The sun was beginning to dip below the treeline as Enri hurried back to Carne Village, her basket now filled with the mysterious herbs Ainz had given her. Her fingers clutched the pouch tightly, as if afraid it might vanish.
'Why did he help me?'
The image of those glowing crimson flames that acted as eyes—unnerving yet strangely calm—lingered in her mind. He hadn't attacked her. Hadn't demanded anything. He'd just… given her something precious, as if it were nothing.
"Consider it an apology for scaring you."
She bit her lip. Monsters don't apologize.
Yet he had.
As she stepped into the village, her little sister, Nemu, came running.
"Enri! You're back!" Nemu's eyes widened at the sight of the herbs. "You found so many!"
"Ah… yeah," Enri said, forcing a smile. "We'll have enough medicine for everyone now."
But even as she handed the herbs over to the village chief, her thoughts kept drifting back to the forest. To him.
******
Ainz remained seated beneath the tree long after Enri had left, his skeletal fingers steepled in thought.
'What am I doing?'
Helping a random human girl made no logical sense. In YGGDRASIL, NPCs like her would have been meaningless—background noise. But here…
'She was afraid. And yet, she spoke to me.'
He flexed his hand, watching the way the fading light filtered through his bones.
'I'm alone in this world. No guild. No Nazarick. Just… me.'
But for a brief moment, when Enri had looked at him—not with hatred, but with cautious curiosity—he hadn't felt like a monster.
He hadn't felt like nothing.
A strange impulse tugged at him.
'…Will she come back?'
The thought was absurd. Why would she? He was an undead abomination, something that should have sent her running in terror.
And yet…He found himself hoping.
******
That night, as Enri lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Nemu whispered beside her.
"Enri… are you okay? You've been quiet."
Enri hesitated. "I met someone in the forest today."
"Someone?"
"A… person. A strange one." She didn't dare say skeleton. Not yet.
Nemu tilted her head. "Were they nice?"
Enri thought of the pouch of herbs. Of the way he'd spoken—tired, but not cruel.
"Yeah," she murmured. "I think he was."
As dawn broke, Enri found herself standing at the edge of the village, looking toward the forest.
'I should stay away.'
But something inside her—something reckless, something curious—pushed her forward.
She adjusted the small bag on her shoulder, filled with a loaf of fresh bread and a waterskin.
'Just in case.'
Taking a deep breath, she stepped back into the trees.
******
Ainz hadn't moved. He didn't need sleep, after all.
When he sensed a familiar presence approaching, his eye flames flickered in surprise.
'She came back?'
Enri emerged from the foliage, her face a mix of determination and nervousness. When she saw him, she froze—but this time, she didn't scream.
"You're… still here," she said.
Ainz tilted his head. "And you came back. Why?"
Enri swallowed, then held out the bread. "I—I thought you might be hungry."
A beat of silence passed.
Then, to her shock, Ainz laughed—a deep, echoing sound that carried no malice, but it went as fast as it came.
"I don't eat, Enri. But… thank you."
She flushed. "Oh. Right. Bones. Uh…"
Ainz gestured for her to sit. "Stay awhile, if you'd like."
The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows over the grass as Enri sat cross-legged near Ainz, the loaf of bread resting in her lap. She fidgeted, unsure of what to say.
Ainz glanced at her. "You're not eating?"
Enri blinked. "Oh! I, uh… didn't want to be rude."
Ainz waved a bony hand. "Eat. I don't mind. In fact, I'd prefer not to watch you awkwardly cradle bread like it's a fragile artifact."
Enri let out a small, nervous laugh and tore off a piece of the loaf. "Right. Sorry." She took a bite, chewing slowly before curiosity got the better of her. "So… you really don't eat at all?"
Ainz tapped his skull. "No stomach. No taste buds. Convenient, in a way—no need to worry about hunger. Inconvenient when someone brings bread as a peace offering."
Enri grinned despite herself. "I'll bring something non-edible next time. A rock, maybe."
Ainz's eye flames flickered with amusement. "I'll cherish it forever."
She snorted, nearly choking on her bread. "You're weirdly funny for a giant skeleton."
"And you're weirdly calm for someone sitting next to one."
Enri paused, then shrugged. "Guess we're both weird, then."
A comfortable silence settled between them. Birds chirped overhead, and the wind rustled the leaves.
After a moment, Ainz spoke again. "Why did you come back, Enri?"
She tore off another piece of bread, considering the question. "I dunno. Maybe because you didn't try to kill me. Or because you helped me with the herbs without asking for anything." She glanced at him. "Or maybe because you seem… lonely."
Ainz went very still.
Enri immediately backtracked. "Ah—sorry, that was too personal—"
"No," Ainz said quietly. "You're not wrong."
She hesitated, then offered him the last piece of bread with a smirk. "Symbolic gesture?"
Ainz stared at it, then reached out and took it with exaggerated solemnity. "A truly priceless treasure." He tucked it into his robe pocket. "I shall guard it with my life."
Enri burst out laughing. "You're ridiculous."
Ainz leaned back against the tree. "And yet, here you are. Willingly spending time with the ridiculous skeleton."
"Yeah," Enri said, smiling. "Guess I am."
******
The next time Enri ventured into the Great Forest of Tob, she brought two things: a small wooden flute she had carved herself, and a thick woolen blanket.
Ainz was exactly where she'd left him—leaning against the same old tree, his crimson gaze lifting as she approached.
"Back again?" His voice was as deep as ever, but there was a note of something almost like warmth in it.
"I told you I'd bring something non-edible this time," Enri said, holding up the flute with a grin. "Though I did also bring this." She shook out the blanket and spread it on the grass between them before plopping down.
Ainz tilted his skull. "A blanket? I don't get cold."
"Yeah, but I do," Enri retorted, wrapping it around her shoulders. "And it's rude to make guests sit on the dirt."
A low chuckle rumbled from him. "Fair enough."
She twirled the flute between her fingers. "So, uh… I'm not great at this yet, but…" She lifted it to her lips and played a simple, slightly off-key melody.
Ainz listened silently, his eye flames flickering in what might have been surprise. When she finished, he clapped slowly—the sound of bone against bone oddly hollow. "Not bad. For a human."
Enri stuck her tongue out at him. "Wow, such high praise from the musically talented skeleton."
"Oh, I'm exceptionally talented," Ainz deadpanned. "My ribcage makes a wonderful xylophone."
She nearly dropped the flute laughing. "Okay, now you have to prove that."
"Absolutely not."
"Coward."
"Dignified."
They bickered back and forth as the afternoon stretched on. Enri tried (and failed) to teach Ainz how to whistle, while he retaliated by summoning tiny floating lights that danced around her head like fireflies.
At one point, Enri leaned back on her hands, watching the dappled sunlight play across Ainz's robes. "You know… you're not at all what I expected."
"Oh?"
"When I first saw you, I thought you'd be… I dunno. Scarier."
Ainz flexed one skeletal hand, studying it. "I am scary."
"Not to me," Enri said simply.
The admission hung between them, quiet but undeniable.
Ainz looked away first. "...You should head back before dark."
Enri sighed dramatically but began gathering her things. "Fine, fine. But next time, you're telling me a story."
"A story?"
"Yeah! You've gotta have some interesting tales, Mr. Mysterious Skeleton." She stood, shaking leaves from her skirt. "No backing out!"
Ainz watched her go, the ghost of a smile he couldn't physically make tugging at his nonexistent lips.