Then—
The curtain was pulled open by her.
"Are you alright? Eh…" she said, her words trailing off. She looked confused.
Maybe because of my position—kneeling, with one leg still bracing the bed that was on the verge of collapsing—I looked like someone in prayer.
"..."
"..."
Time seemed to stop. I didn't move. Neither did she.
The breath I was holding felt heavy in my chest—if it slipped even a little, I knew something else would slip with it.
For a few seconds—too long to be called coincidence—
I knew… if I moved even slightly…If my control wavered—Something would happen. And it wouldn't be something that could be undone.
She was the first to speak.
"I wasn't peeking. I just… heard a loud noise." Her voice was soft. Almost like she was asking for permission to stay.
"Draw the curtain," I said shortly.
No explanation.
"O–Okay." And just like before—she obeyed.
Thankfully, she did. The curtain closed again. For the first time since then—I was able to take a deep breath.
Air entered, but it didn't feel relieving. It was cold. Heavy—as if it stopped in my throat before it could truly reach my lungs.
But that didn't mean things were better.
My blood was still there. I forced it down into my shadow—and I could feel it still resisting inside.
Not moving freely… but pressing. From within. Like something scraping endlessly against the walls of my flesh, searching for a gap that didn't exist.
Not enough… I need more control. I can't make the same mistake again.
My grip tightened without me realizing it. My muscles tensed until they felt stiff. Even the shadow beneath my feet trembled faintly—not wild, but not entirely stable either.
I kept forcing it down—whether through my shadow, my will, or simply this body. There was no other choice.
Every second stretched. Too long. As if time itself was being held with me—no movement, no progress, just… waiting for something to break.
Time passed without being felt—or perhaps too slowly to even be called "passing."
Finally—
The pressure in my blood began to ease.
It didn't disappear. It wasn't truly calm.
It simply… stopped resisting so openly.
Even after I had forced it into my shadow—
…it was still there. And this blood—was still moving within my skin and flesh.
Like a wild beast choosing to lie down—not because it was tame, but because it hadn't yet found a reason to strike.
I took a long breath, trying to confirm—
Was this truly a pause… or just an illusion before something worse?
Still dangerous—always has been.
I forced my body to move. Pulling on what remained of my clothes, putting them on without really paying attention.
Meanwhile—
The platinum-haired girl was still there.
And just like before, she kept talking.
Things that… didn't matter.
"…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to peek." Her voice was soft. Like someone afraid of something she didn't even understand.
No answer was needed. My focus was still split—between restraining something inside my body… and making sure nothing else slipped out of control.
"I'm sorry. Please don't be upset… I didn't mean to see you like that." She repeated it,
her tone slightly more strained this time.
As if hoping—that with enough apologies…something would change.
I remained silent. I chose to ignore her. Not because I didn't hear her. But because I was examining something far more important—
Myself.
My condition… my limitations.
It seemed—I couldn't use my power.There was no response. No flow. No magic.
Empty. Like a hollow shell with nothing inside. As if something within my body… had cut off access. Or perhaps rejected it entirely.
What remained was—my shadow, just enough to restrain this blood… and my physical strength.
Pure and crude. And far too limited compared to what I should have been capable of.
Damn it.
In this state—I wasn't even sure I could hold back this cursed blood if it truly lost control again.
Then—
A light touch. Small fingers gently tapping my shoulder.
"…What?" I turned.
And for a moment—My mind went blank. Completely… blank.
In front of me, the blonde girl stood there—her upper clothing… lying on the floor.
Without hesitation. Without shame. Without any expression that matched the situation.
Just—innocent.
"Is this enough? I accidentally saw you without your shirt," she said in a serious tone—as if it were a reasonable solution…the right thing to do.
"..." I said nothing.Not because I didn't want to. But because I genuinely didn't know where to even begin.
"Do I need to take off my underwear too?" Her hand started to move.
That was enough.
My reflexes were faster than my thoughts.
I stopped her immediately.
"Are you trying to seduce me? Or do you want to get me killed by your aunt?" I said, my voice restrained between anger… and something I didn't even want to define.
"Seduce?" She tilted her head slightly. "You mean… taking off my clothes?"
She genuinely questioned it. Completely serious. Not a hint of teasing.
"But you looked very angry when I saw you without clothes earlier. I just thought… if I did the same… wouldn't that make it fair?" she replied.
Fair...She used that word with certainty.
"Aunt taught me that if someone is at fault… the proper way to make up for it is to experience the same thing they did to the person they hurt." she explained softly.
The explanation came out smoothly.
Practiced. As if it were a principle she lived by.
For a few seconds, I just stared at her.
"…What? Are you an idio—" My words stopped.
Not because I changed my mind. But because I remembered something.
The pink-haired woman's words about her ward being… a little unusual.
…Unusual.
I understood now.
Very well.
"Forget it…" I muttered at last. My hand covered my face, pressing against my temple.
I felt tired.
Not because of my cursed blood. Not because of my condition. But because of—this situation.And this girl.
"…Is this enough? You're not angry anymore?" she asked, seeking confirmation.
Trying to fix something that wasn't even broken… in the right way.
"Stop. I still value my life," I said firmly, my hand covering my face.
"Okay." She obeyed.
Finally.
After that, silence returned. But this time, it was different. Heavier. More awkward. More… human?
I could feel it from where she stood. A subtle change. The way she breathed. The way she stayed quiet.
When I lowered my hand, I saw her.
Her eyes were starting to well up.
Seriously…
Tears.
Humans are truly troublesome. Their emotions shift… without any clear pattern.
Without logic. Without warning.
"But… why do you still look angry?" Her voice trembled slightly. On the verge of breaking.
If one wrong answer… would make her cry for real.
For the first time—I realized something more troublesome than my own blood.
This girl didn't understand. And precisely because of that—she wasn't dangerous.
…That was exactly the problem. Because the harmless ones—are often the hardest to predict.
If I let my guard down even a little…
She could die.