Loss Floats a Small Boat on the River of Tears
Loss floats a small boat upon the river of tears. Even so, the hesitation in my heart had not been erased. It still lived and breathed, lingering deep within me, sowing discord among my own choices. Yet it was no longer the same as before—no longer the voice that doubted my own weakness and screamed that reaching my ideals was impossible. Instead, it kept asking, over and over: Do you truly believe someone like you deserves to be happy?
The closer I grew to Tia, the more the wounds she had left on me healed into scars, and the more she cherished me—so much that even those scars began to fade—the more I found myself swallowing hatred, anger, and fear, and beginning to feel happiness instead. It had truly begun only recently. Just the other day, when she whispered that she would protect me no matter what happened. I, who had always been the one protecting others, felt the unfamiliar sensation of being protected. Though it was strange, I could easily tell that it was a happy kind of strangeness. From that moment on, being with Tia no longer felt entirely unpleasant. So I began to cherish the little sprout of happiness blooming in my chest.
That was why. I, who had left everything behind in the past, had still accomplished nothing. I had done nothing at all. How could I possibly deserve happiness? Everyone had sacrificed themselves for me. In the end we were defeated, but they had followed me without a single doubt, and they had all been sacrificed. Could I really cast aside my worries and be happy like this?
I knew the answer. Just like the words I had once shouted at Kibotos in a trance, the one left behind had to remember them. That was why I had to become even happier—so that by remembering them joyfully, they too could be happy. Because I was the only one left, I had to desperately chase joy. But I was still human. Even though I had said those words, I myself had never experienced something like this before. I had been betrayed by the comrade I trusted most, abandoned my family, and by chance obtained new hope in the form of truly precious companions. All I had done was fight against a great evil to protect that hope. Yet after enduring such hardships, I was still nothing more than a novice who could not even claim to know myself well. In the end, I had been defeated. That was the truth. I had failed while leading such wonderful people. So of course, it was my responsibility.
So then… could I really allow myself to be happy again like this?
Today, too, I asked the sky. The sky that could not be seen, hidden behind the thick ceiling. Of course, no answer came. But it was not as though I had nothing to take its place.
Swish—
What was far more precious than any answer had always been inside my chest. My heart, beating just as fiercely as those moments that could never return, was still alive and pulsing. So do not give up, Belberman. Do not stop, Karia. Just as desperately as I must become happy for their sake, I must also seize my ideals—our ideals—with absolute certainty. No matter what happens. Even if… even if it means wearing myself down to nothing.
“……”
That morning, when I opened my eyes in bed, I was alone. Quite some time had passed since the incident with Cartoria, so I lay there for a moment, reflecting on the days gone by, before finally sitting up and rubbing my sleepy eyes.
Ah, right. Thinking about Cartoria reminded me—after everything that had happened between us, we had ultimately decided to pretend none of it had ever occurred. Through the conversations we continued to have afterward, Cartoria and I had reached the conclusion that we would simply go on as if nothing had happened. I had no desire to cause a big scene over a dream, and Cartoria was not a bad person. If anything, she was a good one. So, since things had turned out this way, I wanted every ending to be a good one. Half out of helplessness, I had made that choice.
Of course, we still occasionally had extremely secret tea times together, but… that was really nothing more than enjoying the delicious tea she kept in her private room. Unlike what I had seen in the dream, we were getting along quite wholesomely. Aside from the matter with Cartoria, Tia had also been growing busier lately and had begun reducing the time we spent together. While reflecting on all of this, I absentmindedly rose from bed and, in a voice still thick with sleep, called out to the one who was always by my side.
“Jemma, did you sleep well…?”
“Hop hop, it is Jemma.”
As expected, she did not betray my trust. She appeared before me like a rabbit, greeting me with her usual expressionless face. “Master appeared in my dream, so I was able to have a very refreshing night.”
I gave her a satisfied smile and pushed the blanket aside, moving to enjoy the breakfast Jemma had prepared. Stretching vigorously, I asked in a casual tone, “Hnnngh…! Ah, what’s for breakfast today?”
“Today’s meal is the special course designated by the Demon King.”
Jemma answered politely, then added, “For example, I. Am. A. Special. Dish. ❤”
“……”
With that same mischievous, unreadable expression, she spread both hands wide and made grasping motions, just like always. In the end, I could only clutch my spinning head while brushing Jemma’s antics aside and headed to the wardrobe to change out of my pajamas, pulling out a few outfits Tia had gifted me.
“I wonder what the Demon King’s special dish is like…”
“Kek, so you’re not even interested anymore.”
While bantering with Jemma and enjoying the leisurely start to the morning, my eyes fell upon the cute clothes Tia had given me. “……”
Looking at them, I recalled how surprisingly girlish Tia had been during the days we spent together. It had already been over two hundred days since I arrived here—time I had paid no attention to—but Tia had remembered it perfectly. With an extremely shy face, she had presented me with these clothes inside a carefully wrapped gift box. And it was not just for forced anniversaries. Whenever the mood struck her, she would give me gifts without a second thought. The fact that she gave them so often made it all the more endearing how incredibly flustered she became each time. We had already exchanged gifts several times, yet she was always just as shy and delighted. She never sent a servant; whenever she wanted to give something, she delivered it herself. Her face bright red as she handed over the box, saying “thank you,” was truly a lovely sight. That was not her true nature, of course. But if I found it cute, then that was enough.
And Tia was not without an eye for these things. The clothes she gave me fit my body well and suited my face. Even I, who had expected nothing at first, was very satisfied wearing them. Whenever I appeared before Tia in one of her gifts, she would look even more pleased than I was, sticking to my side like a puppy and refusing to leave for a long while. Maybe that was why I kept wearing the clothes she gave me.
Ah, damn it. Why was I no longer reluctant to be with Tia? This was ridiculous. When I first came here, I had sworn I would never lose my resolve to take revenge on the Demon King. Had I finally been conquered after all?
“……”
Even if I thought that, I already knew such things no longer held meaning for me. I knew that burning with revenge was pointless, and that trying to force distance between Tia and myself only deepened my own dark emotions. Finding a way to endure until the time came had always been my role. How I would endure, and how I would use that time—that was for me to decide. So at the very least, until the right moment arrived, I intended to be happy. That way, the precious comrades who had given their lives for me could wait for me with at least a little peace of mind.
A place that stood in stark contrast to Karia—formerly Belberman’s—now peaceful life. A dark inn in the human world, not a single light lit. In one of the rooms heavy with the scent of alcohol, an agitated male and female voice clashed.
“Belberman is dead. No matter what you do, he’s not coming back!”
“How the hell would you know———!!”
The black-haired man and the short-haired woman whose light green eyes faintly glowed argued with voices full of anger. The woman, who had maintained a cold expression, now held back tears as she tried to stop the black-haired man from sinking deeper into his foolish thoughts.
“Belberman is alive! I…! I reached out to him until the very end… I saw him being blown away…!”
The black-haired man stubbornly repeated the memory of that day like a broken record. The woman, still holding back tears, finally spoke in a weary voice to the drunken man.
“Even if he is alive, what can you do…? What can we do…!?”
Even so, her feelings toward Belberman were no different. With a heart too heavy to even beat, she cried out, “At most, only Karman and the two of us survived! We couldn’t even recover the others’ remains!”
The man squeezed his eyes shut. “Jeren……”
He called the short-haired woman’s name—Hero Jeren.
“……I’m going.”
Even though Jeren, the true survivor, had made her decision, she only stared at the man’s exhausted, worn face with a cold expression.
“You’re committing suicide.”
Yet the black-haired man donned a tattered robe like a black cloak, shot Jeren one final sidelong glance, and said, “Without Belberman, whether we commit suicide or keep living, it’s all the same. You know that.”
With a face darker than anyone else’s, he walked out of the inn.
“Don’t go, Yuda!!”
Jeren called the black-haired man Yuda and tried to hold him back until the very end.
“Karman… Karman will never forgive you!!”
As the last confirmed survivors, the only heroes whose survival had been verified were Jeren, Yuda, and Karman. Jeren did not want to create any more sacrifices. As the last remaining heroes, the wounds they carried were already far too deep to go searching for Belberman, whose death had already been all but certain.
“With only one arm left, what the hell do you think you can do……!”
In the blink of an eye, Yuda was gone. Left alone in the inn, Jeren’s legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees.
Thud—
“You damn bastard……!”
With a trembling voice, she could only let the endless tears of loss fall, one drop after another.
Thus, the man called Yuda left the inn while still at odds with his precious comrade. Little by little, he glanced back at the building standing silently behind him. No matter how much he thought about it, if he was going to live as though he were already dead, then perhaps it would be better to die like Belberman—the one who had guided him through the pitch-black darkness. The one who had truly been his hero. That was why he had not tried to bring his broken-hearted comrades along.
“I’m truly sorry, Jeren……”
Just as Jeren had said, this was nothing more than suicide.
“Belberman……”
Yet even as that thought consumed him, a corner of his heart continued to recall the figure from his alcohol-soaked memories, desperately trying to fan the foolish hope that Belberman was still alive. That was why Yuda was leaving. Reminding himself once more of the reason he had been able to become a hero. How someone like him, who had once been nothing but trash drowning in a dissolute life, had become a hero. Toward that origin, he reached out once more with the single hand he had left.