The thread linking their little fingers was like a steady anchor, pulling her back to reality from that hazy unreality.
That hand was so strong. When she came back to herself, the utterly familiar figure was reflected in her eyes. Amid the countless shackles and ghostly shadows surrounding her, he held her hand, just as he had every time before, like the knight in a fairy tale leading his princess out of a forest thick with thorns.
"Come on."
She heard his soft murmur.
In that moment, she was no longer lost or at a loss. Those vague, unreal phantoms seemed to recede like the tide when he appeared. She no longer had to force herself to socialize with people of status and standing, nor pay any heed to their flattery or malice.
Just as he always appeared at times like these, he stood in front of her, as he had before, shielding her forever.
She was not afraid at all anymore.
"Today's performance went well, too."
He smiled and spoke softly.
"The whole venue was packed, and even outside, there were people everywhere. You couldn't squeeze in at all. A lot of them came by ship from all over the world just to see you."
They walked down the long corridor.
He was no longer the young man he had once been. The years had left their marks on him, too, but when he smiled, he was still as gentle as ever, as though ten years had done nothing to fade that warmth.
And she was no longer the little girl she had been back then.
She said nothing.
Her little finger merely moved slightly.
This was their own unique way of communicating.
"Didn't go watch? Oh, oh, you mean that front-row ticket you gave me? I sold it