Catastrophe (1)
Several days later, in the morning. I'd grown strangely accustomed to this attic room. Adelaide sat leaning against the wall as always, gazing out the window. When I sat up, her eyes met mine.
"You're awake."
"Yeah. Did I sleep long?"
"No, just right."
"You were up first?"
"...I've always risen early. It's just habit now."
I stretched, twisting my body as my fingertips nearly brushed the ceiling. It had been quite some time since I started hauling luggage. I hadn't counted the exact days, but waking up in the morning no longer felt awkward.
These days weren't boring—they felt... what? Not bad, somehow. Peaceful, if I had to put a word to it. Yeah, that fit.
Her mention of habit reminded me—I'd picked up a new one myself lately. Nothing elaborate: just asking in the morning what she wanted to do.
"Adel, what do you wanna do today?"
"...Need to buy something."
"Something?"
"My underwear's worn out."
Underwear.
"...Underwear?"
"...Why repeat it?"
"No reason. Just caught me off guard."
"It's not sudden. Haven't changed them since we got here."
She had a point. Since arriving in Istius, she'd only swapped outer clothes a few times—the rest stayed the same. I'd assumed she didn't care, since it didn't bother me.
"Pick some out yourself."
"Don't you have the money, Master?"
"Oh, right."
"...You have to come with."
"Got it. Let's eat first, then go."
"Okay."
After breakfast, the midday streets buzzed with NPCs. Adelaide walked ahead confidently, her back familiar to me now in ways I hadn't noticed.
"...You know where we're going?"
"Near the market. Checked it out once before."
"Sharp eyes."
"Occupational habit."
"Former occupation."
"...Shut up."
We ended up in a narrow alley on the market's edge. The faded sign made it easy to miss—if we hadn't gone in, I'd have passed right by. Inside was bigger than expected, baskets piled with fabrics, clothes, all sorts. One corner held a variety of underwear.
The owner approached us. "Looking for anything specific?"
"...Underwear."
"Over there—help yourself!"
Adelaide scanned the shelves cautiously, picking up one, setting it down, then another. Her serious deliberation made me pout.
"Why's it taking so long?"
"...Let me choose carefully."
"What's there to think about?"
"I'm the one wearing it. Of course I'm careful."
"What's so obvious? Just wear it."
"This fabric's too rough. This one's shape is weird."
"You're so picky."
"It's not picky—it's normal. You're the twisted one."
She fell silent and kept selecting, her expression so focused it was almost funny. Finally, she picked a set—black, provocatively styled. Hadn't noticed before, but she seemed to like a mature vibe.
"This one."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'll wear this."
"How much?"
"Four coins!"
Fair... fair enough? No sting of regret, oddly. I handed over the coins wordlessly and left. Adelaide tucked the underwear inside her clothes and followed, steps lighter—satisfied, clearly.
"Nothing else?"
"No."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Gloves?"
"No need. They give me spares if required."
"Palms not hurting anymore?"
"Double-layered now, so fine. Wounds healed ages ago—no need to fuss."
"I said I wasn't fussing. It's just visible."
"...Got it."
As we chatted and walked, memories of recent days surfaced: munching carmine fruit while browsing the market, hauling loads, collapsing side by side at the inn. Filled with her voice, breaths, warmth. Those mundane routines felt strangely good.
"...No."
"What?"
"Nothing. Let's head back."
"Yeah, this way's quicker."
Adelaide led us down an unfamiliar path. NPCs passed between us on the street. I knew it wasn't intentional—just a shortcut. But on the wide avenue stood a large building. Ornate crest above the main gate. The knight order branch—I'd only heard of it.
A bulletin board covered the front wall, plastered with wanted posters, search notices, reward lists—variety aplenty. Normally, I wouldn't glance twice.
Adelaide stopped.
"Adel?"
No reply. Her gaze fixed on one spot. I turned to look.
Tucked among the papers: a single notice.
Vice-Captain Adelaide von Estia and multiple others reported missing.
Search team discovered numerous knight remains in the surrounding forest area.
Identity confirmation ongoing. Rewards offered for additional information.
Adelaide's face drained white. Her hands trembled faintly.
Why? Nothing to fear—yet chills crawled over my skin.
"In the forest..."
Her lips moved. Unfinished sentence.
"...bodies...?"
I grabbed her arm quick. "Let's go."
"Wait... this—"
"Standing around draws eyes. It's the knight branch."
"But—"
"Adel, come on."
I pulled; she followed without resistance. But her gaze lingered.
Once in the alley, her steps slowed.
"Adel."
"..."
"You listening?"
"...Yes."
"Walk faster."
"...Okay."
Walk faster. Pass it quick. Forget it fast.
Back in the attic, neither of us spoke. I sat against one wall, head back; she against the opposite.
Normally, I'd break the silence—suggest dinner, ask plans. Lately, she'd started first more often.
"...Dinner?"
"...No."
"Not hungry?"
"...Not now."
Again? She skipped last time too.
"...Skip it, and tomorrow sucks."
"I know."
"Then why?"
"...Just a bit longer."
"A bit"—vague, but I'd wait. Sunset bled through the window.
'Search team discovered numerous knight remains in the forest.'
The line looped in my head. Alone, ignorable—but her face flashed too: bloodless, lips twitching, words unspoken.
...So what? NPC saw a notice. Not my problem—
Adelaide spoke. "Master."
"...Yeah?"
"One question."
"...Ask."
She clasped hands on knees—posture more deferential than ever. Desperate.
Window light cast shadows on her face.
"The shadows on my subordinates... so, they're still alive, right?"
"...Don't worry. Told 'em they'd live if they obey."
Expected question—from the board's moment. Or inevitable someday. Today was it.
Same lie as before. Once meaningless—NPCs, fiction.
"They're alive?"
"Yeah."
"Shadows attached, but... you said before. Haven't touched them."
"Right. All fine."
"...Okay."
She bowed her head—accepting tone. But laced with wishful belief, not true faith.
When had I learned to spot that nuance?
"Then the forest ones...?"
"Other knights?"
"...Notice said Royal Guard."
"Missing persons search. Not you."
"Not just me—multiple remains..."
"Adelaide."
She stopped.
"It's fine."
"..."
"Told you—they're alive."
"..."
"Don't trust me?"
She shook her head. Slowly.
"...No. Not doubting you."
"Then we're good."
"...Just... the notice messed with my head."
"No need. Obey here—that's it."
"...Yeah."
"No reason I'd lie. Right?"
"...Probably not."
Probably not.
Right. No reason to lie to an NPC. Nothing to gain.
...But I am.
Adelaide stood, sipped water from the jug. Gulp, gulp—long exhale. Turned to me.
"...Dinner now?"
"Hungry?"
"Not so much hungry... more like, as you said, skipping'll make tomorrow tough."
"Yeah. Let's go."
Door open, down stairs. Her steps echoed half a pace behind—slower than usual.
I didn't look back. She'd see my face.
...Nothing changed. It's a game. Her subordinates? NPCs. Never alive to begin with.
That's fine.
Night breeze brushed skin outside. We walked to the temple in silence. Adelaide too. No words.