The Sad Love Story of a Certain Evil Woman -3-: Vision Darkens Once Again
Vision darkened once more.
"So, like I said, I should have cut him loose ages ago. Should've hired someone with a proper education who actually gets shit done."
Through my hazy vision, I heard my own voice, dressed in a black gown, sounding faint. My voice, chattering away with a hint of excitement, was gleefully spinning a sharp, grating topic—like nails on a broken plate.
"That vermin quitting is actually a blessing. All he did was drain money anyway."
'...'
Olivia didn't need to puzzle over who this "vermin" was.
'Shut up.'
When she opened her eyes again, she was in a lavish banquet hall. Everyone was dressed splendidly, everyone laughing in this glittering venue. Unlike Ricardo's shabby room from moments ago, beneath the blindingly ornate chandelier on the stage below, there she stood in her black dress, smiling alongside noble ladies.
Holding a glass of shimmering purple wine, tilting it under the lights and swirling it around—her reflection looked thrilled, her face alight with excitement.
"So, so...! What happened then?"
"What do you mean, what? I told him to get lost—said even the air he breathed was too good for him."
"Puhaha! Crazy! Didn't he cry?"
"Cry about what? It was the truth."
The illusory me seemed delighted to have someone talking to her after so long. Outwardly, she avoided getting close to people, but deep down, she envied those with lots of friends. She was thrilled. Making up stories she hadn't even said, embellishing provocative topics to make them even spicier—that was what I'd done back at the academy. I wanted to seem strong, to gain the upper hand in relationships. I was just bad at making friends.
It was a crude excuse, but if not for Ricardo, she wouldn't have a single person she could call a friend. She didn't know how to make them. They'd like her if she threw money at them, be moved if she bullied their enemies for them, flock if she had power. So she thought she had to project that image, knew no other way to make friends. Ricardo had urged her to be warmer, to value true bonds, but she didn't want the hassle, so her circle had always been those drawn to her power. In reality, they'd all scattered when the family fell—but still, she liked it. It kept the loneliness at bay.
"Puhaha!" Laughter echoed.
The illusory me didn't know, but the current me could tell their laughter was laced with pretense. My own face, basking in that attention, seemed just as fake. In this banquet hall full of nothing but facades, Olivia stepped closer to her illusory self and spoke in a trembling voice.
"Ricardo's hurting."
Her voice kept shaking.
"Ricardo's... in a lot of pain."
To the self spewing malice at Ricardo, Olivia said in a quivering voice,
"So, don't say that..."
Images of Ricardo lying in bed kept flickering by, blurry. His fragile form, on the verge of collapse, haunted the edges of Olivia's vision.
"Ricardo's in so much pain...!"
The illusory me, unable to hear her ragged breaths, just kept laughing. Slowly, the waltz music began, and one by one, people in their masks of pretense found partners and vanished. As always, she was left alone, standing in solitude.
A deep sigh escaped.
"This is boring."
No one approached the her in her elegant gown. No matter how beautifully dressed, the one she wanted to notice her wouldn't even glance her way—her loneliness only grew.
Yuria and the radiant Mikhail were surrounded by crowds, but she stood alone like a flower on a cliff, sipping her wine in isolation.
"Annoying."
The illusory self bowed her head and muttered softly.
"What's wrong with my personality to make them act like that? If I'd just stayed quiet, I could've kept my position."
"What are you dissatisfied with?"
"What didn't I give him, that he had to quit?"
"Idiot."
The illusory me still looked angry. She resented Ricardo for cursing her on his way out, wanted to punish him if he dared return—but the longing waiting for him was unmistakable.
Olivia spoke to that self in a melancholic voice, staring with trembling eyes at the fool wasting time like this.
"He's not coming back... He can't come back."
It was just a dream of someone she could never see again. The illusory me, that is.
After a while, from afar, a woman with familiar pink hair approached her lonely self, walking slowly. Dressed in a simple sky-blue gown, she glanced cautiously, placed a hand on her chest, and let out a deep sigh.
"You can do it. Just ask."
Muttering to herself, the illusory me scowled at the approaching woman.
"Um..."
"Haa. What? You're ruining my mood."
"Could we talk for a moment, Lady Olivia?"
The one who approached her isolated self was Yuria. Eyes wide like a frightened rabbit, fidgeting with her hands, she drew a deep breath but couldn't meet the cold gaze staring back. After all the bullying—and perhaps intensified without Ricardo—Yuria steadied her pounding heart and asked carefully,
"Where is Mr. Ricardo? You haven't been with him lately."
"What?"
"Maybe..."
Yuria swallowed hard, head bowed.
"Is Ricardo... very ill?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Well..."
"You and I aren't close enough to swap pleasantries. It's unpleasant having a filthy commoner talk to me."
Normally, Yuria would have backed off here, but this time she stood her ground, legs trembling in fear. The illusory me found her shaking legs amusing and smirked slyly.
"He quit."
"Pardon...?"
"He quit, I said."
Yuria's face filled with shock, twisting more than during their usual torments.
"What do you mean? Ricardo quit?"
"How should I know?"
"No... that..."
"Don't annoy me—get lost. I'm in a bad mood."
"We can't do that..."
"What?"
Yuria grabbed Olivia's hand as she tried to leave.
"Did Ricardo say anything to you, by chance?"
"No."
"Please, just think about it."
"Stop bothering me and scram."
"Olivia!"
She gripped tightly, eyes trembling.
"Ha? Olivia?"
"Get a grip and hear me out."
"You need to get a grip. Who do you think you are, calling me by name?"
"Please, just listen."
Yuria's hands shook. Her eyes, like those facing a monster, quivered as they looked at her.
"I'm a healer."
"So what? You want me to get a checkup?"
"No."
The illusory me glared disgustedly at Yuria's hand gripping hers, wrinkling her nose as if eager to shake it off. Even then, Yuria bowed her head and pleaded once more to think it over.
"I saw Ricardo in the capital recently."
"...Huh?"
"He looked so different I almost didn't recognize him, but it was definitely Ricardo."
Olivia's eyes trembled at the first update on him in ages. A subtle shift rippled across her face.
"He bought a ton of medicine from the pharmacy. Couldn't see details, but it looked like painkillers. Really strong ones."
"...You must've seen wrong."
"Maybe. But maybe not..."
Yuria gripped Olivia's wrist with trembling hands.
"He was so scary..."
"So scary I had to ask."
Yuria stared at Olivia with quivering eyes.
"Nothing's wrong, right?"
"..."
"Nothing's wrong, right?"
As the questions persisted, Olivia clamped her mouth shut, then spat coldly. A seed of doubt—"No way"—sprouted in her heart, but she comforted herself it couldn't be, speaking lowly.
"So what does that have to do with me?"
"Pardon?"
"Whether he lives or dies, what do I care?"
Yuria lowered her head and said coldly,
"Don't speak so carelessly."
"Ha...? What did you say?"
"If..."
It was a face Olivia had never seen.
"Something happens to Ricardo..."
Yuria's expression brimmed with killing intent.
"You'll regret it."
[The viewpoint has shifted.]
* After the banquet, on the way back.
In a dim corner of the street, a man in a black hood sat on a wooden chair with wheels. He watched Olivia from hiding. Walking with the noble ladies, Olivia glanced at him and shuddered. At that inexplicable familiarity, she turned to approach—but a lady beside her frowned and spoke.
"Did you see that man's hand? Gross."
"Why?"
"Look at that arm."
Olivia's eyes caught the hideous hand resting on the armrest. Rotting flesh, covered in gruesome scars. She frowned at the man.
"Pathetic."
Looking again, the man covered his face with his hand, shoulders trembling faintly.
[<Side Story 3> The final chapter of 'The Sad Love Story of a Certain Evil Woman'. "I am always on your side, Miss." begins.]