I'm Sorry... And... I Love You
Yuan had not looked at me since that day.
He did not speak to me. He did not smile at me.
To be precise… it was as if he could not bear to look at me at all.
Whenever I drew near, his shoulders would stiffen by the smallest fraction, and that tiny tremor tore my heart to shreds.
That he would not speak. That he would not even spare me a glance.
It was only natural.
The splint fixed to his right ankle. The cloth wound tightly around his left wrist.
I was the one who had broken him.
Each morning I rose far earlier than Yuan.
In truth, more often than not I never slept at all, staring wide-eyed through the night.
Whether he was still breathing. Whether he had been in pain while I watched over him in the dark.
If I did not check, I could not endure it.
Only after seeing the dawn without ever taking my eyes off him would I finally rise from the bed, prepare breakfast, and leave to hunt.
I went hunting to provide food, yes—
but also to stop thinking.
Yuan's emptied eyes kept rising before me.
The wounds I had made. The heart I had shattered. The trust I had trampled underfoot.
Even in the middle of a hunt there were moments when my breath would suddenly seize and I would crumple against a tree, curling in on myself.
Moments when my lungs, my heart, my fear swelled beyond anything I could bear.
Animal blood on my hands, swimming the river for fish, packing foraged fruit and vegetables into a bundle—none of it brought any sense of accomplishment.
I would have done anything to keep Yuan alive.
And yet his life was draining of color, day by day.
I wanted to help him…
but I was the one who had done this to him.
I had told myself it would be enough if I simply did not go into heat.
But of course. I was a beast.
"Hahk…♡ Hahk…♡ Hhhk…♡ Oohhk…♡"
Squelch—♡ Squish—♡ Squish—♡
On the way to the hunt, during the hunt, on the way back after the hunt was done—
the mere thought of Yuan left the space between my legs soaked and dripping, and so I had to… keep… keep touching myself.
Having torn out my own nails made it easier; I could push my fingers inside without difficulty.
To vent the hunger… until my clit was swollen thick with slick… until my fingers were pruned and wrinkled with it… I masturbated without pause.
"Nngh…♡ Unngh…♡ Hhhk…♡"
Lost to heat, drool trailing from my lower lip, I knew that if I did not release it—if I did not—I might fall on Yuan at any moment. So I spent nearly half of every hunting trip wringing myself out.
And when I returned before sunset with the hunt finished…
Yuan was always lying with his back to me.
Cold.
So cold it felt as though my heart itself were freezing over.
The Yuan who used to greet me with such warmth… I had killed him.
The breakfast I prepared was always left untouched.
The smell of cold food hung thick in the room, and it seemed Yuan's hand had never once reached for the plate.
Yuan, lying with his back turned.
That small back felt like a final shield raised to keep me away.
I knelt and stared at it, unable to say a word.
I knew that nothing I said would earn forgiveness. I was terrified that any word falling from my lips would only wound him further.
So I simply… held my breath and watched.
When evening came, I offered him food.
After a pause, Yuan would slowly reach out and chew one or two bites with deliberate care.
Too little to call it eating.
Forcing it down to stay alive was the truer description.
After those few mouthfuls, the emptiness in his eyes only deepened.
As if living itself were nothing more than the act of moving.
Yes.
In Yuan… I saw my former self reflected.
A life lived only because dying was not an option.
He looked so terribly like me, and that truth gouged at my heart.
Watching him, I crumbled inside hundreds of times, thousands of times.
I understood anew just how cruel what I had done truly was.
Yuan had been the one who smiled at my side. The warm person who told me I was beautiful—and I had crushed him, defiled him.
That he now lay there doing nothing but breathe was entirely my responsibility.
At night…
once Yuan had fallen asleep, I approached with infinite care.
Terrified that he might sense me and go rigid, I killed even the sound of my own breathing, inch by inch, little by little.
Then I lay down behind him and spread my wing over him—so lightly, so carefully that only the faintest warmth would reach him.
Even that I reduced to the barest contact at the wingtip, afraid it might make him uncomfortable.
So that his body would not grow cold.
So that he would not shiver through the night.
This much… I could never give up.
I could not let the wounds I had given him take his life as well.
It was one of the meager penances I was still able to offer.
A week passed that way.
Yuan still moved like someone from whose eyes all hope had vanished.
He would rise slowly from the bed… sit like a dead man… then lie back down again.
Watching him, I collapsed endlessly inside myself.
I, who had made him this way…
was a monster no longer worthy of standing at his side.
Today, too, I finished the hunt late and returned to the cave.
The breakfast left on the table was… as always, untouched.
Soup set firm as jelly. Vegetables that had lost even their lukewarmth. Fruit no hand had reached for.
All of it seemed to display the silent distance between us, and even drawing breath hurt.
Yuan still lay with his back to me.
Nothing but a small back visible on the bed.
That back had become an unchanging landscape for days on end.
I quietly steadied my breathing and prepared dinner.
The tips of my fingers trembled as I worked the knife.
If only he would eat even a single bite…
Praying for nothing more than that, I roasted the meat from the hunt.
I carefully held out the finished meal to Yuan.
"…"
There was no answer.
Only the faintest shift of his back.
And then—
Yuan spoke, so softly,
yet with perfect clarity.
"…Dragon."
The moment I heard that voice, my heart stopped.
I nearly dropped the plate; I froze solid.
Yuan… had spoken to me.
Without looking at me, without turning to face me—but he had spoken to me, without question.
"Thank you."
Yuan said it once more.
I could not manage a single word.
My mouth had locked; no sound would come.
Yuan sat up, settled into a crouch facing me, and smiled—faintly.
"Every night. Covering me with your wing so I wouldn't be cold."
He paused a moment, then went on.
"These past few days… I think I've been far too cold toward you. I'm sorry. For not eating the breakfasts you worked so hard to prepare… I'm sorry. I just… needed time to sort through my thoughts."
Why… why are you apologizing to me.
I'm the one who did wrong. Why.
"I… don't hate you. So… I like you, Dragon. And… dragonkind is different from humans, right? Desire is… harder to control. So… it's all right. I understand."
Tears spilled over and blurred my vision.
I thought his heart had left me. But that wasn't… true?
"When my ankle broke… it did hurt a great deal, honestly."
A throb.
When he said that, my heart ached.
"But… it's all right. It hurt terribly, truly—but now… I can forgive you. Everyone makes mistakes, after all."
What… what does that even…
He's… forgiving me…?
Me, who did… that to him…?
Yuan reached out and gently took my hand, examining the wounds where the nails had been torn away.
"Why did you pull out your nails? They were beautiful. Didn't it hurt?"
My heart surged.
More tears fell.
"I wish you would stop blaming yourself, Dragon. And last of all… I want to hear your voice, Dragon."
"…?!"
My body nearly leapt; I barely forced it still.
"Being in a silent cave all this time… it's made me terribly melancholy. If I could hear your voice… I think it would give me strength."
That was what Yuan said next.
My breath caught hard in my throat.
My chest hurt as though it were tearing open from the inside.
Why…
Why would you say something like that…
I hurt you.
You have every right to hate me enough to want me dead…
Why. Why.
To someone like me—
"And your voice is… truly beautiful, you know."
In that instant, the strength drained from my body.
It felt as though the cave were slowly reclaiming its light.
As though the black water of guilt that had filled the past several days were thinning, just a little.
Yuan…
had said he wanted to hear my voice.
It meant he still… expected something of me.
A tiny light.
So faint it seemed it might shatter at a touch—but it was there. Unmistakably there.
My voice only came when my emotions ran high.
In the extremes of heat, or of rage…
But ordinarily, sealed shut by the trauma of the past, I never made a sound…
and Yuan… wanted to hear my voice.
My breath trembled.
My throat constricted; sound would barely form.
But…
he had said he wanted to hear it.
After a long silence,
breaking through the trauma,
opening my throat,
I parted my lips with the utmost care.
"…Yuan."
My voice…
was so frail it seemed it might crumble apart,
and even I was startled by it.
In that moment Yuan's shoulders trembled, ever so slightly.
Whether from surprise…
or joy…
or simply a reflex, I could not tell—
but even that alone
sent heat surging up through my breath.
I clenched my trembling hands and spoke carefully—not too heavily, not too close,
but carrying every clear feeling I held.
"I'm sorry… and… I love you."
I drew him gently into my arms and whispered.
"I love… hhhk… I love you. And I'm sorry… I'm sorry enough to die… I'm sorry… I… I'm sorry… hahhk… hhk… hhhk…"
I should have apologized like this from the start.
Regret came flooding in, but—
"I'm sorry… hhhk… I'm… sorry…"
Holding him tight,
I whispered it into his ear for a long, long time.
That day, my trauma melted a little.
As I cried myself toward exhausted sleep, Yuan whispered to me.
"Dragon. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone does wrong. So you don't have to blame yourself. I… needed a little time to settle my wounded heart, and I think I failed to look after you because of it. I still love you. So… please don't be sad."
Listening to his whisper, I fell asleep—
and when I woke the next day…
"Nngh… nnnh…"
Yuan's soft moans drifted in from outside the cave.