Coloring (18)
Coloring (18)
Levina cut through a dark alley and stopped at the back of a building.
A door groaned open, releasing a stale blend of oil and dust.
Still gripping my wrist, she pulled me inside.
Her breath was ragged from running through the alleys.
She didn't slow down.
We climbed the stairs and stopped in front of a door on the third floor.
She drew a key from her pocket and unlocked it.
The room was shockingly spacious and well-appointed.
Plush carpet covered the floor, and paintings that looked expensive even to an untrained eye hung on the walls.
One entire wall was consumed by a bookshelf crammed tight with volumes.
A large wooden desk sat at the center, flanked by a long velvet sofa.
A faint trace of lavender mingled with the scent of old paper.
"You'll stay here for a while."
Levina released my wrist.
She pointed to a door in the corner.
"Bedroom and washroom are through there.
You'll find most of what you need.
Clothes—figure out the laundry yourself."
She shrugged off her robe and tossed it carelessly onto the sofa.
The gesture was uncharacteristically disheveled.
"And don't get any ideas about slipping out the side if Estelle shows up again.
Forget the Academy too. I'll handle all of that.
I'll give you one of the family annexes I mentioned before.
At least on direct family land, even the Order's relics can't touch you."
Her words came too fast—so fast I doubted even Levina could follow them.
Instead of answering, I let my eyes wander the room.
Above the fireplace hung a small shield engraved with the Edelgard crest.
What was I supposed to say to any of this?
It was true that Levina had helped me.
What she said might even be right.
It almost certainly was.
I was grasping for anything useful when the familiar message window surfaced.
[Collect the Endings. 2/?]
[Reward: Return to the Original World, ??]
A hollow laugh escaped. I sighed, dragged myself to the sofa, and collapsed into it.
As if that damn thing ever helped.
I wasn't the shining protagonist.
I hadn't been born a commoner who clawed up from nothing, someone who could prove himself through raw skill. Regrettably, I lacked that sort of ability.
Because I'd ended up as Ravin.
His thoughts, his memories, his emotions—I'd inherited all of them.
On the one hand, it meant I hadn't stumbled into this world like a savage who couldn't string two words together, but what I'd lost in exchange felt grotesquely disproportionate.
Worse than the self-pitying thoughts circling my skull was the crushing knowledge that no matter what I thought, what I did, what I said—things never turned around.
"I'll bring dinner. Don't go anywhere. Wait here."
"...Thanks, noona."
"...Huh?"
"I said thanks."
"No, before that—"
I had no desire to call Levina "noona."
I wanted to grant her nothing at all.
But I'd accepted her help. I didn't want to be the sort of vile creature who took it and shut his mouth.
"You heard me. Noona."
"..."
Levina stared at me blankly, then left the room.
I sat on the sofa, staring vacantly at the shield above the fireplace.
Where was Estelle right now?
I missed her.
Levina returned not long after.
She carried a tray with warm stew and bread.
She set it down on the living-room table.
The savory scent of the bread and the warm aroma of the stew filled the room.
"Eat," she said.
We began our meal in silence.
The stew was good, the bread soft.
I tasted none of it.
"How did you know where to find me?"
"My position makes it impossible not to know when something happens."
"Right. Your position."
At that, Levina glanced at the shield bearing the Edelgard crest and lowered her head.
We carried on eating without a word until she spoke again.
"Right now, you're the most notorious piece of shit alive.
Kicked out of the family, engagement broken, cozying up to heretics and butchering innocent priests."
I tore off a piece of bread and nodded slowly.
"When Estelle comes back, don't bother trying to explain yourself.
The truth doesn't matter anymore.
The Order has spoken. They intend to kill you."
"So I'm supposed to bury myself in that annex for the rest of my life?"
"..."
Levina didn't answer.
That night, I fell asleep on the sofa. Levina took the bedroom.
The next morning, she rose early and went to the Academy, returning only at dusk.
"You're back."
"...Yeah."
Her reply was curt. She prepared dinner without another word.
An excruciatingly awkward silence hung between us.
The meal was more or less the same as the night before—stew and reasonably soft bread.
Midway through tearing off a piece, the door slammed open.
It shook as if a bomb had gone off, threatening to tear the hinges from the frame.
The sound made me swallow my bread whole.
Three figures stood in the doorway.
A face stiff with resolve.
An expression twisted with grief.
And a face faintly frightened but radiating fury.
Kyle. Serepina. And the female knight who'd spotted me at the Perion estate.
Levina shot to her feet, horrified.
All color drained from her face.
She snatched the fruit knife from the table on instinct.
Her lips moved fast—she was about to incant something.
They were faster.
The knight lunged like a thunderbolt, wrenched the wrist holding the knife, and slammed Levina to the floor.
A heavy crash! accompanied by a sharp cry.
Levina lay pinned, emitting only a thin moan.
The suppression was over in an instant.
I watched it all, bread still in hand.
I didn't care whether Levina was sprawled on the floor.
She wasn't going to die anyway.
She was the esteemed Heir Apparent of House Edelgard.
The knight was the one with a problem.
I stuffed the rest of the bread into my mouth and chewed slowly.
All three of them turned to look at me.
"Are you serious, Serepina?"
"... "
"So this is it.
The real reason you wanted to break off the engagement was so you could screw around with that lowborn friend of yours."
"No! That's not—absolutely not."
"Then why come together?"
"...Because you might be in danger."
"What danger?"
"Kyle was going to..."
"I don't care. And spare me the excuses, Serepina.
Whatever you say, I'm not in a position to believe you."
I held their stares and swallowed the last bite of bread.
"Sera, enough talking. Look at him."
"Stay there and shut your mouth.
We're eating. Or didn't your commoner upbringing cover table manners?"
Kyle's face twisted with rage.
He glared at me, nearly snarling.
"Sera. That son of a bitch—binding magic first—"
Sera. Fucking Sera.
Not Sera. Serepina.
The first thing I registered was that I didn't want him to shorten her name.
I rose from my seat.
My hand found the revolver I always kept at my waist.
The chill of the metal was familiar against my palm.
I pulled the trigger at Kyle without a flicker of hesitation.
Four gunshots tore through the room.
The stench of gunpowder stung my nose.
It didn't matter.
A faint barrier shimmered around him, deflecting the bullets so they merely grazed his shoulder and arm.
I stared at it, numb.
"Ha. Right. That's how it always goes."
I thought about hurling the revolver aside, but couldn't bring myself to do it.
Right now, that revolver felt precious.
"This fucked-up world. Why can't I do that?"
Serepina was holding Kyle back, his sword hand already clenched tight.
She had to know it wouldn't make a difference.
She'd always moved after the disaster—hadn't changed a bit since we were children.
A hollow laugh escaped me.
Tears slipped from my eyes.
Collect the Endings.
I pressed the revolver's muzzle to my temple.
The cold metal felt almost comforting.
I tightened my finger on the trigger.
The only sound that reached me was a wet, ragged severing—something tearing free and falling.
It hit the floor with a heavy thud.
I looked at my wrist. Blood fountained out in red pulses.
I stared blankly, shifting my gaze from the spurting stump to my hand lying on the floor.
No pain yet.
Give it a few seconds. It was going to hurt like hell.
I turned my head. Serepina was standing there.
Faint residue of mana flickered at her fingertips.
She looked at her hand, then at my hand on the floor, her face bloodless.
"Ah... ah..."
Meaningless sounds leaked from Serepina's lips.
She swayed dizzily and stumbled toward me.
She picked up my severed hand from the floor.
She pressed it against my bleeding wrist, trying to fit it back into place.
"It hurts—Serepina—fuck, it hurts, stop—!"
I tried to push her away. My body wouldn't obey.
Deaf to my voice, she kept staring blankly into the air, attempting to reattach a hand that would never reattach.
Of course it wouldn't stick.
The blood kept pouring, drenching her dress and my shirt in red.
She was crying.
Muttering that something was wrong. Tears splashing down.