What I Ultimately Wanted to Protect
Yet what I had wanted to protect all along was—
Even so, even as my resolve and sense of duty clashed with the joy of this moment, leaving fear and happiness tangled together in the chaos, Chris sat beside me. She was quietly adapting to our changed forms, bringing over a paring knife and a few pieces of fruit before carefully peeling them with delicate care. The sight overlapped with memories of the old Chris learning how to handle a knife from Felt long ago. Now that she wielded the blade so skillfully, I found myself strangely moved by the sight of her.
She must have been unbearably lonely and tormented while I was gone. Yet the moment I appeared at her side, her face lit up with such pure joy that my own confusion began to settle, little by little.
“Eat.”
“…Thanks, Chris.”
I carefully bit into the fruit she had peeled and offered a faint smile. The instant she realized I was Belberman, the walls around her heart had begun to lower, bit by bit. She drew close the way we used to, scattering light, trivial conversation between us, her whole demeanor growing lighter and brighter. Though we had only just begun to properly meet and spend time together again, the years we had shared still carried weight. Shameless as it was, simply being at her side filled me with such happiness that a smile came naturally.
It felt as though we were back in those days—snacking without a care, living peacefully as if we had no worries at all. Just like the us from so long ago.
But no matter how much this moment made me smile, no matter how much it felt like reclaiming an old happiness, my heart was nothing like it had once been. Even while I sat with Chris in that warm, wordless contentment, the fear inside me refused to ease.
I was still terrified.
Chris and the others were more precious to me than even the Demon King. The reason I had raged after losing Yuda was because my comrades—who had shared everything with me—mattered far more than some Demon King who would one day devour everything and stand at the top. Even if he truly had betrayed us as the Demon King claimed, all I had truly wanted was for him to live. If we could simply survive together, looking toward the same tomorrow and greeting the morning sun the way we always had, that would have been enough.
After all, none of us had joined this war for the title of the Fifteen Heroes. We hadn’t fought for honor, or wealth, or some grand ambition to change the world. We had never desired to stand above others after victory and impose our will. We had only ever wanted to laugh freely again in a peaceful world, to live happily, to go on living exactly as we always had. We wanted to protect that ordinary, radiant, precious daily life—so precious that we had been willing to stake our lives on the war.
Life must come before daily life, of course. But for those of us who had long since lived with our lives on the line, life itself had become the most valuable currency we possessed.
That was why this moment—sitting here with Chris after our emotional reunion, trying to reclaim the happiness we once shared—terrified me so much. This fleeting instant felt as though it could shatter at any second. Every small gesture, every glance, every step I took here might trigger some butterfly effect that would come back to haunt us later like karma.
The image of the Demon King, who had sacrificed half his torso to protect me despite his overwhelming power. The image of him, in that distant world, swallowing everything for my sake until he finally broke apart himself. Even if I had once said they were not more precious than my old family, that did not mean they were not precious at all. The family I had regained might one day choose to sacrifice themselves for me, just as he had. The thought that it could happen again because of me filled me with unbearable fear.
I had already lost so much, yet this feeling was one I had not experienced in a long time. After Ideia’s death, I had believed I would never feel it again. The hollow emptiness and strange relief that came after loss—the sense of liberation—had made me forget how to let anyone in. Then the Demon King and the demons had forced their way into my heart, and the sight of him offering himself as sacrifice had shattered something inside me.
Yes. I was no longer Belberman. Even though I had introduced myself as such to Chris, no matter how I thought about it, I could no longer call myself by that name. I had become someone who could no longer hold anyone close. I was too fragile now to embrace another person. My heart was too tattered to endure losing someone again. If I wanted to walk forward without sacrificing anyone else, this fear was inevitable. It was only natural.
Fear was especially terrifying when there was no room left in my heart to spare, yet I was still being forced to accept others—when I had to accept my old family once more. Even without the Demon King as an example, I had already seen it with Yuda. No—with Chris. Every time I looked at her, I saw Yuda vanishing without a trace right before my eyes.
Yet because of that very fear, because I truly believed this might be the last time, I could not stop myself from wanting to stay even a little longer. Since we would inevitably have to part anyway, I wanted to remain quietly by her side until the moment she had to leave this place—recalling the old days, revealing my identity in this form, and simply being together.
But my heart was weak.
“What happened over there? Bel…berman.”
Even as I told myself I only wanted a little more time, just a little longer, I found myself wanting to spend even more of it with her. I wanted to find more of our old family, to fill a house with the same lively noise we once had. In the middle of our conversation, I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head away.
“…You okay?”
Chris, who had been quietly watching me, reached out and patted me gently—her voice warmer and kinder than before, as if she had sworn never to lose me again.
Yes. That was it. I wanted so badly to comfort her in return, to soothe the painful past she had endured and the deep wounds that must have formed in my absence. The urge rose so violently it felt as though it could hold up the collapsing sky itself. Joy, longing, and a childish regret that wanted to turn back flooded through me, and for a moment I nearly changed my mind and chose to stay with her.
But I was not playing games. I had not returned here as a joke. I had not sworn to protect them and create peace on a whim. I had not visited that world for fun, nor made promises to her there lightly. Even if it cost me my life, I never wanted to sacrifice anyone again. Therefore, if there was even the slightest chance of someone being sacrificed, I would never accept anyone’s feelings. That was the vow I had made from the depths of my heart in that place.
“Yeah… If it’s hard to talk about, you can tell me slowly. We have time now, after all.”
Chris. I had already made a pact—with you, with everyone within my reach, with this world, with her from the other world, and with the ruler of that race. I had no confidence I could keep that pact perfectly, nor even that I could fulfill it completely. But I also had no confidence that I could break it. So I would find a way to uphold it no matter what. The future I longed for was one where no one had to be sacrificed. In that future, which would soon arrive, you and I, countless demons, and all our surviving old family would be laughing together in happiness.
Yet the more I repeated this to myself, the more doubt crept in. Doubt toward myself. Was saying I would protect them by leaving not simply running away from the responsibility I should bear? Was I not trying to escape from something I could not take responsibility for? Because I lacked the confidence to protect them, was I not ultimately trying to run away? Was what I truly wanted to protect really Chris and our old family—or was it my own heart?
I was still lost in confusion. My sense of responsibility, my longing, and my sorrow had merged into a dark mass of emotion that now shimmered with an unbearably chaotic light.
Then, as I swallowed that heavy mass down—
“Bel…berman.”
Chris, who was still not used to calling me by my old name in this form, hesitantly spoke it while looking straight into my eyes.
“……”
For a brief, fleeting moment, I escaped my doubts. Her clear gaze pulled my attention in, as though I were being drawn into deep waters. Chris, who had stolen my focus, glanced somewhere behind me before meeting my eyes again and speaking.
“Honestly, it feels a bit strange to say this now… but I don’t want to hear any more stories from you, and I don’t really have any expectations either.”
It sounded as though she were speaking for my sake.
“I’m already satisfied just knowing you came back.”
For some reason, my doubts transformed into certainty. My resolve crumbled, my will shattered into pieces.
“But, Bel…berman.”
Her expression was desperate—as though she had no choice but to cling to this right now. It was a look so urgent and yearning that I could not even imagine what she was feeling.
She asked me:
“Just this one thing—please answer me…”
Every time she hesitated, my heart pounded harder. Why was I growing tense over her question? Why were cracks forming in the resolve I had so firmly built to leave? Why did the question she was about to ask feel so terrifying? At the time, I had no answers.
Finally, her hesitation ended.
“You… can go find your freedom now.”
The moment her voice reached me, her heart—unchanged even after years of the Demon King’s war, the hunting party days before that, and the roughly one year I had been gone—spoke to me with the same warmth that made any other future seem impossible.
“So now… let’s stop.”
Even as she said it, her expression held something else. Somewhere in her eyes lingered the small, fragile hope of a girl who still wanted to cling to something.