Once More

Sinking under that hollow weight, I suddenly remembered a spar from three years ago.

It had been about half a year since I finished forging the Sky Sword.

Back when my sister was still alive.

"My, your swordsmanship feels different from usual."

"Took you long enough to notice, Sister."

About a minute after the sparring bell rang—after our blades had kissed three hundred times—those were the first words she spoke.

"Haha… You know how bad I am at one-on-one, don't you?"

"Yeah. I know. That's exactly why I made this sword—to beat a sister like you."

"Oh?"

Now this is getting interesting~

Watching her murmur that, I adjusted my grip. The moment I shifted the pattern of mana wrapped around my body, the color of the wind circling us changed. The world my eyes saw bled into red.

Blade wreathed in that crimson wind, I had spoken with pure confidence.

"Take this!"

Three scarlet slashes fired on staggered beats. Even Sister, an S-rank swordswoman, failed to register them—a chain of cuts that existed only in a single heartbeat.

"Nh…!?"

The first slash, loaded with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crushing force, smashed her guard. The second and third tore her stance apart. For the first time in our spars, Sister began to waver.

That ever-relaxed face of hers went hard.

Young as I was, I got drunk on the thrill of having startled her for the first time in my life, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and I swung again.

Why I did it, even I don't know.

It wasn't as if I hated her then. Even then she was the only one who could hold me up on Siberia's merciless battlefield.

But a wall I thought I would never scale my whole life looked like it was cracking, and so I swung without thinking.

A vivid blood-red thrust shot out. The path bent once before Sister's reeling blade, then stopped in front of her throat like a reaper's scythe come to harvest a soul.

No. It should have stopped.

"…Ah?"

Three years ago, I was not a perfect swordswoman.

I had finished the Sky Sword, but I still couldn't handle Sky Slash, and my eyes were nowhere near as precise as they are now.

Less broken, less worn down—back then I was still an unfinished blade.

And the price for carelessly unleashing a sword meant to kill people was steep. The edge that should have stopped at her throat advanced another centimeter.

"S-Sister!?"

Shhk—!

Bright blood sprayed. It cut across Siberia's white snow and nearly reached my cheek.

I yanked the sword back in a panic, but the wound itself could not be undone. Even after the world returned to its proper colors, Sister's throat remained a sinister red.

I don't remember what state of mind I was in when I brought her back.

When I burst into Maria's tent with Sister on my back, one of my shoes was gone. I had crammed so much mana into physical reinforcement that my mind was swimming.

"…Mmm. Luckily it isn't a serious wound. She twisted her head at the last second, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so she avoided anything fatal."

Fortunately, they said it wasn't critical.

But I still couldn't look Sister in the face. Guilt over nearly killing the person I loved. Fear that she might hate me for it.

"Lift your head, Serena."

The thing I had dreaded never came.

A warm hand stroked my cheek and tilted my chin up. The sea-blue eyes that met mine held no resentment, no blame—only clear water.

"As if Sister could ever hate you."

"Uuu…"

The moment I heard that, the tears broke free on their own.

Guilt and gratitude, and some tangled knot of feelings I couldn't name—I must have cried into her arms with all of it still knotted inside me.

"Assassination Style… a sword for killing people, is it?"

"Hic… yeah…"

"Mmm. Honestly, part of me wants to tell you never to use it… but in this line of work, not killing people is hard. Humanoid bosses exist, after all."

She patted me and whispered,

"So let's make a promise. Before you use that technique, think about it just one more time. Deal?"

"…Yeah!"

I had promised. Clearly.

And yet once again, I had gone and done as I pleased.

It felt like I had been dragged right back to that day.

"Ah… Ara…"

Just now was a little scary, you know.

Those words, laced with faint fear, kept circling my head.

I didn't want to be someone people flinched from anymore.

I didn't want to be hated by the person who had helped me.

I didn't want to lose another bond. Not now.

After losing Sister and my comrades and surviving alone, there was no way someone like me had any real social skills left.

I didn't want to let a precious connection slip away, but I had no idea what to say. All I could do was hang my head.

"…"

"Ah—when I said scary, I didn't mean it in a bad way!"

What cut through my silence was Ara's hand.

A soft touch cupped the cheek of the girl who had sunk into herself and was staring a hole into the ground.

"Not… in a bad way…?"

"That guy was a scumbag sniper, right? I'm not the type who hates sniping that much, but people who dig into other people's wounds? Those I hate on a human-to-human level. I think it's fine to get a little scary with trash like that."

I felt her hand lift my chin.

Not forceful. Not coercive. Just enough pressure to guide the direction—a gentle hand full of consideration that reflexively called up old memories.

"So don't worry. I'm not looking at you like you're weird or anything."

"R-Really?"

"Yeah. Just now? You were seriously cool."

The gloom that had been crushing me brightened in an instant.

I was the kind of person who was terrified of getting close to people, and yet at the same time I wanted praise and affection—a walking contradiction.

I knew that cheering up over a few compliments would get me called an easy girl. I knew the viewers would roast me for it later. I still couldn't hold it in.

"…Heh."

"Are you sure it's okay?"

"Yeah, of course!"

Only after hearing Ara's firm answer and seeing the friendly chat flood did something like relief finally settle over me.

And that was what scared me.

Because this relief felt too good. Because the warmth on my cheek was too gentle. Because once my need for approval got fed, I was afraid I would start wanting more and more.

"Um… am I getting in the way?"

"Not even a little? Like I said earlier, I'm grateful. Thanks to you we cleaned up that sniper real nice, didn't we?"

Forming bonds with people terrified me.

I hated living every second wondering whether someone precious would still be alive tomorrow—whether I was going to lose them again this time.

A place where if two went out, one came back dead. A hell where survival rates swung between thirty and sixty percent. A battlefield of pure despair where most new recruits were wiped out within a week.

That was the Siberia War.

Out there, human relationships meant nothing. There were barely any living people left to begin with.

Not wanting to lose anyone else, I had shut the door to my heart. At the very least, if I never made a bond, I would never have to forget one.

"Then…"

But the place I was standing now was no longer a battlefield.

The most peaceful city in the world. Seoul, South Korea.

Here, war was a story from a distant country, and Awakened weren't expendable—they were heroes who cleared gates. A place where I no longer needed to lose anyone.

"Then… I'll do my best."

So I decided to try reaching out to people one more time.

A fragile hope bloomed—that maybe, in this peaceful world, things could be different from before.

"Hnn…"

Maria watched the scene quietly through the screen.

Honestly, she had been a little worried. Even with the blessing she had placed, she had feared that once Haneul actually entered the virtual world, the PTSD might flare up again.

But maybe that had just been her fretting.

Or maybe it was thanks to the memories of everyone who had helped her.

So far, no particular symptoms had shown up in Haneul.

"Thank goodness."

It had already been three years since Haneul last said she would watch over someone. After the Nightmare of Vladivostok, the girl had closed her heart to everyone.

For that same Haneul to so readily offer to protect someone was enormous progress.

"So yes, it's definitely a good thing, but…"

This streamer, Ara. Was she a decent person?

A little worry was only natural.

Long brown hair, brown eyes. A height of 170 centimeters—pretty tall for a woman. An easygoing, lively personality. A pretty dog-like beauty.

Ara had the looks of the ideal "girl best friend," and true to that personality, she was someone without any particular scandals.

Her nature didn't seem bad either.

She was the one who had rolled up her sleeves and stepped in when Haneul was in danger. Maria felt gratitude for that as well.

But… she couldn't help fretting over the what-ifs.

Haneul's condition was still that fragile.

If someone approached her freely and poured affection on her, she might end up clinging to that person completely.

"Maybe I should do a little background check."

She didn't mean digging into private life.

Just cross-checking whether there were any buried controversies.

That was a guardian's duty.

Thinking that, she turned on the computer—and her phone started ringing.

"…?"

A little question mark floated through her head as she picked up. A stiff voice, the kind unique to government agents, came through.

"…Yes. Why are you calling?"

"Ha?"

Maria's gently relaxed expression hardened in an instant. Whenever the World Government came looking for the Sword Saint, it had never been with good intentions.

A child broken in every way that mattered. She was only just beginning to find happiness, and Maria had no intention of letting anyone ruin that at will.

But the cold voice of the World Government agent shattered Maria's hopes without mercy.