Chapter 100: A misunderstanding that feels like an encounter.

I remember it over and over.
I see it in dreams again and again.
The revulsion of that day, the fury, the hatred, the grudge.
No matter how much I crush them, no matter how much I grind them into paste, it is never enough.
A past that should never have existed anywhere in this world clings to me forever.
If this is a curse, if this is the price, then it is terrifyingly accurate.
Even I cannot imagine a more effective way to rot my own soul.

The day Violet was dragged into hell.
The moment the fools, unaware of their own sins, forced every last one of them onto her alone.
The moment I felt ashamed for unconsciously believing in a god, and learned the worthlessness of a self that could do nothing.

I decided I would never forgive this world.

×　×　×　×

Why does a smile tinged with self-mockery feel so natural on him?

Even Rosette, who knows almost nothing about Yulan, finds it perfectly in place.
It is utterly removed from the oppressive aura he wore moments ago.
The eyes half-hidden beneath his forelock look somehow hollow, yet at the same time they gleam with a fierce, irritated hunger.
I wonder if this is what the eyes of a devil or the grim reaper would look like; golden, dark, clouded, shining with desire.
They say gold is a sacred color in this country, but Rosette thinks she will never again be able to associate these eyes with purity.

“I’ve learned what I needed to know… I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“…Eh?”

He paid no attention to Rosette, left speechless by his sudden shift, and spoke in the same flippant tone he had arrived with.
He had apparently lost all interest in her from the bottom of his heart.
He turned away without the slightest aftertaste.
The last thing she saw was the mask already perfectly reapplied; a smile so flawless it made her doubt whether the version she had just faced had been real.

He didn’t even bother with a gag order; not because he felt no need, but because Rosette had no bargaining chips left.
Compared to her near-total lack of information on Yulan, he had clearly investigated her exhaustively.
The very fact that he knew about the “engagement” that was meant to remain secret said everything.

She didn’t fully understand, but he had apparently suspected her on his own, then satisfied himself on his own.
There was no need to call him back or say anything more.
Honestly, he was not the kind of person she wanted to involve herself with any further.

“…Does Vio-sama understand him?”

From the way he spoke, they must be quite close.
Or perhaps he unilaterally believed they were; either way, given the danger he radiated, both possibilities were troubling.
Ideally she would gently suggest Violet reconsider her circle of friends, but that would make her earlier words boomerang right back at her.

Outsiders have no right to interfere in their affairs.
Worry and anxiety, without an explicit SOS, are nothing but self-satisfaction; she had just engraved that lesson into her heart while watching Yulan, overdressed in excess.

(Terrifying… is not quite the right word.)

He carried a pressure that made one want to step back, a weight that stiffened the body.
It was madness; the sense that he might vault over the railing and plunge into the abyss at any moment.

Yet she could not simply label him an object of fear.
Perhaps because, behind his confidence, she had glimpsed self-loathing.

He was not someone she could ever let her guard down around.
The feeling was mutual.
Two people wary of each other, merely trying to cherish the same person from opposite sides.
Had Violet not existed, not even the thinnest thread would have connected them.

Whether this bond would prove fortunate or eventually become an obstacle;
she would know the answer in the not-so-distant future.