I Really Hate Perceptive Kids Like You
Barden stood motionless at the crossroads for a long while. Today was the anniversary of Lucia Estella's death. Seridia was bound to come. The letter had been delivered. Elishia had made her move. Yet the path where he waited remained silent and empty.
Much later, Barden's gaze turned toward the mansion. The firmly shut door to Seridia's room, and the silver-haired child who would be lingering by her side. Ria. Barden let out a low breath. Things had grown a bit more troublesome than planned.
The anniversary of Miss Lucia's death. The mansion had been steeped in heavy silence since early morning. But as noon approached, that quiet began to waver bit by bit.
It started with two maids fidgeting in the hallway, whispering to each other. Then footsteps grew hurried and multiplied.
"The eldest miss isn't in her room."
"They say she hasn't been seen since morning."
I set down the water pitcher in my hand. Elishia. Without listening further, I stepped into the hall.
A maid stood before the family head's door, at a loss. She kept raising her hand to knock, then hesitating.
"Did you tell her?" I asked. The maid bit her lip.
"I called several times... but no answer from inside."
I approached the door. "Family Head."
No response.
"They say Elishia is missing."
Still, silence from within. I paused before the door.
A few days ago, this door had slammed shut like this. Hiding the right hand that struck my cheek, leaving only words of apology, but never touching me again—fleeing like a coward. And after that, nothing. No calling voice. No attempt to face me again. Not even a proper apology.
Just locked away and hidden.
My fingertips tightened involuntarily. "Are you going to do this again?"
The maid behind me swallowed softly. I didn't turn, continuing.
"If you're sorry, you shouldn't hide and avoid like this. You should say it directly."
No reply from inside.
"That you were wrong." I grasped the doorknob. "That you're sorry for hurting me."
The door wasn't locked. I pushed it open slowly, revealing the dark room where light was blocked. Thick curtains shrouded it, leaving only silence and faint rays.
The family head sat huddled in a chair by the window. Not the look of someone who'd slept properly in days. Dark circles under her eyes, lips parched. Her right hand clenched tightly on her knee.
Even as I entered, she couldn't lift her head. I shut the door firmly and walked in.
"Elishia is gone."
The family head's shoulders flinched. But that was all. Her gaze still wandered emptily, not toward me. That angered me more.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
Only then did her eyes lift slightly. Vacant, unfocused pupils.
"Ria..." Her voice cracked, like someone who hadn't spoken in days.
I gritted my teeth. "I get that you're scared."
The words didn't come smoothly, catching in my throat, breath unsteady. But I pressed on.
"I even kinda get what you're scared of."
Her right hand clenched harder.
"But don't you think Elishia was scared?"
The family head's eyes wavered. "That child..." Her voice trembled faintly. "That child doesn't want to see me."
I stared straight at her. "Did you ask her?"
Her lips stilled.
"Did Elishia really say that?"
"..."
"She didn't." I stepped closer. "That's just what you think."
"You're the one who's scared, so you decided she'd be scared of you too."
The family head said nothing.
"You did the same to me."
Her gaze finally fixed on my face. This time, I held it firm, no escape.
"You never once asked."
I looked her dead in the eye. "If I liked sweets."
"If I wanted to wear those clothes."
"If I wanted my hair tied like that."
"Ria, I..." She finally spoke. "I did it for you..."
"If it was for me, you should've asked at least once."
Her face hardened. I gripped my hair. The ribbon looser than days ago. Still long silver strands remaining. Hair she'd brushed and tied with ribbons so many times.
"Or even if I wanted to stay in this house."
Her lips parted slightly. "Ria..."
I picked up the scissors from the vanity. In that instant, her voice turned urgent for the first time.
"Ria, that's..."
Snip.
Before she finished, the hair sheared off. Too light, too crisp a sound. Severed strands fell to the floor. Ends now short to my collarbone, swaying by my cheek.
The room fell silent. I faced her squarely.
"Actually, this feels more comfortable."
My voice cracked. But I smiled. "Doesn't it suit me better now?"
She couldn't answer. Lips moved, but no words came. For the first time—truly the first—she looked at my face, not my hair.
My fingertips still trembled. "I'm not saying forget Miss Lucia."
I swallowed.
"But you've been so fixated on the departed Lucia that you've ignored the living, breathing Elishia."
"And my true self—you never saw it once."
A thick silence filled the room, so dense even the clock's ticking vanished. She alternated glances between my shortened hair and face. Then slowly lowered her head to her right hand. Nail marks where blood beaded, stark.
Much later, her lips moved.
"You asked me before."
Her breath fragile, on the verge of breaking. "If I resented Elishia."
I listened without urging.
"I don't know."
"..."
"Seeing her brings back Lucia."
Her fingertips shook. "And what I did that day."
I listened quietly.
"That's why I couldn't go."
Her head dipped slightly. "Not because I hate her."
"Because I don't know what I'd say or do next."
The room quieted.
"Then you should go more."
She looked at me. Lips parted cautiously. "Elishia..."
"Will that child forgive me?"
I shook my head. "I wouldn't."
Her pupils wavered.
"But you still have to go."
My voice rose a bit.
"For all the years you ran and hid."
"For all the time you left her alone."
"This time, you need to be by her side."
The clenched right hand loosened slowly, very slowly. Not fully still—still faintly trembling. But at least this time, she didn't hide it behind her back.
She couldn't rise for a long while. I waited silently. Unlike the pacing outside the door.
Willing her to stand before me. Not to flee.
How much time passed? She gripped the chair arm slowly. Hand still shaking. But she raised her unsteady body.
That was when it happened.
"Family Head!"
An urgent voice from outside. The door burst open as if to break.
It was Barden. His sleeve end soaked dark red with blood. Face pale. Back of his hand gripping the frame smeared with bloodstains.
"The family head's office was attacked."
Her bloodless face hardened coldly in an instant. "What?"
"The council finally sent men. They stormed in for the seal and confidential ledgers."
Barden swallowed, continuing.
"We blocked the office somewhat, but it's not fully suppressed yet."
The room's air chilled.
"Knights and servants already have council plants mixed in."
At that, her gaze flicked to me reflexively. Meaning even this, the family head's bedroom, wasn't safe.
Barden gripped the frame with his bloody hand. "And worse news."
Her pupils shook uneasily.
"Unknown men are at Lucia's tomb too."
"...Near Elishia?"
Her voice crumbled.
Barden bowed his dark face. "Likely professional assassins."
At those words, color drained from her face like frost. Only then did all the pieces click for me.
Elishia was there. At the place where Miss Lucia slept. Alone. Unaware of the killing intent closing in.
"No time, Family Head."
Barden's voice cracked low. "If you don't go now, it'll be too late."
"The knights—"
"Send the knights there now...!"
She said urgently.
"Can't trust them."
Barden cut her coldly. "Can't sort council spies yet. Stay, and it's over."
But she couldn't bolt out immediately. She knew she had to rush to Elishia. Yet her gaze kept drifting to me, feet rooted.
"If you're hesitating because of me, stop."
Her eyes shook.
"I know I'm in danger too."
My voice trembled slightly. But I said it straight.
"Still, right now, that's not where you belong."
I swallowed. "It's by Elishia."
Her lips quivered. "Ria."
"Gonna be late again and regret it?"
Her face crumpled. I didn't yield, pushing once more.
"Go."
She looked at me. Face wanting to hold on. Not wanting to leave. But not this time.
The one she needed to save wasn't me—it was Elishia.
Then Barden beside her chimed in. "I'll watch this child."
Aimed at her. "Family Head, hurry to Elishia."
Her gaze went to Barden. Bloody sleeve. Pale face. Gripping hand. Then back to me.
Still hesitating.
"Go."
After long silence, she finally spoke. "...Please."
To Barden. But eyes stayed on me to the end.
"Just a bit."
Voice trembling. "Wait just a bit, Ria."
I nodded. "Yes."
Only then did she turn. No grabbing me, no wandering. Straight to the tomb where Elishia waited.
Thud-thud-. Her footsteps faded down the hall. I stood frozen until the sound vanished completely.
Barden looked at me. A face full of deep concern, like a kind adult. It felt a little off. When he first saw me, he didn't have eyes like that.
He never hid that I, by the family head's side, irked him. Arrogant eyes that openly showed disdain for the maid stuck to her.
"Come this way."
Barden said. "Not safe here either."
I hesitated briefly, then followed. His steps weren't fast. Like someone wounded, cut and pushing through the mansion.
Yet oddly, his breath stayed even.
We hid in a cramped room deep in the annex. Urgent footsteps and clashing metal passed outside; each time, Barden checked from the door.
How much suffocating time passed? A faint magical vibration hummed from Barden's bosom.
Zing-.
In that instant, Barden froze mid-peek.
"Wait here a moment."
He slowly reached into his bosom. Out came a small crystal orb. A bead with thin black light swirling.
Soon, chill mana flowed from his fingertips, and the black inside writhed.
That moment. The brand on my nape burned like fire. Then deep in my chest, the explosive magic engraved in me resonated with the orb's mana, trembling.
My body moved before my mind. "No."
Barden's leisurely eyes shook wide for the first time.
But next instant, vision spun, dull impact twisting my guts at the solar plexus. Body tumbled to the floor, blood surging in my throat.
Cough, hack. Spitting blood on the ground, Barden stiffened briefly.
Stunned face. Worried face. Hard to believe he'd just kicked me.
He bent hurriedly to approach. "You okay? You lunged so suddenly, I reacted without thinking..."
I gasped face-down on the floor. Vision flickered red with pain, but I saw clearly what he held.
The foul crystal orb with black haze wavering.
"That..."
Blood-mixed voice leaked. "Black mage's magic."
Only after speaking did reason catch up. Same sensation as the black mage's tower. Same as the explosive magic in me.
Explosion. Barden was trying to trigger it now.
Where? For what? No idea. But activating it meant irreversible disaster.
Myriad thoughts scattered. Why does Estella's uncle hold a black mage's artifact? Him? Could he be behind Elishia's past kidnapping by the black mage?
But no time to question.
Barden's worried movement halted sharp. Very slowly. Then a short laugh.
"Ha."
Voice no longer kind.
"The adventurer who found black mage evidence, right?"
He eyed the orb in his hand. "At least, didn't plan to kill you today."
Then looked down at me on the floor.
"Quick on the uptake."
His lip curled faintly.
"My mistake."