The Return We Could Never Cross
I knew why Felt had made that choice. During the year I was gone, Chris had understood her situation better than anyone. And after hearing Chris’s explanation, even the hidden feelings Felt had kept from her began to reveal themselves to me, little by little.
Those two larks who had loved each other so deeply. Before they were lovers, Felt had been nothing more than an abandoned little girl. I could imagine the emotions she must have felt when she believed she had lost everything and was truly alone. As the one who had walked beside her through her second life from beginning to end, I understood—even if imperfectly. I knew exactly how she had lived until now.
Her first life had already been discarded. She had only ever tried to live with unwavering loyalty, yet at the end of that ruined existence she had been granted a second chance. To avoid being abandoned again, she had thrown herself into everything without reservation. She had risked her life to accomplish anything and everything, working through days and nights without rest. She had desperately tried to form connections by speaking first to those she was still awkward with, memorizing in her notebook everything the other members liked or disliked and reciting it every single day. Even while disillusioned with the false relationships that had kept her isolated, she had forced herself to appear bright and cheerful in front of everyone—only to tremble with fear over her own uncertain identity the moment she was out of sight.
She had worked that hard. And in return, she had received our vast and warm hearts. Perhaps, within our hunting party, Felt had finally found a new light for her life. That was why the despair and wretchedness she felt now must have crushed her more violently than ever before. It was not the light despair of a mere failed attempt. It was the crushing sense of loss that came from having everything she had staked her life on—everything she wanted to protect—taken away. That emptiness.
Felt could no longer throw herself into anything connected to us, nor could she mend what had been shattered. Even though she might one day have gathered the fragments of the past and painted another picture filled with happy memories, she now clutched a heart too broken to even attempt it. She had sunk into that void and despair. And so she had turned her eyes away from the title of hero that had once run on nothing but a sense of justice. She had gone in search of a new picture—her own true happiness. Having been broken so cruelly that she had nothing left to lose, she must have wanted to leave.
Yes. If someone were to ask how a foolish hero like me could possibly understand her completely, I would have no proper answer. Yet through all the time we had spent together, I had learned from her—and even I, in the end, carried a fragment of the same feeling breathing somewhere in my chest. That was why I could understand what she had wanted to say. I could understand what she truly desired.
Though she had spoken in a cynical tone, as if reproaching Chris and me, and as if mocking her own miserable state, what she had truly wanted was simply our happiness. The same feeling that had driven us to join this war in the first place. She only wished for us to reclaim the happy times we once had, to live a little more happily in the future. That was why, with a heart that could no longer embrace anyone, she had chosen to set everything down and walk forward for her own sake. Doing so would not bring the dead back to life, nor would it harm us. So she would take the best path she could, and we would take the best path we could. That was how our conversation had to end.
Now we stood at the moment where we had to make our decision. But as I had said long ago, I had already made mine. Just as Felt had decided, I had decided about this matter a long time ago. From the very moment I resolved to start over with Chris, I had already chosen.
So—
“····”
I quietly left that place, praying that the days ahead of her would shine once more. Though this conversation would be the last time we could ever reunite as the hunting party, as heroes, what I ultimately wanted was the same as what Felt had wanted: everyone’s happiness. It was the end of the ideal I had always pursued. That was why I had left a way open—so that if she ever needed help, she could come find me. So that if she ever changed her mind, we could start again. Of course, that was only how I hoped things would go. Even if it wasn’t, I had left Chris’s house as a connection point so I could help her whenever she struggled.
Thus, I accepted and respected Felt’s choice. If she wished to walk her own path, then granting that wish was part of a leader’s duty—even if I could no longer be that leader. It was something I had to bear as someone who had once been the leader.
Yet Chris could not easily escape her sorrow. She had only ever wanted Felt to stay by her side. In the end, she could only feel grief over the love that had reached this conclusion. Still, before long, Chris rose from the floor where she had been sitting and looked forward again. She had already known this was how it would end. Though the intense aftertaste of sorrow remained in her eyes, she wiped the grief away with a calm expression, pushed herself up from the floor with her usual rough manner, and stood beside me. Deep in her heart, she expressed her resolve to move forward together once more.
Even though the fact that we had to walk a different road from Felt, and the future that would break our hearts, was something we could not change, we still had a path we had to walk. So I took Chris with me and returned to the house where we had reunited.
“····”
After we got back, I walked over to the window for a moment and looked down at the vast world spread out below. Even though I had understood and accepted Felt’s choice, the time we had spent together—when we had shared our hearts so deeply—was too brilliant to simply sever like this. No matter how firmly I had decided, my heart could not leave so easily. I gazed out at the world beyond the window, trying to calm my troubled mind little by little.
Unlike the view from the hill a few years ago, the world seen from this building—so much higher than any hill—held something that could soothe that unrest. Then, as I suddenly spotted Felt’s house from here, I realized how clearly visible it was and began to understand why Chris had chosen to live in this place.
I pulled my gaze from the scenery outside and looked at Chris, who sat on the sofa as if dead. She had been sitting with her eyes tightly shut, leaning her entire body against the sofa, only breathing. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. In that pained expression, I briefly recalled how deeply affectionate the two of them had once been, and once again I understood how painful this choice must be for both of them. But what could not be helped was simply that—something that could not be helped. We had already walked too far to turn back. And we had not yet walked far enough to regret or cling to the past.
I slowly stepped back from the window, crossed my arms, and sank into the sofa beside Chris, lost in deep thought. For some reason, staying too close to the window kept bringing back unpleasant memories. As I closed my eyes while sitting there, Chris, who had been sitting motionlessly beside me, slowly opened her mouth.
“···· What are we going to do now?”
She was asking about our future plans. I kept my eyes closed for a moment, organizing my thoughts, then spoke quietly.
“There aren’t that many options····· But if we’re going to prioritize among them—”
I began laying out the baseline for what we needed to do from now on, what had to be done first to firmly establish our future plans.
“Right now, what we need most is someone who can help us.”
Chris listened with both hands covering her mouth, then said,
“We need someone who knows how to stand up again in a world that’s become like this.”
She seemed to fall into thought for a moment, but soon stood up as if something had occurred to her, found a piece of paper, and began writing something down diligently.
“····· Siphel, who used to give me medicine, said she’d be busy for a while and that I wouldn’t be able to see her.”
She was telling me about someone like that.
“I’ll find a way to meet her.”
Chris took on that task and began preparing to leave. I nodded, now certain that Chris had a way to contact Siphel, and sent her off. I was about to move busily toward the next plan when—
Before I could—
“····· Why?”
I caught Chris’s arm as she was about to leave, stopping her, and looked straight into her eyes.
“Don’t push yourself too hard.”
No one else knew how precarious her heart was better than I did—the one who had been with her. I said the only words I could offer her, trying to ease the heart of the woman who had sworn to devote herself to me.
“···· Thank you.”
Chris nodded with a faint smile and began walking away to contact Siphel. Left alone in the house, I turned back toward the window, organized the various plans I had been thinking about as much as I could, and then—
“·····”
Once again, I saw the shadows standing there, staring at me.
“···· Yuda.”
This time, it wasn’t only Yuda. I saw the shadows of everyone who had died in front of me that day.
“···· Pierta, Sevia··”
For a moment, I felt my body stiffen. But as I had said before, this time I would succeed—no matter how many times they appeared, I could send them away again.
“·····”
So I closed my eyes once more and sent them away again. And then—
“····”
I realized that my mind had grown fragile enough for their forms to appear again. I felt it keenly: if I did not regain my strength somehow, I would break once more. To prevent that, I immediately began preparing my next plan.
Yes. Little by little, I was beginning to adapt to the human world again. My reunion with my old comrades and the painful farewell had reached a certain conclusion. From now on, I had to gradually advance my plans.
“·····”
I looked toward the direction where the shadows had disappeared and continued thinking about my plans. The ultimate ideal I had to achieve was the harmony between demons and humanity—the only way to survive the revenge of the Heavenly Beings that would come in seven years. In other words, world peace. Of course, calling it world peace sounded unrealistic, but I now possessed the decisive key that could make it possible.
“····”
The identity of Belberman, officially recorded as dead in the Demon Realm. Chris and Siphel, who could prove that identity. The existence of my surviving comrades. Using the ruined title of hero, I intended to attempt something I had never even dared to consider before—something I had never needed to attempt.
“··· It’s about time we began.”
A war against everyone in this world.