Justyn, as if it was unbearable to stay there a moment longer, had slipped away. Ries rushed after him, a beat too late. Once the two of them vanished, the air turned still with silence.
Accusatory eyes turned toward the one responsible for all this.
― …Why did you do that?
― What do you mean?
― You could’ve given me a heads-up. I asked you—begged you to give me a chance to explain. How could you just spring it on him like that, with no warning…
― And if I had waited?
That cold, indifferent question made Hillein’s translucent shoulders flinch.
― Face it already. Your soul is nearly gone. What’s holding you here now is a single thread of lingering regret.
― B-But…
― Let’s say I did wait, like you asked. How much time do you have left? A month? Two weeks? One? Or… even less?
― …
No response came. Sefiut exhaled a slow, heavy sigh.
― When exactly were you planning to tell him? Were you going to keep putting it off until one day you just vanished? I think I’ve already waited long enough.
― Still… still, this… this was too sudden. I didn’t want to say it like this. Not without preparing him at all. He… he must’ve been hurt…
― That’s a worry you save for something you can actually avoid. Stop running and face reality. However long you dragged it out, however you spun it—he would have been hurt.
A round, doll-like eye glanced toward the spot Justyn had vacated, already empty. Of course he knew. The despair woven into that quiet voice that had murmured he needed time.
Sefiut turned his gaze back to Hillein. Her eyes, now filled to the brim, reflected him like a still pond.
― Don’t you know your son by now? Even if it hurts him, he doesn’t want to live in ignorance. Especially when it comes to his family.
― …
― Do you really want him to watch helplessly as the first real family he ever met fades away because of him?
In the end, she couldn’t say a word. Not even a token protest she might have uttered on reflex.
Only now did Hillein admit it to herself. That all her excuses—the timing wasn’t right, she was scared of how he’d react, she wasn’t ready—were just that. Excuses.
She hadn’t wanted to tell him. She had desperately wanted to avoid it. She had hoped this moment would last forever…
But why did that hope burn so fiercely?
Because she already knew—it couldn’t.
She bit her lip, though she had no physical form and couldn’t feel pain. Still, the act alone helped clear her head a little.
― …You’re right, Ancestor.
No matter how much you struggle, how much you try to look away, there are moments in life you simply can’t escape. Like fate itself.
Her eyes were still full of tears, but they didn’t fall. A bitter smile quietly settled on her lips.
― I… I was just… Yeah. You’re right. I was selfish.
At last, she faced the ending she’d been running from, and the shameful, selfish feelings she had harbored. A sigh of regret and self-reproach slipped through her parted lips.
She’d done something unforgivable again.
***
“Justyn!”
Ries had barely made it out of the office before calling after him. Justyn had been walking so fast, the distance between them barely shrank.
In the end, Ries had no choice but to raise his voice and call out. He could only pray no one nearby had heard the commotion.
“Ah.”
Only then did Justyn abruptly stop and turn around.
His eyes, tangled in a mess of emotion, widened. He clearly hadn’t noticed Ries was following him.
“…I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were behind me.”
“It’s fine.”
A short apology, pushed out after a moment’s hesitation. Ries let out a long sigh as he reached out and took Justyn’s hand.
Whether in reflex or habit, Justyn’s hand flinched but gripped his tightly, just like always.
Ries gently tugged him forward, and they began walking again. Unlike before, Justyn’s pace had slowed. He matched Ries’s steps, allowing himself to be led without resistance.
Where should we go?
There was one problem: Ries had followed him out without a plan. He glanced sideways at Justyn.
Their hands were still laced together, but Justyn’s eyes were clearly elsewhere. He had probably walked off aimlessly, just like Ries.
Ugh.
This was bad. Ries fidgeted with his lips for a moment.
They couldn’t just wander around the ducal estate holding hands like this—by tomorrow, the servants would be gossiping nonstop.
Let’s just go outside. He tugged on Justyn’s hand again.
“We… kind of ended up here just walking around. Want to sit and get some air?”
Though they’d come out without a destination, they quickly found a peaceful place to rest. Ries looked up at the tree before them.
Maybe because they’d been here before, the tree’s leaves looked even fuller now, rustling gently overhead.
It was still fresh in his mind, as if it were just yesterday. The soft-spoken voice, the sudden downpour, the tree that served as their canopy, and Justyn, who ended up soaked to the bone.
As those memories surfaced, Justyn suddenly moved. Just like last time, he spread his coat at the tree’s base.
“Sit here.”
“…”
He never changes. Even with his mind surely in turmoil over Hillein, he was still thinking about Ries’s comfort. That thought filled him with both gratitude and guilt.
Instead of sitting immediately, Ries fidgeted with his fingers.
“…You don’t have to go this far.”
He’d thought it was excessive even when he was a cat—now that he was human, it felt even more so.
Justyn didn’t budge at the gentle protest. It looked like if Ries didn’t sit, he’d seat him himself. So Ries carefully sat down on the coat.
All he could do now was grumble playfully.
“An aide sitting on his superior’s coat—if anyone saw us, they’d freak out and drag me away.”
“I did it because I wanted to. Don’t worry.”
His reply was firmer than before. He seemed to be in a slightly better state than right after hearing the news.
Justyn sat beside Ries. With no coat to lay beneath himself, his pants were likely getting dirtied by the soil, but he didn’t seem to care.
Ries glanced at his somber-faced master, then up at the sky, now blanketed in soft, woolly clouds.
“…”
“…”
When he first followed Justyn out, all he had in mind was to comfort him—to stay by his side. It was a vague resolution, but anyone who saw the look on Justyn’s face would’ve thought the same.
He just couldn’t leave him alone. He didn’t want to leave him alone.
But now that the moment had come, finding the right words felt impossible. And more than anything… the memory of what happened moments ago flashed vividly in his mind.
“So that means I shouldn’t stay by her side.”
Justyn’s voice, trembling and frail. Sefiut, who gave no response. Hillein, whose face had turned deathly pale.
The suffocating silence that followed—he doubted he’d ever forget it.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. Ries slowly closed his eyes.
—If you stay by him, you’ll disappear.
That sudden revelation from Sefiut had hit him just as hard.
Other than Sefiut, everyone knew that intangible souls experienced pain when they got too close to Justyn.
But that their continued presence would wear down to the point of obliteration? That was news to him.
A surge of emotion welled up in his chest. Betrayal? Guilt? Worry? Or maybe a faint dread—the sense that this relationship might end in tragedy?
It was hard to put a name to it. Maybe it was all the more overwhelming because it had started with his suggestion to Hillein.
His thoughts spiraled endlessly, but Ries forced himself to cut them short. For now, what mattered most was the person sitting in front of him.
He chose his words carefully, over and over again. What could he say to comfort him? To ease that guilt?
After much consideration, he finally spoke.
“…Hey. Do you… hate her?”
The question was simple—more like asking a preference than expressing concern. He was still hopeless at comforting people.
Justyn shook his head.
“…No. I don’t think I have the right to.”
“Then… are you afraid she’ll disappear?”
“…”
He didn’t answer right away. Whether he was thinking or choosing his words, a long silence passed before he finally lowered his gaze.
“…If I had to say, I guess I am.”
If he had to say? A vague choice of words. His cracked voice hinted at the struggle within.
The grip on Ries’s hand tightened ever so slightly.
“But more than the guilt of knowing I might be the cause of her pain… that I might cause her to vanish…”
“…”
“I felt regret that I might not have much time left with her.”
His sunken eyes trembled dangerously.
Ah. Now Ries understood.
Though he didn’t continue, Ries could guess why Justyn was so tormented.
He despised himself—because instead of guilt, what he felt first… was regret.
