Escape (1)
Escape (1)
It felt like my lungs were shriveling.
Eyes open or closed, I saw only one thing.
Red.
The flames weren't especially large or bright, but they were more than enough to swallow one body whole. Mine.
The sensation of skin melting was still vivid.
That vile stench of burning flesh and hair lifting into the air, filling my nostrils.
Not much time had passed since the moment I couldn't even scream. My body was intact.
I wasn't on fire.
It still felt like I was.
Right now, I wasn't in pain—not physically.
But something hurt.
Something definitely hurt.
Cold sweat traced the length of my spine, soaking through my shirt.
I was hyperventilating, shoulders heaving.
There wasn't a single spark in this room, but my skin still burned.
[Collect the Endings. 3/?]
[Currently Collected Rewards: Lingering Fragrance]
[Rewards: Return to the Original World, ??]
The pale blue letters floating before my eyes flickered faintly.
I could see the message had changed somehow, but my head couldn't absorb the information.
I swatted at the air and stumbled upright.
I needed something to lean on.
By instinct, I groped inside my jacket and pulled out a cigarette and a matchbox.
With practiced fingers, I put a cigarette between my lips.
That's where it stopped.
I opened the matchbox, took out a match, and struck it.
The scratch against the friction strip came, and my hand froze.
Sssst.
My body locked up, rigid as stone.
A tiny orange flame blossomed on the match head. It ate into the wood, grazed the tip of my finger, left a small burn mark, and went out.
My hand shook around the match as if in spasm.
I dropped the burnt-out matchstick to the floor, limp.
The cigarette stayed in my mouth. I didn't light it.
A strange unease drove me to the drawer. I took out the revolver.
Slowly, I loaded the bullets one by one and tucked it into my waistband.
Only then did the anxiety settle—barely.
If only it weren't for Serepina.
If only I hadn't loved Serepina.
If only I hadn't walked around with Estelle.
If only I hadn't felt drawn to Estelle.
If only I'd listened to Levina.
No. If only there'd been room to listen to Levina in the first place.
If only Serepina had accepted me.
If only Serepina hadn't thrown me away.
If only Estelle hadn't left my side.
If only Estelle had stayed beside me.
Thoughts came in fragments, nothing cohering into a clear line.
[Collect the Endings. 3/?]
[Currently Collected Rewards: Lingering Fragrance]
[Rewards: Return to the Original World, ??]
"...I don't want to die."
I stood still for a moment, then paced the room with no direction.
Six steps left. Eight steps right.
No particular reason.
A faint light seeped through the gap in the curtains.
Morning, apparently.
I hated the light.
I drew the curtains shut. The heavy fabric blocked it out completely.
Then I sat on the edge of the bed and stayed there.
Sweat still ran down my body like water. The cling of the shirt against my skin was sickening.
That was when I noticed the familiar envelope on the table.
High-quality parchment I'd chosen myself, carrying a faint fragrance.
The same lilac motif Serepina once said she liked—small, pressed into the bottom right corner of the envelope.
A letter. Right.
Serepina had burned the letter. Right in front of me. The letter I wrote.
Said everything I gave her disgusted her.
Serepina had burned me to death. Came for me with Kyle, that goddamn bastard, and...
What had I been thinking the last time I came back?
I had tried begging at her feet like a dog. Pleading for her to love me, not to abandon me.
Something along those lines. She threw me away anyway.
I rose again and wandered the room for what felt like ages, aimless as a stray mutt, then sat on the sofa and scrubbed my face with dry hands.
The feeling wouldn't leave my body.
Creeeak.
The familiar sound of the door opening. The unpleasant whine of old hinges.
"You really did quit smoking, huh. Anyway, you called me here, so why are you—Ravin?"
A voice came from behind me.
Serepina.
She carried the faint scent of lilac, as she always did.
"Ravin, are you okay?"
She approached, asking. Concern laced her voice. The voice I'd always heard, yet something about it felt different.
"Ah. Yeah. I'm fine. Just not feeling well."
I forced myself to sound normal. My voice didn't cooperate.
She looked around the room. Her characteristic footsteps echoed across the floor.
Her gaze lingered on the empty wall where something had once hung.
A landscape painting used to be there. She'd tossed it at me once, calling it a birthday gift.
Now only the nail marks remained, scars on the wall.
"You said to meet today. Ravin."
I didn't answer.
She perched on the edge of my bed and looked at me.
Neither of us spoke for a while. Silence filled the room. It wasn't especially awkward.
Then Serepina suddenly moved toward me. Her eyes were glazed—entranced, or maybe drugged.
She stopped right in front of me, reached a trembling hand out, and wrapped it around my neck.
I flinched.
Cold fingers brushed the nape of my neck. Goosebumps rose.
Serepina's touch felt repulsive.
For the first time. The first time since I'd come to this place.
She stared at me with those vacant, spellbound eyes. Then, slowly, she began to touch my neck, my shoulders, my arms—as if checking for something.
When her fingers reached my forearm, I caught her hand.
I pried it away, gently.
Serepina gazed at me blankly for a long moment, then flinched as if startled.
She muttered under her breath, barely audible.
"...Ah."
She looked down at her own hand, then back at me. Her eyes were wavering.
"Just now... you said you were unwell, and I thought I saw something strange. I'm sorry."
Serepina backed away and sank onto the sofa.
Silence returned to the room. This time, it wasn't the familiar kind. It was suffocating.
Serepina looked at the envelope on the table and spoke quietly.
"A letter. You wrote another one."
"I did."
"Can I read it?"
I didn't answer.
She seemed to take my silence as permission and began opening the envelope. The rustle of paper sounded startlingly loud.
Before she could pull the letter out, I snatched the envelope from her hand.
Serepina's fingers fumbled at empty air.
Without a word, I folded the letter neatly and tucked it back inside.
"You..."
She finally managed to speak. Her voice was faint, as if submerged in water.
"Don't bring up the annulment."
"...Where did you hear about that?"
"Obvious. It's the only thing you'd want to talk about."
"Then why are you acting like nothing's wrong?"
"If I got on my knees and begged right now, would you take me back?"
"Nothing about you ever changes. Not a single thing. And yet you, Ravin, you..."
I rose from my seat and walked up to her. I grabbed Serepina's shoulders and leaned in close.
Her pupils reflected my face.
"Don't call me Ravin."
"Ah. Should I call you Edelgard, the degenerate Young Master, then?"
"Whatever you want. That's all I've ever been to you."
"Not just to me. To everyone..."
"That donation to the orphanage, the attempt to sponsor poor kids—all that money I spent trying to fix my reputation. You remember that? Nobody believed me. Every single thing got rewritten as something you pushed me into doing.
And you didn't believe me either. Says it all, really."
"That's... I'm sorry about that."
Serepina bit her lower lip, a gesture I'd seen countless times, and looked up at me.
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't cry.
The conversation died again. Only Serepina's ragged breathing filled the room.
"Being next to you just makes me feel wretched.
Whatever I do, it feels like who I am has already been decided."
"Everything you've done so far..."
"What exactly have I done! Did I fuck up badly enough to get burned alive?!"
"Wh-what are you—urp, ulp..."
Serepina's eyes went wide.
She was looking at me, but her focus had gone blurry, fixed on something else entirely.
She clapped a hand over her mouth and gagged.
Startled, I released her shoulders. She pressed a handkerchief to her lips, still dry-heaving.
By some small mercy, nothing soiled the floor.
I wanted a smoke.
Except I'd become the kind of wreck who couldn't even light a match anymore.
My head was a mess.
"You say I never change. That I'm always the same.
But you're the one who hasn't changed.
You've never once thought about how you grew up. Yeah, fine. That's just who you are, Serepina.
Not that I was ever in a position to say a word to Levina."
"...So you're saying this is all because I never—urp—properly helped you? From childhood?"
"No. It's because you don't trust me. That's what did it.
You wouldn't trust me even if I died.
We were never friends, let alone engaged.
Because we can't trust each other."
I pulled out the envelope I'd put away and tore it in half.
Scraps of lilac-scented paper scattered across the floor.
"Or what, Serepina? I'll do whatever you say.
Tell me to die right now and I'll die.
Tell me to change and I'll change.
If I said let's run away together, just the two of us—would you do it?"
Serepina's chin dipped, a half-nod that never completed. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
I knew she was someone who would crumble if I kept pushing. But I didn't want to push.
"Being with you is agony."
I stood.
Walked out of the room without a word. I didn't even shut the door.
I didn't want to see her.