Things That Cannot Be Reversed (3)
Even so, the things that cannot be undone. My heated breath scatters into the evening air. The breath that meets the slightly chilly wind turns pure white before fading into transparency.
‘What… am I doing right now……’
I ask myself the question. In the shadow of a pitch-black alley reeking of filth and mold—where no light reaches even though the sun has not yet fully set—I spread my legs in the most vulgar way and touch myself with pitiful, desperate fingers. I could not pretend not to know what I was doing.
How did it come to this?
“Nngh… hup……”
Unable to endure the tingling waves of pleasure racing through my body, my throat spills a heated moan between my lips. Fearing that passersby on the evening street might hear, I hurriedly cover my mouth with my left hand.
“Mmph…… hup, hngh…… hup, hup……”
Even with my mouth sealed, the lewd nasal sounds still escape. My fingers—moving as though beyond my control—rub my clitoris with frantic urgency, then delve inside to torment the soft, sensitive walls of my vagina.
The wet, obscene squelching echoes like sighs through the soft folds. Love juices overflow from my burning core and mix with the filthy mud on the alley floor.
“Uung… hngh…!!!”
When climax finally crashes over me, my entire body stiffens and my hips jerk upward.
“Haa… haaa……”
Only after the first orgasm cools my overheated body do I regain enough presence of mind to look at myself.
‘Mother… Looking for Mother… is……’
Even as the thought forms, my right hand continues to stroke the thin, soft lips below, reluctant to let them close, as though still unsatisfied.
‘It was just an excuse…… What I… really wanted……’
“Hngh!!”
My left hand has already slipped beneath the robe, crawling like a spider over the dress hidden underneath—the plain clothes once worn by one of Mittenburg’s maids. It traces my ribs, my sides, my breasts, my nipples—every place that can feel pleasure.
Yes. The real reason I risked everything to return to the capital, to the place I lived as a child, was to see the truth with my own eyes. That I could never find Mother. That even if I did, it would change nothing. That the happy family I once knew had vanished completely.
And I wanted to feel it—that I had fallen into an abyss from which there was no escape.
The moment the thought surfaces, another climax surges through me.
“Uht… hngh…… ah, haa, ang, haat…… Huuuuht?!”
Blue flames seem to race from my toes to the crown of my head. I could not escape this happy, self-destructive pleasure. I never would.
I watched the last, foolish hope I had clung to crumble into dust. In the end, I never found Mother.
I should have been sobbing, drowning in tears until I could no longer breathe. Instead, the only moisture that falls from my eyes are tears of ecstasy—sweet, shameful tears wrung out by pleasure alone.
‘Yes… I came here… to be completely broken.’
I had traveled all this way to shatter myself. To feel the despair of having fallen into a mire with no lower place left to sink, and to turn that despair into filthy pleasure. While keeping only the promise I made to the heroes—the promise not to die—I would become the kind of trash no one would ever look at again.
“Ahahaha……”
A broken laugh slips from my lips. What kind of expression am I wearing right now? Do I even look human anymore?
It is a pity there is no mirror. If I could see my own face, perhaps I could fall even deeper.
“Haa……”
A weary sigh escapes me, tangled with both self-loathing and twisted happiness. I try to stand. I have to stand. The pleasure of sinking to the bottom feels good, but I cannot stay here long.
My body refuses. My legs, hips, and torso—still trembling from the aftershocks—have no strength left. I push my boots uselessly against the filthy ground, but nothing moves.
I need to rest until the haze clears. But…
‘No, I have to get up… Before the wanted posters go out, I have to leave… No. Today was still safe, so maybe… just a few more times……’
With my will already cracked, I surrender to base desire. Just once more. No—twice. No—three times would still be fine……
“Ungh, uht……”
My fingers are honest. Before any hesitation can form, they find the weakest spot and torment it. My left hand crudely spreads the folds that should stay closed while my right hand rubs my clitoris without mercy.
The underwear I pushed aside is soaked with mud and love juices. Unknown filth clings to every secret place. Still, I cannot stop.
“Ah…… haeu… uht…… Uht… hngh, a, at……”
I no longer try to hide my voice. When a shred of sanity returns and I realize what I am doing, the shame only fans the flames higher.
“Haaang…… u, hngh… Hhet?! A, haaaat!!”
Another climax—how many now?—rips through me. A vulgar, shameless cry bursts from my open mouth, loud enough that anyone passing the alley would have heard it. With a soft trickling sound, warm liquid spurts between my legs. The yellow stream meets the cold night air and immediately begins to steam.
‘Even now……’
Even while abandoning every last shred of humanity, the ridiculous thought crosses my mind: ‘It smells like beer……’ Does the scent of bread turn into the smell of beer? Whoever manages the relay station has truly terrible taste.
“Hak, haat… hu, aaa……”
As the pleasure ebbs, I catch my breath. I cannot stop here. I need to become even filthier. So—
‘Just once more……’
“Is someone there?”
A beam of light stretches from the mouth of the alley, illuminating the darkness. A night watchman?
“Eu… e……?”
I have been caught. They must have heard everything—the wet, obscene sounds I made while shamelessly touching myself. There is no way they missed it. I never covered my mouth. I never tried to stay quiet.
If it is a guard or vigilante who patrols this area, they would know my face. The baker’s daughter Kaira. Childhood friend Kaira. The wizard Kaira. The hero Kaira. By any name, they would recognize me.
I am finished.
Whether I am bound and dragged to the gallows or blackmailed into becoming someone’s filthy personal plaything, my life is over.
‘Ah… With this, everything ends. I like it… so much……’
Even as terror grips me—social ruin, biological ruin—my lower body twists that fear into ecstasy and spills more filthy juices.
“Ehehe……”
While broken laughter leaks from my lips, the light draws closer. It is a portable lantern containing a magical spark.
There is no point running now. I give up, letting my face go blank as I stare at the approaching light.
The lantern’s owner steps deep into the narrow alley, looks down at me for a long moment, then speaks in a hesitant voice.
“Could it be… Kaira……?”
Of course. There was no helping it. They had no choice but to recognize me. I weakly lift my head to see the face illuminated by the flickering flame.
“Ah… Arun……?”
The leatherworker’s son. Arun. One of the childhood friends I used to play adventurers with in the forest outside the city, the ones who used to pester the real adventurers in front of the guild together.
His once-round chin has grown firm and masculine. A little stubble darkens his jaw. His voice carries none of its childhood softness. Yet I recognize him instantly. Even his roughly cut, rustic black hair is the same.
“K-Kaira… What are you… doing here……?”
Yes. Of course he would not understand.
The girl he grew up with. The friend who must have felt proud when she became a hero. The woman he must have worried over when she disappeared. He could never understand why she is now sprawled in a filthy nighttime alley, vulgarly touching herself.
I slowly withdraw the fingers still buried inside my clenching heat. From the pink folds—now demurely closed, though they had been making obscene sounds only moments ago—a white, sticky thread stretches between my fingers and my crotch.
“Arun……”
With a pitiful smile, I part my legs wider, angling myself so the swaying lantern light can clearly illuminate the filthy state of my pussy.
Like a worn-out prostitute, I seduce my precious childhood friend.
“…Want to do it with me……? Ehehe……”
Because I wanted to fall even further.
Because I had to.