[ the moment Lenalee's search ends as she spies him from afar, she cannot believe she ever thought him dead. she decides, in fact, the first thing she'll do is tear his hands from the soil, to take him away from burying them and ever even mimicking the dead. it was an affront to everything she saw in him: a resilient, rising strength; a brightness, the kind that breaks churches open.
if Lenalee's enthusiasm had drawn slowly away for the last few, aching metres, it had disappeared just after. the old dumbstruck, restrained quivering had stretched back over her body; even when she manages to pull in to a crouch she cannot seize him like she had so wanted to.
there's no need to confirm his existence. Kanda is a sort of untouchable constant. they had evolved past the need to demand each other's return. Lenalee comes back to him just as he did to her, silently, like she was expected. ]