It'll Be Fine, Right?

The Haneul that Maria saw was a hollow girl.

An orphan cast into a brutal world, subjected to horrific experiments, stripped of family, left wandering a battlefield after losing comrades and brothers-in-arms—alive only because she couldn't die.

In Maria's eyes, what kept Haneul breathing wasn't some goal or sense of mission. The sole reason she still drew breath was the comrades who had gone ahead of her.

So that their sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Because she couldn't throw away with her own hands the very things they had risked their lives to protect.

Unable even to contemplate laying a hand on a body that was the legacy of the people she loved. Living mechanically, cradling nothing in her heart—that was Lee Haneul.

In that sense, this was a rather positive sign.

That look of jealousy… or rather, something a little cuter, like a child whose toy had been snatched away. That sulky pout, and the sharp words that stood in such contrast to it, were things you would never have found in the old Haneul.

Jealousy is an emotion rooted in possessiveness. It's one of the negative reactions that surfaces when you feel someone is threatening a position that belongs to you alone.

Which meant Haneul felt a kind of ownership over her viewers' affection.

…Though she herself seemed determined to deny it.

Honestly, Maria had thought it over a little.

"Hmm…"

As a healer who dealt with the mind as well—and who'd done more than a few counseling sessions because of it—she was used to reading people's hearts.

She could see Haneul not wanting her attention stolen, yet also feeling too guilty to refuse it. And the way she was floundering, unable to properly recognize her own feelings.

So Maria decided to give her just a little help.

"Oh my. Don't tell me you're jealous?"

"N-No I'm not!?"

The answer came instantly.

With an expression and tone that, to anyone listening, made it painfully clear she was not fine at all.

Of course the viewers weren't buying it.

The vicious users of the Swordsmanship Gallery—who lived for nothing more than roasting Ju-ttak—weren't soft enough to let a hard-won opportunity slip through their fingers.

This was the moment all the karma Lee Haneul had stacked while ruling as Ju-ttak came crashing down at once.

"Hey! Who's calling me cute!?"

Haneul scrambled belatedly to quiet the exploding chat, but honestly… it was already too late.

From the start of the stream she'd been startling in the cutest ways. She'd gone tumbling over, piled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up karma with those ridiculous slip-ups, then put on a jealous little act—and now she was telling them not to call her cute?

Wasn't that basically begging to be bullied?

Even in the mind of Maria, who genuinely cared for and loved Haneul, that thought had taken root.

And yet her physicals were so absurdly good that the viewers' comments were being suppressed in an instant. The sight of her clenching her jaw and putting on a deadly serious face… just to censor the chat. It was painfully endearing.

Unfortunately, there was nothing left to protect Haneul from Maria, who was already chanting for Ju-ttak's downfall.

"Hmph. You think a Siberia War veteran's physique is that eas— Hkyah!?"

"How is a kid this cute even real?"

"W-Wait a second…?!"

Haneul, completely absorbed in her duel with the chat, never noticed Maria's sneaky hands. By the time her body had sunk deep into that embrace, it was already too late.

At the sudden physical contact, Haneul dropped her mouse. Maria didn't miss the opening—she seized both of those now-empty hands and held them tight.

"Heh. Where do you think you're going?"

She hugged the squirming Haneul close and nuzzled her cheek. The girl who'd started to resist soon surrendered quietly to Maria's touch.

Resisting was pointless anyway—and it wasn't a situation where she could resist even if she wanted to.

"…Ah. Right."

Only then did Haneul grasp her predicament and put up a cute little struggle—but she couldn't overturn the difference in build.

Martial arts existed to defeat opponents stronger than yourself. There were countless techniques for redirecting force and toppling a stronger foe… but none that did it without hurting them.

And so the subdued Haneul found herself on the receiving end of a flood of shameless comments from the viewers.

"Aaah… aaaaah…"

That milky-pale face flushed red in real time. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Like a pure white canvas taking on a wash of pink, the gradient spreading from her cheeks to the tips of her ears was strangely fascinating.

And as Maria watched that sight unfold, a sulky little whisper reached her ears.

"U-Um… isn't this enough…?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Enough of what?"

"You've held me long enough already…!"

Those relentlessly trembling blue eyes were beautiful. Centered on a deep blue point, the irises that radiated outward while holding the light grew more mysterious the longer you looked. Stare blankly and you might get pulled right in.

That thought led to another—that this was the first time she'd ever seen this child from so close.

It was only natural, perhaps. This was a child who had never once allowed anyone that kind of distance. And yet here was a lively light in her eyes that the old Haneul—the one terrified of forging new connections—could never have shown. It was lovely.

"Mmm… I don't think so."

"Huh…?"

"This is the first time I've gotten to look at you this close, isn't it?"

"Ah…"

Only then did the expression of the girl who'd been mindlessly nestled in the hug begin to change.

Thinking back, she realized she hadn't let anyone this close since her sister died. She simply hadn't had the courage to start any new relationships.

But what about now? After being helped so many times, receiving so much attention, being treated as… cute… she seemed to have changed without even noticing.

She wasn't supposed to be like this.

The more connections you formed with people, the more weaknesses you piled up.

Every time you gave love and attention and heart to an anonymous crowd beyond an internet stream, the list of people you had to protect only grew longer.

If a major Gate incident hit Korea and a viewer she used to see all the time simply stopped showing up… it would genuinely hurt.

There was still so much left to resolve. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shady things the World Government was hiding needed digging up, and she had to prepare for whatever lay behind them.

And yet she was craving attention. Jealous—arbitrarily, selfishly—because she wanted even the attention that was going to someone else.

Was this a good change?

…Honestly, she didn't know.

She still wasn't ready to face that kind of attention head-on.

Still.

Still…

"Well. If it's the first time… I suppose I can make a special exception."

Because it was the first time.

Because feeling this way—for the first time since her sister died—

this much should be fine, right?

"How could this possibly be fine…!"

I hurled my phone in a fit of irritation. It sailed across the room and sank soft into the sofa. The comment notifications still buzzing away made my face heat up on its own.

There was no particular reason.

I just couldn't stand looking at the absolute dumpster fire the Swordsmanship Gallery had become.

Sprawled on the bed staring at the ceiling, the gallery's concept-post list floated up behind my eyelids like an afterimage.

"Aaagh…! Are you people actually insane!?"

The more I thought about it the redder my cheeks burned, so I put everything I had into flinging a pillow at the ceiling. With a soft thump, the afterimages scattered into smoke.

I snatched the falling pillow out of the air, hugged it tight, and only after managing to forget all those cute-smearing hit pieces and bad-faith takes could I finally return to my original train of thought.

The matter of the Saintess and Vatican City.

"…If I tip them off in advance, they'll just lie in wait somewhere and try to abduct me, won't they?"

Sadly, tags like abduction, confinement, and training weren't my cup of tea, so pass. I'd have to sneak in instead.

And what if I ran into her once I got there?

Not my problem. That was for the-me-of-a-few-days-from-now to figure out. I had faith in future me.

Besides, my original identity—Sword Saint Serena Eustania—had free access to Vatican City often enough that it wouldn't raise any major flags with the World Government.

"Either way, it's about time I got a physical checkup."

As incredible a healer as Maria was, she still couldn't fully treat my body.

Because of the experiments, I'd been forcibly given an "Eye" with low compatibility. To keep a body whose hardware and software didn't match in working order, I needed to see the Saintess at least once a year.

So when was I going?

Hmm… about a week from now should do, right?

And so a week passed.

I'd posted a break notice and was about to board the transport bound for Vatican City when my phone rang.

A call from someone I hadn't contacted.

It didn't take long to figure out who the only person who knew I was headed for the Vatican was.

…Just a little, I found myself resenting Maria.