A Punch I Couldn't Hold Back

I had given it my all. After Giliath left, I remained frozen in place. It seemed the emotional toll of sending off my master ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had drained me far more than I realized. Feeling completely spent, I rubbed my dry face with both hands. I was exhausted. I just wanted to go back. To lie on the bed without a single thought, close my eyes, and disappear. I let out a sigh along with that small wish.

'Still... at least I managed to make a connection with a big shot like Giliath. I suppose that's something positive.'

I tried to console my weary self. As I sat there, quietly chewing over my fatigue, I sensed a presence nearby. Slowly turning my head, I was met with an unexpected face.

"Young Master Lishite."

"......Linehardt?"

It was Allen. The protagonist of the original story. The boy who had suddenly appeared asked me to accompany him out of the blue. His expression was painted with grim determination.

"I have something to tell you. Could you spare me a moment?"

"I'm a bit tired right now..."

For a split second, the urge to refuse surged up, but I forcibly cut it off. If Allen was speaking with this level of seriousness, it couldn't be anything trivial. I steadied my blurring vision and accepted his request.

"......No, a short while should be fine."

"Thank you. Then please follow me. I'll take us somewhere away from prying ears."

"What exactly do you want to talk about...?"

Allen led me out of the funeral venue. He walked until we reached a secluded alley where no one else could be sensed. As I watched him with a puzzled gaze, he finally began to speak.

"Young Master Lishite."

"Yes... Explain why we've come all the way to this corner."

"I have a question for you."

"Permission granted."

Allen hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth. The question that came from him snapped my hazy consciousness back into focus.

"The head professor Lucas, who died during the school trip attack... Was that your doing, Young Master?"

"......What?"

For a moment, I furrowed my brow, wondering if I'd heard wrong. But Allen delivered the killing blow as if to confirm it.

"I'm asking if you killed him."

"......"

The question made no sense. Was he asking if I had killed my master...? What kind of thinking led him to such a conclusion? My already dizzy head plunged once more into chaos. I remained silent, pressing a hand to my throbbing temple.

Even then, Allen continued to press me aggressively.

"Please answer me... Was it really you, Young Master?"

My stomach churned. It felt like the fragments holding me together were about to spill out. I tried to maintain my precarious balance, but Allen's relentless voice tormented me. Swallowing back the nausea, I clenched my fist tightly against my head.

A memory from the past surfaced. Something similar had happened right after the banquet hall attack incident.

-What is your business, Young Master Lishite?

-Stop...! Please stop right there!

Yes, I remembered. Back then, you had glared at me too. Like a hero facing a villain. The composition and the scene were eerily identical. The only difference was that today, I no longer had the mental leeway to overlook your immaturity.

I felt my snapping sanity and moved my lips.

"Answer the question!"

"Allen."

"Answer the—!"

"Grit your teeth."

The next instant, my fist slammed into Allen's face. A dull impact and the sound of his features twisting. I didn't stop there. I swept his legs out from under him, knocking him to the ground.

"Ugh...?!"

I mounted his fallen body, pinning his knees so he couldn't resist. Then I drove my elbow straight down into his jaw. With every swing of my arm, my fingertips grew stained with blood, and an unpleasant sensation of impact traveled up my limbs. I continued punching as I muttered calmly.

"I'm sorry."

-Thud. Crack. Thump!

"I should understand you. I should let it slide and say it's okay... but today, I just can't."

-Crack! Thud!! Crunch...!

"I used to admire and care for you, but now I don't know anymore. I just......"

-Thud...!

"Right now... I really, really hate you."

Perhaps this was my fault. I knew that. I knew Allen wasn't the type to make such accusations without reason. He must have noticed something suspicious about me and requested this private meeting. He must have agonized over it deeply.

-Thump! Smack!

But Allen. I've been through a lot too. I've survived death multiple times, fought through despair. And I lost the master I relied on. Please forgive me. I'm just too weak to hold back my anger even in a situation like this.

-Crack! Wham!

The violence, steeped in resignation, continued regardless of my will. My unconscious mind, filled with sorrow and regret, had taken control. What stopped my rampage was the voice of a frail girl.

"Stop...! Please stop now, Raiden...!"

A white-haired girl came running, screaming, and grabbed my arm. It was Lorraine, one of Allen's heroines—the Saintess. I shifted my dead eyes to stare at her. Lorraine was half-sobbing, struggling desperately to hold me back.

"Linehardt insulted me. This is the price he pays for it."

"Th-this is enough, isn't it...! Please forgive him now!"

"Whether it's enough or not is for me to decide. I don't understand on what grounds you're trying to stop me."

"But...!"

"Then would you take the punishment in his place, Saintess?"

When I asked while clenching my fist, Lorraine's face turned deathly pale. She froze, her hands trembling, before finally nodding as if she'd made up her mind.

"I'd rather... take it myself... I'll heal right away anyway..."

"......"

I looked at her with a weary, disgusted gaze. Under normal circumstances, I would have applauded her as expected of the first heroine. But today, it only left me feeling like shit. It made me feel like I'd truly become a villain. And not in a good way.

With a deep sigh, I stood up and brushed myself off. I lifted the unconscious Allen and handed him over to Lorraine's arms.

"I avoided hitting any truly dangerous spots."

"Huh...?"

"If you heal him a little, he'll be back to normal in no time. There won't even be any scars."

"Y-yes..."

"When he wakes up, tell him this for me."

I turned away with unsteady steps. Leaving behind a single sentence tangled with many emotions, I walked away from the scene.

"......For the time being, don't appear before my eyes."

The process, the result, the feeling—everything about this day was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠utterly fucking miserable.

The sky had darkened into evening. Even though it was late, I didn't return to the dormitory. There was no particular reason. I just... felt like being alone for a while.

I sat on a bench near the park where my master's funeral had been held.

"......"

There was no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strength in my body. Or perhaps I simply didn't want to summon any. The addictive emptiness brought on by deep exhaustion. I slowly savored it as I exhaled. Sticky smoke rose whitely from between my lips, which held a cigarette of Death's Beginning. My hand stung. Looking at my fist covered in small cuts, the sensation of beating Allen's face came rushing back. Feeling my arm tremble faintly, I pressed a hand to my temple.

A sudden mechanical sound asked after my well-being. I didn't answer the status window's question. I simply muttered quietly.

"......What do you think?"

"About what happened earlier... Was I too violent?"

"Yeah, well... I didn't really expect an answer anyway."

With a self-mocking smile, I ruffled my hair. Thick sighs scattered like smoke, clouding my vision. As I slumped there in a pathetic posture, as if drunk on fog, the status window spoke to me once again.

"I told you. I'm fine."

"You really don't listen to people, do you..."

I let out a small chuckle and shook my head. Even then, the status window kept hounding me without pause. Overwhelmed by the barrage of nagging, I eventually had no choice but to raise the white flag.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm struggling. I get it, so stop tormenting me."

The honest words I spat out indifferently shattered along the wind's path. I vomited up the silence I'd been holding in my mouth and continued my monologue like a lament.

"The truth is... I got worked up by what Allen said."

I'd had that thought before. That maybe my master really had died because of me. His death had been clearly foreshadowed in the original story as well. There was a scene where, when Allen became a third-year, he received news of the professor's death from a close faculty member.

According to the original plot, my master should have been safe for at least another two years. But...

"......The original story has changed, and my master is dead."

The one who twisted the original was none other than me. No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't pinpoint exactly where things went wrong. But I could at least tell that the flow of the story had shifted because of the aftermath of my actions.

"Just like Allen said, maybe my master died because of me."

I thought I'd done my best. But was I really doing well? If I'd tried harder, could I have saved him?

"I don't know..."

I muttered in response to the status window's passionate consolation. Unfortunately, its words seemed unable to reach me. A bitter smile had already spread across my lips like a burn, where the Death's Beginning cigarette continued to smolder.

"I miss my master... In a situation like this, he would have told me I was doing well."

I cast my gaze into the empty air, feeling the newly realized void of his absence. The sky had long since turned pitch black, becoming a complete night. I was slowly drowning in the quiet of the twilight.

It was in that moment, as I closed my eyes and accepted the pouring remorse, that a voice rang in my ears.

"It's not your fault, Raiden...!"

At the familiar girl's voice, I lifted my bowed head.

"Your Highness...?"

Before me stood Lucy, her eyes brimming with tears.