A Happy Life
The fragile warmth of her body came through clearly in Bella's arms.
She was small and gaunt, yet braver than anyone — and Bella wanted nothing more than to hold her tighter still.
But then—
"Stop crying, senior."
As if those words had snapped her back to herself, Bella slowly loosened her arms.
Yeon drew back with a faintly embarrassed look, and Bella carefully released her from the embrace.
Wait…
Bella's gaze drifted, almost of its own accord, down to Yeon's legs.
The bruises and torn scrapes were still vivid, still raw.
"…Why haven't you healed those wounds?"
The question slipped out before she could stop it.
During the battle, Yeon had displayed an almost unbelievable regenerative power. Later, when Bella learned it was the Headmistress's magic, it had made sense.
With magic like that, wounds of this sort should have been gone in an instant…
Yeon averted her eyes for a moment, then answered with an awkward expression.
"Well… if I did… people might think it was strange."
"Strange?"
"Yeah. Everyone saw me get hit. If I just walked around without a scratch… uh… well… weird rumors might start, right?"
She's fretting over something that small?
If it hurt, she should just get it treated.
Remembering the way Yeon had limped, Bella felt even more wretched.
"Still, get them treated. Leave them like this and you'll scar."
Bella opened a drawer, pulled out a potion, and held it out — but Yeon shook her head.
"I'm fine. In this situation, if I go get treatment somewhere, people will get suspicious. It's better if I just leave like this."
Bella urged her several more times, warning that the scars would remain, but Yeon refused stubbornly.
In the end, Bella at least dug out an old skirt of her own so Yeon wouldn't have to feel ashamed. It was a size larger than what Yeon usually wore. Along with it, she offered a pair of long socks that would cover the calves.
"Then at least put these on. Better to keep the wounds covered."
Yeon looked at the clothes, hesitated a moment, then smiled faintly.
"They're nice…"
She took them, still seeming to waver.
Perhaps she felt Bella's worried — or maybe pitying — gaze. Reluctantly, she nodded.
"…Okay. I'll wear them."
Yeon clutched the skirt and socks to her chest and stood there for a beat. Then she looked up at Bella with an awkward air.
Slightly flushed cheeks. Unsteady eyes. It was a completely different face from her usual self — defenseless, almost fragile.
"Um… do I have to change here?"
Her shoulders hunched small, her gaze darting about with nowhere to settle — she looked for all the world like a lost kitten.
In that instant, something unexpected rose from the depths of Bella's heart. A strangely dark, and at the same time fiercely intense, impulse.
Should I tell her to change right here?
The thought flickered through her.
She wanted to keep looking at that flustered, embarrassed face.
She wanted to order her — command her — to change clothes right here, right in front of her eyes.
That red-faced, helpless hesitation.
She wanted to watch Yeon tremble with shame and still not dare refuse, stripping off her clothes one by one.
She wanted to see those wounds on that slender body with her own eyes, then dress her in her own clothes and claim her completely—
…What am I thinking right now!
Bella recoiled inwardly and shook her head hard. The sordid thought that had just brushed past her made her skin crawl.
Disgusted with herself, she hastily composed her expression. Suppressing the dark impulse inside her, she spoke in as casual a voice as she could manage.
"No. The bathroom's over there. By the door. Yeah — right there."
Bella pointed with her chin toward the bathroom door.
Her voice might have trembled slightly, but Yeon didn't seem to notice. She gave a small bow and walked carefully toward the bathroom.
Only after watching Yeon close the door behind her did Bella let out a long breath. Her heart was still racing uneasily.
What had that feeling just now even been?
Bella tried to steady her confused mind.
This was not the time for thoughts like that.
Before long the bathroom door opened again, and Yeon emerged in the changed clothes.
The skirt Bella had given her was a little large on Yeon, but the loose fit only seemed to emphasize her delicate frame all the more.
The long socks covered the scars on her calves perfectly.
Compared to how she had looked earlier, soaked through, she appeared far more put-together.
Yeon dipped her head slightly toward Bella.
"Thanks for the clothes, senior."
A faintly shy voice.
"…It's nothing."
Bella answered awkwardly, looking away. The turmoil in her heart still refused to settle.
"Well then, I'll head out."
Yeon offered a brief farewell and started toward the door.
In that moment, Bella almost reached out without thinking.
Don't go. The words rose all the way to her throat.
That dark impulse from earlier lifted its head again.
Wouldn't it be better… to keep her by my side?
Suddenly, the memory of Bastille Prison surfaced.
Yeon locked away in that cold cell.
A space cut off from the outside world. A perfectly controlled environment.
Helpless, confined within it.
As Yeon herself had said, she was deliberately building her own notoriety so the world would hate her — using the press, stoking people's misunderstandings, all of it.
So did this child really need to keep getting hurt out there in that world?
Outside, all that waited for her were cold stares, condemnation, contempt.
Wouldn't it be better to lock her away safely at her side instead?
Bella was certain of it.
Yes, Yeon would be stripped of her freedom and placed under her watch… but at least she could give her a life far better than being exposed to indiscriminate hatred and violence.
A warm room. Good food. And… she could cherish and protect her in her own way.
Yes. This might be the best path for Yeon. Rather than suffering under the world's hatred, living a stable life at her side — wouldn't that be a more happy life for her, too?
Bella's fantasies began to chain together, drifting toward something dangerous.
And then—
Yeon reached out to open the door.
But her hand missed the doorknob by a wide margin, grasping at empty air.
Her balance gone, Yeon's body lurched and pitched forward.
"Yeon!"
Bella cried out her name on pure reflex.
She was about to rush over when Yeon quickly planted a hand on the floor and staggered back to her feet.
"I-I'm fine. Just… tripped by accident."
Yeon laughed lightly, as if it were nothing, and brushed off her palm — but her expression was clearly flustered, and her movements were unnatural.
Tripped?
Bella froze.
What she had just seen did not look like a simple misstep.
It looked more like someone who couldn't properly gauge where her target was.
In that moment, the subtle sense of wrongness she had felt during their conversation earlier came flooding back.
When their eyes had met — the feeling that one of Yeon's pupils wasn't quite fixed on her, that it was slightly off.
She had dismissed it then as nothing. But now, layered over the moment Yeon had missed the doorknob, an ominous premonition cut through Bella's mind.
She bit her lip quietly.
Don't tell me…
"Haa… I really need to hold back from now on."
I muttered under my breath as I straightened my clothes and hair. The outfit that had just barely started to dry while I was comforting Bella was damp all over again, and my hair was soaked once more.
Gross.
Even I had to admit that had been brain-dead. I'd only been limping a little because I wanted to soak in a bit more misery — and of course Senior Bella had to see it…
Watching her break down and sob while hugging me, I felt a little… no, a lot guilty.
Even so, I had absolutely no intention of telling her the truth.
No matter how close we were, there was no way I could just openly confess my filthy desires…
And my tastes were, by any standard, deeply abnormal.
Still, she seemed to have more or less accepted the explanation, so that was a relief.
I just copied my favorite line of Rina's dialogue, that's all.
But not everything I'd said to her had been a lie.
I really do think it's fortunate that someone with Masochist like me ended up sealing the Evil God's power.
Thanks to that, I get to enjoy so m—
Haa…
Anyway…
The ability's performance is excellent, so I might as well train with it while I'm at it…
Anyway.
If I didn't have this power—
Would I have hated people?
No.
The me I am now likes being treated that way.
And a sinner like me has no right to hate anyone in the first place.
It was only the treatment a villainess deserved.
Still…
There was one person I resented.
That bastard Isaac Bennet.
He knew everything…
He could have stopped it…
Haa. Whatever.
I cut off the pointless spiral of thoughts and started walking toward my next class.
I need to be more careful.
I'd thought I'd adapt quickly since I was used to using only one eye.
But of course it was still inconvenient — it wasn't the eye I normally used.
The academy corridors were as crowded as ever. Students moved in twos and threes, laughing as they went. I, on the other hand, was alone.
When I first arrived in this world, I'd thought about befriending the characters from the game…
But I wasn't lonely anymore.
I had my master. I had my senior.
At the very least, this wasn't a life lived without meaning, the way my previous one had been.
The feeling of existing for someone — and for something.