Morning arrived as Aino opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling above.

She had been staying in this town for quite some time now. By her calculations, it was just over three months until the agreed-upon date.

"Alright," she thought. "I'll set off in the last month and arrive at Zola's forest a few days early."

When alone, Aino’s face was often devoid of expression. She quietly tidied up for a few minutes before heading out.

“Up early today, huh?”

Upon entering, Devon was already seated in his usual spot.

The "usual spot" was nothing more than the table in the hall where the two of them most frequently sat. Over the course of a year, they had informally designated it as "Spot One," "Spot Two," and "Spot Three."

If Spot One was taken, they would sit at Spot Two. If that too was occupied, they would settle for Spot Three.

Aino didn’t immediately respond. She walked straight to the table, sat down across from Devon, and unceremoniously grabbed the cup he passed her, taking a sip.

“...You’re really getting old, huh? Doing stuff like this,” she said, frowning as she examined the tea in her hand.

Light green tea leaves floated on the surface of the liquid. Meanwhile, Devon was earnestly studying the teapot and gaiwan in his hands.

“Old? I’ve been old for a while. I’m nearly fifty,” he replied absentmindedly, still focused on his delicate tea set.

“You know, I’ve never seen you drink alcohol. You seem like the type who would.”

Devon’s hand paused mid-air, and he chuckled wryly.

“What does ‘seem like the type’ even mean? I tried it once when I was young—hated it. Never touched the stuff again.”

“Guys like you, with all those muscles and middle-aged charm, always seem like big drinkers.”

“Stop judging by appearances.”

...

They bantered lightheartedly for a while before falling into a comfortable silence.

Devon put down the tea set and glanced at his calloused hands.

“Hey, there’s something I want to ask. If you don’t want to answer, just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Aino perked up at this. It wasn’t often that this serious-faced, laid-back man initiated such conversations.

“Go ahead. Asking for advice from an older peer isn’t shameful, Devon,” she teased.

Surprisingly, Devon didn’t retort. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully.

“What’s it like, not aging?”

The question didn’t surprise Aino.

The passage of time and the inevitability of aging were universal struggles. Even the most open-minded couldn’t escape them.

“Honestly? It’s great. I don’t have to deal with a lot of the problems you all face.”

“...I thought you’d say something poetic, like ‘immortality has its own burdens.’”

“That’s about as meaningful as saying, ‘the rich have their struggles too,’ or ‘being handsome is also a hassle.’ I don’t say crap like that.”

Aino squinted, holding the cup to her lips.

“If there’s any real downside, it’s that people I know grow old and eventually die, leaving me behind. Other than that, it’s pretty smooth sailing.”

“Haha, I suppose younger folks might find that hard to accept. Me? Not so much…” Devon nodded but seemed to have more to say.

Noticing this, Aino put her cup down and leaned forward slightly.

“What are you doing?”

Devon instinctively leaned back, frowning.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you, Devon?”

The dignified swordsman’s square face betrayed a hint of awkwardness. He wanted to deny it but found it too forced. In the end, he nodded.

“What old man wouldn’t envy someone who can stay forever young?”

As he admitted his thoughts, he reached out and pushed Aino’s face back, stopping her from leaning in further to emphasize her point.

“You should be jealous. It’s just how it is—probably fate. It’s decided the moment you’re born.”

Aino’s bluntness left Devon momentarily speechless. He hadn’t expected such a direct response.

“You really don’t sugarcoat anything, huh? Can’t even argue with that.”

Seeing Devon’s faintly dejected expression, Aino felt a pang of guilt. Maybe she’d gone too far.

“Hey... but isn’t that what most people are like? All we can do is live our best with the time we have, right?”

She tried to sound reassuring while sneaking a glance at Devon’s face.

Please don’t let him spiral into depression, she thought.

Fortunately, Devon quickly shook off the gloom and spoke in a casual tone:

“Cough, cough. I was just saying that as I get older, I feel more and more different from how I used to be.”

“What’s changed?”

“In the past, I’d go straight toward danger without a second thought. If you told my younger self I’d be sitting around chatting in a guild every day, I’d have laughed in your face.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Constantly being in danger doesn’t seem like a good life to me.”

“It’s just this sense of... getting old.”

“You’ve been old for a while, though.”

Devon pressed his lips together in exasperation, giving Aino a mildly aggrieved look.

“Once again, you refuse to mince words.”

Aino took it as a compliment and shrugged nonchalantly.

She was well aware of her "unique" way of speaking. She used to be more conventional, but after analyzing her power, identity, and circumstances, she’d abandoned empty pleasantries entirely.

Why bother? They didn’t matter to her.

That didn’t mean she spoke recklessly, but she saw no need for unnecessary fluff.

“Devon, I’m leaving in two months.”

Aino suddenly shifted the topic, revealing important news.

“Mm, is that so?”

Devon’s eye twitched slightly, his voice unconsciously softening.

“Got something you need to do?”

With her elbow on the table and her fist propping up her face, Aino sighed. Discussions like this always brought a somber mood.

“I have an appointment. Once it’s done, I don’t plan on coming back. Too much hassle to make excuses.”

“Oh, am I that boring to talk to?” Devon joked, though a flicker of sadness crossed his eyes.

He rarely chatted with anyone like this. There was something about it he couldn’t quite put into words.

Human society was like a vast web, with roles and relationships dictating how people interacted. Whether as a former teammate, a trading partner, or an old friend, each identity came with expectations.

But with Aino—a being who seemed above it all and wasn’t even human—Devon could simply be himself.

Just Devon. A man approaching fifty.

Now, this unique friend was about to leave.

“Feeling sentimental? It’s alright, Devon. All good things must come to an end.”

Seeing his obvious melancholy, Aino was startled. She hadn’t expected such an overt display of emotion from someone who prided himself on his stoic swordsman image.

“It’s not that bad. Just... with you, it feels like there’s no need to hide anything.”

“♪ It’s okay for men to cry~ ♪”

“That was terrible...”