“Ah-ha-ha-ha. I mean…it makes me feel like a normal woman, just like any of the races here. It feels like you’re looking at me in this deep, fundamental way that goes beyond race. It can be annoying and sometimes it makes me feel bad, but thanks to that…sometimes I feel at ease. Do you get it? …I can’t really explain it.”
“Well. I never knew you could be so vicious with your words. Belle, listen. You’re pretty.”
“Huh…?”
That remark left Belle speechless. Benedictine, however, pointed at her with annoyance and started ranting like she was spewing out all the resentment she’d bottled up so far.
“You’re free is what you are. Free from beauty and ugliness. Any race has its own idea of these, and men and women all base their standards on that. But you… If you want to become beautiful, you can be beautiful as you are, and you can become ugly just the same. You’re so weightless. Light. Free. You have strength and weakness within you. And people like Adonis and me, who can’t help but be drawn to you, we all want to find a way inside you. So we cling to your appearance. We try to break you or protect you. We want to touch what’s within you. That’s how big an influence you have on the world just by being here. It’s frustrating. But you’re like a flower to be admired; you go around, smiling selfishly without a care in the world for what the people watching you think. And with flowers like that, you have to see them wither before you’re satisfied.”
“Oh, come on…” Overwhelmed by Benedictine’s outburst, Belle was almost in tears. “It’s hard on me, too. I don’t know how to react to hearing that.” Her tone turned fawning and displeased.
“I know that.” Benedictine jerked her chin away peevishly. “But if there’s one thing I have to tell a woman like you, it’s that being validated by a man isn’t the only way to be a woman. You have so many reasons to be a woman hidden inside you, but you never try to use any of them. So you can… You can put them to use while still being yourself, and it won’t hurt you one bit.”
“What’s wrong…?” Belle asked, confused. “I don’t understand why you’re getting angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
“Yes, you are.”
Benedictine pointed at Belle fixedly with a very sober gesture. “Anyway, it’s not your fault,” she said, reaffirming her earlier conclusion.
“But…”
“I don’t know why you have such a hard time forgiving yourself, but this is one point I just won’t agree with. To be brutally honest, this pure, naive act you’re putting on is annoying. If you’re the victim here, at least act the part.”
This made Belle frown. “That’s awful, what you just said. You’re just twisting the knife.”
“Well, serves you right. Because that’s what you’re doing.”
“You’re the worst.”
Belle hung her head, sulking, then bit her lips and frowned, trying to restrain an emotion surging up inside her. Benedictine looked straight at Belle, then gently—and oddly enough, warmly—enveloped Belle in her arms.
Belle tried to say something, make a joke, but nothing came out. Her throat trembled, and like a sob, her voice got caught in her throat.
“I told Adonis to go on a Journey with me…”
“Yes.”
“And he said that if it was with me, a Journey would be fun.”
“Yes, I imagine it would. Absolutely.”
“And because I was lonely…I hated feeling that loneliness and wanted to run away, so I ended up sacrificing Adonis.”
“That’s not true.”
“No, it is. If I’d have gone on a Journey with Adonis, I’d have ended up dominating and killing him. I’d have done as I pleased. I’d have been just like that God, driving Adonis to do whatever I wanted.”
“That’s only because you’re too attentive to other people’s feelings. Even if he did think that way about you, it’s not your fault. If he couldn’t do it, he could have just said no to begin with. I swear, that guy…”
“Adonis came to me for help.”
“Yes, he did, but…”
“But I never came to check what tormented him so much…”
“So what? That makes it all your fault? And even if it’s not your fault, you think that justifies him trying to have sex with you? I swear, I don’t know what to do with you. You’re like a child when it comes to this. It’s mind-boggling. You just said it yourself, you know. The real reason.”
“…What real reason?”
“If real is a bad choice of words, I’ll say it whichever way you want. The true reason. The other reason. The reason you wanted to go on a Journey with him?”
“I…”
Belle fell silent again. The feelings flooded her heart so much it felt like they might tear her apart. And for the first time, Belle truly faced that feeling. She raised her voice in a shout, overwhelmed by the rush of emotion. She felt like she would lose it if she didn’t, but what came out was a pained whimper. Benedictine reached out, placing a palm on Belle’s cheek. The scales on the back of her hand glittered silver in the sunlight, the tears streaking down Belle’s cheeks dripping one by one onto her hand as she nodded, prompting Belle to go on.
“I’m lonely.”
“Yes.”
“I’m so lonely it drives me crazy. I feel like I’ll die from loneliness.”
“Yes.”
“I’m scared. It hurts. I’m all alone. No one’s there to help me. Why…? Why isn’t there someone, just one person who’ll be my support? Why can’t someone save me? Why am I so alone? Why can’t I ever—”
How could she describe it? The state of her heart. What had she been told that one time?
“That unrelenting feeling inside you is something I’d call…”
What took form in her heart were words someone irreplaceable to her once said, a word she was finally about to draw on.
“—do something about this homesickness?” Benedictine softly caressed Belle’s cheek and patted her head encouragingly, as if to praise her for being able to say it. “Someone somewhere told me this once… To think of home, to long for utopia, to be unable to love both myself and the place I’m in, to keep wandering, lost…”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Unable to open the Door of Journey…because if I would open it, I’d just be lonely forever. Why? Why is it every time I try to know myself, I have to be so alone? I’m always lost, and alone, and even though I know that so many people try to help me, it’s never enough…”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I’m just…”
“Come now. Say it.”
“I…”
“Go on.”
“It’s…not my fault?”
“Yes, that’s right. Go on, say it right.”
“It’s not my fault.”
Belle whispered, and then her hand naturally reached out, grabbing Benedictine’s arm.
“It’s not my fault! Because I…I…!”
“Yes, that’s right, that’s absolutely right. And where are you headed?”
“I…I’m going to search, for my real Reason…”
“Yes.”
“To do something about this homesickness, I’m going to…”
“That’s right. You’re going to go on a Journey. You’ll become your own individual, following your own Thema. Right?”
“Yes. Exactly. That’s right.” Belle nodded over and over, clinging to Benedictine. “I have to do it. Doing that…is the only way I can live.”
“I know.”
“I’m going on a Journey.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m…going to become a Nomad!”
At that moment, the hard, dry shell encasing Belle’s heart cracked open and shattered. Things she didn’t want to see and emotions she didn’t want to feel flooded back into her. She groaned. Sucking in a lungful of air, she spat out the words, sobbing all the while.
“A Journey…!”
“That’s right. Go on, Belle. We have no choice but to stay and live in this land… But we, too, believe and pray for what you’ll find at the end of your Journey. So one day, we’ll be able to share them. Stories of our respective journeys,” Benedictine murmured calmly, holding Belle in a soothing embrace.