The Weight of Regret
Yoon Siwoo was wandering the streets, having skipped his return home immediately after school. The events of lunch hour had left his mind cluttered, and he felt that walking might help clear his head. Last week, he had gotten into a heated argument with Sylvia Astra regarding Scarlet. Because the Holy Sword of Truth had confirmed that her claim—that she had never considered Scarlet a friend—was the truth, Siwoo had assumed there would be no chance for them to grow close.
Yet, for some reason, Sylvia, who had seemed to keep her distance from Scarlet for the past few days, had sat right next to her during lunch today. At first, he thought she might be planning to harass Scarlet as retaliation for their fight. But the words that came out of Sylvia’s mouth were entirely different from what he had imagined. She had smiled as she called Scarlet her friend. If she had said it to deceive Scarlet like before, he would have been furious. But the Holy Sword of Truth had affirmed that Sylvia truly considered Scarlet a friend.
He didn’t know if she had changed her heart over the last few days or if something had happened that he wasn't aware of, but the two of them, deep in conversation, certainly looked like friends. Scarlet had given something to Sylvia, as she always did. Sylvia, looking both taken aback and pleased, accepted it; she seemed to know nothing of the circumstances. If Sylvia truly thought of Scarlet as a friend, she wouldn't be able to treat her like that if she knew her situation or what kind of work she did to earn money. Siwoo had agonized over whether he should tell Sylvia what he knew, but it wasn't something he could easily share with just anyone, and the memory of Scarlet telling him not to concern himself with her affairs left him with no choice but to stay quiet. If she was satisfied with her current situation, his meddling might only end up hurting her more.
As he walked along, sighing, a dilapidated building that looked as if it might collapse at any moment came into view. It was the building where Scarlet lived—the same place he had visited once before. The memory of the bitter taste of the tap water she had served him suddenly made him feel a bit sad, and just as his footsteps began to grow heavy, he saw the door to the third room on the left of the second floor open.
"I couldn't put much in here, but use it as pocket money. I'll be going now."
A man’s voice drifted from beyond the open door. Hidden by the door, he couldn't see clearly from his position, but judging by the words, he knew the man had given her money. The door closed. The person who emerged from her room was a middle-aged man with shaggy hair. Didn't she say she had no family? Then who on earth is that man? The image of her entering a motel with a man of a similar age flashed through his mind. Pocket money, a middle-aged man. Don't tell me she's doing that kind of work even at home... No matter how he looked at it, only dark thoughts surfaced, and his breathing grew shallow.
The man was walking down the stairs after leaving her room. Without thinking, Yoon Siwoo ran over, grabbed the man, and spoke in a menacing tone.
"What is your relationship with Scarlet?"
The man, annoyed by the hand grabbing him, turned around. He scanned Siwoo once, a glint of interest appearing in his eyes, and countered with a question of his own.
"What’s this? Do you know Scarlet? Judging by your uniform, you must be an academy student."
Siwoo, who had braced himself for a shouting match because of the confrontational tone, felt the heat in his head cool down at the man’s unexpectedly favorable voice. If he had caught them in the middle of something illicit, the man wouldn't have reacted this way. Thinking he might have jumped to conclusions, he answered cautiously.
"...We're in the same class."
"Oh, is that so? Scarlet, how is she doing at school? Has she made any friends?"
Seeing the man’s face light up with joy at his answer, Siwoo was certain he had been wrong. After all, even if she had no family, it didn't mean she knew absolutely no one. Blaming himself for almost painting a decent person as trash, Siwoo replied.
"I think she's doing well. She has friends she eats lunch with..."
"She has friends? I thought she went around school in silence with a blank expression, but that puts my mind at ease. Please, be good friends with Scarlet, too. I'm asking you."
The man’s reaction, smiling as if relieved, and the Holy Sword of Truth confirmed that this man was genuinely worried about her. He didn't know what kind of relationship they had, but knowing there was someone who cared for her this much brought him a small sense of relief. Then, the man caught Siwoo off guard with a sudden question.
"...But, do you happen to like Scarlet?"
Siwoo gasped in embarrassment. Was it that obvious, enough to be caught by someone he was meeting for the first time? His face burned with shame. The man looked at him with a knowing gaze, then let out a sigh.
"Haa, I could tell just by looking. Look, it might seem strange for me to say this after asking you to be friends with her, but I'm telling you this because I think you'll have a very hard time later if you just leave things as they are."
Looking at Siwoo with a pitying expression, the man continued.
"I'm sorry I can't tell you the details, but don't give your heart too much to Scarlet. You might regret it later. It would be better for you to stop."
The man’s voice was calm, but he looked sad as he spoke. After saying that, the man turned and walked away, disappearing from sight. The man’s cryptic words. When he said it would be better to stop giving his heart to Scarlet, the Holy Sword of Truth had answered that it was the truth. He was curious about what that meant, but he didn't feel like following him to dig for answers.
'Please don't concern yourself with me anymore.'
Because she had said that to him, he had tried to stop liking her. He had even made efforts to turn his eyes away from those feelings. But even if, as the man said, he were to suffer later because of his feelings for her, it was already impossible for Yoon Siwoo to make those feelings disappear.
When I arrived at school early the next morning, I was surprised to see that materials for construction were already piled up in front of the gymnasium. In my original world, construction would have taken some time, but here, with magic and superpowers, it would be finished much faster. It looked like they would easily make it in time. Asking Eve had been the right choice.
I was lost in thought while looking at the gymnasium when I felt a presence behind me. It was the history teacher.
"They say they're building a door in case monsters breach the barrier and invade. Some teachers called it a waste, but I don't think so at all. Preparing for the 'what ifs' is important. Especially when it involves human lives."
The history teacher, arms crossed with his prosthetic arms, looked at the materials piled in front of the gym. Coming from a man who looked like a seasoned veteran, his words carried a unique weight. By the way, those prosthetics looked quite clunky, but the way he held his arms felt surprisingly natural. Perhaps I had stared too intently out of curiosity, because the history teacher chuckled, unfolded his arms, and clenched and unclenched his fist in front of me. I knew it was rude, but seeing a robot-like hand move so smoothly made my heart race. It was the ultimate man's romance. Even though I was in a woman's body now...
"That arm, is it not uncomfortable?"
"It doesn't hinder my daily life at all. In fact, it's much sturdier than the arms of most people. Of course, that's as far as it goes, so combat like in the old days is impossible. If I had prepared for the 'what ifs,' I might not have had to attach these things."
The history teacher looked at his arm with a distant gaze. To be precise, he was looking at the prosthetic that had replaced his arm. After staring for a moment at that cold hand where no blood flowed, he turned his gaze to me.
"Do you know what I think about every time I look at these before I go to sleep?"
I shook my head. Then, the history teacher answered in a sad voice.
"Before I sleep, I look at my limbs and always, always regret why I did that."
If one's body ended up like that due to unavoidable circumstances, it was understandable to feel that way. Even the history teacher, who looked like he possessed an incredibly strong spirit, was human after all. Just as I was thinking that, what reached my ears was an unexpected answer.
"Why couldn't I have fought until I lost the other leg? What I regret most is being scared, thinking, 'What if I lose this too?' because of a mere leg. I could have just replaced it with a prosthetic leg anyway. I even think about how nice it would have been if I had about 100 arms and legs."
The teacher looked at his right leg, the only one of his limbs with blood flowing through it, as if regretful, and then added a final remark in a joking tone, perhaps for my sake.
"If you teach for a long time, you can tell what kind of person a student is just by looking at their face. That's why I'm giving you some advice."
The teacher’s eyes, looking straight into mine, were full of concern. He spoke to me in a serious tone.
"You, don't do anything you'll regret later."
After saying that, the teacher entered the building first. Once he was gone, I quietly looked at the gymnasium before heading up to the classroom.