Chapter 92: Charlotte and Friends

The door to the room shut with a dull thud.

It had been dark at first, but the moment I stepped inside, the lights flickered on, revealing everything.

It looked like something out of a prison.

Gray, lifeless walls and ceiling stretched around me, furnished only with the bare minimum. There wasn’t even a toilet in sight.

The person I had come for lay on the bed shoved into the corner.

Blue hair spilled over the edge of the mattress, her back turned toward me.

—In a few strands, there was a faint glint of light blue.

"Trichel!"

Worried, I rushed over at once.

She wasn’t moving. I reached the side of the bed and quickly touched her body—cold.

"No… no, this isn’t real, right?"

That person earlier had said Trichel was alive. But this—

Tears welled up in my eyes.

"…Still alive. Unfortunately for me, I botched dying."

"Ah! Trichel—!"

She rolled over with a thump. Her face was pale, drained of color, but she was alive—moving. The corners of her lips were slightly upturned, a fragile smile revealing how much pain she was in.

Overcome with relief, I threw myself onto her, hugging her as if to shield her whole body. She sighed and, as if resigned, wrapped her arms around my back.

"Why… why—"

"Yeah, yeah. Honestly, this is exactly why I didn’t want—well, never mind."

She was alive. I could touch her, talk to her.

Finally, it felt real. All the fear I’d been holding back came pouring out, flowing down my face as tears.

Trichel stayed silent, stroking my back until I naturally stopped crying.

"—Done crying yet?"

"…Yes."

"Good."

She tried to act playful, but her tone was weaker than usual. "Can’t talk while you’re crying, you know."

She tapped my back softly—pat, pat—as a signal, and I pulled away, stepping back a little.

Trichel slowly pushed herself up to sit on the bed.

She wavered halfway, and when I tried to steady her, she immediately stopped me with her hand.

"I’m fine, I’m fine. …Just, don’t touch me too much right now, okay?"

"Ah, sorry."

"No, it’s not about you apologizing."

Once she was upright, she took two deep breaths. That seemed to steady her a little.

"Are you feeling that bad?"

"Mm, kind of. Explaining it would be complicated, but it’ll get better with time."

She smiled as if it were nothing, like she was brushing off a heavy cold, trying to reassure me. But even that smile looked painful.

So I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

"…Why did you decide to do this?"

"We talked about it in the dream, remember?"

"No. That’s the reason you did it. What I’m asking is why you wanted to do it."

I’d heard from the start that she’d intended this.

I’d heard she was born for it.

But had she really wanted it herself?

Like Riven had analyzed, she seemed to have accepted failure. Then why start at all? She could have chosen to quit halfway.

"You’re not the kind of person who’d just say, ‘That’s how I was born,’ and leave it at that, are you?"

"You sure know how to talk."

"Because the Trichel I know isn’t like that."

Always easygoing, drifting along, shirking work whenever possible.

Laughing things off, never holding anything too dear.

And a total pervert, constantly using excuses to touch me. She said it was necessary, but I’m absolutely sure she was sneaking in her own motives.

Hearing my verdict, Trichel burst into laughter.

"That’s a pretty harsh evaluation."

"But you always show up when it matters."

Despite everything, she always did the bare minimum.

When it was time to act, she acted. Brilliant but never arrogant.

"And when I needed help, you were there to help me."

"Embarrassing. Having that said to my face."

"Accept it."

"Unreasonable."

She tilted her head back, looking up at the ceiling.

Seeing that, I thought maybe she wasn’t as sick as she looked.

No doubt she was just pushing herself so I wouldn’t worry.

"…If you won’t tell me why, then let me guess."

"Huh?"

"You got tired of it, didn’t you? —Just like I did."

She tried to keep a straight face, but I didn’t miss the flicker in her expression.

Ah. I knew it.

"Only a very small number of people can deceive others, make themselves hated, and feel nothing about it."

Just like me. Like when I poured my heart out to Riven in that dream city.

Wasn’t she the same? Struggling to fulfill her role, then trying to make sure no one would worry about her death by making herself hated. That had to be hell.

And to be born just for that? Impossible. Unforgivable. Not a role any human with emotions should be given.

"No, but… that’s…"

"It must have been hard."

As always, I gently took Trichel’s hand and placed my own over it.

It was still cold. Without her moving, it was easy to mistake her for dead—there was almost no sign of life.

Trichel stared at our joined hands… her lips moved faintly.

"…I really can’t win, huh."

I almost missed the murmur.

"Huh?"

"No, just talking to myself."

She gave a small, evasive smile and shook her head. But the hand under mine squeezed back ever so slightly.

"…Well, yeah. If I don’t sugarcoat it, that might’ve been part of it."

"I knew it."

"But at the core, it’s still different."

With the hand I wasn’t holding, she softly stroked the back of mine. The gesture was filled with unmistakable tenderness.

"I don’t know any other way to live. I’m not someone free to do as I please—no matter how far I go, I’m still one of the White’s kin."

"So that’s why you didn’t run away?"

"…Yeah. Maybe I could have. But I was scared of running away itself. Scared because I had no value, no meaning, anywhere else."

That kind of nothingness made her afraid she might not deserve to exist at all.

Hearing that, I hesitated for a moment, unsure what to say. It felt like there must be the right words, but I couldn’t find them. My thoughts turned into a mess—and before I knew it, I had headbutted Trichel.

"Huh? What?!"

"Ow! Your head’s way too hard!"

"No, wait—what?"

She was completely thrown off by the sudden attack.

I’d wanted to smack her, but both my hands were occupied, so this was the only option.

"That’s what you get for saying stupid things!"

Ah, forget it.

I’d already let everything out.

"What do you mean you’re worthless?! That’s ridiculous!"

I didn’t believe life needed value to be lived. But just saying that wouldn’t reach her.

So instead, I shouted out her value.

"First off, you’re an amazing magician. Your combat skills are outstanding."

"Well, I was trained that way."

"You’re even quietly good at cleaning rooms."

"Doesn’t it bother you when things aren’t tidy?"

She always acted lazy, but in the little things she was surprisingly meticulous.

She kept time, too—always five minutes early to meetings. That’s rare for an adventurer.

"And above all! You’re my friend, and I need you! What more do you need?!"

If we’re talking about “value,” then it isn’t something you decide alone. It exists because of others.

I need her. Someone needs her. That alone gives her value.

If life really needs value, then I’ll be the one to give it. Because I’m alive, I’ll declare that she has value too.

That’s what friends are for.

Caught off guard, Trichel’s eyes widened. She blinked a few times, defenseless.

She seemed to need a moment to digest my words.

Then she smiled—a real smile this time, free of sorrow, straight from the heart.

"Honestly, Charlotte-chan, you’re such a charmer."

"That’s not true. I’m only nice to people close to me."

"Are you sure? Our guild says you’re a softie."

"That’s definitely Reynard spreading rumors! I’m onto him, you know!"

Lighthearted chatter.

Ah, she’s okay now.

If she’s anxious, I’ll be here. If she’s afraid, I’ll stay by her side.

As long as I’m alive, I can ease her fears. If she searches for value, I’ll give it to her.

It might be arrogant. But if that’s what’s needed, I’ll do it.

Because I’m selfish!

"…Sorry. And… thank you."

"You’re welcome! But don’t you dare ever do something like this again!"

"If I tried again, I don’t think I’d make it. It was really brutal."

Yeah. I heard her apology. I accepted it.

That settled this whole incident.

I’d planned to scold her, but it didn’t feel right anymore.

Well, we covered the whole “value” thing—close enough. What mattered was that she was alive.

"Anyway, Trichel’s safe, so… can you stand? Let’s head back together."

"Ah—yeah. About that…"

"Hm?"

Trichel’s eyes flicked toward the door I had entered from.

Beyond it, Paladam and Riven should still be there.

I didn’t think Riven would lose to that guy, so I’d left him to it… but Paladam hadn’t looked capable of fighting.

"Maybe we should wait a little longer."

"Huh?"

"It’s fine. Once they’re done over there, he’ll come pick us up. Let’s just wait a bit, okay? Besides, I still can’t put much strength in my legs."

I didn’t really get it, but if she said so, then fine.

I sat down beside her, waiting for the door to open.

I tried a bit of healing magic to check her condition, but her body didn’t show any major issues. That was a relief.

…Some time passed, and finally the door opened.

The one who came in was Riven—alone.

He spotted us. Our eyes met.

"Huh? Where’s that old man?"

"Ah. Him? He—"

Riven’s gaze shifted to Trichel. I followed and looked at her too.

"—went back."

Went back? Meaning he just finished his business and left?

If the mastermind was going to vanish like that, I should’ve said something! Damn, I missed my chance.

"…I see. I hated him, but—even for someone you hate, there are still things you feel."

"He was your foster parent, right?"

"Yeah. But it can’t be helped. That’s the fate I was given."

Trichel seemed to understand something. Maybe she was a little sad about being abandoned by the one who raised her.

There was nothing more to say. The three of us stood and left the facility together.

—None of us noticed until the very end that Riven was holding a white stone in one hand.