Change (1)
At first, it was an accident.
Truly—it was pure chance.
Rhea, Ceria, Claudia.
Even without Riel ever telling them exactly where he went or what he did, the three girls knew he was involved in something dangerous. The reason they all grew sad whenever they looked at the scar left on his forehead was simple: they knew he was suffering for their sake.
Rhea would sometimes show him a small cut she had "accidentally" gotten while cooking. Ceria would approach him in tears, saying she was sad because Sister Flora had come to mind during prayer. Claudia would mess up her tail—
But none of that was ever about Riel. It was about destroying themselves. Nothing more than a bid for pity or sympathy.
Because they loved Riel so much. Because they were terrified that one of the other childhood friends might claim him for herself.
Promise.
Because the thought of breaking that promise—to stay together forever, to never let anyone else come between them—terrified them beyond measure. And if the promise had to be broken, if someone had to stand at Riel's side, each of them wished that someone would be herself.
So at first, whenever they were with Riel, they all spoke of their affection. They told him how glad they were that he was there, how warm it felt, how happy they were.
They remembered how, before he left for somewhere, he had compared himself to Sister Flora. They remembered how he had prayed for them, and so they repaid that kindness with even gentler words.
Rhea, having confirmed their feelings for each other, would tell him she loved him over and over whenever they were alone. Ceria, knowing that Sister Flora's prayers had always lasted more than two hours, would quietly whisper between prayers that she liked Riel. Claudia, too, while he brushed her tail, never hid her tender feelings the way she always had—showing them openly to him.
"...Thank you, Rhea. Having you by my side always gives me strength."
Riel answered Rhea with a smile.
"...Sister Flora would be so proud. Ceria, seeing you try this hard... I'm happy too."
He stroked Ceria's hair as she closed her eyes and focused on her prayers.
"...Your tail looks even prettier than before. Claudia—almost as pretty as your face!"
To Claudia, who carried a complex about being of the Wolf Tribe, he always offered praise about her appearance. But even when he gave each of them affectionate words and shared his warm body heat, none of them felt they were receiving the same amount of love in the same amount of time. From the start, each of them wanted to be more special than the others.
Ceria, who prayed for two hours. Rhea, who could confidently say they were dating. And Claudia, who only got about ten minutes of having her tail brushed.
"...I hate this..."
Claudia felt the hurt more keenly than the other two. It was because she was of the Wolf Tribe, who valued love above all else—and because she carried more complexes than either of them.
The moments she spent with Riel made her so happy she could soar, but the second his attention turned to Rhea or Ceria, jealousy bloomed. She had torn their clothes and ruined the relationship between the two of them, yet she was so steeped in depression that she couldn't even feel guilt over it.
So she did it in secret. Afraid that if Riel overheard, it would hurt him, she hid tightly between the blankets of her bed. Very secretly. Very, very secretly. If there was a beginning, it was the soft whispers she made.
"...Hic... Riel must hate me..."
Claudia often cried thinking of Riel, muttering all sorts of things to herself out of hurt—when he was spending time with the other two, when there was no chance he would come to her room.
Was it because she was of the Wolf Tribe? Because even among the Wolf Tribe she was a discarded child? Because she was so worthless that Riel only spent a short time with her? He was really dating Rhea, and Ceria was pretty like Sister Flora... so of course he always stayed longer with those two, she thought.
"...I hate it. I hate it..."
Sometimes it was baseless resentment.
"...Riel, you're mean. A tail is supposed to be brushed by the person you love... I told you that..."
Sometimes it was resentment with its own twisted logic.
"...Claudia was always waiting here just for Riel..."
And sometimes, resenting Riel was so much harder than she imagined that she simply despaired over her own pitiful situation. The beginning was, quite literally, an accident.
"...Claudia?"
Claudia, alone in her room, sniffling under the covers as she poured out her hurt. Riel, who had always sensed her unhappiness, had returned early from the guild so he could spend even a little more time with her. It began when Riel—who had come home early out of pure kindness—overheard her voice.
"...Hold on. Look at me for a second."
The moment he heard Claudia's resentment in the bedroom, Riel went to the bed and sat down. He pulled back the blanket and looked at her burying her face in the worn sheets, sniffling—and his expression twisted.
Because his chest ached so terribly. Because under the pretense of earning money and making everyone happy, under the excuse of revenge, he felt he had failed to understand the heart of his most fragile childhood friend. Because he wondered if, unlike Sister Flora, he had failed to properly care for the children.
"...Claudia, aren't you going to let me brush your tail?"
Even without looking, she could tell his voice was steeped in sorrow. The guilt and pity in that voice only made Claudia's grief swell larger. She should have apologized—but like a fool, her emotions ran ahead of her, and the swelling sorrow forced out words edged with thorns.
She had once been the one who received favoritism—and now she felt not favored, but discriminated against. She knew that wasn't true, and yet she acted like a fool anyway.
"...No. Ri-Riel... you... you hate me now..."
The words that Riel hated her. Claudia's childish words drove into Riel's chest like a dagger.
Really, Claudia? You think I hate you...? You know how hard I work. You know how I live.
Hearing the person he loved—his family, his childhood friend, someone he trusted—deny all his efforts, Riel froze as if something inside him had broken. And yet he loved and cherished her so much that he couldn't even feel hurt. He couldn't hate her.
"...Don't say that. Why would I ever hate you, Claudia?"
In a gentle voice, with a warm hand that forced itself to move, he stroked Claudia's hair.
"...You only talk with Rhea, and you pray with Ceria for so long. Me... with me you just brush my tail and that's it. Because I'm a discarded Wolf Tribe kid, that's why... hic, that's why only with me... I hate it... Riel, I hate it..."
And still, the only answer that came back was sobbing thick with grief. Claudia's sobs piled more guilt onto Riel's heart. The self-reproach of a fool who, in his drive to earn money and take revenge, had failed to understand the most fragile heart of all.
The guilt of knowing how they all felt about him, yet cutting back on the things he always did simply because he was tired. The guilt that maybe, unlike Sister Flora, he wasn't taking proper care of the children. The fear that even though it wasn't his fault, maybe he simply wasn't enough.
"...No, Claudia. Absolutely not. I'm sorry. I... I'm sorry. Okay? Why would I ever treat you differently? You know. You know how much I love you all. How much I do for you..."
Riel pulled Claudia into his arms and patted her back. Afraid she might notice his own sadness, he—still just a child himself—smiled as he comforted her.
"...You said you'd protect me forever...!"
"...Yeah. I will. I'll protect you forever. Don't cry... You'll wrinkle that pretty face of yours..."
"...Riel, I hate you... I hate you... You don't even know how I feel..."
He showed her the old comb and sat beside her the way he had when Sister Flora was still alive, brushing her tail. He pulled the blanket over her, patted her back, and told the Wolf Tribe girl old stories. Even when he heard her words laced with resentment, Riel never once said anything unkind—he accepted everything. Instead of simply answering that he liked her and didn't hate her, he gave her the words she wanted most.
"...Tomorrow I'll stay with you longer, Claudia. You've been really hurt, haven't you?"
To Riel, the three girls were the reason he lived.
"So please... don't say that I hate you. That I don't like you. Claudia."
In that pleading voice, Claudia confirmed Riel's sincerity once more. Far from discriminating, he loved and cherished all three of them so deeply. She felt guilt. Even when he tried to hide it, Riel's expression showed through. Claudia knew all too well that her words were hurting him. And yet, as a result, Claudia got what she so desperately wanted the next day. She received the favoritism of being treated as more special than Ceria and Rhea.
A promise to devote an entire day just to soothing her. Above all else, exclusive affection and comfort that Rhea and Ceria would never receive. She should have hated it. She had done something wrong—and yet somehow, she didn't hate it at all.
"...As long as Riel doesn't make me sad... C-Claudia won't do it either."
She had hurt Riel's heart—and somehow that had become the path to staying together. Claudia felt a strange guilt and sorrow, and yet like a fool she was satisfied simply that Riel stayed by her side. Not going to find Ceria or Rhea, just being with her in the bedroom—it seemed to bring her deep comfort.
...I won't do it again.
Still, she didn't want Riel to hurt. She resolved. She swore she would never do this again—but that resolution scattered like thin smoke the moment the next morning arrived.
The sight of him apologizing to Rhea and Ceria, trying to keep his promise. Ceria sniffling again that favoritism would break their promise, Rhea asking why he wanted to be with her instead of herself—
"...I'm sorry. Just understand this once."
And yet Riel still did things for her, held her hand and played with her. Stayed with her. It was simply too sweet.
Everyone knew something was strange. Ceria and Rhea both. Over the past few days, the times Riel turned toward Claudia had increased sharply.
"...Rhea, I want to talk for a moment."
"...About Riel, right?"
Riel was already working so hard for their sake. The time he spent at the church had already dwindled. So why... why was he spending so much time only with Claudia...? As Rhea fretted over this, Ceria suddenly spoke up.
"...I wasn't the one who tore the clothes."
"You came all the way here just to say that?"
"...No. You didn't tear them either, right?"
Ceria looked at Rhea and spoke again.
"...I really didn't tear them. If I'm lying, I never want to see Riel again for the rest of my life."
"...Same here!"
"I think so too. Rhea, you hit Claudia sometimes, but you never hated her enough to tear her clothes."
"What are you trying to say, Ceria..."
"...Claudia's been acting strange. She was already up before us. If you think about it, Riel might even hate us for it... so how could we have been the ones to tear the clothes?"
Then she took a short breath and spoke with full conviction.
"...Claudia pulled some kind of trick. If not... the idea that Riel would actually favor someone—th-that doesn't make any sense..."
The two girls continued talking with serious expressions. The conclusion was the same. The kindness they had seen from Riel for years suddenly focusing on just one person was strange. So, somewhat impulsively, they headed to where Claudia was staying to confront her—
"...Hic— you hate me, don't you. Because Riel hates me... you're going to Rhea and Ceria instead..."
They saw Riel—who always smiled as he cared for everyone—comforting Claudia with a sad expression. They saw that Riel's guilt was directed at Claudia.
They saw that touching his guilt and sense of responsibility was the greatest force that moved Riel.
They knew they shouldn't. And yet, looking at the faint satisfaction on Claudia's sniffling face, they could only feel envy. Even if it was the wrong way—the fact that she had secured time alone with Riel was simply...
Simply too enviable.