Yuria Won't Like You -1-
In the darkness, Ruin hung his head, grinding his teeth as he replayed his confrontation with Hans.
The day Hans had broken out of the basement cell, their conversation had left Ruin's mind in turmoil.
"Hey. Just one question."
"..."
"Why'd you do it?"
"..."
"I just can't figure it out, no matter how hard I think."
"..."
Hans hadn't opened his mouth. He'd just clamped his lips shut and kept his head bowed, like a condemned criminal. Seeing his friend like that hadn't sat well with Ruin at all. The model student who'd practically lived in the library with thick tomes tucked under his arm—Ruin never imagined he'd end up this way.
"Why the black magic? That's what I'm asking!"
Ruin hadn't expected Hans to scheme something so sinister. The guy was quiet, always smiling, with a soft heart that couldn't even kill a bug. That's why Ruin couldn't believe it. A faint hope had made him cling to the possibility.
Ruin knew erasing the old man's magic seal and meeting Hans alone had been a mistake. Without the barrier, who knew what Hans might do? The old man had warned him to stay put for good reason—because Hans was beyond Ruin's control. Ruin knew his friend was a bad guy now. He knew Hans was a murderer.
But accepting the fall of a longtime companion wasn't easy. It had driven him to the stupid act of breaking the seal. They'd been together for over ten years, after all.
Ruin wanted to believe his doubts.
Why...
Their shared childhood whispered mercy into Ruin's ear.
Why'd you do it...!
The hope that his friend had some hidden story bubbled to the surface.
The old man had said it a million times: Why live without thinking? Ruin made incidents out of nothing by failing to control his temper. He could've gotten better results by holding back, but he kept making dumb choices and ruining everything. The lectures were obvious truths. Ruin knew them. He knew how bad he was at holding his anger. Fists before words, violence over reason—that made him a problem child. But what could he do? It was the best way he'd known, the only treatment he'd ever gotten.
Old habits died hard.
But this time, he'd tried to stay calm. Following the old man's advice to suppress his emotions, he'd approached Hans rationally. Because he wanted to believe. That there were extenuating circumstances. Unavoidable reasons for his choices. He wanted to hear it from Hans's own mouth. That's what friends were for.
"Ha... Ruin."
But his friend hadn't given him the words he craved. Instead, Hans had answered with a cold smile.
"You really don't know?"
The bowed head lifted slowly as Hans let out a deep sigh, cracking open his sealed lips. His voice was hoarse from exhaustion, laced with irritation and rage. He spoke through gritted teeth, barely containing his fury.
"Why'd I do it?"
"..."
"You're asking me why you did what you did to me?"
Hans's eyes burned with deep hatred. It was the first time. The innocent smiler showing such a frigid expression. The malice pouring from his bound form. Long-suppressed emotions amplified by the endless dark cell.
Clank!
The chains rattled as Hans shouted.
"Cut the self-righteous bullshit. What do you even know?"
"That's why..."
"You don't know shit."
"That's why I'm asking! Why'd you do it?!"
"Ha... for real."
Hans let out a dry, hollow laugh, not mockery but defeat, drawing in the damp prison air.
"You know what? Everywhere I go, it feels like your name follows me."
"What?"
"New magic breakthrough? I find an undiscovered formula? Your name's always there, haunting me. You know that feeling?"
"..."
"It's fucking infuriating."
"...Just ignore it. Fuck, just ignore it! If some asshole did it, tell me—I'd have backed you up!"
At that moment, Hans had flashed a venomous grin.
"It was you."
"What?"
"You! Right in front of me, you couldn't even handle it and started shit-talking! Barely landing one fireball, snickering like 'Is this even magic?'! That's why! Fuck, that's why I chose this path!"
Chained hands trembling, Hans glared with bloodshot eyes.
"I'll take it slow. Everything you like, everything you cherish—I'll rip it all away."
"..."
And then Hans snapped the last thread of restraint.
"Yuria..."
The name of the girl Ruin saw as just a friend slipped from Hans's lips. Ruin's heart turned to ice.
"Yeah, your precious Yuria."
Malice toward Yuria from his old friend's mouth.
"I'll kill her."
For the first time, Ruin wanted to kill him.
In truth, Hans hadn't mentioned Ricardo at all. Ruin hid the real reason for the breakout to give the Tower Lord a plausible excuse, to avoid worry. It wasn't provocation between him and Ricardo—it stemmed from a threat to Yuria's life.
Hans had crossed the unforgivable line with blazing eyes.
"Better watch her close. No second chances. I got nothing left to lose."
Ruin hadn't held back and swung. He'd fallen neatly into Hans's trap.
Having been royally chewed out by the young lady with a severe case of reading allergy, I sat there with her, staring blankly out the window.
"Hmnya."
"You want to read a magic book?"
"No."
"Ah, then here it is."
"Not gonna."
"Understood. We'll do it this evening, then."
"No way!"
The utterly shameless young lady, true to form, had no idea how a butler felt. Knowledge, once accumulated, was bound to enrich one's life, but she seemed dead set on building a fortress against it, her brain petrified solid.
I pressed my fingers to her temples and twirled them.
"Hweeeek!"
"Gets the blood flowing, stirs up the urge to study."
"Spinning...! World spinning!"
"How's that? Ready to study now...?"
"No! Hate studying!"
Even as pain threatened to drill through her skull, she stubbornly spat her rejection of learning.
Nothing for it, I guess.
It'd be great if she learned magic, but her will was ironclad against it. Forcing her felt wrong—I hated pushing things.
I kept twirling her hair, gazing at the cloud-choked sky.
Oh... snow, maybe? On days like this, some troubled guest always shows up...
I recalled the sword-wielding girl who'd come to the mansion on a rainy spring day, spouting some lame excuse about cheap green tea. She'd cried that day, burdened by heavy secrets. Weather like today—clouds heavy, rain falling. Made me uneasy.
Not that I hated the hassle. No guests expected, anyway.
"Speaking of, it's about that time."
"Huh?"
Overhearing my mutter, she turned to me. Her hair a mess from my "torture," stray strands stuck to her sweaty nose bridge. The tickle made her scrunch her brow.
"E... eh... achoo!"
Squelch.
"Why."
"Snot."
"And...?"
She waved her snotty hand at me. As the profane young lady tried smearing it on my sacred butler suit, I flinched back and fished a handkerchief from my pocket for her.
She blew her nose with a satisfied sniffle, shoulders shivering in delight.
"So, what's starting?"
"Ah... picking tonight's dinner menu."
"Meat."
"Beef stew loaded with bell peppers?"
"Eeeek! Don't abuse the nobility!"
"Sorry. Can't help it—noble-torture's my hobby."
"Hweeeek! I'll starve!"
The Yuria kidnapping arc was creeping up. Heretics who'd sniffed out her divine power would soon try snatching her. Left alone, it'd resolve itself, but something nagged at me.
Staring out the window in a daze for a moment, she irritably brushed away the stray hair and pointed at the mansion gate with a quizzical "Hm?"
"Ricardo. Someone's coming."
"Huh? No one's due."
"Nope. Broomstick's walking over."
"Broomstick?"
I looked down at the yard.
Oh. For real.
A familiar male figure approached from outside. Green hair. The broomstick-lookalike sub-male lead. Ruin, dark expression and all.
Grrrrrowl!!!
Of course, with Gomtangi latched onto his leg.
"Let go! You bear cub!"
Grrrrrowl!
Looked genuine enough.