the compansionship you've had along the way is... nice. You find your eyes lingering upon her face - the way she smiles, the way her ears perk up when she's excited, the simple earnestness in her eyes. Had you met in different circumstances, you might have dismissed her as simple and naive; only someone ignorant of the world could see it with such innocent joy. And yet her smile gave you strength when the world was dark, her resourcefulness carried you forward when your own had failed you. No one could come so far and do so much without grit and savvy, no matter the form it takes. If there is an innocence to her smile, it is not from ignorance, but because she has the strength of spirit to find joy in even in the dark places. This is something you lack, you think. Perhaps this is why you feel a strange sense of peace just watching her enjoy the world as you never thought to do. It seems right, somehow.
>Eventually, the two of you arrive at Kagerou's little house in the woods, the garden long behind you. There is a scent of smoked fish on the wind, wafting in with the damp spray of the Grau. You promised her you'd see her again, and you have all the time in the world now to keep your promises.
