Nightmare (2)
“How did you know?”
A familiar voice drifted from the figure whose head had transformed into a cluster of black roses.
“The opening is exactly the same as the way you always played, Yuho. It’d be weirder if I didn’t recognize it.”
I glanced at the chess pieces scattered across the board and let the corner of my mouth curl up.
Chess is divided into the opening, middlegame, and endgame. Among them, the opening—the strategy that sets the tone for the early phase—is as unique to each person as a fingerprint.
Because every human carries their own habits, values, biases, and preconceptions.
“King’s Gambit. It’s considered outdated these days… but you always insisted on it because you wanted to keep a little romance alive.”
“You actually remembered.”
“No. I never forgot it. Not even once.”
I spoke softly, gazing at Yuho, who sat bound to a chair with everything above her neck composed entirely of black roses. The gentle, warm voice—the same one that had convinced me to save Demian just moments ago—rang clearly in my ears once more.
“…What the hell is going on right now? You’re really alive in this world, right?”
I asked with a slightly trembling voice. No matter how I looked at her, her current state was far from normal.
It was as if she were being threatened, forced to play chess against her will. Her body was pinned in place by rose vines while her hands moved the pieces.
“Well, what do you think?”
“…You look like you’re in a lot of pain. Your head has literally turned into black roses, for starters. What could this nightmare possibly mean?”
──Tap.
But An Yuho didn’t stop. She moved a white chess piece with steady confidence. In perfect sync, her opponent’s piece slid forward as well.
Every single motion carried the same unshakable self-assurance she used to show whenever we played against each other.
“I always told you, Harang. You need to understand metaphors.”
“Come on, can’t you at least tell me where you are? Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me since you left?”
“I’m sorry, but…”
──Clack.
Her opponent accepted the King’s Gambit and took the pawn. Yuho immediately countered by advancing her knight, pressing the attack without hesitation.
Kieseritzky Gambit.
The opponent moved a black pawn to threaten the knight. She responded by coordinating her knight and queen in a joint assault.
It was the best move available to White, but the fact that she was at a disadvantage the moment she opened with King’s Gambit remained unchanged.
This opening had long been dismissed as obsolete. The instant Black successfully blocked every one of White’s attacking lines, defeat was all but guaranteed. One of the old chess champions had even called it “an opening that can only lose.” It was theoretically dense, difficult to play, and if the attack faltered even slightly, it simply handed victory to the opponent.
“Harang, you once played a game you knew you would lose. Why did you do that?”
“Hm? Obviously because I wanted to learn your name.”
“Exactly. Sometimes people have to do things even when they know they’ll lose. What matters isn’t winning or losing. It’s the will to see it through to the end.”
The black knight moved again. She sacrificed her rook just to capture an enemy pawn.
──Clack!
“You and I are neither heroes, demon lords, nor gods. We’re just ordinary humans, Harang. And because of that, there’s only one possible move left to us.”
When An Yuho moved a piece with her enormous hand, the scenery around us shifted once more. Voices of other people began to echo through the space.
The pieces that had been nothing more than statues—pawns, queens, rooks, knights—were no longer inanimate. They became living, breathing people who moved across the board.
My name is Hero □■□■! Even if I die here, the soul of the hero… the will of humanity will endure forever!
In a space piled high with corpses stretching beyond the horizon, a white-haired man raised a holy sword toward the sky and shouted.
The Holy Sword Einherjar.
The man wielding the same blade I had once used stood facing a black piece across from him. No matter how I looked at him, he was clearly different from the current Hero, Demian, in both appearance and build.
A previous-generation hero, I realized.
And then the man slowly collapsed.
The black knight killed the hero, erasing him without a trace.
A single sword may not be enough, but perhaps hundreds of thousands of blades could kill ■□■.
Another figure holding the holy sword appeared on the chessboard and spoke. He led an army of millions, yet every time a black piece moved, his forces crumbled helplessly.
Then the next person appeared.
Please run. There is no □■ in this world. Saving even one more life is my only remaining duty.
This time another holy sword wielder attempted castling to hide himself. But he too vanished without a trace.
“…Demian?”
And then a face I knew all too well appeared on the chessboard, taking up the holy sword in turn.
Unlike the others, his entire body was pure white like a chess piece, yet his eyes burned with fierce determination.
The white Demian did not answer my call. He remained locked in a standoff with his opponent, as if the game had not yet truly begun.
“I told you before, didn’t I? Heroes are beings who save everyone… but even heroes need someone to save them.”
“Yeah. You definitely said that.”
“Become Demian’s comrade. Save the hero.”
I nodded as I watched Yuho, who seemed to be pondering her next move on the enormous chessboard in order to defeat her opponent.
I still had no idea what situation An Yuho was in, who she was fighting, or why she had sent me a message connected to Demian.
“…You have some kind of plan, and that’s why you’re asking me for help.”
But there was one thing I understood better than anyone.
“You’ve never been the type to pick a fight you know you’ll lose, Yuho. Right?”
The literature-loving girl I knew as An Yuho was someone who loved victory more than anyone and cherished romance above all.
If she was deliberately continuing this game on a massive chessboard where every previous hero had fallen, there had to be a reason.
I was certain of it.
“Of course. The fact that I told you my name back then was basically me going easy on you.”
“We finally meet again after so long… and now we have to part once more. That’s a shame.”
I looked toward the spot where Yuho sat and swallowed a bitter smile. Even after more than twenty years, the feeling of being with her remained unchanged, as eternal as ever.
“Parting isn’t forever, is it? The day will come when we meet again.”
“Yeah. I’ll believe in that.”
I clenched my fist tightly. Veins stood out on the back of my hand, but I didn’t raise my voice or get angry.
Yuho had always been the kind of adorable girlfriend who would come up with plans I knew nothing about or prepare surprises just to startle me.
This time too, she surely had her own reasons. Deep in my heart, I trusted An Yuho completely.
And so she transformed once more, stepping across the giant chessboard toward me—
“Go to the underground of the Holy Kingdom Elysium, Harang. The truth of this world lies there.”
“……”
“You’ll keep the promise we made, won’t you?”
She had returned to the appearance of the literature girl with her unchanged black hair and snow-white skin. Smiling, she placed something into my hand.
“My beloved pawn. I hope you will end this tiresome infinity with your own hands.”
It was a plain, ordinary-looking white pawn.
The weakest piece on the chessboard, yet it remained in my palm, carrying her warmth.
And then—
“……!!!!”
Crack.
Before my eyes, her entire body began transforming into flowers and crumbling in a grotesque spectacle.
With terrible agony, my vision plummeted downward.
“He really never thinks about how precious his own body is. He doesn’t even realize how worried I get…”
While Shade was trapped in a nightmare of his past self, the Demian in reality was nursing him with a pout on her face.
Why had he written that copy in the first place, and then even resorted to using his final resort?
She wanted to scold him and act like she already knew everything, but she couldn’t.
“…You really deserve a good scolding.”
She peeled off his sweat-soaked clothes and wiped his body with a dry towel. Her fingertips trembled slightly, but there was no hesitation in her movements.
Of course, whenever her hands brushed over his defined muscles or abs, her cheeks would flush and she would swallow hard, but he showed no sign of waking up.
“I thought striking first so the others wouldn’t get interested in you was a perfect plan… but seeing them misunderstand you like today doesn’t feel good at all…”
Click.
Demian carefully removed the white mask Shade always wore. The self-inflicted burn scars he had created by burning his own face were revealed.
“…When in reality he’s actually really handsome and incredibly kind. Sometimes I regret not listening to Sinclair. I feel a little sorry about it.”
Demian lay down so close that her breath brushed against Shade’s face, then gently traced the burned cheek with her fingertips as she spoke.
A secret affection she could not yet tell anyone bloomed at the tips of her fingers.
A figure appeared in Demian’s vision. Someone who looked almost exactly like her, except for the ring on the left ring finger and the longer hair.
“Still… Sinclair, knowing about a painful future and actually experiencing it are two completely different things.”
She addressed the person who could easily be mistaken for her twin sister—calling her Sinclair.
“……”
The illusion visible only to Demian was egging on the hero who was secretly nurturing her feelings.
“No matter what, I won’t cross that line. Just hiding the fact that I’m a woman already makes my chest feel this tight… Ah, this should work.”
Like a heart demon straight out of a martial arts novel, Demian’s mind was swayed by Sinclair’s words. She reached for the small teddy bear sitting on the table.
Chu.
Demian lightly pressed the bear’s snout against Shade’s lips. The corners of her own mouth twitched upward into a soft arc.
“This is your fault, you know. The Shade I know from the future is just too popular… that’s the problem.”
The small teddy bear was a bit crudely stitched in places, yet every gap had been meticulously and lovingly repaired.
Demian’s gaze alternated between the repaired seams on the bear and the scar on Shade’s palm.
As if there were some hidden connection between the two, the teddy bear wore the dog tag Shade had used during his mercenary days.
“This is just… my way of punishing you. Because you made me worry again. It means you have to take responsibility.”
She whispered to herself while cradling the little bear tenderly.
Then, carefully, she slowly pressed her own lips to the exact spot on the bear’s snout where Shade’s lips had just touched.
“……Hah.”
Chu, smooch…♡
After a little while, she began kissing it with such passionate intensity that it almost felt lustful, revealing a twisted possessiveness.
“Haa… haa…”
Shade woke from the nightmare with a scream, drenched in cold sweat. By then, Demian had already slipped away from his side.
In his right hand, tightly clenched, was a white pawn.
As if the nightmare he had just experienced had not been a dream at all, but cold, hard reality.