Honor and Utility, and Glory

"Pff— hnh, hahahaha...!"

Watching the new Par-ttak suffer, and the people doing everything they could to mess ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with them, I couldn't help the laughter that burst out of me.

I just felt good.

The stream had ended, but the noisy warmth of being with the viewers still hadn't faded. The fact that two hundred people had come just to watch me felt good. Being praised by strangers was always a happy thing.

"Alright—"

So I pushed my exhausted body up.

If I didn't clean the room while the dopamine was still flowing, this place would turn into a pigsty in no time. When the will to move actually showed up for once, I had to put it to work.

"Hmm, where did I put my medals..."

Muttering to myself, I started with the disaster of a desk. I dug a trash bag out of some corner, swept empty cans into it, and picked up the plastic wrappers scattered across the floor.

After about fifteen minutes of that, the room finally started looking like a place where a person lived. While I was at it, I opened the wardrobe to put away the underwear strewn across the floor.

"Euh— eh— eh— achoo...!"

A pale cloud of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dust billowed out of the long-unopened wardrobe. After a few sneezes I couldn't take it anymore and activated my ability; the clump of dust burst apart in midair with a soft poof.

"Ugh, I really need to air this place out..."

I was about to put the folded underwear away when I spotted something glowing ruby-red beneath the piled clothes. It was the medal I'd promised to show earlier.

A cross-shaped decoration roughly sixty millimeters across. Around the double-headed eagle that had once stood for a ruined Russia, the medal's motto was engraved: Польза, честь и слава.

"Utility, honor, and glory... is that it?"

Utility, symbolizing the medal's worth. The honor and glory that would fall to its recipient. I turned the meaning over in my mind for a while, then put the medal back in the wardrobe.

It wasn't something that suited me.

What utility was there in a thing buried under a pile of underwear? What honor and glory could belong to someone who had hidden herself in a corner of her room, afraid of people, afraid of her own memories?

This was something my sister should have received—the one who had sacrificed herself—not the me who was still alive. It wasn't something I could proudly show off in the first place.

There were fewer than a hundred recipients of the 1st Class Great Patriotic Order of Merit. Among them, the only civilian was the Sword Saint. The identity it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pointed to was far too easy to guess; Lee Haneul could never display this medal.

"Ugh, aren't there any other medals around..."

I had survived seven years on the front lines. Lasting that long had earned me medals of every kind.

In a war so desperate they needed something to hold out as hope, the military had propagandized the Sword Saint as a superhuman who had transcended human limits. And wartime propaganda mostly meant medal ceremonies.

I hadn't thrown a single one away. I couldn't discard the ones I'd received together with my sister.

On the first day after moving in, I was sure I'd put them somewhere safe... I was sure of it...

The moment I focused, trying to drag the memory up, my vision wavered.

"Ugh...!?"

With a crash, the world lurched and my body crumpled. Before I could even panic, my senses began expanding on their own—following the thought that I wanted to find the medals, completely ignoring any command to stop.

Senses sharpened more than tenfold swept through the room. I squeezed my eyes shut against the splitting pain in my head, and the room rose up inside my mind as a three-dimensional model.

"Nngh...!"

But that wasn't the real problem. My head felt like it was burning hot, and something ached behind my eyes. This thoroughly wrecked body of mine was creaking, on the verge of coming apart.

"Ah, fuck. The meds...!"

Only then did I remember the mistake I'd made.

Like an idiot, I'd burned through the full effect of the medicine just to show off my swordsmanship, then gotten so high off the stream that I'd started moving around without taking another dose. Honestly, lasting this long was already impressive.

"The meds—where..."

Fortunately, finding them wasn't hard. My senses, pushed to their limit, locked onto the syringe lying out on the desk in an instant.

I stretched out a hand and tried to push myself up—then a warm touch pressed gently down on my shoulder.

— Serena.

"Sis...ter?"

It felt like my whole body had locked up. That was the voice of someone I missed so much, someone I wanted to see so badly it hurt.

I'd spent the last three years desperately trying to forget her—so why did she have to surface now, of all times? If she did... if she did, I wouldn't be able to move.

— Heh. It's been a while, hasn't it?

"Ugh—let go...!"

I knew better than anyone that this was nothing more than a phantom my mind had spun up—a meaningless hallucination.

But eyes that could pierce the essence of the world just by looking, and a brilliant mind that could process all that information, had the ability to make an illusion feel real.

— Aren't you happy to see me?

"Nngh..."

So I couldn't refuse the hand pressing on my shoulder, the touch wrapping around my arm. Even if I came to hate everything in the world... I could never hate the sister who had given her life for me.

The strength left my legs. My senses were running wild, and I had no strength left to go get the medicine that would suppress them. All I could do was beg the phantom.

"S-Sister, just let go for a second...!"

— Why?

"I—I'm hitting my limit. My head... hurts..."

I would have preferred a vision that cursed me out. Being damned for surviving alone, being blamed, being cut down with sharp words—I'd been starting to get used to that.

But this kind, I truly hated.

Not condemning me, just holding me warm. A sticky, tar-like phantom I couldn't shake free of no matter how hard I tried.

— It's okay. Everything's okay. It'll only hurt a little, and after that it'll be easy...

"I don't... want to..."

My life was not mine alone.

It belonged to the sister and comrades who had died for me. To the countless soldiers who had thrown themselves in front of disaster to buy time. To everyone who pinned their hopes on the name Sword Saint.

That was why I couldn't die. I had tied a rope to the ceiling and walked right up to it—but in the end, I never took that last step.

Because the one thing I absolutely refused to do was make my sister's sacrifice meaningless.

— No. It's okay.

— Serena, you've worked so hard all this time.

— You can rest now.

"...Really?"

The last of the instinct fighting the touch scattered, and the strength drained from my body. I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the warm sensation the illusion had made.

I knew it was fake—but the words telling me to rest easy were a sweet temptation I couldn't refuse, even knowing better.

I just wanted to believe them. As the tension left my body, my hands and feet seemed to grow cold.

What snapped my mind awake was something the sister in the vision said.

— Yeah. I just don't want my beloved other half to suffer any longer.

"Uh..."

My sister would never say anything like that.

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

Someone who had given her life for me would never tell me to die.

These were only the words I wanted to hear.

A phantom my mind had spun up on its own, because I wanted to give up.

"Liar."

I murmured it under my breath and shook the touch away. The illusion burst apart with a soft pop.

But it was already too late. With my senses stretched to their limit, my vision was steadily darkening.

"...Ah."

In the end, when I tried to force myself up, I crashed back down. My eyes began to close, little by little.

How many minutes could I last like this?

Two hours? Three? I didn't know exactly. But if my body stayed like this, unable to move...

And then, right before my sight sank completely into darkness—

"Haneul...!"

A woman with golden hair lifted my body into her arms.