Staring out the window, my mind was on a peculiar scene of a girl in my class crying loudly while people held her back. I was curious about her identity, and Ralph explained she was Lia, granddaughter of the elderly man I killed.
She had no parents, just a little brother who was barely eight. Since her potential was low, she wasn't awarded a title and home like me, so they needed the man to survive.
Since then, I've been numb and distant, gazing into the dark clouds above and wondering what to do next.
[Casualties of war. They exist everywhere; her case is nothing special,] Lyxor reminded me, and I frowned but said nothing.
From the reaction of people, it seems I killed a good man—indirectly hurting a girl who shared the same name as my deceased sister. That was the part that made me uncomfortable.
Why does it have to be someone that shares the same name as my deceased sister?
"Lia…" I mumbled.
