Don't Get Hurt, Promise.
Don't get hurt. Promise. 'Show me.' Olivia muttered into the darkened space. 'Show me...' What happened after that. What she herself had done. In that place where the long viewing had finally ended with Ricardo's faint smile fading away—what had become of the self that remained. Having failed to see the story's end, Olivia cried out. She grabbed the blue window still looming before her and screamed for it to show her the future ahead, to show her no matter what that she was working to save Ricardo, anything at all.
'Show me...!'
'You could at least show me making some effort. You could at least tell me what I did...'
"Why do you only show Ricardo suffering...!"
Olivia felt wronged. The blue window always showed only Ricardo sacrificing himself, never her reflecting on her actions, only futures where he endured pain, leaving her heart heavy. If it had at least shown her regretting it, her heart wouldn't ache like this. It felt so ugly and foolish, like she was the idiot who only realized the meaning of parting after Ricardo died.
Olivia knew these thoughts were selfish, but still she begged the blue window. 'Please, just once... show me...' Just once, show her reflecting, anything—Olivia knelt in the dark space and wept. 'Please...'
Ricardo's faint smile lingered in her mind, refusing to fade. She was scared—terrified—that if she opened her eyes, he'd be gone. So she screamed at the blue window to tell her the story's end. Even if it was just her own suffering, show her that. But...
[Viewing Terminated.]
5 a.m., in the young lady's room.
I woke earlier than usual and cautiously stopped before the door to the young lady's room, where she was still sound asleep. The reason for my visit was simple. She probably fell asleep with the window open again. The young lady, who always slept with the window open despite my words falling on deaf ears, was surely doing it now. I couldn't beat her excuse every time I warned her about catching a cold: "If I don't open the window, I'll suffocate to death." It sounded so scientific that even I had let it slide with a "Huh, you're right?"
I quietly tiptoed and opened her door.
"Knock knock, you awake?"
-...
"No one's here, then. I'll enter without permission."
Inside, the young lady slept soundly. Exhausted from nursing me all night, she lay like a corpse in a coffin, hands neatly folded on her stomach, breathing evenly.
'Sleep well.' Her sleeping face was prettier than any angel in heaven. Starting the day with such eye candy put me in a good mood. As I reached to close the open window...
Her trembling voice brushed my ear softly.
"Show me...!"
-I flinched.
Her eyes were closed. Sleep-talking, it seemed, as she kept pleading to be shown something. My mind jumped to something lewd—what could it be?—but I shook my head and finished closing the window.
"Show me..."
"No idea what it is, but no."
"Please... show me."
The sleeping young lady looked terribly anxious.
"Ughhh..."
Furrowing her brow, on the verge of tears, she muttered in her sleep, sweat beading on her forehead. Was she having a nightmare? 'What's wrong?'
Worried she might have caught my cold, I gently touched her forehead—it was perfectly cool.
'No fever.'
It was now 5:30 a.m. After getting sick once, my body felt alive again. The splitting headache was gone, my energy restored. Back to butler duties, yet the young lady was trapped in a nightmare.
'Can't do anything about dreams.' Being human meant I couldn't give her the dream care only an incubus could. To be a perfect butler, I'd need to be reborn. 'Crazy bastard.' I chuckled at my pointless musing. Now I'm a real butler, huh?
About ten minutes of dumb thoughts later, tears welled in her eyes.
"I'm sorry..."
Sorry for what? Was it because she wasn't a succubus? Her apology, from someone already oozing more allure than one, didn't comfort me at all. I stretched her chubby cheeks, lost in thought. The soft give under my fingers sparked a urge to bite, but as a true butler, I resisted—waking her for such an impulse wasn't right. Besides, waking her would mean no more cheek time.
I pulled her cheeks sideways with a pleased smile.
"What're you sorry for? If it's for sleeping without covers, yeah, you're guilty."
I tucked the blanket up to her shoulders and stroked her hair.
"Nothing else to apologize for."
Nothing beats watching a sleeping young lady for fun. With her mouth shut, she looked angelic. White hair, pale skin. And those outrageously swollen breasts. Uh... maybe not that angelic? Anyway, mouth closed, she was like a tsundere angel with a foul temper—spending time like this wasn't bad.
"So, what should I make for breakfast?"
I didn't want to see her cry. Just... no reason, really.
Snap.
After crying for so long, the young lady stared blankly at the ceiling with hollow eyes. Lost in tangled emotions, she let out a deep sigh like the earth itself was caving in.
'Hmm...'
No usual air raid siren blared. The daily patriot fretting over the empire's safety seemed to deem today secure—no boisterous morning greeting. Instead, she worried for someone else.
"Ricardo..."
What the— 'This kind of flirting makes a butler's heart race.' No one played with hearts quite like this top-tier villainess.
"Ricardooo..."
She cracked open her teary eyes, searching for me. Not noticing I was right there, she called my name in a choked voice.
"Where are you...?"
A nightmare, clearly. Not ghosts, but one involving me, dreamed through the long night. Did she dream I abandoned her? Or that I died? Her face brimmed with sorrow.
I knew it was wrong to think so, but my heart pounded—her first words upon waking from the nightmare were my name.
"I'm sorry..."
Her slender shoulders trembled.
"I'm sorry, so come back quick... okay?"
I placed my hand on her head. As my fingers touched her fluffy hair, her shaking shoulders began to still.
Tears like chick peas rolled down her cheeks, soaking the pillow.
"Huh...?"
Her eyes quivered. Startled by my unexpected presence, she frantically searched with trembling pupils. Right. Left. Then her gaze met mine, sitting by her head.
Her eyes shook like she'd seen a ghost, slowly registering my face. Bit by bit. Curtains half-hid me, but she stared unblinking, as if afraid to forget.
I gave her a gentle smile and touched her forehead.
"Bad dream?"
"..."
"What nightmare has you crying like this? I was worried you'd dehydrate, young lady."
Biting her lip, she clenched and unclenched her tiny fists, like she had words to say.
"Hey... Ricardo."
"Yes."
"I..."
"Yes, you, young lady."
"I missed you so much."
I covered her eyes with my hand, avoiding her gaze. My face burned. A white-haired beauty suddenly pouring affection wasn't something I was used to.
"Young lady, how many times have I said it? This flirting is bad for the butler..."
She cut me off with a trembling voice.
"I thought when I opened my eyes, you'd be gone..."
Like a child waking and whining for mom, she spoke to me in a plaintive tone.
"I thought you'd abandon me."
"Why would I abandon you? I still need my back pay, and hanging out with you is fun."
"Still..."
She pouted sulkily.
"I have nothing to give you."
I naturally pinched her cheek. Soaked with tears, it was damp.
"You can give later. No picky eating, small snacks, less swearing—that's plenty for me."
Her glossy cheek felt worse than when dry. So...
"Don't cry."
I wished she wouldn't.
"Won't give extra chocolate if you do."
Her eyes welled up more. Still tears left in that tiny body? Like a water tank. I wiped them with my sleeve, smiling.
"Stop crying. You'll go blind."
"But... but... Ricardo."
"It's fine. I'm right here."
She sniffled loudly and looked at me.
"Don't get hurt."
"Yes."
"Be healthy every day."
"Who could be healthier than me... Oh. Right, I was sick yesterday, so maybe a bit fragile."
"No picky eating."
"That's your job, young lady."
"Just listen...!"
She grumbled angrily. They say crying then laughing sprouts horns on sensitive spots— I held back the silly joke. Time to listen now.
"I'll be quiet."
Still sniffling, she muttered softly.
"And if you get sick again without telling me... I'll really get mad."
"Yes, I promise."
"It's a promise."
She held out her teary, snotty hand—gross, yeah, 'ew...'—but comforting her nightmare was a win. I stamped her finger and nodded.
"Yes."
As the warm mood flowed, she sat up and glared.
"Ricardo."
"Yes."
In a cold voice, she said,
"Strip."
"?"
"Gonna check you're not sick."
"That's sexual harassment. Sue you."
"Eek...! Strip!"
I shyly hugged myself, grinning playfully.
"No."