The Place Where We First Met
The Place Where We First Met
Rosaria and Canaria were in a carriage heading toward the Holy Kingdom.
-I don't think this is a story to tell here. Could we move somewhere else for a moment, Rosaria?
It was a sincere request—she wanted to move our conversation to the Holy Kingdom. Since I didn't know what she was going to talk about, or what kind of past it was, I silently went along with her. And so, we traveled in silence, without exchanging a word.
Canaria broke the quiet.
"...Riding in a carriage with Rosaria reminds me of back then."
We'd ridden in this carriage on our first date, too. The memory of that time—when Canaria, having lost all reason, had pounced on me—was still vivid. Maybe it was because of that engraved memory? The nape of my neck felt strangely ticklish.
"...You won't do that again this time, will you?"
"Fortunately, I haven't lost my reason at the moment."
Saying that, Canaria naturally interlaced her fingers with mine.
"And... I have something serious to tell Rosaria now. I want to pull myself together, with a somewhat heavier heart."
I could feel her grip tighten slightly. Even though she wore a nonchalant expression, pretending nothing was wrong, I could sense her anxiety through those small details.
"...If it's too hard for you right now, you don't have to do this."
Presumptuous as it might be, I loved Canaria. Because of that, I didn't want to see her in pain. And more than anything, I loved the ordinary days I spent with her.
If telling me about that past meant Canaria would suffer, and if hearing it meant we could never go back to those ordinary days.
Coward that I am, I wouldn't have minded staying forever in that paradise I kept escaping to, knowing nothing.
Of course, this wasn't some disgusting act of self-serving self-protection. It was genuine worry, born from my heart, for Canaria, not for myself.
"...When Rosaria wishes to hear it, I could never refuse. And besides, it's a story you'll have to know someday anyway. Think of it as moving up what was meant for tomorrow to today."
She forced a smile, but her hands were trembling. Just what kind of past could make her struggle so much? It was enough to make my weak heart wonder if we should just cancel this now.
But asking that now would be rude. I'm not so heartless that I could say to Canaria, who was fighting so hard to speak despite the pain, "Since you're scared, shall we stop here?" Wouldn't that be a dirty deception, trampling all over Canaria's pride?
Because I loved Canaria,
I respected her choice, even if it pained her.
I simply watched as she forced a smile, overcame the fear settling in her heart,
and took one incredibly difficult step forward after another.
"...Now, it's about time we got off."
Saying that, Canaria opened the door. Then, just like that time, she began to change her appearance and hide her identity. Black hair and golden eyes. Canaria transformed into her fake identity, Serena, just like before.
Then she got off first and helped Rosaria settle into her wheelchair.
"...Then, may I ask just one last favor?"
Canaria spoke the moment I was seated in the wheelchair.
"...Please listen to the very end, no matter how painful it gets."
Then she held out her pinky, asking for a promise.
Of course, Rosaria swore that promise without a moment's hesitation.
*
The weather today was perfectly clear—the kind of late autumn day where the bright sky and crisp air delighted the eyes and skin. And the Holy Kingdom looked tidy and serene, befitting such beautiful weather.
From priests praying reverently, to children running around excitedly on the playground, to those quietly reading scripture and studying—the Holy Kingdom was a nation that seemed to embody the very word 'piety.'
"...In your eyes, Rosaria, how does the Holy Kingdom of 'now' look?"
It was a question layered with multiple intentions. On the surface, it seemed like a simple invitation to evaluate, but it could be interpreted differently depending on one's perspective.
"...Should I say it's pious? Or perhaps, exemplary?"
Regrettably, my vocabulary isn't very good. So while I was giving only vague answers, unable to settle on either, the most fitting phrase flashed through my mind.
"......It's an ideal image."
The Holy Kingdom (聖國), unpacked, meant a sacred nation.
The Holy Kingdom of 'now' lived up to its name, presenting an ideal image—a nation of those who sought God, those who believed in God, and those who were grateful for God's grace.
The surface-level Holy Kingdom, basking in bright light, appeared that way.
"...That's a relief. Because it means my efforts weren't in vain."
With those meaningful words, the Saintess continued onward.
Before long, we were crossing the boundary of the Holy Kingdom—a restricted zone marked as off-limits to everyone.
The place was protected by a barrier created by the Saintess, permitting only her to enter. So, like opening a firmly shut door, the Saintess before my eyes dispelled the barrier and kept moving forward.
"...But, Rosaria. The Holy Kingdom of the past wasn't like this."
They say the brighter the light, the darker the shadow.
And the place we were heading to now was where the shadows of the Holy Kingdom lay.
"...The Holy Kingdom of the era when Rosaria and I lived was a wretched nation that failed to live up to its name."
Creeeak— the Saintess stopped walking, and simultaneously, the wheelchair came to a halt. The place they stopped was an old, crumbling, decaying orphanage. An abandoned orphanage, left with broken toys and curtains draped in cobwebs.
"...Do you remember?"
Was it a place of memories? But of course, I didn't remember. Rosaria conveyed denial by shaking her head instead of an answer.
"...This is the place where we first met."
Having uttered those words, the Saintess stepped in front of Rosaria.
"...And, this is how I greeted Rosaria here."
Before I knew it, Canaria had come right before my eyes. Keeping her black hair and golden eyes as they were, she politely bowed and greeted me.
"The shadow of the Holy Kingdom greets the Saintess-nim, is what I said."
As if saluting the Saintess, Canaria greeted Rosaria.
All those actions were over by the time my thoughts could even begin to catch up. But for some reason, this scene in front of me didn't feel entirely unfamiliar.
Just as a dragonfly with its head cut off keeps moving, something etched into my body, predating the thoughts in my head, tried to bloom.
And so, I tried to recall that fact.
At that moment, a severe headache rose up, and dizziness began to surge.
"You will not remember. But I remember."
Fragments of hazy memories, as if mosaic-censored, began to churn ceaselessly in my head. A cold sweat broke out, pouring like mad. And as my body rejected that foreign sensation so violently that I nearly vomited, Rosaria barely managed to cover her mouth.
Regardless, Canaria continued her story.
"...Then, let me give you some options."
Canaria raised her fingers.
"The first is simply hearing the story of the 'Rosaria' you cannot remember. Just the basics—what kind of person she was, what she liked, what she hated. And the reason for her memory loss."
In a way, it was an option you could call a dud. I didn't come here wanting to hear that level of information. Reading my expression, Canaria immediately presented the second option.
"The second is listening to the story of this world, which Rosaria cannot remember. Alongside the story of the 'Rosaria' who lived in that world, and the atrocities that world committed against you as well."
Regrettably, neither of those two suited me.
"...Then, I'll pick the third one."
So, clutching my head, I raised three fingers and asked for the third option, Rosaria did.
"...The third is listening to the whole story of Canaria, which I don't know. How she lived, what she likes, what she hates. And even the atrocities this world committed against Canaria. All of it."
At that question, Canaria's expression was not very good.
"...May I ask why you chose that?"
It was a question with no reason not to answer. So without hesitation, I immediately conveyed my thoughts to her.
"...Because if I listen to the story of the 'Rosaria' that Canaria knows, I can also learn about Canaria's past. I'm sorry to say, but 'I' am a greedy person. I simply want to hear the story of Canaria—the woman who loves Rosaria, and the person I love."
It wasn't a lie. Because I liked her, I wanted to know. Why she loved Rosaria, what she liked, what she hated. From colors to food, tastes, commonalities, slightly different preferences, current thoughts and past dreams, future hopes. I wanted to know everything.
Because she knew Rosaria's past, loved the present, and even promised the future. I wanted to return an equal amount of the love I had received. Just as Canaria had done for Rosaria.
It might be a nauseating act. It might be overstepping my bounds, or perhaps an atrocity that taints her pure and beautiful love.
"...And one more thing."
I had already crossed the line more than enough. But now that I had crossed it, couldn't I take one more step forward? Throwing caution to the wind with that impulsive feeling, I was even tossing in a gamble.
"I also want to know why you called 'me' Rosaria back then."
-No, you are definitely the Rosaria I know.
I was curious about the truth and intent behind those words. Because that statement, which never left my mind like a thorn stuck in my throat, was driving me crazy with curiosity.
-The you reflected in my eyes is definitely Rosaria.
Was it merely empty consolation with no real reason?
-So, please don't have such sad thoughts.
Was it just a lie to pull me out of my sorrow?
-Because the you reflected in the Saint's eyes— which can see both body and soul— is definitely the Rosaria I know.
Or was it self-brainwashing?
-Please don't doubt yourself.
If not that, was it really true that I was Rosaria?
In a situation where anything could be the right answer and anything could be the wrong one, I simply wanted to hear the correct answer from the very person who had spoken those words.
"...You really are full of greed."
Canaria made a troubled expression.
"...But, I don't have the right to refuse, do I?"
And then immediately, she showed a look of having resigned herself to everything.
"Because there's no way I can betray Rosaria's request."
Canaria wore a complicated face. At the same time, she used magic to move a single old chair behind her. Then, as she sat down, she opened her mouth, her heart steeled.
First, Canaria launched into the introduction of her story.
"......I was a cursed child from the moment I was born."
And so, she began to tell that past which only she knew in this world.