The Weight of a Friend's Hand
Strength drains from my body along with the flowing blood. My heart, no longer able to function, slowly grinds to a halt. My consciousness fades like a flickering candle. The pain and the noise gradually drift away. It is a sensation I have experienced several times now. A fleeting moment where nothing can be felt—a temporary death. Experiencing death is terrifying, no matter how many times you go through it. Because that brief window of absolute nothingness is so incredibly peaceful. It makes you want to just let go of everything and remain there. But I fight it, desperately forcing away the thoughts that unbiddenly creep into my mind. Because I promised. I promised to live strong, and to be happy for as long as I am alive.
Slowly, my consciousness returns. Noise intrudes upon the quieted world. So noisy. I mutter inwardly, telling it to shut up, and give my head a hard smack. With a sharp throb of pain, the clamor subsides slightly. Yet, the noise does not completely vanish. Noisy, noisy. Noi— Wait, is it actually noisy? No, it is quiet. It was quiet all along.
I push myself up and open my eyes. Silence fills the room. The other kids are staring at me with their mouths tightly shut, wearing expressions that defy description. I cannot even hear them breathing. Were they shocked to see me get stabbed to death? They saw me die plenty of times before, but I guess it is not the kind of thing you ever really get used to.
As I ponder this, I see Martina, our instructor for the day, trembling violently with a shell-shocked face. "No... I just wanted them to spar... That's all I wanted..."
As I watch her mutter to herself, our eyes meet. She flinches, her body shuddering, before she approaches me and speaks in a trembling voice. "Are... are you... okay? No, of course you're not okay. Dammit..."
Martina looks terrible as she mutters to herself. She probably feels an immense sense of responsibility for what happened to me during her training session. Since she does not know exactly what transpired inside the barrier, it is only natural for her to think she caused a horrific accident. After all, she was highly conscious of the fact that I was watching from the sidelines.
Because it was a secret we could not let anyone else discover, I had whispered to Yoon Siwoo in a voice only he could hear. And when I had him stab my heart, we were pressed so close together that it was barely visible. From the outside, it must have looked like I simply threw caution to the wind, attacked recklessly, and got myself killed. But since I had orchestrated this entire thing voluntarily, seeing her react like this makes me feel terribly guilty. To ease her conscience even a little, I speak up.
"Um... you don't need to worry about it. I'm used to dying during training."
"...Don't lie to me. How could anyone get used to that? No matter how harsh Instructor Eve's classes are, there is no way she would subject first-years to such high-intensity training so often."
"Well... our regular classes aren't like that, but during the last special training session..."
"...Hey, even at the absolute worst, you'd only die two or three times a day. How could you possibly get used to that? When I brought up early graduation, Instructor Eve put me through a hellish training session where I died five times in a row in a single day, and even I would never say I got used to it..."
"...Well, it was actually a bit more than five times..."
Martina looks at me with deeply skeptical eyes. "...Just how many times did you die on the day of this 'special training'?"
I hesitate for a moment, then spread the fingers of both hands wide and hold them out to her.
"...Really? Ten times? I find that hard to believe..."
At her words, I slowly shake my head. Seeing this, Martina bites her lip, looking as if she is holding something back. Then, with a profoundly sorrowful expression, she gently pats my head and mutters.
"...Did your conscience prick you because you tried to lie? It's fine. I can tell you're just saying this so I won't worry, but you don't have to do that. This was my fault..."
"Huh? No, that's not it... I didn't mean ten times, I meant ten times that. I died over fifty times that day..."
When I correct her, Martina gives me an utterly dumbfounded look. "...Be realistic. Fifty times? What nonsense. Just go sit down."
"...But it's true..."
"...Why are you being so stubborn? The other kids must know how many times you did it. Hey, you guys, how many times did she die?"
Feeling wronged, I grumble under my breath. Martina turns to the rest of the class with an exasperated sigh and asks. Then, May, who has been watching with a stiff expression, speaks up.
"...It wasn't fifty times."
"See? Even your classmates say it's not true, so stop—"
"...She attempted the training exactly seventy-eight times and passed on the last one, so she died seventy-seven times."
"...Huh?" Martina's face goes blank.
"...What? Seventy-seven times? No, wait... seriously?" May nods. Martina glances around at the other students, and every single one of them nods in unison. In a trembling voice, as if she has just heard the most horrifying truth imaginable, she asks:
"How could... No, more importantly, what kind of lunatic would do that to a child?"
"Um... it was Instructor Natalia Eloise."
"Fucking hell, that crazy bitch Natalia. I knew she was vicious, but I didn't think she was that unhinged..." Martina shudders, then looks at me and asks cautiously,
"...Are you... in your right mind?"
Martina is asking if I am in my right mind. I am about to nod immediately, but then I pause. Wait. Am I actually in my right mind? To be in one's "right mind" implies possessing one's original, proper consciousness. But right now, I am a foreign soul inhabiting the body of Scarlet Evande. Can that really be considered being in my "right mind"? Come to think of it, this is a highly philosophical question. It is just as difficult as that prompt I once saw when trying to access a website: 'Are you a human?' Back then, looking at that question, I had genuinely paused and wondered, Wait, am I actually human? As I hang my head, deeply contemplating whether I am indeed in my right mind, I hear Martina muttering in a low, pity-filled voice.
"I thought she was just fearless because she didn't mind getting hurt... but her mind was already broken from that ordeal... What on earth have I done to such a pitiful child..." I look up to see Martina staring at me with profound sorrow. Uh-oh. Am I being treated like a lunatic just because I didn't answer right away? Sensing a sudden crisis, I quickly speak up.
"Excuse me, I am completely in my right mind. I'm totally normal."
"Yes... of course... I'm sure you are..." Martina's voice is dripping with pity. She is not listening to a single word I am saying. It seems I have already been branded in her mind as a poor, broken child who has lost her sanity. How on earth am I supposed to prove my sanity to someone who already thinks like that? As I rack my brain, Martina mutters in a slightly irritated tone.
"But Yoon Siwoo... a guy with his level of skill should never have let such an unfortunate accident happen. Was he distracted by something else? If so, I need to give him a piece of my mind..." Muttering to herself, Martina begins marching toward Yoon Siwoo, who has just emerged from the magic barrier. Wait, he only did what I asked him to do! I cannot let Yoon Siwoo get penalized because of me. Panicking, I dash over to Martina as she approaches him, grabbing her hand.
"P-Please don't scold Yoon Siwoo. It was my fault..."
"...No, how could this be your fault? Even if you made a mistake, the responsibility lies with us for failing to prevent it when we had the power to do so. And my subordinate's mistake is my responsibility as well... I am truly sorry. It's... all my fault."
I freeze at her apology. No, seriously, I was the one who caused this, but she is bowing her head and apologizing to me! I do not even know what to say. While I stand there flustered, Martina straightens her back and walks over to Yoon Siwoo anyway. Ahhh, Siwoo, I'm sorry! This is all because of me!
"...Agent Yoon Siwoo, why did you do that? Were you distracted?" Martina asks in a stiff, formal tone as she stands before Yoon Siwoo, who is standing still with his head bowed. Yoon Siwoo mumbles softly, keeping his head down.
"...I'm... sorry..."
"...Is an apology enough? I clearly instructed you to control your strength. No matter how recklessly that student charged, someone of your caliber should have been able to subdue her without killing her. Even if you are the same age as her, you hold the status of a Hero. Harming a civilian due to your carelessness is a grave mistake."
"I am truly... truly sorry..."
Getting scolded like that by his direct superior—and one of the highest-ranking figures at that. Ugh, just watching them makes me break out in a cold sweat. Yoon Siwoo seems to be under immense pressure, unable to even lift his head. Martina, displeased by his posture, immediately points it out.
"Yoon Siwoo, lift your head. Are you going to stand like that forever?" At her command, Yoon Siwoo slowly raises his head. The moment Martina sees his face, she falls silent. Yoon Siwoo looks as if his very soul has been hollowed out. It must have been a shocking sight, because Martina remains quiet for a long moment before letting out a deep sigh and muttering:
"...Right, you must have been the most shocked of all. I'm the piece of trash for making you do this in the first place... Fine. I will handle the rest of the class, so go over there and rest with that student..."
"...I'm... sorry..." Yoon Siwoo squeezes out another apology, then trudges toward the corner of the gymnasium. Wait, did she just tell him to rest with me? I look at Martina, and with a face full of guilt, she gestures with her chin toward the corner, silently telling me to go rest.
...Yeah, there's no way she'd let me rejoin the class even if I begged. I quietly walk over to the corner of the gym and sit down next to Yoon Siwoo, who is curled up with his head buried between his knees. Forced to sit out like a tagalong... I didn't even skip training back when I was in the military... Feeling a sense of emptiness, I blankly watch the other kids train before turning my gaze to Yoon Siwoo. Even at a glance, he looks completely devastated.
...To be honest, I knew I had asked too much of him. If I had to stab and kill my own friend, I'd probably be even more traumatized than this. Deciding I need to apologize, I gently tap the shoulder of the boy curled up beside me. Yoon Siwoo slowly lifts his head. Up close, his eyes are completely vacant, devoid of any light. I really went too far. I'm about to say I'm sorry, but then, a memory of something he once told me flashes through my mind. Instead of an apology, I ask:
"Hey, Yoon Siwoo... we're still friends, right?" At my question, Yoon Siwoo slowly nods. Thank goodness. I was worried he might not want to be friends with me anymore after what happened today... Relieved, I smile and speak to him.
"I wanted to say thank you for today." Because Yoon Siwoo had told me before that friends don't say they're sorry to each other. So, with sincere gratitude for him carrying out such an unreasonable request, I offer those words instead. But when I do, Yoon Siwoo's face contorts, looking as if he might burst into tears at any second. ...Maybe Yoon Siwoo doesn't actually like being my friend all that much.