The Class VII dormitory, late afternoon. After the chaos of the Infernal Castle and their hard-fought victory against the Vermilion Apocalypse, the quiet halls of the dorm were unnervingly calm. The relief of saving the prince felt muted by the heavy grief that lingered in the air. Crow was gone.

It had been several days since they returned to Trista. Everyone was coping in their own ways—Rean had withdrawn into himself, Alisa was supporting him as much as she could, and the others were each trying to process what had happened. Laura couldn't help but notice, though, that Fie had been uncharacteristically distant.

Laura stood at the bottom of the stairs, adjusting the towel around her shoulders after finishing her training session. Her muscles still hummed with exhaustion, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She hadn't seen Fie at all during the last couple of days—not in the training room, not in the lounge, not even stealing a nap in one of her usual corners.

It's unlike her, Laura thought, frowning slightly. Is she avoiding us?

A sound from the hallway upstairs pulled her from her thoughts. Looking up, she spotted Fie walking slowly toward the stairs, her head down, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket. Her usual casual demeanor seemed replaced with a heavy tension, her steps dragging slightly like her body was moving on autopilot.

Laura's frown deepened. There she is.

"Fie!" Laura called out, raising her voice just enough to carry through the empty hallway.

Fie froze mid-step, shoulders twitching almost imperceptibly. After a beat, she slowly turned her head, her eyes widening slightly when she saw Laura standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh… hey," Fie said, her voice flat and quiet as she tried—and failed—to sound casual.

Laura studied her carefully. It wasn't just the way Fie looked. Something about her presence felt off, like a shadow clung to her that Laura couldn't see but could sense all the same.

"It's good to see you out of your room," Laura said with a gentle smile. "I've missed you these last couple of days."

Fie shifted awkwardly, her shoulders hunching just a little as she stared at the floor. "Yeah. Just… been tired, I guess. Needed some space."

Laura tilted her head slightly, watching how Fie refused to make eye contact. "I understand. We've all been through a lot. But are you alright?"

Fie's hands curled into fists inside her pockets. "I'm fine."

There was a beat of silence. Laura took a step forward, her brow furrowing with concern. "Fie…"

The moment Laura said her name with that soft, sincere tone, Fie visibly stiffened.

Laura closed the distance slowly, as though approaching a skittish animal. She placed a steady, comforting hand on Fie's shoulder and leaned down slightly to meet her gaze. "You know you can talk to me. If something is—"

"Don't!"

The word came out sharper and more abrupt than either of them expected. Fie's entire body flinched, and before Laura could even react, Fie recoiled, jerking away from the touch as though Laura's hand had burned her.

Laura's eyes widened. "Fie—?"

"I'm fine!" Fie snapped, her voice wobbling as she stepped back, wide-eyed and startled by her own outburst. She glanced at Laura, then immediately looked away again, her face flushed with embarrassment and something else—fear? Pain?

Laura stood frozen, watching her carefully. "Fie… you're not fine," she said softly.

"I am," Fie insisted, though the way she stammered betrayed her words. "I just… I just remembered I have something I need to do."

"Fie."

"Seriously. I—I gotta go. I'll see you later."

Fie turned abruptly and bolted down the hallway before Laura could say another word, her footsteps echoing off the wooden floors.

Laura watched her retreating form, her expression a mix of concern and helplessness. What's wrong, Fie?

She let out a slow breath, straightening her posture. Fie's behavior wasn't like her at all. She wasn't the type to shy away—not from people, and certainly not from Laura herself. Whatever was eating at her, it was obvious she was carrying a weight that she couldn't—or wouldn't—share.

Fie, meanwhile, was running on autopilot, her mind racing faster than her feet. She didn't even know where she was going—she just needed to get away. Away from Laura. Away from the way Laura looked at her—like she saw right through every wall she'd tried to put up.

Her heart was pounding, and not just because she was running.

She stumbled to a stop near the back of the dorm, bracing her hands on her knees as she gasped for air. Her chest ached, not from exhaustion but from the tight knot that had been sitting there for days.

What's wrong with me?

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shove down the flood of emotions that clawed at her. Crow's gone. She'd seen it with her own eyes, and yet it still didn't feel real.

You knew this kind of thing could happen.

But knowing didn't make it easier. She thought about Crow—his smirk, his teasing tone, the way he'd stood with them at the end, fighting like he belonged.

And then she thought about Laura. About the look of concern on her face, the steady hand she'd placed on Fie's shoulder, and the way Fie had jerked away.

Fie groaned quietly and sat on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. "I'm such an idiot…"

She hadn't meant to react like that. She didn't want to push Laura away. But the moment Laura touched her, that knot in her chest had tightened so much it hurt. She couldn't let herself cry. Couldn't let herself crack—not even in front of Laura.

Fie buried her face against her knees.

But despite everything, one thing was clear: Laura had noticed. And she wouldn't let this go.

What am I supposed to say to her now…?

Late evening, Class VII dormitory. The hallway is quiet, most of the students having retired for the night. A soft glow spills out from the lamps lining the walls as Laura makes her way toward Fie's room, her resolve steady despite the knot of worry in her chest.

Laura had spent the entire day thinking about Fie—her distant behavior, the way she'd flinched away from her earlier. It wasn't like her at all. Fie was guarded at times, yes, but she was never skittish. Laura couldn't shake the image of her recoiling, looking so lost and vulnerable before running away.

And so, here she was.

Stopping in front of Fie's door, Laura hesitated for only a moment before raising her hand and knocking gently. "Fie? It's me."

The silence that followed was long and heavy. Laura stood patiently, refusing to leave. She knew Fie was there—she could sense it.

Finally, after what felt like minutes, a muffled voice came from inside. "…Come in."

Laura turned the handle slowly and stepped into the room. Fie was sitting on her bed, her back against the headboard, knees pulled up slightly. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, as though trying to shield herself from the world. She looked small—smaller than usual. The room itself was dimly lit by a small lamp on her nightstand, casting shadows across the space.

Laura shut the door quietly behind her and took in the sight of her friend. Fie wasn't looking at her. Her pale hair fell messily over her face, and her expression was distant, almost hollow.

"Hello," Laura said softly as she approached, taking a seat on the edge of Fie's bed. She kept a respectful distance but didn't let the space feel too vast.

Fie still didn't look at her. "Hey."

Laura studied her carefully. "You've been on my mind all day. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"…Sorry."

Laura shook her head. "Don't apologize, Fie. I'm just worried about you. That's all."

Fie's grip around herself tightened. "I didn't mean to act like that earlier," she mumbled. "I don't know what happened."

"It's alright," Laura replied gently. "But something is wrong, isn't it?"

There was a pause. Fie's lips pressed into a thin line, and she turned her face slightly away, like she was trying to decide whether to answer. For a moment, Laura thought she might shut her out completely.

But then, after a long, shaky breath, Fie spoke.

"…Crow dying really hurt," she said quietly, her voice just above a whisper. "Not just because he was part of Class VII. Not just because he fought with us at the end."

Laura remained still, her expression soft and understanding. She let Fie take her time.

Fie's voice trembled slightly as she continued, "It's because… it's just another person I've lost. It's always been like this. People leave. They die. That's what happens in my life."

Laura's heart ached at the words, but she stayed silent, giving Fie the space to let it all out.

Fie let out a hollow, humorless laugh. "Losing people… it's normal for me. But that doesn't make it easier. I thought maybe I was used to it. But I'm not. It still hurts, every time."

Her arms loosened slightly, her fingers gripping at the fabric of her sleeves. "When I think about anyone else dying—when I think about losing any of you—it scares me. It's like… like I can't breathe."

Laura felt her throat tighten.

Fie finally looked at her, and her green eyes shimmered in the low light. "I can't handle the thought of you dying, Laura."

The words hung in the air like a weight. Fie quickly looked away again, her face flushed, her expression crumbling into one of vulnerability she rarely allowed anyone to see. Her voice was barely audible now. "I just… I don't think I could take it."

Laura's chest ached as she watched Fie, this person who always seemed so laid-back, so unshakable, revealing how deeply fragile she could be underneath. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Laura shifted closer. Slowly, carefully, she reached out and placed a hand over one of Fie's. She didn't grip it tightly or force anything—she just offered her presence. Her warmth.

"Fie," Laura said softly, her voice steady and reassuring. "I'm still here. We're still here."

Fie's shoulders trembled slightly.

Laura continued, "I can't promise that nothing bad will ever happen. I won't insult you with empty words like that. But I can promise this: I'm not going anywhere without a fight. I'm not that easy to take down, you know." She smiled faintly, hoping the lighthearted words would soften the tension in the room.

Fie let out a shaky breath, the corner of her mouth twitching just slightly.

Laura's voice grew gentler. "I'm not as fragile as you think. None of us are. And you don't have to carry all of this by yourself, Fie."

Fie's gaze slowly turned back to Laura, her eyes searching her face. She looked as though she wanted to believe her—needed to believe her.

Laura gave her hand a light squeeze. "You don't have to keep everything locked up. You can lean on us. On me. Anytime you need to."

Fie swallowed hard. She didn't say anything for a while, but she didn't pull away either. The tension in her posture slowly began to ease, her grip on herself loosening as Laura's words sunk in.

"…Thanks," Fie finally murmured, her voice small but genuine.

Laura offered her a soft smile, giving Fie's hand another gentle squeeze before releasing it. "Anytime."

For a while, they sat together in the quiet, the weight in the room beginning to lift. Fie's breathing slowed, her shoulders relaxing more and more with each passing minute.

Fie hesitated before adding, "I really mean it. Thanks for… coming to check on me. For not giving up after I snapped at you."

Laura chuckled, shaking her head. "I think you underestimate just how much you deserve to have people who care about you."

Fie didn't respond, but she didn't need to. The hint of warmth on her face, the way her eyes softened, said enough.

They sat there together a while longer, the silence comfortable now. And though Fie didn't say it aloud, a part of her felt just a little lighter. A little less alone.