That’s just how humans are. Whether it’s a newborn who doesn’t yet grasp the concept of death, or an old man who has lived out his days—when faced with the end, no one remains composed.
Hillein was no exception. She wrinkled her nose slightly as she smiled.
— Selfish as it may be, I didn’t want to die. I just… wanted to keep living. With you.
One night, long ago, she had cried until morning, praying desperately to the gods.
Just one year… one month… even a single week is fine. Please give me time to say goodbye to my child. Let me tell my child I love him.
But the gods were silent. And death, though fair, was cruel. Her hand that clung to his sleeve now slowly groped at the air.
— But if it had to be this way… if one of us was fated to die, then I wanted it to be me. Because for even me to give up on you… that would’ve been too cruel.
Her delicate fingertips gently brushed his disheveled hair back behind his ear. Her touch was cautious, like handling something fragile, something irreplaceable.
And the moment that cool warmth brushed the edge of his ear, Justyn instinctively understood—every word she had just spoken was the unvarnished truth.
— So no, I don’t hate you. I never once resented you. But…
And then, for the first time, Hillein’s expression crumbled.
— What about you?
“…”
— Did you… never hate me? For leaving you? For giving you life on a whim…? Didn’t you resent me?
She had chosen her son’s life over her own. But the deep regret she carried tethered her to this world. Though invisible to all, she had stayed, always lingering near Justyn.
The realization had struck her suddenly.
Watching her son trapped in that tiny attic room… Bearing the hatred of strangers and the scorn of his own father… Longing for warmth and falling asleep alone each night… Slowly losing all hope, becoming hollow, that one precious child of hers.
That was the first time Hillein had truly wept. Even knowing no one could hear her, she cried out with all her soul.
— I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This isn’t what I wanted. I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted you to suffer like this…
This place was Justyn’s hell. And she—she had been the one to push her son into it.
Especially when the curse began to torment him. That’s when she was forced to admit it—how selfish she had once been. How arrogant. How deeply she had underestimated human emotion.
And now, face-to-face with the grown child who had survived those hellish days, Hillein finally voiced the question she’d buried deep in her own heart.
“I…”
Justyn murmured.
His voice was so faint it could’ve been mistaken for a breath, but it gradually grew steadier, clearer. His red eyes, unreadable as ever, didn’t waver as he looked at Hillein.
“When I was very young… yes. I think I resented you. I wanted to ask why you gave birth to me, if you hated me and this was some kind of punishment.”
— …
“But not anymore.”
His gaze drifted downward, as if recalling the past. And there, curled up and quiet for some time now, was his pair in cat form.
One little paw gently rested atop the hem of a dress, as if to say, Don’t interrupt. A soft smile crept to his lips.
His miracle, his salvation. Even if all the misfortune he’d endured had been just to meet him, then it had all been worth it. Even if he had the chance to turn back time, Justyn would choose to walk through hell again.
So his answer was already decided.
“…Thank you. For not giving up on me.”
There had been times when life felt nothing but miserable and cruel, but not anymore. He’d met someone precious. And now, he realized—he had family who loved him, too.
It wasn’t that he’d never been loved. He’d just failed to notice it. The presence that had always stayed close to him—cooler than warmth, yet never leaving—he simply hadn’t been able to see it.
At his words, Hillein’s eyes widened. Tears welled up again. Her cheeks trembled, her mouth twitching between a smile and a sob.
She couldn’t speak. For a long while, she tried and failed, then finally moved. She stepped back, pulling her hand away, and parted her lips.
— Can I… can I hold you? Just once?
Justyn hesitated, then nodded.
One step. Then another. Closing the brief distance between them, Hillein opened her arms wide and embraced the son she had so dearly missed.
The faint scent of flowers. Feather-light movements. A coolness brushing against his skin. One by one, Justyn felt them, and then slowly raised his own arms.
He embraced the small woman before him. Her body, unlike that of the living, felt like it might crumble to pieces if he held her too tightly—but that was okay.
“…”
— …
They held each other in silence.
It was cold, yet warm. Like he’d been drenched in icy sea wind, yet somewhere deep in his chest, a fire had been lit.
***
A few minutes passed like that. Hillein was the first to pull away. As if she’d never been crying at all, she beamed and pointed up at the sky.
— The sun’s setting. Maybe that’s why it’s gotten chilly. It doesn’t matter for me, but you might catch a cold. We’ve walked enough—let’s go back in.
Then she spotted something near the hem of her dress. Eyes widening in surprise, she scooped up a cat.
— Goodness! How long have you been sitting there like this?
“…Mrow! Mnyaaak!”
Her hands moved with swift determination—scratching between the ears, along the forehead, across the crown and down the back. Ries, despite himself, was helpless in the face of her touch.
And really, how could he interrupt? The newly reunited mother and son had been having such an important moment. You’d have to be heartless to interfere with that.
Sefiut, hidden somewhere in the bushes behind them, must’ve felt the same.
Not that any of that mattered now. Ries clenched his jaw, doing his best to twist his head away this way and that.
— What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well? Is it the wind?
“Let me take a look. Please hold him still for a moment.”
— Alright, I’ll leave it to you. Ries? It’s okay, it’s okay. I just want to check, that’s all. Just stay still for a second, okay?
These two really were mother and son—right down to their stubbornness.
Both stared at him with the same worried eyes, both cajoled him in the same soft, teasing voice, like they were fussing over a child. Had they forgotten there was an actual person inside this cat?
Ries’s resistance didn’t last long. It was two adults versus one cat—there was no way he could win. In the end, he was completely overpowered and had his face gently cupped.
“…Mmmf. K’hng. Mrrow…”
— Oh… no way… are you crying?
“…”
A couple of tears slipped out. He sniffled, caught in the act. A pale hand quickly brushed under his damp eyes.
The reactions were immediate. Hillein looked flustered. Justyn froze.
But only for a moment. The one who broke the silence was Hillein, who lowered her head and chuckled softly.
— You cried for Justyn, didn’t you? You really are a kind child.
“…Nngh.”
He turned his now-freed head the other way again.
It was just… tears, that’s all. Seeing them bare their hearts like that had made his eyes sting. That didn’t make him kind, did it?
He peeked at Justyn out of the corner of his eye. The man, now clearly caught up on the situation, had a faint smile on his face. He reached out and gently patted Ries’s cheek. Warm. Soothing.
After that, they returned home, just as they’d said. Sefiut, who had clumsily revealed himself with a cough, was quickly taken in by Justyn.
Ries, from his perch, watched his master’s mouth carefully and memorized the words he formed.
Thank you.
A silent acknowledgment. He knew he’d been considerate, too. Sefiut didn’t respond, but the slight wag of his fin said enough—he was pleased.
And then, once they reached the study safely—
“Mrow. Mrn.”
— Hm? What is it?
Ries didn’t change back into human form right away. Instead, he stretched out one front paw. A single claw caught the hem of Hillein’s dress and tugged gently.
He held back from glancing up, suppressing the urge to make eye contact. There was still one thing he needed to ask.
“Mnyaak. Mrowr. Nng?”
In short: Does your body hurt?
There was something Justyn didn’t yet know. A spirit, formed from lingering regrets, was inevitably affected by the curse he carried.
According to others like her… the pain felt like stabbing needles, unbearable cold, and an indescribable chill that sent the soul itself recoiling.
There was no visible sign that Hillein was suffering—but she must be feeling something similar. And Ries couldn’t exactly bring it up in front of Justyn.
— You’re worried about me, aren’t you?
But Hillein smiled brightly. Her face showed no trace of discomfort. She shook her head gently, as if to say there was no need for concern.
— I’m fine. I’ve been through worse. I’m used to it. It really doesn’t bother me anymore. Actually…
“Nya?”
— I’m happy. Truly. Happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life.
Her smile deepened, and a dimple appeared in her cheek. A soft flush bloomed there, making her look, for a moment, like any other woman her age.
Ries watched her quietly—and then smiled too.
That was enough.
