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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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I knew that keeping on escaping wouldn’t lead me to the best choice.
What was needed now was to reveal a secret of my own, one that held the same weight as the secret Rain had just confessed.
Except…
I’ve never fantasized about them and… no.
Stop trying to run away from this.
Rain had already made it clear what she wanted.
She wanted to know what I was hiding, what was under the bandage, and why I was trying to hide it from her.
Just to be sure, I asked again, needing to hear him say it.
“So, what is it you want from me?”
“…You can tell me about your feelings later. I need some time to process… For now, just tell me what you’re hiding behind that bandage.”
Right.
This was better.
She was giving me time; that’s nice of her.
All I have to do is show her.
I don’t have to explain, right?
“Do I have to explain why?”
“…No, you can tell me about it later, when you’re ready. For now… just let me see.”
Was he trying to control me?
Or was this her way of offering trust?
Or maybe, as an old friend, she didn’t want to pressure me any further?
It didn’t matter.
I reached up and grasped the edge of my bandage, my answer conveyed through my actions.
My fingers fumbled with the tightly wound knots…
“Can you untie it for me?” I asked sheepishly.
Rain nodded and leaned closer.
“Oh, and before you do…” he began, his voice hesitant.
“Don’t… don’t be surprised or put off by what you see, alright?”
His odd request made her hesitate for a moment, but she quickly brushed it off and undid the knots.
“Of course not.”
Bright sunlight assaulted my eyes as the familiar face of Rain Garden, the original hero, came into focus.
Her hair… was longer than I remembered, tied back neatly.
Her eyes, filled with determination, and her brow, furrowed with conviction, were exactly the same.
Instead of her usual armor, she was wearing the academy’s uniform…
The headmaster’s uniform, no less.
It was a strange sight, considering how much she preferred to wear armor, whether in the royal palace or on the battlefield.
A part of me was relieved to see that she hadn’t changed at all.
But it also made me acutely aware of how much I had changed.
I was different now.
If she knew, if anyone who knew the old me saw me now… they would realize it instantly.
Just like she did, judging by her expression.
I was probably the only person in the world who could make the legendary hero’s face contort with such horror.
The thought made me feel a perverse sense of pride.
However, her contorted expression wasn’t one of anger; it was a mixture of shock and sorrow.
“It’s not that shocking, is it?” I chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood.
I slowly raised my hands to my face, my nails scraping against my skin.
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They were beautiful, a mesmerizing black sprinkled with a captivating light that drew me in.
I could have stared into them forever.
I loved gazing into your eyes during our brief moments of respite.
You would always stiffen under my gaze, but you never looked away.
And you would always give me that gentle smile…
I loved seeing my reflection in your eyes, in that vast and starry expanse.
As if I was the only thing that mattered, the only thing you saw.
And now you’ve hidden them away.
I wanted to tell you, “Why don’t you take those off? It must be uncomfortable.” but aside from your habit of studying people’s expressions, you seemed fine, so I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.
You kept your eye covered, even as we made our way through that labyrinth.
You were even sharper, more agile than before, but watching you navigate with a single eye made me nervous.
I told myself, “He has his reasons. He can hide them if he wants.” But then you showed her, the princess, without a moment’s hesitation.
It angered me, the thought of someone else looking into those eyes, those eyes that were meant for me, and only me.
That’s why I pushed you.
I wanted us to be equals, so I revealed my own vulnerabilities.
And you… despite my forceful approach, you simply removed the bandage without a word.
A part of me was disappointed.
I was curious to see your reaction after you confessed to pleasuring yourself to the thought of me.
I wanted to see your disgust, your condemnation – any genuine emotion.
I couldn’t sense anything through that damn bandage.
Then, you asked me to untie it.
Typical you, always ruining the mood.
My heart pounded as I reached for your bandage.
Would those eyes still hold the same familiar darkness?
Perhaps they had grown clouded after your travels.
Maybe that’s why you covered them.
As I undid the last knot, my heart sank.
My expectations, my curiosity… it all vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
“Why the shocked look?” you asked, your voice light and teasing.
You gave me that same, familiar smile, the one that used to make my heart skip a beat.
But my attention was drawn to something else entirely.
Scars.
The bandage had hidden them from view.
Scars that marred the skin around your eye, the eye I cherished, the eye I loved.
Self-inflicted wounds, etched into your skin as if you had clawed at your own eye in a frenzy.
Light scratches… deep gouges that must have been excruciating.
Wounds inflicted after our separation, wounds I knew nothing about.
Rage, primal and absolute, surged through me.
Who?
Why?
When?
Where?
“Who did this?”
I whispered, my voice surprisingly steady, despite the tremor that ran through it.
The answer was right in front of me.
You had been dropping hints all along.
I grabbed your hand, squeezing it so tightly you wouldn’t be able to break free.
All eight of my fingernails, filed to sharp points, dug into your skin.
As if to inflict pain with ease.
As if I had sharpened them for this very purpose.
“Why did you do this to yourself?”
“What are you talking about?” you mumbled, but your act of innocence was unconvincing.
The scars, concentrated around your eye, were undeniably self-inflicted.
The varying shades of red, some fresh, some faded, told a story of repeated abuse.
You had been doing this for a long time.
If I hadn’t stopped you, you might have raked your nails across that beautiful face again.
I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing another scar mar the skin around your obsidian eyes.
My legs felt weak.
My entire body trembled.
“I asked you a question, Ron. Why?”
You remained silent, your gaze fixed on some distant point.
I had said you didn’t have to tell me if you didn’t want to, but my tone had been anything but gentle.
Without realizing it, my hand had moved from your hand to your throat.
Blackness, viscous and cold, swirled within me.
My resolve, the composure I had carefully cultivated as a hero, threatened to crumble.
But did it even matter anymore?
I was no longer a hero bound to a code of honor; I was simply a headmaster, retired from the frontlines.
Honor, righteousness, self-control… these things were no longer necessary.
“Ron…”
My own feelings were irrelevant.
Right now, only one thing mattered.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
…It’s okay.
You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.
I won’t tell you to forget about the past.
From now on, I’ll protect you.
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Damnn..