Dama glanced down at the paper in his hand one last time, his eyes settling on the final task for the day:

  "Encourage Hobbies"

  Below the heading, Tsubasa had written a thoughtful note:

  "Letting Giona discover an activity or passion she enjoys will help in her recovery process. It will keep her spirits up and give her something to focus on when you’re out and about. Who knows? She might even discover a special talent that could turn into something she can do as a job when she moves into the village in the future."

  After reading it, Dama grinned. "Granny Tsu always thinks ahead," he mused. "She’s so smart."

  But then the inevitable question struck him, "Wait, what kind of hobby could Giona have?"

  Dama first considered reading, since Giona seemed to enjoy listening to Tales of the Cataclysm, but he couldn’t see how it might turn into a job unless it involved other skills.

  Then he thought about his own hobby—helping around the village with odd jobs. "Maybe she could do that..." he thought briefly, but dismissed the idea just as quickly. Giona was still confined to bed, and he wasn’t sure how comfortable she’d be interacting with the villagers in the future.

  Next, he considered Mr. Koul and Mary’s hobbies. They loved building things and brainstorming creative ideas together. "That’s a bit advanced for now." He decided, though he tucked the idea into the back of his mind for later.

  He then thought about Kina and Alexandra, who had both learned sewing from his mother. "How about sowing? That could work!" He considered, but then realized he didn’t know the first thing about sowing himself. "On second thought, how am I supposed to introduce her to it if I can’t teach her?

  Dama let out a small sigh and tapped his finger against his chin as he looked around the cabin for inspiration. His gaze eventually landed on his desk—then on his ink pen.

  In that instant, his eyes lit up. "That’s it!"

  He remembered when Tsubasa first visited Giona and asked her to draw as a way to communicate when words weren’t enough. Drawing had been a simple but effective way to bridge the gap. "But instead of drawing the bad stuff," Dama thought, "I’ll ask her to draw things that make her feel happy. The good stuff!"

  With a sense of purpose, Dama stood up from the bed and walked over to his desk. As he grabbed the pen and some blank sheets of paper, he spoke aloud to himself, "It’s worth a shot."

  Dama carefully walked back to the bed, balancing the blank sheet of paper and the Tales of the Cataclysm book he intended to use as a steady surface. Sitting beside Giona, he handed her the pen and placed the paper in front of her.

  "Alright, Giona.," he said with a small grin, mimicking Tsubasa’s tone from before, "draw whatever you want."

  Giona blinked, tilting her head as her brow furrowing. She recognized the gesture—this was just like when Tsubasa had asked her to draw the things on her mind. But this time, Dama’s request came with less guidance, and she seemed unsure of what to do. Her blank stare made that much clear.

  Dama quickly realized his mistake and added, "Uh, let your mind… swim through memories that feel good, and just let your hand do the work."

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Dama cringed internally. "Ugh, that sounded so corny. Why does everything sound better in my head?"

  Giona, however, focused on a single word. "Good?" She repeated, her voice tinged with confusion.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "Y-Yes!" Dama said, nodding eagerly. "Good things, or nice things! Things you like. You know, things that make you feel, well, good!"

  Giona tilted her head further, her slow nod telling Dama she wasn’t entirely convinced. Seizing the moment, he leaned forward and explained, "Good is the opposite of bad. So, remember the bad things you drew last time for Tsubasa? This time, draw the opposite of those."

  For a moment, Giona’s face remained blank. Then, as if a switch flipped, her expression changed. Her eyes lit up with understanding, and she perked up. Turning to Mumu and Nini, she pointed at both of them—an action that caught both of their attentions—asking simply, "Good?"

  Dama’s grin widened. "The goodest! Mumu and Nini are the best friends anyone could ask for!" He confirmed, enthusiasm spilling with every word.

  At the mention of "friends", Giona’s eyes seemed to glaze over, as though she were lost in thought.

  From Dama’s perspective, it seemed like she was recalling something important.

  From Giona’s perspective, the word "friend" triggered a memory buried deep in her past—a rare flicker of light in an otherwise dark time.

  She remembered the shadowy figure with glowing white voids for eyes and a smile. It was the only “good thing” she had during her time in the cell, the only presence that didn’t fill her with dread. The figure had taught her words, simple ones, just like Dama was doing now, and would whisper to her when no one else was around.

  It called itself her friend. The memory made her chest feel warm with familiarity.

  With a sudden determination, Giona grabbed the pen from Dama’s hand and began drawing. Her strokes were slow at first, but as her confidence grew, the lines became more fluid, almost eager.

  Dama watched in silence, leaning back to give her space. Whatever Giona was drawing, he knew it was something meaningful to her—a glimpse into the parts of her that were healing.

  He then quietly got up and went into the pantry. From a crate in the corner, he picked out an apple, its red skin glistening in the dim light. He bit into it with a satisfying crunch, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Giona from a distance.

  As he chewed, his thoughts wandered. The way Giona had lit up at the mention of "friends" earlier made him wonder. "Looks like she recognizes the word. Did she really have friends in the past?" He thought, his mind beginning to turn over countless possibilities.

  Naturally, more questions arose as he pondered. What kind of life had Giona lived before ending up here? What were the living conditions she had been subjected to? Who were the "bad men" she spoke about in her broken sentences? And perhaps most painfully, what had happened to her parents?

  He sighed softly, his grip on the apple tightening as a heavier question settled in his mind. It was a question that had been nagging at him ever since Tsubasa had shared her observations about Giona’s drawing.

  "The Soul Divination Council Insignia..." Dama repeated to himself, the words swirling like a dark cloud. Compared to her other drawings, Giona had drawn it so clearly with a precision that suggested unusual familiarity. But what did it mean? Who were the Soul Divination Council?

  He furrowed his brow, trying to recall if he had ever heard of such a name before. His parents had told him plenty of stories about mysterious groups and secretive organizations, but this one didn’t ring a bell.

  Taking another bite of his apple, Dama’s eyes drifted back to Giona. She was still focused on her drawing, her small hand gripping the pen with determination. For now, she seemed content, safe, and even happy.

  Dama pushed his questions aside for the moment, deciding he would ask Tsubasa about the Council the next time they spoke. "One thing at a time." He told himself, finishing his apple and tossing the core into the compost bin. "My mission is to give her the best possible future now."

  That was when the sound of giggling caught his attention. Giona’s laughter was so light and genuine, that it made him pause for a moment. Curious, he stepped back into the main room to see what had caused it.

  He found Mumu and Nini standing at the side of the bed, both looking down at Giona’s drawing. Giona continued giggling, her cheeks flushed as she enjoyed whatever it was that had amused her so much.

  Dama approached the bed with a raised eyebrow and a small smile. “What’s going on over here?” He asked in a playful manner

  Giona looked up at him, trying her best to calm her giggles, and raised the paper with both hands toward his face. “Look!” She exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

  Taking the paper from her, Dama’s eyes first fell on the crude, almost comical drawings of Mumu and Nini. Their proportions were wildly exaggerated, with oversized limbs and squiggly lines giving them a distinct amateur appearance. Dama couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. “Well, I’d say Mumu and Nini look…unique!”

  Hearing his laughter, Giona’s eyes lit up even more, her smile widening as she clapped her hands. She found it a bit odd how everytime Dama was happy, it made her feel good, and she wondered if Dama felt the same way.

  But, a shift in the playful atmosphere would occur when Dama’s eyes drifted to the bottom of the page, his laughter dying almost immediately.

  Below the playful drawings of Mumu and Nini was a massive, shapeless black figure. It had white, empty voids for eyes and a wide, toothy smile. The sight of it sent a shiver down his spine, and his hand tightened around the paper. "Wh…” Dama began to say, his breath hitching in his throat, “What the... What is that?"

  -

  Next: (Extra Chapter 20) Cursed Friendship: Part 2