The next day, a light rain fell over Maple Town, only stopping by morning.
The crisp coldness of rain-washed air lingered, the cobblestone paths were damp, and water droplets clung to the maple leaves. Occasionally, a drop or two would slide off the tips of the leaves, hitting the windowsill with a soft, crisp patter.
When Esper pushed open the window, a gust of cold wind rushed in, carrying the scent of damp earth mixed with fallen leaves.
She thought to herself that autumn in Maple Town still smelled exactly the same as it had ten years ago.
Rafina arrived about fifteen minutes earlier than their agreed time.
When she pushed the door open and entered, she was holding a paper bag containing a few pieces of freshly baked chestnut cake.
She mentioned she had bought them from the old bakery at the entrance of the town, and that it was still the same owner as before.
She spoke casually, as if chatting about some trivial daily matter, before placing the chestnut cakes in front of her.
“Have a piece as well. The taste is a bit different from before—perhaps the owner's lost his touch?”
“...Yes.”
Esper nodded, but Laplace's Demon activated its analysis at the exact same time.
The chestnut cake's ingredients, composition, and contents were instantly dismantled into countless lines of data, flooding into her mind...
It was just chestnut cake.
Esper's eyes trembled slightly. She picked up a piece of the chestnut cake and ate it in a few bites.
The taste was indeed different from before.
Rafina nodded with a smile, then opened her folder and spread the joint combat plan they had half-organized yesterday across the table.
The discussion continued.
From the mana replenishment cycle in the Abyss environment to the transmission methods of evacuation signals, she had prepared detailed written explanations for every single point.
Whenever Esper raised an objection, she would look down to refer to the documents before offering her suggestions for correction.
Her tone was steady, and her attitude was professional. From beginning to end, not a single word unrelated to tactics was spoken.
Then, when they reached the supply line allocation plan, Rafina said, “Regarding this, I thought about it again last night.”
Midway through her sentence, her voice suddenly cut off.
Esper looked up.
A drop of dark-red liquid fell onto the spread-out document, blooming into a small, dark flower on the surface of the parchment.
Then came a second drop, and a third. Rafina's lips were tightly pursed, yet dark-red blood still seeped from the corners of her mouth, trickling down her jawline and dripping onto the table.
She raised her hand to wipe it away, but her hand trembled so violently she could barely lift it.
Her small horns, translucent like white crystal, were beginning to show extremely fine cracks spreading from their bases.
With every fraction of a millimeter those cracks deepened, her shoulders trembled more violently, yet she did not make a single sound.
She merely bit her lip with all her might, trying to suppress the oncoming wave of intense pain.
She managed to suppress it, but her body swayed, and she nearly collapsed onto the table.
“Fina!”
Esper caught her before she could fall.
The table was pushed forward half an inch by Esper's knees, and the documents on top were crumpled. The sheet of paper that had just been soiled by Rafina's blood was now mottled with dark red.
Rafina leaned in Esper's arms, her eyes closed. Her breathing was rapid and chaotic, her chest heaving violently several times before she finally managed to steady herself.
“...Cough... I-I'm fine... Esper...”
She opened her eyes and forced a smile, though it was slightly distorted by pain.
Her tail was still wagging, but the movement had visibly weakened, like a flag trapped in the wind, flapping feebly.
“...Your curse...”
“It's fine... It just suddenly happens like this. There've been too many things to handle lately, so the flare-ups have been a bit more frequent. But it hasn't reached the point where... I need help, like Teacher back then. Cough, cough...”
She coughed up the last bit of stagnant blood pooling in her throat, then raised her other hand to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
After wiping it away, she sat upright in her chair again, gently pushed the blood-stained document aside, and pulled a blank piece of parchment from her folder.
“...I'm sorry to have shown you such an embarrassing sight. This document is ruined, so I will copy it out for you again. I remember everything we just discussed; it won't take long.”
Blood was still seeping from the corner of her mouth, trickling down her jawline and dripping onto her dark gray dress, blooming into one dark red flower after another. Yet the hand holding her pen was already moving.
Esper's eyelids twitched.
She recalled a certain afternoon long ago, when Gloom had collapsed on the ground—how panicked Rafina had been, and how lost she herself had felt.
“...Do you want to wipe that?”
Esper felt as if she had turned into a wall, and now she heard her own voice coming from behind it.
She slid her handkerchief over. When her fingers brushed against Rafina's fingertips, she suddenly felt a cold pulsation.
A coldness that spread from the darkness, one that did not belong to Rafina herself.
She frowned, but said nothing.
“...Thank you...”
Rafina took the handkerchief and lowered her head to wipe away the bloodstains from her lips.
Her movements were very gentle, as if she were afraid of dirtying the handkerchief.
After wiping, she folded the handkerchief neatly, pressed it under the corner of the table, and did not return it.
“...Your curse is already this severe...”
“...It's fine. It only flares up occasionally, really not that often. This time was probably because I didn't...”
She did not finish her sentence, merely swallowing her words and lowering her head to continue copying.
Her handwriting was still neat, every line perfectly aligned without any trace of trembling.
Only the occasional blot of ink spreading on the parchment betrayed the fact that the hand holding her pen had never truly steadied.
As Esper stared at her profile while she copied, she suddenly felt a strong urge to ask her a question.
If it causes you this much pain, why do you still want to be the Demon King?
But then she remembered.
She had already answered this question long ago.
On the day Gloom first taught her how to use the Crimson Blood Technique, on the training grounds of Gloom Castle, she had said, “Lonia, I want to become the Demon King.”
She said she finally understood why the people in those books did what they did. It wasn't just for a grand cause or out of nobility; most importantly, they had someone they wanted to protect. They wanted that person to live a better life, and they wanted to see that person smile to their heart's content.
Then, she had wrapped her arms around Lonia, pulling her into an embrace. Her tail had coiled around Lonia's waist as she said she wanted to live together with her in a Utopia free of war and pain.
That was why she wanted to become the Demon King. Even if she had to handle endless work, deal with all sorts of difficult people, and bear the curse of the Demon King, she still insisted on becoming the Demon King.
All for that precious, important person she wanted to protect.
Now, that important person she wanted to protect sat right across from her, looking at the residual blood on the corner of her mouth, looking at the handwriting she was trying her hardest to keep steady, and looking at her tail which was still wagging but with growing difficulty. And like a wall, Esper said nothing more.
Esper's fingernails dug deeply into her palms.
Once Rafina had earnestly and efficiently copied the final line, she gently blew on the ink to dry it, then pushed the parchment in front of Esper.
“There, it is exactly the same as the original.”
She smiled at her, then lowered her head to look at the next document. Esper stared at the freshly copied supply line plan. The handwriting was still neat, showing no signs of hesitation. Only the period at the end of the last line was slightly heavier than usual; the ink had paused there for a fraction of a second, leaving a tiny smudge.
Then, she lowered her eyes.
She wanted to say, You really don't have to do this.
Did you stay up late again last night? How many government affairs do you still have to handle after you return? Is there really no way to cure your curse?
I haven't found a way to lift your curse. I wanted to find one, but I couldn't.
But in the end, she said nothing.
So they continued their discussion, moving on to study the next document.
Outside the window, the maple leaves still swayed in the wind. Occasionally, one or two would break free from the branches, swirling down onto the wet cobblestone path.
In the brief moments between turning pages, Rafina carefully folded the blood-stained handkerchief and slipped it into her sleeve. Esper pretended not to see.
They continued their discussion until everything that needed to be addressed had been covered.
“That is roughly all of it. Esper, if you find no issues with this, I will take my leave.”
“...That's fine.”
“Let's leave it at that, then. Thank you for your hard work today, Esper. I will bid you farewell.”
“...Wait.”
Rafina had already stood up.
Her chair had been pushed back a few inches, but her hands were still resting on the edge of the table, as if she were making sure she could stand steadily on her own.
Yet there was no sign of weakness on her face. She simply waited quietly and patiently for whatever Esper had to say.
“...When is the next time?”
“Well, it will probably be some time. It takes a while to compile topics that warrant discussion. Of course, if you wish, you can also convey your request through Pope Beatrice, and I will come to meet you once I have finished handling all my affairs.”
“...Oh.”
She nodded.
“Then, goodbye.”
And then, she saw Rafina give her a gentle, soft smile.
A smile that looked incredibly soft.
The exact same heartfelt tenderness she had felt in the past, which she had experienced again over the last few days of their time together.
It was a smile she thought she would never see again after everything that had happened.
“See you next week, Esper. Take care on the road.”
“...You too. Take care on the road.”
The door closed. Esper stood in place, staring at the shut wooden door.
She reached into her pocket and gripped the maple hairpin.
Gripping it as tightly as she had once held someone's hand.
Rate on N.U.
