Hands Overlapping Once More
Our hands overlapped once more. We wept for a long time after that. It was the kind of crying that went on and on, far longer than the sum of every moment we had shared together. When the tears finally subsided and I regained some composure, I listened as Chris—now firmly resolved to stand by my side once again—told me everything else.
Siphel’s current situation. News of the other surviving comrades. Their rough locations, and among them, the one whose whereabouts were most certain. The woman Chris had loved with such fierce, unyielding devotion—the one she still loved, refusing to let go even now. Felt’s circumstances, laid out in full.
Once all the stories had mingled in our voices, Chris asked what I planned to do next. I held my answer for a moment. It felt wiser to gather everyone first, rebuild the hunting party, and only then reveal my plans rather than finalize them between just the two of us. For now, finding the others took priority.
So, as soon as the sun set, I decided to go with Chris to find Felt. Right after hearing about her from Chris, my chest had ached so badly I could hardly breathe. The thought of Felt—the woman who had cherished us so deeply—breaking down like that left me lost and hollow. But once that sharp pang of responsibility eased, another thought crept in: if she truly wanted to leave, we should let her. Forcing her to stay would only pile more painful memories on top of the old ones. Being miserable alone was better than being miserable surrounded by everyone who had once been her world. I understood that now.
I told Chris as much. If, even after my return, Felt still wanted to give up, then we would truly let her go. Of course Chris refused at first. To her, Felt was a part of herself—a savior who had brought light back into her life, and the love she could never abandon. But when she heard the sincerity in my words—that Felt’s pain was something we could never simply fix—she fell silent, thought it over, and finally nodded.
Together, we set out to tell Felt of my return and invite her to join the new hunting party. We would find her holed up at home on the weekend.
“……”
Following Chris’s lead, we arrived at Felt’s house. It stood in the same rundown slum near the brothel district where I had met Chris the day before. The building looked ready to collapse at any moment. While the rest of the city had been rebuilt and gleaming with new construction, Felt’s home in this forgotten corner felt older than the era when I had still been a hero—older even than the war itself.
As I followed Chris toward the door and reached out to knock, she stopped my hand and simply pushed it open with a dull click.
“Huh?”
I was startled that the door hadn’t even been locked, but Chris stepped inside with a grim expression, muttering as if this were nothing new.
“…She didn’t lock it again.”
The situation was already familiar to me from what Chris had told me, so I understood. My own face darkened to match hers. Even so, the light in my eyes never faded. If Felt’s desired future had no place for us, that would be heartbreaking—but after everything we had been through together, I knew that if she could accept who I was now, she would come back. That certainty sat quietly inside me.
We moved slowly through the house, searching every room for Felt. But—
“Why isn’t she here…?”
Chris looked genuinely shaken. Felt never left the house on weekends. While I scanned the entrance for any clue about where she might have gone, a familiar voice drifted in from outside the door.
“I told you not to come.”
Slowly, the figure I had longed to see stepped into view. My heart trembled as I stood there, trying to steady it. Felt walked past me without a glance and stopped beside Chris, glaring at her with eyes far sharper than before.
“Who the hell is this?”
“Felt, where have you been—”
Chris’s gentle question was cut off as Felt’s voice turned vicious, her once-vibrant face now gaunt and hollowed by despair.
“So you finally got tired of me and found yourself a new woman, huh? Fine. Just leave already.”
Still not understanding the situation, Felt snatched up a bottle of liquor from beside Chris and stormed into the room, ignoring every word. Chris watched her for a moment, then grabbed her wrist.
“No, Felt. It’s not like that.”
“What’s not like that? You brought some pretty little thing home, so now you’re saying goodbye, right?”
Felt was already broken beyond repair. She had interpreted this as Chris’s final farewell. Her heart teetered on the edge of collapse. Even as she tried to push Chris away, Felt’s true feelings betrayed her—she didn’t actually want Chris to leave. Yet she lacked the courage to hold on. She turned her head, desperate not to watch Chris walk away, and tried to flee into the room.
“Felt, please just listen to me……”
Chris refused to let go. She only wanted one more chance to talk. But Felt kept her face turned away, refusing to meet her eyes, as if she had sworn never to look at Chris again. She stopped walking, but her back remained rigid.
“I want to talk, Felt…!”
Chris’s voice grew frantic, thick with desperation. At last Felt whipped her head around.
“What the hell do you want from me———!!”
Tears streamed down her face.
“If you leave me now, you can be happy, can’t you———!”
“If you’ve already made your choice, then just get out, you piece of trash———!”
Chris froze, stunned by the tears. Then her grip tightened with renewed resolve.
“Come back with us.”
The words only made Felt more furious.
“What……?!”
“What kind of bullshit are you spouting?! You even brought someone new———!”
Her glare landed on me.
“Someone with a better body, prettier face, two hands, two ears—someone whole! So just———!”
Her eyes traced my features. Recognition flickered.
“Just———”
She stared harder.
“Just……”
Felt’s voice died. She looked as though she were remembering a dream she had long since buried. She stepped past Chris and approached me, hand half-raised.
“You…… Who are you……”
Denial warred across her face. This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t possible. She reached for me, then jerked her head back toward Chris.
“Who is this person…… Chris……”
She seemed to remember all over again that Chris was now a woman.
“Chris turned into a woman…… No, that can’t be……”
She had truly believed I was dead. Even now she fought the possibility, desperate and terrified.
“……Felt.”
When I finally spoke her name, her eyes widened. She stumbled backward.
“It’s a lie. You’re someone else…… You’re just messing with me, Chris……”
She glared at Chris again.
“No, Belberman already…… that day……”
Her gaze returned to me. I reached out and took her hand gently, trying to pull her back to the day she first joined our hunting party—when she had been abandoned by the underworld organization she once belonged to, cast aside even by the family she had trusted. Nothing had remained but a rotting future on the streets. I had found her wandering like a ghost and taken her hand. I needed her to remember that moment.
“Aren’t you cold?”
I asked the same question I had asked back then.
“Your clothes look pretty worn out……”
Yes. That was exactly how it had happened. I had just returned from a long commission and was eating alone at a tavern when I spotted a woman walking past the window like a corpse. I bought a cup of hot mulled wine and caught her hand.
“I know it’s suspicious, but I bought it from the tavern over there. Try it.”
Her face had looked so much like mine before I met Justitia—utterly defeated. I couldn’t walk away. Those were the words I had spoken when I decided to take care of her. The same words that had once saved me when Justitia offered them to me.
“If you still don’t trust me after this, you can keep walking. But I’ll be around for a while, so if things get too hard, come drink this at least.”
I spoke those words to her again now.
Felt’s reaction that day had been sharp and irritable, but she had downed the hot mulled wine in one go. That part I remembered clearly. And the words she had muttered afterward—
“Mulled wine…… tastes bad…… when it gets cold……”
“Mulled wine tastes bad when it gets cold——!”
Now, with tears pouring down her face, she said the same thing.
“Bel……berman……”
All the memories came flooding back. Her expression shifted from venom and rage into pure, overwhelming grief. Even though our heights had changed and she no longer had to look up at me, we were finally facing each other again.
“Why…… why did you come back so late…… so damn late……!”
Felt’s anguish exploded. She collapsed to the floor, and in that moment every shared memory returned in full. I knelt in front of her and pulled her into a tight embrace. She sobbed violently, hands frantically trying to wipe away tears that wouldn’t stop.
“Why…… whyyyyy……!”
Why hadn’t I told her sooner that I was alive? Why had there been no sign of me, not even a fingertip? Why had I taken so long?
“……”
I had no answer.
“I’m sorry I was late, Felt……”
All I could do was wrap that fragile heart in an apology and hold her with my smaller frame. All I could offer was sorrow and regret for the wounds she carried.
“I missed you so much……!”
She gave up trying to stop the tears and clung to me, wailing into my shoulder.
“You piece of trash……!”
She cried in my arms for a long time. Then her eyes found Chris standing nearby. Warmth returned to her gaze.
“You should’ve told me something like this first, you trash……!”
Her voice was full of resentment, but she buried her face against me again.
We had succeeded in finding Felt. Thankfully, she accepted my changed body without much difficulty, using Chris as precedent. She poured out all her grief in my arms until her sobs gradually quieted. Then, without a word, she picked up the bottle and walked into the room, drinking straight from it in long gulps. When we followed her inside, she spoke.
“Still…… I’m not going back.”
Felt shook her head.
“I…… found my own life.”
Even knowing I had returned, she refused.
“Felt……”
Chris’s entire body went rigid.