The Rabbit Girl Cannot Feel Emotions
The rabbit girl cannot feel emotions.
Chapter 35. The rabbit girl cannot feel emotions.
The war ended in victory for the demon race. The moment the castle came under attack, Cartoria and Chris released every last drop of their magic, annihilating every remaining soldier and deserter without leaving a single one alive. Even the survivors who escaped that fate had lost all will to fight and surrendered their necks. I was safely rescued and escorted underground. But Tia—
“······”
Thanks to Jemma and the attendants who arrived not long after and administered emergency treatment, she managed to cling to life. According to Jemma, although Tia had once been human, her body had long since become that of a demon. As long as the wounds were properly treated, she could survive even with a hole through her. However, whether she would ever regain consciousness depended entirely on her own will. She had become, in effect, a vegetable.
Cartoria brought every medical technique and piece of equipment she could find, doing everything in her power to stabilize Tia after the initial treatment. All the while, I could do nothing but watch over her in silence.
“······”
Even after the treatment ended and we received the relief that she would at least survive, I remained seated beside her bed, unmoving, as if the world had stopped. Even knowing her body was safe, an unbearable sense of powerlessness kept rising within me without end.
Yes. From beginning to end, I had been useless. Before I decided to stand on Tia’s side, it was understandable—she was the enemy. But now? Now I was nothing more than a fool who had jumped to conclusions without even understanding myself.
What could an idealist accomplish without power? I had known this from the start. It was a question I had agonized over long before. In the end, if one lacked strength, what could another’s help truly achieve? I had known this too. I had known that relying on Tia would lead to this outcome, that someday this ending would arrive.
Slide——
“At least eat something before you cry.”
“······”
The one who approached from behind and gently stroked my shoulder was Kibotos.
“······ It’s all right. The Demon King will be fine.”
Yet even those words could not help me gather the will that had already shattered like glass.
“And it wasn’t your fault. It was… an accident.”
I could not answer that. An accident? How could anyone call what happened an accident? Even though I no longer wanted to think such thoughts, I had seen it through Clairvoyance. I had closed my eyes and run away again. It was clearly an accident I had caused. One born from not knowing whether I deserved to live or die. From not even understanding the simple truth that life should not end in death. If only I had not stood so close to that window. Even watching from a distance would have been enough. It was all my fault. No one else’s. Because I acted wrongly, Tia took the punishment in my place. Because she had promised to protect me. That was why these thoughts kept returning.
“······”
Eventually I tried to speak to Kibotos, but in the end I closed my mouth without a word. With a sigh, she turned and left, and I could only watch her go.
“······”
My hands, resting on my knees, trembled as they clenched into fists. No matter how I looked at it, it had not been an accident. Kibotos must have known that too. She had only said it to comfort me. And yet I could not even accept the reason Tia had ended up like this, could not even give a proper reply. The more time passed, the more I felt like nothing. Not even cosmic dust—now I was like a mute who could not speak. I no longer knew what I could do. The more people came to visit Tia and me, the more I found myself unable to answer or act, unable to grasp what I even was. Even the ideals I had chased began to feel like they were no longer the right answer.
No. No, that was not it. It was not that they were wrong. It was simply that… they now felt too distant. Not because Tia had lost consciousness, but because the fact that I was such a useless existence had erected an insurmountable wall on the path toward those ideals. A wall so long, thick, and high that I could neither climb over it, pass beside it, nor go around it. And so I could do nothing.
To be honest—truly honest—I remembered the moment Tia lost consciousness. I remembered the instant her hand gripping mine stiffened like stone. I remembered the light fading from her eyes as her eyelids slowly closed. I remembered the warmth in her hand scattering in an instant. No matter what Jemma, the attendants, or Cartoria said about demons being different from humans, I could not believe Tia would ever wake again. I remembered the sight of her protecting me and losing consciousness right before my eyes. That cruel image. That was why I could no longer endure it.
I had witnessed countless deaths on the battlefield, the deaths of countless comrades, the deaths of friends. But this time—this time something was different. Tia, who had filled the void left by my comrades’ deaths with her very existence, was someone who held a different place in my heart than anyone before. So what was Tia to me? Tia was—
“······”
Why was this so terrifying? Why was I so afraid? I did not fear dying in battle. I did not fear death itself. So why was this one thing so frightening? Loving someone. Why did it terrify me so much? Because she kept trying to leave me, beyond my control? Even when things began to feel good between Yustitia and me, I had been terrified. Afraid. If she had simply stopped loving me, that would have been fine—it would have been her choice. But the fact that she could leave at any moment even while still loving me was unbearable. For someone who must always stand on the front lines, love was a luxury. In a place where one must always be close to death, if you loved someone and then realized they had gone somewhere you could never see them again, you would lose all control over your emotions and reason. That was why I rejected Yustitia’s confession and deliberately kept my distance from Tia. But it had meant nothing. No matter how much I refused or pushed her away, it changed nothing. It was too absurd. Too powerless. In the end, Yustitia was sacrificed, and I, barely flung aside, began to die inside, hollowed out as if I had lost all meaning in life. If the Demon King had not taken an interest in me, I would have died leaving only regrets behind. And now, once again, I could do nothing for Tia, who had been sacrificed because of me. In that moment, I had been powerless. At least when Yustitia was sacrificed, there had been something I could have done—something that was simply blocked. This time, there had truly been nothing. No matter how many times I told myself I did not love her, that I would kill her, in the end I had come to love her and could do nothing at all. Had I become someone who could only love? It was terrifying. Frightening. Now I truly did not know what to do.
Slide——
Still curled up in the chair, I cried out in pain.
“Tiaaaaa······!”
Because I no longer knew what to do at all. Would Tia have heard my voice? Could she hear me? Her hand remained cold. What was I supposed to do now? Could I truly bring peace between demons and humanity? Could I accomplish it like this? I was a mass of contradictions. I chased ideals more desperately than anyone, yet here I was, weeping because the one who had been my enemy had fallen because of me. What standard had my ideals ever been built upon? No—my ideals had never been built upon any standard at all. That was why I could do nothing now. If this was how it was going to end, then rather—
“······”
Only after wallowing endlessly in that pain did I realize there had been someone else in the room besides me.
“······”
At some point, she had come to stand beside me—the one who had grown completely familiar. She stood there without a word, without moving, without even breathing, quietly watching over Tia.
“···”
When I finally suppressed my pain and stopped my groans, Jemma carefully approached and knelt before me, meeting my eyes.
“··· Master.”
I averted my gaze. Speaking to anyone had become too difficult. Even knowing that losing someone was natural for intelligent beings, I could no longer bear it. Even though I knew, as Kibotos had said and as I had once told her, that one must keep living—no matter how many more I would have to lose. Kibotos had Clairvoyance and could use magic. But I—I could do nothing. I truly could protect nothing. If I used Clairvoyance well, I might at least help avoid threats, but what could I do? Jemma was the same as Tia. If Jemma were ever exposed to danger, I would only scream and watch her die, unable to do anything. Of course I would—after all, I was nothing but a powerless human. Now that I had realized I must not die, I was not even a human who could die.
“···”
In the end, I could not say a single word even to Jemma, who held my hands and tried to meet my eyes. She gently stroked my hands for a moment before speaking.
“···· The Demon King would not wish for this.”
“She threw herself into danger for you because she valued you more than herself.”
I slowly lifted my eyes to meet hers.
“Because she wants you to live and be happy. Because she wants you to be happier here than anywhere else.”
But even those words, I could not accept.
“Even if that’s true, what can I do?”
Even knowing she was trying to soothe a heart crushed beneath the weight of absurdity, I could not accept it.
“Do you even know what my happiness is?”
My arms began to tremble. My heart would not calm; it kept pounding faster and faster.
“I—I just wanted everyone to live and be happy—”
Slide——
As I slowly rose to my feet, I felt blood rush to my head, my vision turning crimson.
“I just wanted a utopia where everyone could smile and be happy.”
I looked at Jemma, who had risen with me. My chest was so heavy, so full, that I could barely breathe.
“That’s all I wanted····”
My body began to collapse forward. I grabbed Jemma’s arm to steady myself.
“I didn’t want anyone else to be sacrificed—”
Thud——
My legs gave out completely, and I sank to the floor. Jemma knelt with me, supporting me to the very end.
“Master···”
She looked at me with damp eyes.
“····· Master.”
I could only stare at the floor, my breathing ragged, my gaze vacant. Even so, Jemma held my hands tightly and gently pulled me into an embrace.
“I like that kind of Master.”
It was a voice I had never heard from her before.
“I like that kind of Master, so I cherished you more than anyone.”
Holding my hands, holding me tightly, her eyes closed as she spoke.
“I like that kind of Master, so even splitting my days into seconds to work tirelessly was joyful.”
“No matter what you say, I will stay by your side. Even if the Demon King truly dies, I will serve you.”
What could I say? Hearing those words did not erase my powerlessness, but—
“So Master···· please····”
Why? Why did it feel like I could no longer hide anything from Jemma? Because I had received too much from her? Because I wanted to depend on her, even if only this once?
“····· Jemma, I····”
Tears began to fall uncontrollably.
“I’m···· I’m so powerless······!”
The tears poured endlessly. I could not suppress my emotions. Even though those simple matters should have ended without any loss, the hatred and powerlessness I felt toward myself for causing this could not be calmed. My breath kept catching. If I did not speak now, I felt I would truly go mad. Even after hearing Jemma’s words, holding them back made me feel like I had become a lunatic.
“I really···· can’t do anything·····!!”
In the end, I spilled the cup of emotions that had overflowed. I had said I no longer wanted to love anyone. That I did not want to love someone enough to give them everything. But no matter how loudly I screamed, it was never something I could decide. And so, when Jemma knocked on the door to my heart, this foolish me unlocked it once more. But why?
“Please···· help me·····!!”
If it was Jemma, she would. If it was Jemma, who had never refused my words and always followed, who tried to obey every command, she would do it.
“Help me, Jemmaaaaa·····! I—I want to become stronger·······!!”
If I asked to become strong enough to protect my people, she would grant it. So I poured every ounce of my strength and heart into the plea. Even knowing that if I lost Jemma too, I would surely commit suicide, I still asked—because if I gained power, perhaps things could change. Even though, if Jemma refused, it would mean I had only opened my heart for nothing before choosing death. I did not know why, but the trust I felt, the comfort Jemma gave me, and the warmth she directed toward me—this sincerity in her voice, this heartbeat she sent to my chest—made me feel even smaller. It looked so pitiful. Even in this wretched state, having lowered myself as far as I could go, I still begged for strength. I begged Jemma. I begged the heavens. Yet Jemma did not refuse even this pathetic, miserable request. Instead—
Slide——
She released me from her embrace and showed me her tear-streaked cheeks.
“Jemma····”
When our eyes met, my heart began to race so violently that a single gaze could shake a person’s soul. She looked at me with eyes full of resolve.
“······”
Jemma, who had slightly parted her lips to speak in response to my plea, hesitated for a brief moment before saying softly,
“··· Master.”
“Now, I think I can make my decision.”
The reason she had sometimes looked at me during our long time together with that strange, unreadable expression—
The reason her eyes were now so full of resolve—
“Please become····· my savior.”