They didn't look back again.
Not immediately.
Not because they agreed not to.
Just because once was enough.
Haruto walked.
Belial followed.
The desert stretched the same as always.
Heat.
Wind.
Distance.
Nothing changed.
Which somehow felt less believable now.
After a while—
Haruto stopped.
Belial almost walked into him.
"…what?"
Haruto looked around.
"…I'm tired."
Belial blinked.
"…oh."
Haruto looked at it.
"…that sounded surprising."
Belial sat down.
"…you haven't acted like it."
Haruto stared for a moment.
Then looked away.
"…fair."
He looked around.
Stone.
Sand.
Nothing useful.
No ruin.
No shelter.
No mysterious writing.
Just empty land.
He exhaled.
"…I want to stop."
Belial tilted its head.
"…here?"
Haruto shrugged.
"…unless you know somewhere better."
Belial looked around.
Thought.
Then:
"…not really."
Haruto nodded.
That settled it.
He crouched.
Picked up a few dry fragments of brush and brittle roots buried under sand.
Not much.
Enough.
Belial watched.
Haruto made a small pile.
Belial stared.
"…what are you doing?"
Haruto looked at it.
"…making a fire."
Belial blinked.
"…why?"
Haruto paused.
Then looked at it.
"…because I'm cold."
Belial stared.
Long enough.
Then quietly—
"…right."
Haruto stopped moving for a second.
That answer felt strange.
But he ignored it.
He gathered more.
Stacked it.
Found two stones.
Sat.
Started trying.
Nothing happened.
Again.
Nothing.
Again.
A spark.
Gone.
Again.
Spark.
Gone.
Belial sat nearby.
Watching.
Haruto frowned.
"…you're not helping?"
Belial blinked.
"…with what?"
Haruto stared.
Then looked away.
"…right."
He tried again.
Spark.
Smoke.
Then—
fire.
Small.
Weak.
But real.
Haruto leaned back slightly.
"…there."
Belial stared at it.
Quiet.
Haruto looked over.
"…what?"
Belial didn't answer.
It kept staring.
Haruto frowned.
"…you've seen fire before."
Belial looked at him.
Then looked back.
"…yeah."
A pause.
"…just not like that."
Haruto looked at the fire.
Normal.
Small.
Orange.
He held his hand near it.
Warm.
Good.
Simple.
He sat down.
Belial slowly moved closer.
Then stopped.
Its eyes stayed on the flame.
Haruto noticed.
"…you okay?"
Belial sat.
A long silence.
Then quietly—
"…you made it."
Haruto blinked.
"…yeah?"
Belial looked at the fire.
"…without finding one."
Haruto stared.
Then looked at the fire again.
The silence stretched.
Then—
he realized.
Slowly.
"…you don't make fire here."
Belial didn't answer.
Haruto looked around.
Then at the fire.
Then back at Belial.
"…what do people do?"
Belial stayed quiet.
Then:
"…they look."
Haruto stared.
Belial continued.
"…for warm places."
A pause.
"…or old places."
Haruto looked at the fire again.
Small.
Weak.
Ordinary.
His expression changed slightly.
Not fear.
Just understanding.
"…that's stupid."
Belial looked over.
Haruto shrugged.
"…if you're cold, make fire."
Belial looked back at the flame.
Quiet.
Then softly—
"…yeah."
The wind passed.
The fire moved.
Didn't go out.
Haruto watched.
Something about that felt…
good.
Not special.
Not meaningful.
Just—
his.
Not Arthur's.
Not borrowed.
Not found.
Made.
Belial kept staring.
Then quietly asked—
"…does Earth have a lot of fire?"
Haruto looked at it.
Thought.
Then smiled a little.
"…yeah."
Belial nodded slowly.
Looked back at the flame.
No jokes.
No comments.
Just watching.
After a while—
Haruto looked up.
The sky looked strange.
Not wrong.
Just empty.
He looked at the fire again.
Then around them.
The darkness felt less large now.
Not safer.
Just less absolute.
Then—
he noticed something.
The shadows.
His.
Belial's.
The fire's.
All normal.
Except—
there was one more.
Haruto stared.
Across the fire—
a fourth shadow.
Sitting quietly.
Too far to belong to either of them.
He looked up immediately.
Nothing.
Looked back.
Three shadows.
Normal.
Haruto stared.
Then quietly—
"…Belial."
Belial looked over.
Haruto didn't move.
"…don't react."
Belial froze.
Haruto stared at the fire.
Then asked quietly—
"…when people found warm places…"
A pause.
"…were they always empty?"
Belial didn't answer immediately.
Then softly—
"…usually."
Silence.
Haruto looked at the fire.
It burned quietly.
Warm.
Simple.
And for the first time—
he wondered—
if making something yourself
also made it easier
for something else
to find you.