Farewell (3)

They had fallen into a deep sleep.

The reason was nothing special.

Facing Riel had simply been too hard. Hard as it was, they had said things that should never have been spoken.

Riel.

The Riel who never cried, who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had always looked after them no matter what. They had heard him weeping for hours, leaning against Sister Flora’s grave.

As always, Riel must have plunged his face into the flowing river. He returned to the church with his face flushed red from the cold. The skin around his eyes was still swollen, his hands trembled, and his legs seemed to have given out—his gait was strange and unsteady.

Rather than an apology, just hold me.

Rather than saying you hate me, tell me you love me.

With an expression that looked ready to break into tears, Riel had said those things. Just like the old days, when they had lived on nothing but each other’s warmth, free of worry.

But how could they?

They were the ones who had made Riel cry like that. They were the ones who had driven him to blame himself, to believe that Sister Flora should have lived in his place.

Claudia and Ceria could not bring themselves to hold him. They could not force out the words I love you.

It was something they should never have done, yet they avoided him and fled. Even though they used to share warm conversations after combing her tail, Claudia slipped straight out and hid beneath the blankets. Ceria cut short the prayers she had been offering for over two hours, finishing them in a mere ten minutes, claimed she was sleepy, and went to Sister Flora’s room to lie down beside Claudia.

It was not that they had no intention of apologizing. They fully meant to say they were sorry, to beg for forgiveness. It simply was not the right moment.

After all, Riel had come back.

They only planned to apologize and say they loved him again once he no longer looked so hurt, once a little time had passed and the wounds had faded, once the crushing guilt of having spoken such cruel words had lessened even a little.

“…Is everyone asleep?”

When the lights were out and they lay on blankets spread across the floor where a biting chill crept up, when they had all fallen asleep as they used to yet felt no warmth at all in that shared bed—

“…It’s not your fault.”

When Riel, sounding regretful and sad, poured out his feelings to the two who seemed to be sleeping—

“I’m the one who’s worthless.”

“…I love you. Really. I mean it.”

—Ceria and Claudia kept their eyes closed and pretended not to hear. They slept like that. They ran away.

Into dreams. Dreams that could never come true without Riel. So it was simply sleep. Nightmares. They fled into a long stretch of regret.

Tears slipped from the corners of their eyes; they breathed shallowly on purpose to hold back the ragged gasps. At some point Riel had quietly turned his back and fallen asleep, and they desperately sought sleep for fear he might wake. Even knowing he had risen and gone outside, they shuddered with guilt and simply kept their eyes shut.

They just ran away.

The reason they could not follow him was guilt. The reason they only managed to sleep after he had left was also guilt. Soaked in that guilt, Ceria and Claudia finally drifted off.

Rather than thinking deeply about Riel, they told themselves over and over that he had simply woken early in the morning the way he always did—and fled again and again.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

How many hours had passed? Ceria and Claudia dreamed nightmares. Nightmares of Riel weeping endlessly.

And when they woke from those nightmares, when they sat up like fools and looked at each other and realized Riel was not beside them—

Ssshk. Ssshk. Sssk.

—they realized a hair-raising sound was coming from the kitchen. No, the confessional. No—from somewhere inside the church.

They lifted their heads. Rhea was gone. She seemed to be awake.

It sounded as if she were peeling off bandages, a thin, scraping noise. Since Riel was not in the bedroom, he must be with her. Rhea was hurt, so he was surely changing her bandages. Without realizing it, Ceria tried to quiet her own unease by tightly gripping Claudia’s hand as they walked out.

And then—

Ssshk. Sssk. Ssshk.

—they saw Rhea, her eyes dead and empty, tearing at her own flesh and stabbing herself with something. It was the sharp-tipped hairpin Riel had once given her as a gift.

“Rh-Rhea—!”

Riel was nowhere. There was only Rhea harming herself and three bloodstained letters. It was not hard to tell that the blood on the letters was Rhea’s.

“…R-Riel will be back soon, s-so—p-please stop—!”

The moment Claudia called Rhea’s name without thinking and tried to soothe her by speaking Riel’s name—

“…Don’t come near me.”

—Rhea said coldly. She held up the letters, then threw them at their feet.

Thud.

On the bloodstained paper, names were written. Everyone’s names. The pressed, deliberate traces of Riel’s handwriting.

The first thing that caught the eye was the letter soaked in the most blood—the one with Rhea’s name.

“…W-what is this?”

“…I-it smells like R-Riel—”

“…Riel came back. He came back while I was sleeping. So where is he now? What—what did he do—why is the paper wet? Did Riel cry?”

Just as Rhea said, the letter paper had been crying for a long time. It was soaked, warped and rippling; some of the letters had bled. Traces of tears. Near them, the blood Rhea had shed clung stickily.

“…I-I’m a-asking you—s-sob—d-did he cry, did he cryyy—! Why—why can’t I see him—… He came back, he came baaaack—!”

“…Th-that can’t be—n-no—i-it has to be a joke. R-Riel wouldn’t leave again…”

“Hwaah—hic—th-then answer me. Wh-where did he go? Is Riel okay? H-he was hurt so badly. He was hurt enough to die—he should be here—talk about finding a sponsor, about this being better—those words—they’re all l-lies, right?”

They did not know, so they could not answer. Or rather, even if they had known, they could not have answered. Answering would have felt like admitting that Riel was gone.

But the letters said he was sorry for leaving so suddenly. After the sentences that forgave them even after they had wounded him so deeply—after the words of love—came the final greetings: that they would be able to live comfortably, that he had found people who would help them, so they should live happily and well.

Rhea, Ceria, and Claudia all vaguely sensed that Riel would not return. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠No—they were certain. Riel never spoke like this ordinarily. He might write letters after teaching them to write, but he never wrote words that hinted at farewell like this, not under any circumstances.

“…R-Riel—Riel… hic—Riel—wh-where are you—Riel—Rieeel—!”

Rhea asked nothing more. She simply stabbed her own body with the hairpin. Even though she did not believe Riel was there, she poured out words he would never hear.

“I’m going to die—if you don’t show up, I’ll die right here—I’ll be buried next to Sister—I’m going to die—Riel—I’m going to diiiie—!”

Ceria sank to the floor. Yesterday’s events flashed through her mind. Riel had wanted to talk more, had wanted to stay with them longer.

The words “I love you” had been a goodbye.

“U-ugh—uwaaagh—!”

Ceria vomited from the self-loathing that surged up inside her. She retched up everything she had eaten—the stew Riel had prepared—and chewed over how foolish she had been. She needed to look after Rhea, yet her stomach burned so badly she could not even go to her.

Her legs gave out; her eyes swam. She had hurt him so thoughtlessly, and then, using the excuse of guilt and apology, she had been awake when he left yet never tried to stop him—she had simply turned her back and slept.

Instinctively she searched for a cross. Even as she vomited and spasms wracked her from deep in her belly, Ceria clutched the cross with trembling hands and prayed.

Please turn back time.

Please—please—please—

“…N-no—h-he brushed Claudia’s t-tail… R-Riel came back after ten nights… h-he wouldn’t leave again—I-I still haven’t even a-apologized…”

Claudia tried to go to Rhea, tripped over her own feet, and fell. She cracked her head on the desk; blood trickled down. For a moment she wondered why it did not hurt, then understood.

She had already done something so cruel to Riel that she could hardly feel pain anymore. Even after hearing him say he wished he had died in Sister’s place, she had stayed silent. I’m hurting as much as Riel is hurting, she thought.

“Rhea, p-please stop…”

Claudia thought of Riel. She thought of Riel rushing out for Rhea’s sake. He had written in the letter that he would come back; if Rhea was hurt when he returned, if she was covered in scars, he would cry, he would ache, he would suffer—

Would it hurt him more than the things we said?

Even that fleeting thought made ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Claudia shake her head madly, forcing it away. She crawled across the floor and grabbed Rhea’s wrist.

Slash—

“L-let gooo—!”

Rhea screamed and swung her arm; a long red line opened on Claudia’s arm.

“It’s because of you—Riel c-cried—Riel almost died and came back—because of you… because of whatever you did, he left again. Get out, leave—this was our home with Sister long before discarded girls like you ever came here.”

Tears slipped from beside the still-purple bruise on Rhea’s eyelid.

“Get out—get out, get out—get ouuut—get out—! Please just get out of our hooouse—!”

Rhea screamed. Ceria, unable to endure the pain, lay curled on her side like a shrimp yet still clutched the cross with shaking hands. Claudia, despite her wound, stepped forward to stop Rhea.

Then.

Then they heard footsteps. All three girls’ attention snapped toward the sound.

Riel.

It had to be Riel.

He had only been playing a cruel joke, right? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠He had just gone somewhere for a little while because he hated them so much. Just like always…

He had come back, hadn’t he?

But hope shattered in an instant.

“…Damn it.”

The one who returned was not Riel. The person who appeared at the church was Cronian, who had come to look after the three children before they left for adoption according to Riel’s wishes—after Riel had set out following Baron Rueshatia.

“…What the hell is this mess—!”

The church clearly showed signs of a fight. Cronian looked around, took in the state of the family Riel loved, and could not stop himself from shouting.

“R-Riel—went off to die for your sakes! Why—when you’re supposed to be family… do you only ever do things that hurt him—!”

Because of that, the deep self-harm, the sobbing, the prayers all stopped at once. The words were incomprehensible. A stranger was saying something they could not simply let pass.

Claudia looked up at Cronian with dazed eyes. No matter how many times she turned it over, she could not understand. Riel had said he would come back. But die? He went off to die?

“…Wh-who are you to s-suddenly show up and s-say R-Riel went off to d-die—!”

Riel had come back alive, and even in the letter he had written that he would return, that they should live happily. To say he went to die—what a terrible lie.

Ceria shook her head in denial. It creaked like rusted iron grinding together.

“…Why would Riel die? Hmm? Hic—that can’t be… Wh-why would you suddenly appear and say something so frightening, that he’s dead? Wh-what connection do you even have with Riel…”

But Rhea alone could not speak a word. She simply sat there blankly, staring at Cronian. She remembered him as the man who had driven her out of the guild. Because of that, she realized with agonizing clarity that Cronian’s words were true.

Rhea crawled across the floor, dripping blood, and clung to Cronian’s legs. The tears welling in her eyes mixed with the blood from her self-harm and turned red.

“Please save him… Mister, please… I was wrong. I’ll die in his place… so please just save Riel…”

Drip. Drip.

They fell. Tears.

Unable to understand, Ceria asked.

“Wh-why would Riel go off to d-die…? Rh-Rhea—d-do you k-know?”

“Riel is s-so kind… y-you’re lying, right—wh-why are you doing this, Rh-Rhea…?”

Cronian answered heavily.

“…Riel killed a noble for your sakes. And instead of simply dying, he chose to sacrifice himself. That’s all there is to it.”

At those words, both Ceria and Claudia looked at Rhea. Everything flashed through their minds—Rhea’s injuries, the reason Riel had been unable to return.

They finally understood why Riel had looked fine even after coming back ten nights later. Even when he had badly injured his forehead, he always waited until he looked whole again before returning. Because he worried they would worry, that they would hurt, that they would suffer.

Only then did they realize. Cronian’s words could not be a lie. From beginning to end, they had given Riel nothing but wounds.

“…N-no—n-no—”

Her tail was a mess from dragging on the floor, but she did not care. Claudia also crawled forward and knelt before Cronian.

“I have to tell Riel I’m sorry… I h-have to apologize… I-I still haven’t even said I love him…”

Ceria was the same. As if offering it up, she held out Sister Flora’s keepsake—the cross.

“Th-this—I-I’ll give it to you—s-so please—b-bring Riel b-back—hic—p-please—”

Cronian looked at them and his face twisted. He quickly grasped what Riel meant to them. So he spoke even more firmly.

“Riel has already left. The only thing you can do is survive the way he wanted.”

Then he continued. Cronian took out documents and showed them. Papers stating that Rhea, Ceria, and Claudia would each be adopted into baron houses cooperating with the Rueshatia family.

“…If you truly loved Riel, live the way he told you to. Pray that he returns, that he survives—and wait for that day while you live. Fulfill your dreams, and chase happiness the way Riel hoped you would.”

His voice, softened until it was as wet and cold as the children’s own, continued.

“…By next month, you’ll be scattered. Please… keep Riel’s words.”

He declared the end of the family that had begun with Sister Flora. Of course, none of them could accept it. They shook their heads.

“…N-no—no—hic—n-no—”

“…I-it’s a lie… i-it has to be…”

It hurt so much that even tears would not come. It ached as if they had caught a fever; it throbbed as if someone were smashing their skulls with a hammer. Their chests hurt, their stomachs hurt, their strength drained away until they felt they could not even walk. In Ceria’s and Claudia’s hearts, the cruel words they themselves had spoken—

Why did you come back?

It would have been better if Riel had died instead of Sister Flora.

—had become a farewell. Riel’s final appearance. The Riel they had let go for the sake of something like guilt.

It’s not your fault.

I’m the one who’s worthless.

Sister should have been the one who lived.

I love you. Really. I mean it.

The regret that if they had only held on at the end he might not have left swirled together in a mess—

…I like you, Rhea.

I’ve liked you from the beginning.

I promised, didn’t I? That I’d protect you for the rest of my life.

—and in Rhea’s mind remained Riel’s warm smile from the childhood they had survived together.

…Trust me. We’ll meet again. I’ll be back soon.

The image of Riel promising he would return after killing Loren, the scene of him with a shoulder cut open and one arm useless from the severe wound, stabbed deep into her chest.

“…Riel.”

Rhea murmured. The Riel who had killed Loren because of her, and who was now going to die because of it.

“…Riel.”

To fill the hollow emptiness, Rhea turned her head, searching for even a trace of him. The thing that had always hung there was gone. On the old wallpaper only a square outline remained, empty.

The picture we all drew together.

The picture Riel had taken with him. The picture with everyone in it. The picture Sister Flora, Riel, she herself, Ceria, and Claudia had all drawn together. The only object that still held everyone’s traces.

“Ah—aah…”

Imagining Riel leaving alone to die with that picture, without even a send-off, she went limp and fainted.