Episode 0-b. The One Who Tumbles (2)
If the world had been at peace.
If no one had ever harbored hatred.
If humans hadn't been made that way from the start.
Could I have stood beside Ain in a problem-free landscape?
Though I'd been shunned by people for being born with gray, could I one day find a happy ending at his side?
It's ridiculous for someone like me to even imagine such things.
But I often thought about it anyway.
It stemmed from the affection he'd given me, but it grew into a bitterness from pushing forward, ever forward, only to crash against an immense wall and be left alone.
Beyond the empire, where I could pretend to be normal, there were people everywhere who might discover my true nature.
Just as Rendo and Rain watched over me, along with Idrin, there were always those eager to kill any gray.
Behind people's happy smiles lurked a thick undercurrent of loathing for the gray.
That was the vast world—even Ain, who had upended my small one—couldn't change. A sad landscape.
So if someone asked whether I'd spent the last three years lost in delusions, foolishly waiting for Ain...
I'd say no.
I agonized.
After the day he left, after the bracelet snapped, I imagined countless scenarios and wrestled endlessly with my thoughts.
He'd told me to act as I wished.
But what I wanted was always to be of help to him.
I hoped that standing at his side wouldn't become a burden.
So I constantly pondered how I could stand proudly beside him.
And I worked at it.
To fulfill what he needed, to become someone who wouldn't harm him.
I agonized over what that meant, sought it out, delved deep into it.
I strove to become a person useful to Ain.
To put it simply, Ain was strong, but not in terms of raw physical power.
So I began studying the magic I'd always hidden away.
Idrin, the librarian.
"Asha, too much ash is swirling around. At this rate, wherever you go, it'll just scream 'I'm gray—please kill me!'"
She scrutinized every step of the process, probed it meticulously, pursued it relentlessly, and marveled at the progress.
"Asha, I'm no mage, but even I can tell what your magic is like at a glance. It's raw instinct, spewing primary bursts of light. Feels like you're just swinging your talent around wildly."
She pinpointed my flaws, prodded them, unearthed them, then critiqued them sharply, evaluated them strictly, tempered them harshly.
"If you can't fix even that, how do you plan to venture beyond this market street? Asha, do you just want to find Ain and commit joint suicide?"
But none of it hurt.
I was sorely lacking and foolish, a woman more beast than human with this gray inside me.
I desperately needed someone's help.
"This is a draft of a basic magic tome I stole from the imperial library long ago, along with notes on mana flow principles. And this is a copy of the temple library's guide to divine power usage."
"...Is that really okay?"
"If you don't get caught, it's innocent. Besides, those places have hundreds of thousands of books—no one notices if a couple go missing."
"..."
"Hm, but to prepare for if we do get caught, I'd appreciate it if you held onto copies of my research materials so far."
Though I couldn't properly answer whether that help was truly righteous.
In short, that's how the three years passed.
Library visits, once a month, shrank to weekly after parting with Ain.
Whenever I felt something lacking or a question arose, I'd go even before the week was up.
Just to become a slightly better person.
To catch even the footprints he'd left far behind, I pushed myself like that.
That was the wish embedded in my bracelet.
That was the pathetic conviction I harbored.
And so today, I headed to the library again.
"Take this today. It's the gray magic tome I've compiled from my research on gray over the years. I've selected only the spells passed down from ancient gray ones. Read it if you need to."
"Thank you, Idrin."
The librarian, her dark circles thick and heavy, always handed me what I needed.
"If you're thankful, strip now."
"...I'm not thankful anymore, Idrin."
"Yes. Asha, no need to thank me—just take off your top and sit here. You should be used to it by now, but why the hesitation every time?"
"..."
To be precise, it was the routine physical exam.
But lately, baring my body to someone filled me with needless shame.
"Asha, come here already. We have a lot to do today."
"...Fine, stop nagging."
Still, she wasn't wrong, so I slipped off my top and sat facing her in my undergarments, watching her gaze roam and indulge.
"Hm."
"..."
"...Tsk."
That look in her eyes. That perverted stare, the sound of her swallowing.
Even though she was clearly checking my condition and jotting notes...
"Mm, definitely bigger now."
"That's incredibly rude right now."
Her satisfied nod and the slight curve in her eyes struck me as utterly impolite.
Once the exam ended, I dressed and faced her again.
"...Pervert."
"I tell you every time—it's just a physical exam."
That was definitely a lie.
Because now I could read, and the notes she scribbled included some embarrassing details.
"Sorry, but I can read now. So erase the weird entries like bust size and belly softness."
"Just records. Tracking growth is useful in many ways, anyway."
Now I had common sense too, and I knew those weren't objective necessities.
Whether it was personal greed or preparation for some future scenario, I didn't know.
"Fine, then I'll record you just as bluntly—give me paper and pen, and strip."
"Hm, I can do that anytime."
"..."
"This good, Asha?"
Idrin, the madwoman, was no one to best at tit-for-tat revenge—I realized that anew.
It just brought a flood of shame for my past self, who had stripped bare before Ain without a second thought.
And.
In truth, our talks didn't end on such playful notes.
"Asha."
"...Yes."
Even beyond magical pursuits, I had reasons to meet Idrin.
"Too many scars. You've started self-harming to the limit of what magic healing can fix."
"..."
Now I'd truly reached my limit—nights alone pouring out emotions until I inevitably wailed in agony had become routine.
"Asha, it's definitely the limit. I have no magical talent, but I can tell your body and magic have hit their thresholds."
"...I can still hold on."
"You can hold on, sure. But the odds of just dropping dead like that are sky-high. Still, if you're stubborn, you'll manage."
"..."
Even the emotional control spell I'd cast on myself had cracked, springs leaking through.
"The medicine isn't working anymore?"
"...It still is, a little."
"I can't make anything stronger. Beyond this, it'd be poison."
All the methods we'd brainstormed together were now teetering on the cliff's edge.
To somehow overcome this, I had to visit the library weekly.
The gray's emotional pull had grown too dense and sticky to endure alone—I desperately needed others' help.
"Ain seems to be working on a gray suppressant over there too, so hang in a bit longer. We'll figure something out."
"Yes, I can endure. Don't worry, Idrin."
Before I knew it, her hand had left the pen and paper to gently stroke my hair.
She always looked at me with manic eyes, but sometimes revealed deep concern—like now.
So I forced my lips into a smile, nodding.
A cliff, a precipice.
The dull gray flower clinging to its crumbling edge.
Eroded and weathered over three years, now on the verge of tumbling down below.
About to tumble.
Teetering like that, it could only desperately await a warm breeze.