I Wish You'd Died

"Why do you keep twisting something so simple? I like you, so I said I like you. I love you, so I said I love you. That's all."

Diana's words. Hansung couldn't take them at face value. More precisely, he was certain she was toying with him.

The past had played no small part in bringing him to that conclusion.

From the moment they first met, the three of them had hidden who they were. They had introduced themselves to Hansung as ordinary city citizens — but in truth, all three were nobles. In this society, a slum-born mixing with the aristocracy was all but taboo. The mere fact of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠such contact could make you a subject of investigation.

Whenever a crime broke out, the press howled about the slums as a breeding ground for every kind of evil. There was no way those noble girls hadn't known that. And still, they had told Hansung nothing.

That they were nobles wasn't the problem. That they had hidden it was. A relationship in which one side had been deceiving the other from the very start — could an encounter like that even be called genuine?

There had been times they'd shared the lunches the girls brought along.

At the time, he had taken it for kindness. Whenever Hansung marveled at some food he had never tasted, they smiled as if they were enjoying themselves. Back then, he hadn't thought of those smiles as mockery.

But once he knew their true identities, it all looked different. Had they been watching him the way you'd toss feed to a beast in a zoo and wait to see how it reacted?

It might have been an overthought. There was no physical evidence — nothing but his own suspicions. And yet the way Diana had treated him just now fanned those doubts into flame. She had lorded it over him, telling him he ought to be grateful for her one-sided affection. If she had truly seen him as an equal human being, could she have said something like that?

Hansung clenched his teeth. He had believed they were good people, knowing nothing. And so, when crisis struck, he had staked even his own life to save them first.

Looking back, it was almost funny. A slum-born with nothing to his name but his own life, throwing himself forward to save noble young ladies who had never wanted for a thing in theirs.

Then a far more terrible thought brushed through his mind.

What if even the amnesia was a lie.

The light in Hansung's eyes slowly went still. Because it was fun to put him in a bind. Because they wanted to watch a slum-born scramble and claw for his life. Was that why they had picked him as a convenient scapegoat?

...Calm down.

There was no evidence of any kind. But once suspicion had taken root, it would not easily fade.

After the incident, the three women had been praised as generous nobles. Despite a crime committed against three daughters of noble houses, the sentence had been a mere ten years. The press had been busy crowing that the girls had shown more mercy to a slum-born who would one day return to society than they had any desire for revenge.

In Hansung's eyes, they hadn't lost a thing from the whole affair. It had been reported as attempted rape, so they could even dodge any suspicion that their chastity — potentially the most fatal thing of all — had been threatened. They had been portrayed as nothing but one-sided victims.

And him? He had lost money, time, even his dreams. And now she said she loved him?

Are they trying to pull the same stunt again.

This time, maybe they were dangling love as bait, just to watch how ridiculously he would react.

If that's really the case...

This time, he had no intention of simply taking it. Even if it meant throwing away the rest of his life, he would not let any of the three of them walk away unscathed.

Still, it was only speculation for now. Hansung forced down the fury threatening to surge up through his chest. He had plenty of time. If anything, time was all he had left. If something was suspicious, he could confirm it one piece at a time.

Diana, knowing nothing of what was going on inside him, looked at him with a puzzled face.

"Why are you making such a terribly unpleasant expression?"

"Because I just had a really fucked-up thought."

"I just confessed that I love you. How can you say something like that?"

Diana looked genuinely unable to understand.

"You know perfectly well what kind of woman I am, Hansung. Diana von Rosenthal. A woman whose name everyone in this city would recognize."

"So what."

"So what?"

Diana's eyes went wide.

"And that woman is telling you, right now, that she loves you. You, Hansung — who has nothing, who amounts to nothing!"

Hansung's eyes flashed cold.

"You talk like you're bestowing some great mercy."

"Mercy?"

Diana thought for a moment, then answered with perfect composure.

"...Is that wrong? I know exactly what kind of person you are, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'm still saying I love you. Isn't that close enough to mercy?"

Then, as if there were nothing strange about it at all, she added:

"So you should be glad. You should be happy."

Hansung couldn't tell what Diana felt as she prattled on about loving him. But one thing was clear. She did not see him as an equal.

"Nobles like you don't see slum-born like me as the same kind of person."

"I... beg your pardon?"

"Let me make this clear. I'm not your toy. And I have no intention of becoming one."

Hansung roughly yanked his captured arm free and shoved her away.

"Ah..."

Diana stumbled back several steps and lowered her head. Her shoulders trembled — whether from anger at being treated this way, he couldn't tell. Hansung wasn't afraid. If she started screaming and throwing a fit at him, maybe her interest would cool that much faster and she'd go find herself another toy.

But when Diana lifted her head again, it was a smile she was wearing.

"You dared to push me...? What would you have done if I'd slipped on the wet road and gotten hurt."

Her words sounded like this: someone like you has no right to lay a hand on me. How arrogant. How insufferably proud.

"Diana."

"Yes?"

"You told me to say if there was something I wanted."

"Have you finally thought of something you want?"

"Last warning. Don't ever show your face in front of me again. I don't want anything more to do with you."

"I can't do that. There's so little you can do on your own right now, isn't there? You need my help, don't you?"

"I don't need it."

"Please don't be stubborn. I'll take responsibility for your life and save you."

Hansung despised a woman like Diana — so utterly one-sided. Just thinking about it made him sick. How could a human being be this insufferable.

Maybe that was why. He hadn't said it with any particular intent. A thought that had merely brushed through his mind slipped out of his mouth, unbidden.

"Hansung? You must be having a very hard time. Thoughts like that aren't good for you."

"You're misunderstanding something..."

Hansung looked at her with an expressionless face.

"The ones I wish had died aren't me. It's you. All of you."

At that answer, Diana's face began to freeze.

"Han...sung...?"

"It's a bit late to be saying this, but even though I've regretted saving you countless times, I never thought the choice itself was wrong."

Hansung knew there was a contradiction in his own words. He had tried to save them and been framed for it, and because of that he had lost everything. And yet he still thought that choice hadn't been wrong. It was as good as admitting he was a complete idiot.

Even so, that one thing he didn't want to deny to the end. He didn't think reaching out a hand to someone in danger was itself a wrong thing to do.

"But now I've changed my mind."

"......"

"Why did I even save you."

Diana's face went rigid.

"I should've just left you to die."

"...Hansung?"

"If you'd died that day, everything would've ended cleanly."

"What......"

It was a face that had never imagined those words would come out of his mouth. Once the thought had leaked out, it would not stop. He hadn't even started talking in order to hurt her. It was simply that everything that had piled up in a corner of his chest for so long came pouring out on its own, as if a dam that had been holding it back had finally burst.

"I wouldn't have been framed. I wouldn't have gone to prison."

The voice was so calm it surprised even him. He wasn't angry. He wasn't clenching his teeth and pouring out curses. He was simply going back over something already past, laying out the facts one by one.

"Stop... please..."

The color drained ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from Diana's face.

"Why...... why would you say something like that?"

The trembling voice was already close to a plea. The composure that had been there just moments ago, the confident smile — not a trace of either remained.

"I've regretted saving you countless times. But I never regretted that you survived."

What Hansung had regretted was throwing himself into it — the act itself. He had stuck his neck out for nothing. He could have just pretended not to see. Then he wouldn't have been framed, and his life wouldn't have ended up like this.

Even as he had cursed that day countless times, Hansung had never been able to cross a single line. He hadn't been able to bring himself to wish for an ending in which they should have died that day. But the words Diana had poured out had shaken even that thought of his, and in the end made him cross the line he had never been able to cross.

"Now I've changed my mind. It would've been better if you'd just died then."

"Stop it......"

Diana's voice had grown so small it was nearly swallowed by the rain. Maybe Hansung hadn't even heard it. Even so, he did not stop.

"I wish you'd died."

"P-please stop."

"I should've just let you die."

"Stop......"

"I saved you for nothing."

"I don't want this......"

The strength left Diana's knees.

Thud.

She sank to the ground where she stood.

When she came to, Diana was sitting on the ground. And she realized, belatedly, that she was crying.

How long had she been crying? It felt as though she might have dozed off for a moment. No — had she really fallen asleep? Her consciousness had definitely been there. She remembered every word of the conversation with Hansung. She could recall, one by one, what she had said, and how he had answered.

It was a strange feeling. The memories were clearly her own, and yet the person who had spoken those words felt alien, as if it hadn't been her at all. As if someone else had borrowed her mouth and body and prattled on as they pleased. All the while, she had only watched from a distance, as if half-asleep.

Now that foreign sensation had vanished as if it had never been. But what mattered wasn't what she was thinking now. What mattered was that she had wounded Hansung all over again.

Rainwater traced a pitiful path down her cheeks. Her vision, welling with tears, blurred and smeared until the whole world ran together. Beyond that haze, she could see Hansung looking at her.

"Hansung..."

Just speaking that one word made her chest throb. Only now did she truly grasp what she had said to him.

You, Hansung — who has nothing, who amounts to nothing.

Remembering that line, her breath caught in her throat.

My love, to you, is mercy.

Every time she recalled the arrogant, high-handed things she had said, her heart clenched as if it were being wrung.

I'll take responsibility for your life and save you.

Why had she said something like that.

"Ah......"

Belated regret slipped from her lips. Everything had gone to ruin.

Today... I only... came to apologize. How did it all get so twisted?

She hadn't had the slightest intention of shamelessly receiving his forgiveness. She had regretted to the bone how terrible a thing she had done.

So I wouldn't have minded if he cursed me... even if he hit me... so why...

Even if Hansung hated her for the rest of his life, she had been prepared to accept that fact humbly, without a shred of resentment.

I... I — what have I done.

She should have been groveling, begging — and instead she had flaunted her noble status in front ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of him. She had looked down on him. Ignored him. Even gone so far as to call her own love mercy. Every single word. She had venomously spat out only the things he would least want to hear.

And as a result, she had heard from that person the words she had never wanted to hear.

Was it the shock? Something inside her had vanished, and Diana had been able to return from that hazy world to reality. But it was too late. Far, far too late.

"Hansung......"

Diana lifted her head. He was right in front of her. And yet he felt strangely distant. A distance she could close just by reaching out her hand — and yet it felt so far she would never be able to reach him again.

Letting him go here might be the decent thing to do. Clinging to someone who had already said no, holding them against their will, was violence of another kind. Even so—

I don't want to.

A small desire stirred in Diana's heart.

I don't want to be apart. I want to stay by his side!

And so, no matter how many times she was refused, she had to receive his forgiveness. She barely managed to part her trembling lips.

"I...... was wrong."

The voice couldn't come out properly.

"What I said just now...... I didn't mean it that way. I didn't want to say those things.... I only wanted to apologize to you."

She stretched a trembling arm toward him. Even the raindrops pouring down felt heavy now, each one of them. Still, she did not let her arm fall. She held it out straight toward him, hoping he would catch her and pull her up, the way he used to.

Hansung said nothing.

And he turned his back.

That alone was meaning enough. It was a more certain answer than any refusal.

The rain hissed down in sheets. Hansung's receding figure gradually vanished into the downpour. Diana's pupils trembled.