The White Night of Seven Days - 3
A long breath escaped him. His expression twisted into a deep frown. The words he'd managed to utter felt utterly pathetic, and he couldn't shake the thought that after all this time, after circling back through endless regressions to stand here, this was all he could say? He was putting on a show like some useless idiot who couldn't even string a proper sentence together.
That realization flooded Vera with shame, a red flush creeping over his face. His gaze instinctively flicked to Rene's expression. Though she'd masked her surprise, there was no malice toward him there. And damn it, he shouldn't feel this way—but a small relief bubbled up inside him at the fact that she couldn't see his ridiculous face. Can't start off looking like a clown, right? With that thought, he let out a short breath, cleared his throat, and tried again, facing her squarely.
"I'm no suspicious stranger, so please don't worry. I'm on your side."
It was the fear that she might see him as some shady figure that had prompted it. But had that just been another blunder, flaunting his own stupidity?
"Uh... where exactly are you taking me?"
The question slipped out. Only then did Vera realize he hadn't told her anything—not even his name. A twin-level moronic mistake. Of course she wouldn't know him on a first meeting. She wouldn't know his affiliation. And yet he'd said nothing about it? What the hell had he been doing?
Fresh shame surged within him at the thought, and he scrambled to continue. "The Holy Kingdom...! I'm from the Holy Kingdom."
"...Pardon?"
"I've come here to protect you, Saint—"
Vera's rambling words cut off abruptly as Rene flinched in surprise. A faint shadow fell over her face. Her expression was darkening by the second. The question rose in his mind: Why that reaction? As he pondered, her response came.
"...I'm not that kind of person."
Her words hit him like a revelation. Looking at her darkened expression, Vera belatedly recalled her current state.
...Resentment.
Resentment toward the Lord God. For stealing her sight and granting only a single stigmata in return. That envy must be festering inside her. And since he'd heard it straight from her own mouth, it was a certainty.
An oh shit moment hit him, and he hurriedly bowed his head.
Clench. His fist balled up.
You fucking idiot! What the hell are you doing? Screwing this up because you can't talk right?
Panic filled him. He had to salvage this somehow. He opened his mouth to try, but—
"Pl—"
"Please go back. I'm not a saint."
Her words clawed at his heart.
"...Looks like you've come to the wrong place. I'm just a blind girl from some rural backwater village."
It choked the air from his lungs.
"Sorry if I'm not the one you're looking for. I hope you find the real saint. Goodbye."
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The quick rhythm rang out. The saint—Rene—probed the ground with her cane and vanished into the house with its striking red roof. The door shut. The white waves of her hair faded from view. The woman he'd finally reached slipped away again. The thick brown door—
Thud.
It sealed her away from him without a shred of mercy.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The cane struck the ground, echoing sharply. In time with it—
Step. Step. Step.
Rene let out a deep sigh at the footsteps trailing behind her and spoke. "Why do you keep following me?"
"My apologies."
His low voice replied. Frowning slightly, she added, "I'm not the person you're looking for, sir knight."
"My apologies."
It had been two days now, and this holy knight from the Holy Kingdom shadowed her every time she stepped outside. Even when she insisted she wasn't the saint, even when she begged him to leave—he just muttered "my apologies" like a parrot and stuck to her like glue. As a result, sighs had been a constant on her lips these past couple of days.
"...Shouldn't you be searching for the saint? You don't have time to waste like this."
"...My apologies."
That damn apology again. Frustration welled up inside her, but she couldn't bring herself to snap at him, so she just sighed heavily. ...His voice was too deep, too sunken with sincerity to lash out at. Plus, he wasn't doing anything but following—no grounds to complain. He kept just enough distance that her sweeping cane never touched him, never interfered. Each step thudded heavily against the ground. He never spoke unless spoken to first. So how could she chase him off? Sure, harsh words came to mind easily enough. You're creeping me out. You give me chills. I tremble in fear at night because of you. She knew she could say it. But Rene wasn't the type to spit venom like that at anyone, let alone someone who seemed well-intentioned.
If she'd sensed any ill will from him, she might've unleashed it without hesitation. But this knight always addressed her with utmost reverence, as if she were the Holy Emperor herself. How could she hurl abuse at him?
"...How long do you plan to follow me?"
"My apologies."
The same words again. Exhausted, Rene turned forward and swung her cane once more.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Step. Step. Step.
The two sounds moved in perfect rhythm. Every time her cane hit the ground, Vera's footsteps followed. The sun was setting, but under the endless white night, the sky remained a vivid blue. Four precise steps behind her, Vera watched Rene's back, matching her pace exactly. His eyes scanned her and her surroundings constantly. Anything flying at her? Big rocks ahead? Petty worries, but he checked anyway.
...He couldn't speak. Plenty of words bubbled up. You need to go to the Holy Kingdom. You can't stay here. They'll come for you. Turn this whole territory into a bloodbath—not just you, everyone. Harsh realities. But he couldn't force them on her. It felt like trampling her will, so he just trailed silently.
Back during his training in the Holy Kingdom, such thoughts had often surfaced. If I end up guarding your side, what will I look like? Standing tall beside you? Leading the charge against enemies? But maybe those were just arrogance. Now that the day had come, he couldn't even stand at her side—merely skulking behind like this. Pitiful, regrettable. Yet it didn't feel utterly hopeless. He was walking with her, after all. Rome wasn't built in a day.
...Vera knew the truth. She hadn't accepted him. This fourteen-year-old Rene, harboring resentment toward God, simply lacked the venom to drive him off. She couldn't muster the malice to shake him. It was so quintessentially her kindness—and he was leeching off that goodness, clinging to her shadow. That realization stirred a sticky self-loathing in his gut when—
"Sir knight."
Rene spoke.
"Yes."
"Why did you become a holy knight?"
Stunned, Vera stared blankly at the back of her head. Only when he registered the question did his expression slacken.
"...What makes you believe in the gods? I just don't get it. So many people believe, but almost no one experiences their miracles. So why does everyone go so crazy for them?"
Vera tensed his mind. This time, I have to answer right. He thought of the perfect response for her. I believe in their glory. Their omnipotence. The powers they've bestowed. Answers lined up, but none satisfied him. All empty platitudes he didn't even believe himself.
Dissatisfied, he recalled who could give the wisest reply to such a question. What would the Holy Emperor say? That old man—how would he put it?
...Meaningless.
Yes. Mimicking the Holy Emperor would be pointless. A deception. Those words weren't for this fourteen-year-old Rene. He thought again. What would speak to a girl who resents God? He recalled her. And after a moment, his answer came.
"...I don't believe."
"Pardon?"
"I don't believe in the gods. Not their glory, not their omniscience—none of it."
Halt. Rene's steps stopped. Vera's did too. Her head turned back. Her blind gaze aimed at empty air, but Vera knew that gesture—she was trying to look at him.
"Aren't you a holy knight? Can you even say that?"
"It's the truth, so there's nothing else to say."
A hollow laugh escaped her at his reply.
"...Interesting. Then why become a holy knight if you don't believe?"
As the next question came, Vera swallowed the urge to blurt because of you, took a breath, and thought. Why did I become a holy knight? An apostle? What's an answer that isn't about her? Surprisingly, it came easily.
"I wanted to learn how to protect."
"...How to protect?"
"Yes. There's a light I dare to follow, so I became a holy knight to learn how to guard it."
It still pointed to her at its core, but within what he knew, it was the reason furthest from her, so he had no choice but to say it.
Rene chewed her lip thoughtfully at his answer, then asked, "So... did you learn?"
His lips pressed shut. Do you know how to protect? He had only one honest reply.
"...Not yet."
"I see."
Snort. A feeble laugh slipped out. Her mood seemed subdued. Watching her made his chest tighten uncomfortably, so he added quickly.
"But becoming a holy knight taught me how to learn it."
At the edge of his vision, Rene's face took on a strange, subtle glow. Vera continued his thoughts while watching her. He didn't know how to protect yet, didn't wield the sword of protection. He wasn't wise enough; in just over four years, he'd only grasped his own arrogance and ignorance. Alone, he might never figure it out. But luckily, the world's wisest person stood before him.
"Now that I've learned how to learn, I'll seek out that sword of protection."
Follow her, and someday she'd show him the answer. Vera bowed his head. An endlessly courteous gesture—one she couldn't see.
It was then, while his head was still lowered, that Rene spoke.
"...That's admirable. I'll cheer you on."
With that, she turned forward and resumed walking.
Step. Step. The cane tapped the ground again. Vera raised his head late, gazed at her retreating back, and murmured softly.
"Such gracious words."