An Eve at the End of the Century (3)
“You probably expected as much, but... I still haven't forgotten my father. Even now, he suddenly appears in my dreams from time to time, and that day... what happened back then was part of it.”
“I understand. It must be an unforgettable memory, and one you shouldn't forget either.”
For Pavel, the key to understanding Delis was undoubtedly a sense of kinship. Though it was a shared reality they had stumbled into, Pavel, Delis, and even the leader of the organization had all lost their biological parents by this point.
Of course, Pavel's situation was the best among them. Though the parents who gave him his name and surname were gone, he still had a father who had given him his patronymic. And it didn't stop there. Though he wasn't one of the Five Pillars, he had become a high-ranking executive of the organization and had even been granted the territory of Belfast.
Naturally, this meant Pavel couldn't fully comprehend Delis's confession. But then, who could ever truly understand another person? In the end, what mattered was the fact that they shared a common thread, however small the intersection of their kinship might be.
Delis confessed with a feverish sigh.
“You know, don't you? When you lose someone, it's impossible to completely forget them, no matter how much time passes.”
“Of course. Even I haven't forgotten the 'biological' parents I lost in Odessa. If that's the case for me after nearly twenty years, it must be so much harder for you, Bloomfeld.”
“No matter how pedantically one tries to sugarcoat it, that's just how it is, right? My head tells me to forget, but it's not as easy as it sounds.”
Delis gently retraced her memories of the 'one who had gone before.' She remembered when they used to lay out mock evidence on the table of various cases that had once shaken Britain. It was a sort of game, deducing the truth behind mysteries once shrouded in secrecy. Recalling how she had always scored high, tossing out more accurate deductions than anyone else, she couldn't help but wonder if her future had already been decided back then.
The thrill when the evidence fit together like puzzle pieces, finally revealing a grand picture, offered an unparalleled satisfaction unlike any other pleasure. To be patted on the head and praised for a job well done made it perfect. With happiness layered upon happiness, what greater joy could there be? Doing what she loved beside the person she loved—having tasted such ecstasy even once, it was inevitable that she could never go back to the way things were.
“So, why are you telling me this?”
Walking step by step along that preordained path had brought her to where she was today.
“Because, if with no one else, the time I spend with you allows me to paint over those fading memories.”
“Was I someone capable of offering you that much comfort? I'm glad you think of me that way.”
The corners of Delis's mouth curved upward. A soft chuckle escaped her lips. Just then, the liquid in their glasses ran dry. Both of them. She reached out to grab the bottle, but changed her mind and used telekinesis to pour the wine instead. Distilled emotions were poured into the two glasses, one after the other.
“And that's not all. Thanks to you, I've come to realize a world I never knew existed. I can't thank you and Lady Yerina enough.”
“...”
“Actually, I even feel a bit sorry to you, Pavel. Without your consent, I selfishly used you as mere paint to color over my memories.”
“I don't mind. If anything, perhaps I should be the one atoning to you. If I had paid just a little more attention, I might have foreseen Chief Superintendent Arthur Bloomfeld's death, but I didn't.”
No. How could she possibly hold him guilty? It wasn't as if he had anticipated her father's death. The mere fact that he might have foreseen it could never be deemed a crime.
“...”
“...Bloomfeld?”
The words she had to say were already decided, and she thought she had long since made up her mind, yet she was still hesitating like this. She emptied her wine glass again and again. Feeling uncomfortable, she even slipped off the hair tie that had been tightly binding her hair and tossed it aside. She had thought it would be easier to open up to him, of all people. That was why she was so grateful. Grateful that he waited for her in silence through the long pause, never rushing or pressuring her. Grateful that he humored her one-sided selfishness. But at this rate, she was no different from a child counting down the seconds, agonizing over whether to swallow a bitter medicine. Downing her glass one last time, Delis slowly dragged her innermost thoughts to the surface.
“At some point, I started projecting my father onto you. It felt as if a man I can never see again had returned to life.”
“...”
“Pavel...?”
The situation had completely reversed. Just moments ago, Delis had been silent while Pavel gently called her name. After a brief, throat-parching silence, Pavel slowly nodded.
“I see.”
A brief reply that made her heart plummet. What thoughts lay behind those blue eyes? What if he despised her, blamed her? Her heart hammered against her chest. A sudden chill swept over her, cold enough to instantly sober her up. Her mind felt pushed to the edge of a cliff, freezing the faint smile right off her face. I shouldn't have said it, after all. But the eternity-like instant passed, and in that brief window, Pavel carefully chose and discarded countless words. The answer he finally forged carried a warmth Delis had never anticipated.
“You've had a hard time. You must have been suffering all on your own.”
“You've had a hard time... you say? I approached you just to patch up the hole left by someone precious to me... Aren't you disgusted? Don't you despise me...?”
She genuinely couldn't understand. If he knew that she had once regarded him as a mere substitute, he shouldn't be reacting like this. She had hesitated again and again precisely because she knew better than anyone what kind of taboo this intimacy harbored. Instead of a direct answer, Pavel shared a story from the past.
“Once, the young lady told me, 'I know. I know I'm a little crazy.'”
He then added a caveat: “I'm sorry for bringing up someone else in this kind of atmosphere.” Delis could only nod blankly, her expression devoid of life.
“To Lady Bronska, revenge is a value more important than anything else in the world. If she can bring down the materialists of Moscow—if only she can do that—she would sacrifice hundreds, thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands without a single shred of hesitation.”
“...Yes.”
“And the reason she can make such decisions without hesitation is because she believes that for the sake of her ultimate goal, anything else can be sacrificed. Whether it belongs to herself, or to others.”
Pavel moistened his throat with wine. Then, pouring the liquid once more into the two empty glasses, he spoke.
“Bloomfeld, look at me.”
“Oh... Ah, yes...”
“Everyone knows it is wrong to kill tens of thousands of innocent people for one's own sake. Everyone knows it is wrong to treat another person merely as a means to fill one's own void and deficiency.”
“That's... true...”
Her hesitant reply echoed. Unbothered, Pavel poured out his words toward her in a voice filled with conviction.
“But there is a vast difference between simply knowing that, and confessing without reservation to another person that you are the sinner.”
“You showed immense courage in telling me this, Bloomfeld. More than anything, I am grateful simply because you didn't keep suffering in silence and chose to open up to me.”
“To be honest, I find it admirable, and I am proud of you. Lady Bronska is still walking through the very heart of her vengeance, but at least you, Bloomfeld, have spoken to me.”
Listening in silence to the torrent of expressions Pavel poured out, Delis found herself in the midst of a swirling storm of conflict. At one point, she had even considered raising her hand to stop him. After all, Pavel was the one who had told her to say so whenever she found it too difficult or unpleasant to go any further. Every word he spoke forced her to confront the self that had hidden the truth for so long out of fear of rejection. But... she didn't want to stop now. She didn't want to leave this fire she had started half-burnt. At the end of this long confrontation, she had finally reached Pavel, who was whispering that he was proud of her. To be honest, she didn't quite understand. No matter how she looked at it, her confession didn't seem like something admirable or worthy of pride... In truth, she couldn't fully comprehend what Pavel was saying. It was surely the alcohol. Perhaps her strategy of borrowing liquid courage had worked too well. Yet, if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Pavel would not cast her aside. She had never been more grateful. She was glad she hadn't stopped him and had listened to the very end. With a heavily slurred tongue, she barely managed to form a sentence.
“I'm... glad... Thank you...”
A sliver of hope etched itself into her heart. After all, this confession was only half of it. She wondered if she might somehow be able to convey the remaining half as well. Perhaps God had helped... No, though it was an Eve at the end of the century, she would not believe in God. Everything was merely the result of her own sincerity. Once again, bolstered by Delis's sincerity, Pavel asked a question.
“There is one thing I want to ask.”
“Mmh... what is it?”
She was entirely different from the confident girl who had been expressing her thoughts earlier. She seemed somewhat embarrassed... Tilting her head, Delis waited for Pavel's next question.
“It feels like there's still something important left. Does that mean... the attitude you've shown me all this time wasn't actually directed at me?”
Even in her hazy state, this question pierced straight through her mind. The attitude she had shown him... He must mean those moments—intertwining their arms in a daydream, leaning in close as he put the necklace on her, whispering trust over the receiver. A soft chuckle escaped her. Pretending you didn't notice, but you were aware of it all along, Pavel. She was secretly glad to know that this dilemma hadn't been hers alone. Stumbling, Delis stood up and took unsteady steps toward the man before her. Clutching the centerpiece of her necklace with one hand, she reached out with the other toward the man who was so close yet so far. She didn't care when her foot caught on a table leg, nearly sending her sprawling. Instead, it was Pavel who jumped up from the sofa in surprise, reaching out to support her.
“...Ah.”
“Are you alright!?”
She didn't answer. She had yet to answer a far more important question. Delis barely managed to steady her body, which felt ready to collapse at any moment. In truth, she was mostly leaning into his embrace, but she welcomed even that. And so, right now. She spoke in a whisper.
“It was like that at first, but not anymore. Now... I just like you, the person you are.”
She felt him flinch in her embrace. Amidst his mix of certainty and doubt, he had just received confirmation from her own lips. Exhaling a hazy breath, she lifted her head from where it rested against him to look at his face. He was flushed bright red—though she likely was too. He was so red she could hardly believe he was the same man she saw every day. The fact that he didn't seem to dislike it made her heart pound even harder. Ahaha, so you can get flustered too. She wanted to monopolize the man before her. Though she had lost her old family, she wanted to vow that she would never let anyone take this new family away from her, no matter what. Even if it was a twisted affection, she didn't care. The thrill of guilt and transgression prickling down her spine was intense. If only he would understand. The two of them slowly leaned to one side. One step, then another. Delis, half-buried in Pavel's chest, pressed herself close as she moved her feet. If he wanted to, Pavel could have easily pushed her away with his strength, but he didn't. Or rather, he couldn't. The intertwined pair finally reached the sofa again. Naturally, it was the spot where Pavel had been sitting. Confirming that he wasn't pushing her away, Delis pushed Pavel down. This time, too, he went down obediently. With every breath, his scent filled her nose. It made sense, given it was where he had been sitting. She didn't dislike it. In fact, she loved it. Inhaling and exhaling long and deep. Haa... Her alcohol-laced breath made her mind drift again. Clutching her wildly racing heart, holding onto her consciousness which felt on the verge of snapping, Delis recalled a phrase from the depths of her memory. Remembering what Pavel had said to her right before she began her confession, a devilish idea crossed her mind.
“If you want to stop... or if it's too hard or you don't want to go any further, tell me anytime.”
“Why? Will you stop if I do?”
An exchange in perfect contrast. But because the roles were reversed, the answer was different this time.
“No. I'm going to make sure you won't want to stop.”
She surrendered herself to instinct.