Just who is this man in front of me?
This unexpected question cut mercilessly into the girl’s heart. He was someone she ought to have known, someone she’d lived with until this very moment—the man who’d raised her, taught her. He was irreplaceable to her, yet she’d suddenly started seeing him as a complete stranger. Why was that?
I’m scared.
The shadowy figure stood with his back to the sun, his features unreadable.
“This is my final duty as your Enola. Come at me, Belle!”
He raised the sword in his hands and took a small step toward the girl. The tip of the blade shone sharply, drawing her eyes to it. It felt as if something had just twisted itself around her heart. And trying to fight off that pain…
Ah. So that’s what this is, she thought. Just like how I’m about to leave him behind, he’s planning on leaving me, too.
The question of “why” had no place there. All she had was a choice—the latest choice at the end of countless other choices. The seeds of choice are always being scattered, so we never have to question when or why.
That’s right…
Why…?