"You… are still terribly selfish."
In a sunken memory, within an unseen world, eyes wrapped in faint light stared back at me. She looked sad as she called me selfish.
Selfish? How? What did I do wrong?
In a world I had never seen, inside a cage of white walls... who was I overlapping with you?
A splitting headache echoed through his skull. It was a nightmare that felt like it would never end, yet he had faced it countless times. Within the dream, he stared blankly at her.
"…Maybe if I had never met you."
If I hadn't known this world was ■■■■.
Would we have been happy then?
"Sleep well, my love. One day, when you open your eyes in this world again, when you stand up and take hold of the sword..."
We will meet again.
"Gasp! Huff... hah... ha..."
Yujin woke up, gasping for air. His body was drenched in cold sweat, leaving him feeling sticky and gross, but that was the least of his concerns.
The nightmare had returned. Instead of fading with time, the dream grew more vivid with each recurrence.
Yujin walked to the window and looked outside. It was still the dead of night, the uncomfortable hour of dawn.
"…Sigh."
He exhaled deeply. He didn't know why he kept having these dreams, but he hadn't sought a doctor. Could a conversation with a woman in a dream even be called a nightmare? The only problem was that he always woke up startled, as if he had seen a ghost.
Yujin opened his hand and stared at his palm. Calluses and scars littered the skin, and the back of his hand bore the mark of a blade cut.
If he had stayed in his past life, he never would have had scars like these.
He wondered why. Why had he fallen from Earth into this place called Terra? In his previous life, he had been nothing special—just an ordinary student enjoying his youth.
Sometimes, holding a sword still felt alien. He had held a pen far more often than a blade. Even though the time spent in both lives was beginning to equalize, the dissonance lingered.
"Ugh, getting sentimental just because it's dawn."
He scratched his head aggressively to shake off the thoughts and headed out to get some water. The hallway was empty, as expected at this hour.
He rummaged through the fridge, grabbed a bottle of cold water, and took a drink. Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. Reflexively, Yujin ducked under the table to hide.
Wait a minute. I‘m not a thief. Why am I hiding?
Realizing his absurdity, he started to come out, but the footsteps were already close. Mischief sparked in his mind. He decided to stay hidden.
Since I‘m already down here... might as well scare them.
The footsteps belonged to Kisha. She came into the kitchen rubbing her eyes, likely looking for water as well.
Yujin grinned devilishly. Time to play the ghost.
Whooooo...
Manipulating his Arts with fine control, he created a gentle draft that whistled like wind through an abandoned mansion.
"…?"
Kisha flinched at the sound but shrugged it off as nothing. But Yujin wasn't done.
This time, he used his Arts to knock over some cutlery. He didn't want to break dishes and get scolded by the butler, so he chose forks and knives.
Clatter! Clang!
Hearing the metallic crash, Kisha looked ready to cry. She frantically looked around, seemingly deciding to drink her water as fast as possible and bolt back to her room. But Yujin wasn't about to let her go so easily.
Somewhere in his mind, he could hear Kalaisha scolding him: 'I didn't teach you Arts so you could use them like this...' But he ignored it.
It‘s fun, isn't it? Though Kisha might disagree.
Time for the finale. Yujin‘s eyes glowed as he stood up from behind the counter, blocking Kisha‘s path to the exit. To Kisha, it must have looked like a pair of glowing platinum eyes floating in the darkness.
Yujin wiggled his fingers spookily and reached out. But the moment their eyes met...
"KYAAAAAAH—!"
Kisha let out a short, terrified shriek and fainted on the spot.
"Die! Die! Just die!!!"
Kisha was furious. Her small fists pummeled Yujin‘s chest. It didn't hurt, but her huffing and puffing showed just how angry she was.
Yujin felt genuinely guilty; he hadn't expected her to actually pass out. He was used to seeing things far scarier than ghosts, but he had forgotten that Kisha was just a child.
Eventually, Kisha exhausted herself and sat down. Yujin carefully patted her head, and she didn't push his hand away.
"…Don't ever do that again."
"I‘m sorry. I won't."
Kisha was terrified of the dark. A pitch-black room, a blindfold over her eyes, the screams echoing from nowhere... her memories of Kazdel were painted in pain.
"Sir."
Kisha, who switched between calling him "Sir," "Mister," and "Master," looked up at him with trembling eyes.
"…I‘m sorry."
Sitting on the sofa, looking out the window, Yujin pondered her apology. He could guess why she was saying it.
"What for? Family doesn't need to apologize for things like this."
"Fam... ily?"
Kisha looked at him with confusion. To her, family meant blood relations.
"Well, just like you call Raquelamalin 'Sister,' maybe you could call me 'Brother' instead of 'Sir'?"
"I don't want to."
"You're awfully sharp when you want to be."
Yujin pulled her onto his lap and patted her back. He couldn't imagine the depth of suffering this child had endured. He looked at her with sad eyes.
"You might not know what you mean to us, but I think of you as a little sister. And Larin probably feels the same."
"But... I..."
I've only ever received. I have nothing to give to you or Sister. Kisha‘s unspoken words hung in the air as her expression saddened.
"It‘s the heart that matters."
Yujin looked at her with a mix of pride and pity. This was why children shouldn't grow up too fast. Children should be allowed to be children.
"Even if you don't exchange things, even if you don't share blood... there‘s a family thicker than blood. I have people like that too."
Theresis and Theresa. People who had been with him for so long they were family in every way that mattered.
"You'll have people like that too."
The Confessarii. Those lunatics would never touch Kisharsinagh again. Even thinking about what Larin had told him made Yujin‘s blood boil with disgust. They deserved to be torn apart. Yujin narrowed his eyes.
"…I don't know."
Hearing Yujin‘s words, Kisha recalled the past. She remembered watching helplessly as her younger brother was dragged away to somewhere unknown. And she remembered the bright smile of the man she called "Father."
She should have known that smile was twisted.
That horrifying man... she resented ever calling him Father. She didn't know where her brother was or what kind of torture he was enduring. If her escape had caused him more pain, what should she do?
Tears welled up in her eyes. Kisha began to cry suddenly, but Yujin just held her gently.
"Don't worry. I‘ll help you."
Some might say Yujin was being nosy. Some might say he was making empty promises he couldn't keep.
But no.
Yujin helped Kisha for one reason alone. As a child, he had hated the bystanders.
People who could have extended a hand but didn't out of fear. He didn't resent them—they were busy surviving themselves. But he had wanted someone to reach out.
He wanted to be the person who extended a hand when it was needed. And he hoped that when the children he helped grew up, they would do the same for others.
"I want you to become that kind of person too."
Hearing Yujin‘s words, Kisha‘s eyes sparkled. A chain of kindness... it sounded like a dream.
"…Okay."
She finally understood why people admired the protagonists in knightly tales.
Someone more like family than her own father. Someone truly like a father.
In the quiet dawn, feeling safe and warm, Kisha closed her eyes in Yujin‘s embrace and fell asleep.