Chapter 11
Chapter 11
First Meeting (10)
My consciousness fades.
Just before my vision went dark, the last thing I saw was Yuki’s distorted face, clutching me and crying out.
And then, in the abyss where my consciousness sank, a fragment of an old memory surfaced.
When I was very young, I realized that I saw the world differently from others.
The world was made of countless lines.
When I looked at a tree, I could see the optimal angle at which it would fall. When I saw a drop of water fall, I could tell exactly where it should strike a rock to create the biggest ripple.
While others swung their swords tens of thousands of times to find the perfect line, I could reach the end with a single swing.
To see lines others could not—
was the ultimate efficiency, achieving the best result with the least movement.
The countless lines entangled in everything.
As a child, I thought it was a blessing.
Until that day.
It was a dim alley on a night of heavy rain.
At thirteen, returning home after an errand, I encountered a large, drunken woman.
She was a third-rate mercenary, and when she saw me—a young boy—she smiled unpleasantly.
"Hey kid, you’ve got a pretty face. Want to come with me and have some fun?"
Her rough hand slid down my cheek and grabbed my neck.
In that moment—
countless red lines filled my vision.
The more I tried to resist, the clearer they became.
Push here, she falls.
Strike here, she suffocates.
And…
touch here, she dies.
Terrified, I only tried to push her arm away.
Without realizing it, I followed the most perfect line.
I pressed the inside of her elbow and lightly stepped on her foot as she lost balance.
Then—
thud.
She fell backward.
It was only a light push.
But her head struck a jagged stone on the ground.
One movement.
One second.
A dull sound.
Her breath stopped, drowned out by the rain.
I stood there, frozen.
Watching her life end so unrealistically.
I hadn’t meant to kill her.
I was afraid.
What have I done?
Shaking, I returned home and told my parents everything.
"Ian, close your eyes. It’s not your fault."
Her death was ruled an accident.
But the nightmare of that alley never left me.
I realized then—
if I followed the lines I saw, the world would break too easily.
From that day on, I suppressed myself.
To appear weak.
To seem like an ordinary boy.
To never stand out.
That was the only way to preserve a peaceful life.
"...Ian. Ian, please open your eyes."
The first thing I felt was a sweet lavender scent tickling my nose.
And warm drops falling onto the back of my hand.
My vision returned.
A luxurious bedroom ceiling came into view.
My whole body ached as if beaten.
A heavy pressure weighed on my chest.
"...My lady?"
My voice came out hoarse.
Yuki was sitting right beside the bed.
Her eyes were red and bloodshot, her usual arrogant composure gone, her hair disheveled.
"Ian! You’re awake? Does anything hurt? Where does it hurt more? Healer! Come here quickly!"
Before I could answer, she hugged me tightly.
Pain shot through my ribs.
But I felt her shoulders trembling.
I couldn’t push her away.
"My lady... if you hug me that hard, I might actually die..."
At my weak protest, Yuki quickly let go.
But she still held my hand tightly.
As if afraid I might disappear.
"S-sorry! I panicked... The healer said your ribs are cracked. You need complete rest for a while."
She wiped her tears with her sleeve.
"...What kind of dream did you have? You kept crying, saying you didn’t want to die..."
Her voice trembled.
She must think it was because of her mother.
But it wasn’t that.
"Is everyone else alright? You’re not being punished, are you?"
At my question, tears fell again.
"Idiot! Why are you worrying about others right now?! I thought you were going to die!"
"...My lady, like this, you just look like a crying brat."
"Who are you calling a brat at a time like this?!"
She lightly hit my chest—carefully avoiding hurting me—then quickly pulled her hand back, flustered.
"Did that hurt? I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking."
"It didn’t hurt. Compared to your mother’s sword, it’s nothing."
Yuki lowered her head.
"...I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I dragged you into this."
Her voice was unusually weak.
"I didn’t think Mother would actually swing her sword seriously... I’m sorry. I forced you into this..."
"...If you apologize like that, it just feels strange. Treat me like your sandbag as usual. That’s more helpful."
Her expression became complicated.
"No. I won’t do that anymore. I won’t even pretend to hit you."
"So I’m fired? That’s good news. I’ll pack my things and go back to the village—"
"No! From now on, I’ll take care of you myself! You’re not leaving my sight!"
"That sounds worse than being fired."
Yuki reached for a tray.
"Be quiet. A commoner should just accept what a noble gives and stay still while being taken care of."
On it were neatly cut fruits and steaming porridge.
"Now, say ‘ah.’"
She scooped a spoonful and brought it to my mouth.
"My arms are fine. It’s my ribs that are broken."
"My heart is broken! So say ‘ah.’ Or I’ll force it in."
I sighed and opened my mouth.
The warm porridge entered.
"...My lady, why does this taste fishy?"
"Oh, that? I added a drop of Kara’s eel extract. She made such a fuss about you needing strength."
...So it’s eel extract again.
I frowned but swallowed it anyway.
Yuki watched carefully, then smiled slightly in relief.
"Ian... that nightmare earlier... was it really because of my mother?"
I paused.
"Or... like the village girls said... was it because I treated you too harshly? Was it really that painful being with me?"
I looked at the ceiling before answering.
"No. Just an old memory. Something I want to forget."
Her fingers hesitantly brushed through my hair.
"My mother said your sword felt like you’ve locked yourself in a prison."
She hit the mark.
I avoided her gaze.
"I’m just lazy. Swinging a sword makes you sweat, gives you sore muscles, and winning brings envy. I prefer reading quietly."
Yuki leaned closer and placed my hand over her chest.
Thump. Thump.
Her heartbeat was clear.
"...I understand. If that’s what you want."
She sat quietly by my side.
The crackling of the fireplace filled the silence.
After a while, she adjusted my blanket and left.
Later, she returned with a small package.
Inside were sugar-coated cookies.
"Here, eat this. It’ll get rid of the eel taste."
"...Where did this come from?"
"I made them. Just now. I thought I should put some effort in so you recover faster."
I looked at her hands.
Bandages covered her fingers.
Hands that swung swords so confidently had lost to flour and ovens.
"You made these? Hopefully there’s no poison."
"Do you want to die?! Even the head maid said they taste fine!"
Blushing, she shoved a cookie into my mouth.
The taste was overly sweet.
But not unpleasant.
"How is it? Is it good?"
Her eyes were full of anticipation.
"...It’s too sweet. I think you poured the entire sugar jar."