The Right to Be Loved

"Hhhk...!"

I sucked in a sharp breath and pushed myself upright. Consciousness that had sunk all the way behind the veil of the unconscious snapped awake, and power flooded back into my blurred reason.

Bit by bit, the world around me began to resolve into shape.

Past curtains that had been flung wide open, the afternoon sunset poured in. I was sure I had lain down in the capsule that morning—how much time had passed?

"Ugh..."

I rubbed my hazy eyes and sat up inside the capsule.

My whole body was slick with sweat, clammy and unpleasant; the urge to wash was overwhelming.

What caught my ankle and held me there was the memory from before I woke.

My sister's voice. My comrades' voices. The voices of the dead. The voices of everyone I had abandoned and left behind. And... the single thread of light that had cut through all of it to reach me.

The owner of that warm light was staring straight at me.

"Ah?"

"So you finally look this way."

Maria, who had been perched on the rim of the capsule, rose to her feet. The Orthodox cross pendant at her throat swung with a soft clink.

Its color was badly faded. From a sacred relic of the Orthodox Church that ought to have shone with brilliant silver, only a frail light still managed to seep out.

Guessing why was not difficult.

"...I'm sorry."

"For what?"

I couldn't lift my head.

An Orthodox sacred relic was something priests gathered to pray over for years on end. A single piece cost hundreds of millions, and repairs were impossible.

And because of me, she had burned through something that precious.

"I'm sorry I made you use such a precious holy relic for me..."

"Bzzzt. Wrong."

"Kya?"

Through senses still tangled in confusion, Maria's hand closed the distance in an instant. With a wrecked body and mind, I couldn't even block a light flick to the forehead.

While I clapped a hand to my brow in shock, a gentle touch settled against my cheek.

One unexpected thing after another—my head spun as if the world had tilted.

"I've always told you. Those things were never your fault."

"Ugh..."

Maybe that was why half my reason seemed to have flown out the window.

Words I would normally have answered with a thin smile and let pass instead made something surge up in my chest before I could stop it.

"If it isn't my fault... then whose is it?"

"Hm?"

"I abandoned a thirteen-year-old child and ran. I kicked a kid who was begging to live and ran so I could survive alone."

Saying it only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠made me uglier. If I kept showing her this ugly side of myself, Maria would leave. I knew that, and still I couldn't stop talking.

"If someone like my sister had had this power instead of a coward like me, no one would have died that day."

I was not a great person like my sister, who had sworn to save everyone.

I was a coward who valued my own life over anyone else's, who had never once carried anything like a heart for humanity. For an ordinary citizen who had lived in a peaceful world, the battlefield had been far too terrifying.

"The soldiers on the front lines put their lives on the line even with bodies no different from ordinary people's."

I hated myself for that.

I wasn't the only one who was struggling. There were so many people fighting for their lives under conditions far worse than mine. I wasn't the only one who had lost someone precious. I wasn't the only one who wanted to live. I wasn't the only one in pain, the only one who wanted to rest. I wasn't the only one who was scared. I wasn't the only one who wanted to cry—

And I knew that better than anyone.

I hated myself for falling apart just because I had lost a few people close to me, for holing up in my room while everyone else risked their lives.

"If other people had had my power, the world would be a better place."

"...Haneul."

"So this is all my fault. My fault for failing to protect anyone even with this power. My fault for having power and doing nothing with it."

Hah—hah—

I sucked in ragged breaths and took a few steps back. A silent statement that I didn't want to talk about this any longer.

Unfortunately, that intention did not seem to have gotten through.

When I swallowed down the trembling in my heart and slowly raised my head, Maria's hand was already closing the distance I had put between us.

"You did more than enough, right where you stood."

"..."

"At least the Serena I've watched—Lee Haneul—is an incredible person who saved more people than anyone."

"That was... that was just following orders. It wasn't that I wanted to save them. The World Government made me do it."

"How many high-ranking Awakened do you think actually obey those orders?"

"Eh...?!"

In that instant the hand that had been gripping Maria's wrist went slack. Cutting through my dulled senses, her quick fingers had unknotted my hands from her forearm.

"There's something you're mistaken about... A person's character is not proportional to the size of the power they hold."

At some point Maria's hand had layered over mine. The warmth I felt through our laced fingers was strangely comforting.

"Maybe an example with power would be easier to understand. Since ancient times, almost no one who seized power with great ideals managed not to fall. You've heard it a lot, right? That power changes people."

"..."

"Strength is the same. Even when someone gains power as great as yours—how many people do you think would use it only to save others?"

That was a hard question to answer on the spot.

Honestly, it wasn't as if I had never felt the temptation to use this power however I wanted.

If the sword that split the sky had turned on humans instead of monsters—if I had cut down the ones who treated me like a lab rat—what then?

Then the government wouldn't dare treat me so carelessly anymore. I could live an easy, happy life, just like those S-rank Awakened.

What had stopped me was the memory of my sister.

Her words, that she wanted to save everyone. And me, who owed her my life. Someone like me could never turn a sword on another human being.

"...That isn't because I'm kind."

"Then?"

"Because my sister said she wanted to save people. Because she was an amazing person who would throw her life away without a second thought to keep others alive... That's why."

"Haha..."

I had meant it seriously, but what came back was a weak little laugh. The moment I lifted my head to argue, Maria's hand settled on top of my hair.

"The fact that you can carry on your sister's will is, by itself, more than enough reason for you to be comforted and loved, Haneul."

"...Come on. No way."

I had given up on self-care so long ago that the dark circles under my eyes were permanent. My ability to function as a human being was downright hopeless; without someone looking after me, the shut-in shut-in's life would just go on forever.

I didn't even have any particular talent. Because of memories from my past life, I couldn't wear feminine clothes. I recoiled from the very idea of showing off any feminine charm.

And even setting all of that aside... my mind wasn't intact. PTSD flared up on its own, seizures came without warning—I was a broken person who couldn't live without medication.

"Who would ever like someone like me."

I murmured it faintly, gripping my right arm with my left hand.

Aside from Maria, no one had even shown interest in me. I had given up long ago on being loved by other people.

Maria, it seemed, thought differently.

"Lift your head, Haneul."

Following the hand that tilted my chin up, I raised my face—and there was a phone screen. The familiar background of a certain gallery.

There was no way I wouldn't recognize it.

The swordsmanship gallery had been my only channel of communication after the war ended and the world returned to peace—when I had shut myself in my room and refused to come out.

But the posts currently up on the gallery were completely unfamiliar.

"...Ugh."

Where had all the people who usually spent their time tearing into each other, trolling, and teasing gone? Every last one of them was worrying about me with one heart.

It felt strange. I couldn't understand why they would worry this much about someone who had shown them such an ugly side of herself, and without meaning to I lowered my head.

"Why... why is everyone... like this for me..."

"Because you're someone who deserves to be loved."

"Deserves... to be loved?"

"Yeah. How many people could possibly hate you—someone who, even when she's out of her mind, tries to save people first?"

Words I would normally have let slide right past me sank deep into my chest today.

Even if it had only been in a cyber world... these were people I had rubbed shoulders with for more than half a year, friends of a kind. After I lost everything and shut myself in my room, the swordsmanship gallery had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been my only window out.

"Ugh..."

Honestly, I was embarrassed.

I had shown them the side of myself I never wanted anyone to see. The bottom of who I was, the part I had tried so hard to keep locked away.

And still, everyone affirmed that. So I was grateful.

Grateful to the viewers who had done everything they could to let people know how I was.

Grateful to the streamer named Ara, who hadn't missed it and had done the best she could.

Grateful to the snipers who had helped me at a streamer's request.

So happy that this many people had done something for me.

And so, without meaning to, the tears began to fall.

"Uuu..."

After I lost my sister three years ago, I had thought my tear ducts had dried up completely. I had thought there would never be anything left that could make me cry.

I couldn't hold it back.

These weren't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tears of sadness.

"Hhk, hhk, hhh..."

"You don't have to hold it in, Haneul."

A warm touch covered me. My blurred vision went dark as I was folded into Maria's arms.

Not being able to see was a frightening thing—but Maria's arms wrapped tightly around me were so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠warm. I felt protected.

"Waaah..."

So I undid the latch in my heart and cried the way you pour out every last drop of sorrow stored inside.

A heart I thought had worn away to nothing lifted its head. Held and crying like this, it felt almost as if I had gone back to being a child.

"Hhk... thank you... Maria."

Maybe that was why words I never would have said slipped out so easily. Even knowing this would become blackmail material later, right now I didn't want to stop.