Reunion (5)
Several days passed. I had no idea exactly how many. My days were measured only by cycles of sleep and waking. I figured it was about the fifth day. My wounds were steadily healing. The pain in my side had dulled to a throb, and my ribs were tolerable as long as I didn't move too much. Hearing every day that I was better off than before felt like a good sign.
Adelaide ventured out of the cave twice a day. Once for water, once for food. It was miraculous that she could scrounge up human-edible stuff in the Land of Darkness, but she said there was a valley an hour east. She'd haul water from there and pick fruits growing nearby. Well, this was a place where people lived, after all.
All I did was lean against the wall and mind the campfire. It frustrated me to be so useless, but honestly, I had no complaints. If I admitted it was just comfortable this way, would she be disappointed in me?
"Eat."
"This again today?"
"Nothing else."
I took the dark red fruit and bit into it. The taste was still lousy. It reminded me of Carmine, but I kept my mouth shut. I'd learned over the past few days that mentioning Istius made Adelaide's face go stiff.
Adelaide leaned against the opposite wall and chewed her share. We didn't talk while eating. In our old days, the silence would've been awkward, but now it was just... fine. The kind of time where sitting wordlessly felt okay. I'd never imagined we'd have that.
"Show me your wounds."
After the meal, she came closer. I hiked up my clothes, revealing bruises fainter than yesterday. The initial bluish hue had faded to yellow. "Almost healed."
"Almost?"
"One or two more days. Then I can walk."
"...When you're fully healed."
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
"What then?"
Adelaide's hands froze. She glanced up at me.
What happens when I'm all better? Do we head back to the citadel? Fight? Split up again? None of those endings felt right, so I shut down the thoughts. Adelaide must've felt the same; she finished checking the wounds in silence and retreated to her spot.
What even was our relationship? Not master and servant, that was for sure. No trace of submission on her face. Every bit of it, from one to ten, was voluntary. Why? Why are you so good to me?
Once, I tried standing and shuffling toward the cave mouth. Three steps in, my side ached fiercely; by the fifth, my knee buckled. Every time I looked back, there she was, standing silently behind me.
"That's enough. Come back."
"...I wanna move around a little."
"No."
"Why?"
"'Cause if you fall and hurt yourself worse, I'll be the one suffering again."
Again, huh. She wasn't wrong, so my days looped: back to leaning against the wall.
Boring was too tame a word for it, but it was peaceful. Tiny things were stacking up. Too trivial for meaning, yet they kept drawing my eye. As the campfire dimmed, I tossed on another branch and sparked the flames with the holy sword.
"...Got a question."
"Shoot."
"Why don't you call me Master anymore?"
"You've never been my master."
"...Ouch."
"Good."
Our lips twitched upward. Mine, hers. We both angled our heads to hide it, so it was the same damn thing. She was right, though. I'd never truly been her master. Just chained her with shadows and forced the title out. No sincerity in it, ever. Adelaide had been unbreakable from the start. Even on her knees, her eyes never died—and she survived. Whatever it took.
Instead, she called me Ailin. Three simple letters. She'd started using my name at some point.
"What about Adel?"
"What."
"Can I still call you Adel?"
Adelaide eyed me. Her face screamed weird question.
"...You gave me that name."
"Exactly. If you hate it—"
"Don't care. Call me what you want."
Straightforward, like she wasn't gonna bother stopping me. Relief hit anyway.
"I'm calling you Ailin."
"You already do."
"...You didn't before."
"Before was before."
"...Yeah."
The flames crackled, smoke curling toward the ceiling. Sleep wouldn't come. Adelaide stared at the fire, eyes wide open. One more thing. About me. This body. I had to say it. Probably my one and only confession. Otherwise, she'd never know the full me. I just... wanted her to.
"...One more."
"What now."
She looked up, eyes weary. Shadows lingered under them.
"I was originally... just some nobody from another world."
A spark popped; her eyes widened slightly.
"..."
"This body belonged to someone else. I just... came into it."
My mouth tasted bitter after saying it. I'd never voiced this to anyone. Not once since arriving here.
Time dragged. While the fire sparked two or three times, she stayed silent. I waited. Ready for shock, revulsion—anything. I'd done the worst already. What was one more?
Finally, she spoke slowly. "...So that's how it is."
Calmer than I'd braced for.
"That's why you couldn't see people as people."
It struck dead center; my chest grew heavy.
"...Maybe. Or maybe not."
"..."
"Dunno. My delusion?"
"Beats me."
A bitter smile slipped out. Yeah, I didn't know. If it was the other world that blinded me to them as people—or if I'd always been that kind of monster.
"...What'd you do there?"
"...What'd I do."
Memories surfaced: nothing special.
"Nada. For real. Ate, slept, gamed. End of story."
"...Games. So what's this 'game' anyway?"
"A kind of entertainment. You become the hero in a fake world... that sorta thing. So I figured this world was one too. Woke up here overnight."
"...Even when you burned the village?"
"...Believed I was the only real one."
I pressed on. No half-measures now.
"When I killed your men... thought it was a game."
"..."
"All just made-up NPCs. Killing 'em didn't matter."
"..."
Her eyes lifted to mine.
"Then... sometime, I realized. They're all people."
"...But you."
"Didn't stop."
"..."
"Admitting it meant no going back. Not a game? Then I'm just a murderer."
Wind whistled in from outside. Adelaide fell silent, long and heavy. Then:
"...And now?"
"Yeah."
"Now?"
It took effort to speak. "Now I know it's real."
That was it. Nothing to add. Knowing didn't resurrect anyone I'd killed. Wasn't begging pardon by admitting insanity. Just wanted her to get it. What I was.
"...Name?"
"Huh?"
"Your name... from there."
A snicker escaped. I opened my mouth, closed it. Not pronunciation—just. Saying it felt like killing the old me for good. Still alive in memories till now, but aloud... I shook my head.
"That name... ain't mine anymore."
She watched me.
"I'm Ailin. The crazy Ailin you called me."
"...Won't apologize for that."
"Don't. It was true."
Ailin. This name was originally hers—this body's. The pre-possession me, glued to the screen gaming? Dead, I figured. Here, I'd bloodied my hands. Torched places. Enslaved. Became Demon King. Nearly died. Got saved. All as Ailin. Every good or bad moment.
"...Forget the old name?"
"Just won't say it."
"Why."
"...Feels like telling you makes it vanish for real."
My face flushed pointlessly. Her expression shifted—baffled, like she didn't know how to respond.
"Weird talk."
"Yeah, I know."
Her shadow and mine overlapped on the wall, weirdly captivating. Mine should've obeyed my will, but now? Plain shadow. Fallout from fighting Gartia? ...When this body's fixed. Can we stay like this?
"...Why'd you save me?"
The same question again. Countless times, no straight answer.
"Told you. You're dying by my—"
"Not that."
"..."
"Real reason."
She met my eyes. Flames danced in her black pupils. Her answer was brutally honest.
"...Dunno. You slaughtered my squad but still wanted to see me... still don't get it."
"..."
"Can't sort the feeling."
"..."
"But you dying? No. That was certain."
Classic Adelaide. Actions first, emotions later—even unsorted, her body moved. That's why the cave, the wound care, the fruit. Maybe I was the same. Insisted NPCs, but couldn't kill her.
"...We both don't know, huh."
"Guess not."
It's fine. No rush to unpack it all. Days, months—who cared. Couldn't stay here forever, but tonight? This was enough.
Eyelids drooped. Dumping all that unsaid stuff left me drained.
"...Adel."
"What."
"Night."
No reply. But soon, her soft, steady breaths tickled my ear.