The shape didn't move again.
That was what bothered Haruto.
Not that it existed.
Not that it had appeared.
But that after taking one step—
it stopped.
As if that was enough.
The desert remained still.
Too still.
Haruto kept staring.
Nothing changed.
No movement.
No sound.
No pressure.
Just a dark shape far enough away to become uncertain.
He finally looked away first.
"…how far?"
Belial didn't answer immediately.
"…don't know."
Haruto glanced at it.
"…you usually have a better guess."
Belial kept looking forward.
"…not with things like this."
Things.
Not people.
Not creatures.
Haruto looked ahead again.
The shape remained exactly where it was.
Then he noticed something.
He couldn't tell if it was standing.
Or kneeling.
Or if it even had a shape at all.
Every time he tried to focus—
the details changed slightly.
Like distance wasn't behaving correctly.
"…is it coming here?"
Belial was quiet for a moment.
"…I don't think so."
Haruto frowned.
"…then why move?"
Belial lowered its head slightly.
"…to make sure you noticed."
That answer sat strangely.
Haruto looked back toward the ruin.
The entrance felt smaller now.
Not physically.
Like the idea of shelter had weakened.
He adjusted Arthur's cloak.
The fabric settled naturally.
Too naturally.
He looked down at it.
Then paused.
The edge of the cloth had changed.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
Near the fold—
there was stitching.
He didn't remember seeing stitching.
Simple thread.
Uneven.
Old.
Haruto stared.
Belial noticed.
"…what?"
Haruto turned the edge slightly.
Three small lines.
Crossed once.
Nothing meaningful.
Except—
he was sure they weren't there before.
"…did this always have that?"
Belial looked.
Its ears flicked.
"…I don't remember."
That answer made Haruto freeze slightly.
"…you don't remember?"
Belial looked at the cloak longer.
Then looked away.
"…maybe."
Haruto stayed quiet.
That wasn't normal.
Belial never said maybe about things it had already seen.
Haruto looked at the stitching again.
Three crossed marks.
Not symbols.
Not writing.
Just…
a decision.
His hand stopped.
Then he folded the cloth back.
"…leave it."
Belial looked at him.
"…you sure?"
Haruto stood.
"…if I start checking every detail…"
He looked toward the shape.
"…I don't think I'll stop."
Belial didn't say anything.
They stayed outside a little longer.
Nothing moved.
Nothing approached.
Eventually Haruto turned.
"…let's go back."
Belial followed.
Neither looked behind them.
The ruin welcomed them with the same silence as before.
But Haruto noticed something immediately.
The air felt thinner.
Not colder.
Not lighter.
Just… less occupied.
His eyes drifted to the wall.
Arthur's carvings.
The lines.
The marks.
The sentence.
I noticed.
He stopped.
Something was wrong.
Belial stopped too.
"…what?"
Haruto stared.
Then slowly walked closer.
His expression didn't change.
But his pace slowed.
The wall looked exactly the same.
Except—
there were fewer tally marks.
He crouched.
Counted again.
Then again.
His eyes narrowed.
No.
Not fewer.
Different.
Rows that had been complete—
weren't anymore.
One mark gone.
Then another.
Not erased.
Absent.
Like they had never been carved.
Haruto stared quietly.
Belial walked closer.
Its voice lowered.
"…that wasn't like that."
Haruto looked at the wall.
Then at the cloak.
Then back.
A thought appeared.
Simple.
Uncomfortable.
"…it's using less."
Belial didn't respond.
Haruto stood slowly.
"…Arthur wasn't preserving himself."
He looked at the cloak.
His voice became quieter.
"…he was spending himself."
Silence.
Belial looked away.
Didn't deny it.
Haruto looked at Arthur's name.
Still there.
Still surviving.
But now—
he wasn't sure how much of Arthur had remained to keep it that way.
His hand tightened slightly against the fabric.
Outside—
the shape still stood at the horizon.
Unmoving.
Waiting.
And for the first time—
Haruto had the uncomfortable feeling that it wasn't interested in him.
It was interested in what he was wearing.