"Wait a moment," Ziel said before leaping off the deck into the sea, leaving Klaha stunned.

"Whoa!"

"What the!?"

"Someone fell overboard! Call the crew!"

A tremendous splash erupted, and since there were plenty of people on deck, screams soon followed. Chaos broke out, with people running about in a panic.

However, Klaha, who had witnessed everything, stood frozen alongside a mother and child who had also seen the event unfold.

"Ah, uh..."

"Big brother—"

The child, on the verge of tears, tugged at his mother's hand. In his other hand, he clutched a small metal chain. Upon closer inspection, the chain was broken, snapped apart at a place other than the clasp, leaving one end dangling.

Klaha could easily guess what had happened—whatever had been strung on that chain had fallen off.

After all, she and Ziel had just been talking about it moments ago.

They were en route to a southern country.

Traveling by sea from the eastern lands to their meeting point in the south, they had only been aboard for a short while, just before noon. "Klaha, is this your first time on a ship?" Ziel had asked. "Then you should come outside and see the view. It’s really beautiful."

And if she ignored everything weighing on her mind, if she turned away from her thoughts, it truly was a breathtaking sight.

The sky was too blue. Towering, ghost-like cumulonimbus clouds loomed overhead.

The waves were calm, yet the sunlight reflecting off the water sent white light dancing, sometimes even forming rainbows.

The unobstructed wind stole the sensation from her body. It was like falling, like flying—an endless descent, or perhaps an eternal flight. As her gaze traveled further and further, the sky and sea merged soundlessly beyond the horizon.

It felt as though there were no boundaries in this world.

And for a moment—

For a moment, she thought—

Perhaps this was why she had set out on this journey, to see and feel things like this.

She pressed down her hair against the sea breeze and let herself be caught up in the emotion.

Everything had been fine up to that point.

"Ah!"

A child’s voice rang out.

Klaha turned toward the sound. Judging from what happened next, Ziel must have done the same.

Near the deck railing, crouched by the bars, was a child. A woman—presumably his mother—had her hands on his shoulders.

"My pendant!"

"Wait, that's dangerous!"

Just as the mother said, his posture was precarious.

Of course, the railing was designed to prevent falls... but the child was so small that it wasn’t impossible for him to slip through by mistake.

But before his mother could stop him, he said—

"But it's Papa’s—!"

"We’ll buy a new one! Now, stand up and—"

That was the last thing Klaha could process clearly.

Everything after that was a blur.

Ziel suddenly approached the child.

"Did you drop something?" he asked.

The child, startled by the bespectacled young man who had appeared out of nowhere, hesitated before nodding.

"Is it important?"

The child nodded deeply. Firmly.

"I see," Ziel said, nodding as well.

Then, he said, "Wait a moment."

And then—

Splash.

Panic erupted.

"..."

Klaha leaned weakly against the railing. Whether she was trying to look down at the sea or simply needed support because she felt dizzy, even she wasn’t sure.

Since she didn’t know, she decided to do both. Clinging to the railing, she peered down—

Ziel was nowhere to be seen. Of course not—the ship was moving. By now, the hull had already passed over the spot where he had entered the water.

That was probably why—

Another splash echoed from the opposite side of the ship.

"Whoa!"

"A flying fish?!"

"An amphibian invasion?!"

The last comment gave her a pretty good idea of what had happened.

Still leaning on the railing, Klaha listened carefully.

Then she heard Ziel’s usual voice.

"...Huh? Strange, was this the wrong ship—?"

"Ziel! Over here!"

She called, and his face appeared immediately.

Somehow—she had no idea how—he had launched himself back onto the ship with incredible force.

From way up, in what seemed like the second level of the ship, he called out—

"Oh."

Soaking wet, Ziel had returned.

With an effortless jump, he leaped down. Klaha braced herself for a loud thud, but of course, his movements were so fluid that he landed soundlessly.

He walked over, knelt before the child—

And then, with a flick of his hand—

"—Mine!"

"Good. Looks like I got the right one."

He handed it to the child.

"Thank you!" the child exclaimed.

His mother, astonished, bowed deeply and thanked Ziel as well.

"I’m so sorry. That was a precious gift... Um, please, let us thank you properly—"

"No need to worry. It was nothing serious."

Klaha thought, Just a little—he should worry about himself at least a little.

Not the mother and child, but the young man facing them.

As they waved goodbye and returned to the cabin, Ziel waved back, bowing his head. Klaha, standing beside him, found herself naturally mirroring his movements.

Then, at last, the crew arrived.

"Who the hell are you, you suspicious, soaking-wet man?!"

"Wait, no, I’m not a stowaway! Look, here’s my ticket—huh? Wait, I swear I had it—did I drop it in the sea?!"

"I have both our tickets to keep them safe."

After much apologizing, bowing, and explanations—

Ziel turned to Klaha.

"Sorry about that. You got dragged into this just by standing next to me."

"..."

"Also, thanks for calling out. When I climbed back up and didn’t see you, I panicked, thinking I’d ended up on the wrong ship."

That wasn’t the issue, Klaha thought.

But if not that, then what?

As she questioned herself, she realized—it wasn’t about the present situation at all.

Rather, if anything—

"Um, Ziel?"

"Hm?"

He had said, "It was nothing serious."

Klaha had heard that same phrase recently, in a completely different context.

Back then, he had prefaced it with "It’s nothing serious, but..." before revealing something utterly outrageous.

Summoning her courage, she looked up at him. Ziel was still completely soaked.

If she pointed it out, he’d probably flash that bright, carefree smile and say, "It’s summer, I’ll dry off in no time." Maybe she should just grab him a change of clothes instead—

But no. With the courage she had built up since spring, she decided to say what truly mattered.

"If possible, next time—"

She hesitated.

"Next time, please discuss things with me beforehand—uh, I’ll do better, too!"

It was a statement related to an entirely different, absurd revelation he had dropped on her before.

"...Ah, no! Sorry! I didn’t mean— It’s not that at all, I was just thoughtless— It’s not like I don’t rely on you, it’s actually the opposite, I completely—!"

He panicked so much that Klaha almost felt bad for him.

"No, no, it’s fine," she said.

"No, really, it’s totally, totally fine," Ziel insisted.

Under the clear summer sky, their back-and-forth continued.

Passengers chuckled around them, and embarrassed, they fell silent, standing side by side.

For now, their progress was—

One step forward, then back to confusion.

Something like that. Steady, in its own way.