Stagnant Favorability -1-
A gentle breeze blows in. The light wind brushes past my hair, cooling the stuffiness in my chest. Good call coming out here. I'd hesitated because it was so late, but the fresh air feels great.
"Nice..."
After more than a week cooped up in the hospital, I'd started getting cabin fever. I leaned on the railing, savoring the moment. It had felt comfortable at first—why the boredom now? Was it the bland hospital food?
-Tasteless.
-No choice. Just eat it.
-Too bland. Boring. Tasteless.
The rest was nice, but I was hitting my limit. Real relaxation happens at home, not a hospital. I closed my eyes calmly against the wind, smiling faintly as I gazed at the northern snowcapped mountains. This is where the protagonist lived. I nodded to myself.
"Pretty, huh."
The landscape of white peaks dusted lightly with snow was stunning. It opened up my chest, brought a sense of peace. If I make bank later, maybe build a vacation home. Nothing permanent, just a spot to visit now and then.
"Heh."
I chuckled softly, indulging in the daydream. Sometimes these fantasies fueled bigger ambitions. Grinning brightly, I tousled my messy hair. Unstyled from hospital life, it fluttered in the slightest breeze—long enough now to cover my eyes. Sweeping it back, I murmured,
"Wonder how Yuria's doing."
The doctor said James had woken up, but I worried. Showing my handsome face to a patient needing mental rest might worsen things, so I hadn't visited. Though the real reason was Yuria.
She'd hate it if I showed up.
I didn't want to intrude on their father-daughter time. And I doubted I'd hear anything nice. Hard to put into words. Not outright hostility, but she seemed subtly uncomfortable with me. Ever since last seeing Yuria, I hadn't mustered the courage.
I'm used to being hated, but I didn't know how to respond. Of course she'd hate me. After what I did, grinning like an idiot felt wrong. We'd reconciled, but my skin wasn't that thick. Favorability hadn't budged much anyway.
Gazing at the northern mountains, I recalled the favorability I'd seen a week ago, a bitter smile crossing my lips.
Favorability: 13
"..."
Thinking of Yuria always brought regrets. I could've steered things better. A different mindset might've led to happiness for us both. Like locking her in the closet for three hours.
-Splash this medicine in Yuria's face.
-Sounds fun. Who does it?
-Dunno, trick one of the kids into it.
Or the class bullying.
-Hey, tomorrow say we'll eat together and ditch her.
-Good idea. Say it's a class thing...
There were better solutions, but back then fists felt closer. I handled things crudely, terrified of Yuria getting hurt. Surely smarter ways existed. My rash judgment might've hurt her more. Regret lingered, even if it was all in the past.
The cold wind tickled my chest refreshingly, as if urging me to shake off old regrets and move on, perfuming my heart.
"Time to head in."
Bedtime. Couldn't let the Young Lady steal my spot. I scooped some snow from the railing, smirking. Put it on her forehead. As I formed a fist-sized snowball, footsteps approached from the balcony.
A patient?
Not the Young Lady's gait. I listened closely to the weary steps, waiting for the door.
"Oh."
Familiar face. Someone awkward to see, someone I felt sorry for. A foolishly kind, nosy woman opened the glass door.
Her damp eyes met mine. Softly, I called,
"Yuria."
She was underdressed again, as always—seemed she'd blow away in a gust. What was she doing out so late? Smiling faintly, I said,
"Wind's cold."
"..."
"You'll catch a cold like that."
I slipped off my cardigan and reached to drape it over her still shoulders.
-Flinch.
Still mad?
I chuckled awkwardly, pausing, then covered her anyway. Couldn't let Yuria get sick, protagonist or not—bad look if she caught a cold tiptoeing around the possessor. Shaking my head lightly, I smiled awkwardly.
"Washed it today—no smell."
The oversized cardigan swallowed her arms. Her sloppy look was amusing, but her stiff expression killed the joke. Better keep it calm. Thoughtfully, I picked a safe topic she'd like, something low-pressure.
"Hey, Yuria."
"..."
"Heard the news. Your father's awake..."
She nodded. Head down, expression hidden, but the nod eased me.
"Must've been tough."
"..."
"He'll recover quick. It'll be fine."
-Grip.
Silent Yuria bit her lip, holding a long quiet.
"..."
As the silence dragged, I cautiously glanced at her favorability window for a hint to break it. But it only muddled things more.
I muttered at the window,
Tricky...
Preferred Conversation Topics
Depressed · Guilt · Rather you'd curse me out · Scared · Sorry
Never seen someone so down, but the heroine brimming with unease? Felt wrong. And worse...
"..."
The churning emotions seemed aimed at me. Couldn't speak freely. The Young Lady must've said something. Breathing the northern breeze, I pondered. My hidden lie exposed at last.
Didn't want to play hero dramatically or brooding villain. Best to just be myself.
-Step.
I stepped closer, grasping her cardigan buttons.
"Cold."
Kneeling carefully to button it, Yuria bit her lip hard.
-Tremble...
Shoulders shaking with sorrow, she heaved deep breaths, lips nearly bursting. Smiling softly at her sad face, I murmured,
"You okay?"
"..."
"Been rough, huh."
At my gentle concern, she shook her head, bowing lower.
"N-no... Why would I be the one suffering..."
I asked again, voice soft as stroking a crumbling wall.
"No one in the world escapes hardship. Me, the Young Lady, you—all of us."
"..."
"Just varies how much we can bear."
-Sniffle...
"You've had it hard, right?"
Trembling, she said,
"I c-can't... I can't suffer."
"If I do... I'm the idiot... It's all my fault..."
She shook her head at the hard words, clutching her chest in fists. Maybe that's what she craves. Desperate for curses, abuse. But no.
"It's okay."
Finished buttoning, I stepped back. Her teary eyes followed me. Swollen red from crying, her face loomed like a loach.
Pfft.
My faint smile cracked her facade wider.
"Sorry..."
As if begging me not to leave, her sad rush of words. Smiling softly, I perched carefully on the railing.
"Don't cry."
And gave the simplest reply.
"Ruins your pretty face."