He visibly gulped as he picked up my needy whine and apprehended my meaning, there in the quiet room. Despite my mixed feelings about this method, it was effective—unlike the evil duke of old, this man was vulnerable to others’ tears.
I could only imagine the unsightly expression on my face. Lord Heinreid looked shaken; he faltered for a few moments, but he finally understood that I wasn’t looking for superficial reassurances. Eventually, his shoulders caved in resignation.
“It’s the opposite. If I tell you what’s wrong, you’ll actually think through what to do about it, and you’ll work to try and fix things... I know that much.”
Then why...? I started to ask, but I swallowed it back down. Having made my declaration, I decided to focus solely on hearing him out, and I silently urged him to continue with a glance.
“So... So that’s why I felt like it’d be more unfaithful of me to talk about it. I can’t get myself to work on fixing it... I’d just be making you worry for no reason.”
As he gave his fragmentary confession, his voice sounded much like mine had moments ago. It was the voice of someone forcibly dragging out a truth buried deep in his heart—a truth he didn’t want anyone to see. Watching his fingers restlessly scratch at the bedsheets, I didn’t feel like he was putting on an act.
It certainly wasn’t a pleasant line of thought. He likely had just been trying not to worry me unnecessarily. But what did he mean, he couldn’t work on fixing it?
“You probably got the gist of it earlier. Ever since all the chaos settled down, in the little quiet moments, I’ll remember the old days. Even if I’m just sitting around doing nothing, when I look at the floor, I’ll remember crushing someone’s skull under my boot. When I look at a wall, I’ll remember nailing someone up. And when I go to sleep, in my dreams, I’ll really be right back then—even just now.”
Just now. His words brought back that momentary disturbance I’d carefully avoided bringing up. He really had been having a nightmare. But...while he was there in his dreams, they weren’t nightmares for him, were they? While he dreamed, he went back—back to the evil duke he’d once been.
His face was filled with pain, with grief. I could clearly see the anguish flooding his mind. It wasn’t something he could simply overlook and set aside. Still, though...
“I know,” he continued. “You’re gonna say it’s not my fault—you’re gonna tell me to forget about it. That’s exactly what you want me to do, isn’t it? But I can’t. I just can’t. If I could laugh and smile without any guilt while remembering the things I’ve done, then I really would be the same as back then. So, Craig... If you’re going to tell me to live, then please—just let me keep carrying this feeling.”
It was a heartfelt plea. I’d finally gotten the truth out of him, but rather than relief, I felt despair seeping through me.
If Lord Heinreid was carrying a pain too great for him to bear, then I wanted to understand it. If there was something he wished for, then I wanted to do whatever it took to grant it. I wanted to tear him away from that vile, horrific past. And I wanted to see him smile from the bottom of his heart. I’d believed that if I could just learn the truth, then I could make it all happen.
But he wanted me to overlook his pain. He felt that if he forgot it, he couldn’t go on living—he couldn’t be himself.
Unable to keep my emotions bottled up any longer, I finally spoke.
“Then...what do I have to do to make you happy?”
I gazed pleadingly at him, and he fell silent for a brief moment. Finally, he gave me an uncomfortable smile.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up after all.”
“No, that’s not it!”
That wasn’t what I’d said. Why was that how it worked? Why couldn’t he understand? If he’d apologized for keeping silent, then I would have accepted it, but he’d just apologized for speaking. He was sorry he hadn’t been able to keep the truth concealed from me.
“I mean, no matter how hopeless things are, you’ll always worry and plan and try to do something about it, right?” he asked. “You’re finally back with your real master, and you’ve finally made the friends you were supposed to make—so I didn’t want to get in your way. Craig, you... You’ll be happier if you stay over there.”
THUD.
I felt as though some illusory fist had slammed into the back of my head with all its might. For a moment, I couldn’t comprehend the words he’d just said to me. All the clinging fog had cleared, leaving only reality before us.
“Are you trying to tell me...that it’s a mistake for me to live by your side?” I asked.
His silence spoke louder than any answer.
I expelled all the air in my lungs and looked down at the floor, averting my gaze from those scarlet eyes. That was the only means I could come up with to hold myself back from yelling in his face.
This was too...too much. Just too much. I’d told him that I wouldn’t let him die, that I wanted him to live, and he’d accepted it on the surface while rejecting it in his heart. He was still tormented by his unpunished sins and his guilt toward me—even now, he didn’t have the slightest desire to go on living. All he was doing was surviving, out of duty and obligation to me. I was holding his hand, but he wasn’t holding mine. No matter how long I waited, his fingers would never grasp me back. And if my grip ever loosened, then...
Suddenly, Lord Heinreid’s arm appeared in my lowered field of vision. I reached out vaguely toward his dangling wrist and gripped it tight, making certain that he was still there. I heard a small, reflexive cry of pain, but I was in no place to listen.
It was so thin. Even through his clothes, I could tell he wasn’t healthy. I had no clue how he’d managed to hide it from me this long.
Am I just enjoying the fruits of his self-sacrifice?
His arm looked fragile, like I could break it if I held it wrong. I slowly removed my hand, and he rubbed at the red mark my grip had left. But somehow, I couldn’t find the will to offer any words of apology or care.
“You’re awful,” I said instead.
There was no response.
“You never tell me anything, and you’re never going to listen to what I have to say...”
All I could give him were pathetic complaints. The pitiful, lowly feeling in my chest spurred me on, and even as my throat trembled, I couldn’t leave my grievances unspoken.
Silence held for a while. But eventually, he spoke up with concern in his voice, offering quiet words of reassurance.
“That’s right. It’s all my fault.”