I don't know when or how long I've been asleep.
The sensation of the bed beneath me, supporting my weight, feels slower and fainter than ever before.
The fluttering blanket and the pillow touching my head are surely softer than the monastery basement floor, the hard pews in the prayer room, or even the sofa at Ain's house.
They should be more comfortable than the bed I used to secretly lie on or press my nose against to smell the fabric whenever Ain left the house.
But still, everything remains endlessly faint.
It's not just because the lights in the room are off.
Even if the wall lamps lit this place up like daylight, they couldn't make this strange floating sensation disappear.
—Creak
I can only infer what I'm seeing and hearing.
It's as if dust has settled over my five senses.
A thread of faint blue, like hydrangeas, approaches me.
"Get up."
A straight beam of light seeps into the room.
Someone unfamiliar yet present in my memory stands before me.
Then I hear a voice that's also in my memory.
A voice I've heard in the Academy prayer room.
It's Ain's sister, Iris.
It's drier than any voice I've ever heard.
Not the trembling voice that worried about Ain in front of the prayer room, but the voice she used when others were watching—it seems to be calling me.
"Can't you hear me? I said get up."
Her tone and emotions are quite rough. She seems angry with me.
I want to ask why, but the dust seems to have settled on my mouth too.
Dust as heavy as a thousand pounds.
My body is lifted from the bed.
Iris, seen up close, looks very different from my memory.
Those beautiful eyes like Ain's and those cherry-colored lips, now look like hardened earth after rain.
Is she tired?
I wish I could give her a Blessing, but my body only continues to be led around by her hand.
I pass through the corridors of an unfamiliar building, held by Iris's hand.
Numbers written on each door, the faces of female students in uniforms pass by me.
Is this the dormitory I've only heard about?
I still can't remember how I ended up here.
Iris walks ahead of me, pushing through them with footsteps that still seem angry.
The students look at me and whisper something.
Words similar to what I occasionally heard when someone passed by me at the Academy, before I was expelled.
Outside, the rain hasn't stopped yet.
Thunder used to terrify me so much, but now I feel nothing.
My vision just brightens for a moment, then turns pitch black like Ain's hair color, over and over.
A hand pushes me into some place and forces me to sit.
I hear the sound of a door closing, and then the place where I'm sitting starts to creak.
This is my first time riding in a carriage.
Iris's eyes, sitting across from me, are fixed on me without moving.
Her clear gaze doesn't blink even once.
It's an emotion I've known since before coming to the Empire. Probably hatred.
I seem to have done something terribly wrong that I can't remember.
Those eyes that softened in front of Ain and hardened before others—
now they're hot and sharp like a freshly forged sword.
I don't know how much time has passed.
The carriage jolts once, and Iris roughly throws the door open.
White rectangular things are sprouting all over the ground.
Only rain and wind blow through this empty lot that no one visits.
It's the public cemetery on the outskirts. I remember being here.
This is where vagrants and those without connections were buried.
It's not a place where funerals or memorial processions are held or continue.
A cemetery so quiet it's as if no one exists except Iris and me.
I think I hear rustling sounds beneath my feet.
Probably from the unmanaged weeds and stones being kicked.
Held by Iris's hand, I walk and walk along the path through the public cemetery.
We arrive at the most secluded corner of the outskirts cemetery, in front of a stone tombstone with nothing written on it.
—Thud
Iris pushes me from behind, knocking me down.
My face is pressed against the blank tombstone.
The stone, glistening wet from rain, fills my vision.
"Are you satisfied?"
What is she asking if I'm satisfied about?
If it's a question about the time I spent with Ain, then yes.
I want to confidently answer that it was the most precious time of my life.
"Are you finally satisfied now that my brother is dead?
He died keeping up with your grand Saintess act.
Ain. My brother. Ain Magnolia.
My brother whom I carried on my back, fed, and put to sleep since he was a baby, a snotty-nosed kid—he's dead.
Do you still not understand? What's with that stupid expression? Can you even hear me?
He's dead. Ain is dead. Gone forever. Ripped out of this world."
The hand lifts from the top of my head.
But instead, my head bows down, my forehead resting against the tombstone.
A tombstone colder than my cold forehead.
A tombstone with no flowers, no letters, nothing offered to it.
What is Iris saying?
Why would there be any reason for Ain to die?
Even looking at the tombstone again, nothing comes to mind.
It's as if my memories have been cut with scissors.
Scissors wielded wildly without following any seam line.
I hear Iris's voice again from behind me.
"That crazy bitch Giselle had to go and die too, how unlucky.
After she was the one who abandoned him. After causing Ain such deep wounds.
After putting Ain through such hardship.
Why, after leaving only some strange incomprehensible words as a will, why!!"
My shoulder is grabbed and I'm made to face Iris.
She still doesn't seem to have calmed down.
I wish I could share even a little of my heart, which resembles this tombstone.
"You're the only one who should have died. Why did you drag Ain into it?
You possessed everything. Why did you want to share even the moment of death?
That's greed. I can't understand at all that the only thing Ain left behind is someone like you.
Yes. It's all your fault. Everything happened because of you.
Ain died because of you. He survived the war.
Tell me. How did you seduce Ain? What did you do to bewitch him?
A nun, no less. Someone who knew him for such a short time compared to me.
Why was Ain found dead lying on top of you? Answer me. Hurry.
I said answer me. Stop staring with those empty eyes."
Even though she keeps telling me to answer, I don't remember.
Whenever something tries to surface, it sinks back down.
If apologizing would calm her, I'd do it as many times as needed.
"If only you hadn't existed, if only you. If only you hadn't existed. If only Giselle hadn't existed."
She keeps mentioning the name of someone I don't know.
Could it be another family member of Ain's?
He definitely said he had nowhere to return to.
But look, she's this angry for Ain's sake.
Iris is shaking my body with forceful hands like this.
"Bring him back. Please bring him back. Don't Blessings have something like that?
You just need to revive Ain alone. I won't ask for much.
You, no. Sister. Ah, please... bring Ain back... okay...?"
There isn't. I've been taught all along that when you die, you return to dust.
Just as lost arms, legs, eyes, and body parts cannot be restored.
I've been taught that souls are singular and therefore precious.
"Ah, Ain.... I'm, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.... No, actually. Everything, everything was my....
Eve, everything was my... Big, Big Sis's.... Big Sis's... fault.... It, it wasn't anyone else's fault, it was Big Sis's...."
Iris's voice has become like when she stood before Ain.
I thought it was thunder, but it was her voice, which had been getting smaller, suddenly bursting out.
She's crying. The wailing doesn't diminish, only grows louder.
"I'm, I'm sorry.... If, if... Big, Big Sis... hadn't... sent you... home....
Into, into the rain... like that... if I... hadn't sent you....
I, I should have held on tighter.... Fa, Father and Mother... didn't matter....
Things like family... actually... have no meaning....
I just, just... like when we were young.... When, when Ain was little....
That, that's all... all I wanted.... I'm sorry.... I'm sorry...."
I remember how Ain cried in the confessional.
She said that in the prayer room, but they really are siblings—they're alike.
Without realizing it, I wiped away the tears flowing down her cheeks with my hand.
"No, no.... It, it was... from... much earlier....
Much, much earlier.... I, I should have taken better care....
I'm, I'm sorry.... Sister.... I'm sorry....
Ain, Ain.... Be, because of... me...."
Iris's hand covers mine.
Her weakened hand is now just cold.
Yes, I've been thinking the same thing, Iris.
Because I was inadequate, I couldn't fill what Ain needed.
I remembered. The image of Ain crying above me, asking for forgiveness.
Apologizing over and over for sins never committed, never done.
I remembered that body embracing me, wearing wet clothes I'd never seen before.
I should have taken better care, should have made him happier during our time together.
If given another chance, I'd gladly do so, as many times as possible, to the extent of my strength.
When Ain is abandoned again, I should be a place he can always find.
"Since, since I've entrusted Ain to you... you, you won't be... un, uncomfortable staying there....
I'll, I'll also... treat you... as, as much as I can...."
But unlike Iris and Ain, nothing flows from my eyes.
It should have been a gold-plated heart that even the monastery director praised.
It should have been a heart with a more sparkling spirit than anyone's.
That person's withered heart has finally burrowed into my chest, it seems.