They say that misfortune takes many different forms, but happiness tends to look similar for everyone.
Why is that? When I thought about it and looked deeper, I eventually came to understand.
Happiness meant having everything—money, emotional fulfillment, leisure—nothing lacking, everything in abundance.
And as people lose these things one by one, they tumble into unhappiness.
What was lost, and how did that loss create unhappiness?
Such misfortune must arise when something a person considers important is missing from their life.
By that definition, my life had been a continuous stream of happiness.
I could say I had always been happy.
But I was on the verge of experiencing loss.
And what's more, I was already wearing an expression of partial resignation in the face of this impending loss.
Kanna.
She told me with a slightly clouded smile.
"I just want you to be happy—" she said.
She tried to brush it off afterward with a playful tone, but I was worried about her state of mind, concerned whether she could properly face tomorrow.
Happiness? What does one need to do to be happy?
A deficiency was about to enter the life I had already considered happy.
When Kanna might die beside me, when she could be taken somewhere and killed without me being able to protect her, could I still be happy if I just let that happen?
No, would I even deserve to be happy if I abandoned her like that?
"I have to be happy."
I didn't particularly think happiness required qualifications.
It was always something you could feel by finding satisfaction wherever you were.
But if I ran away from something I could protect, if I turned a blind eye and deaf ear while Kanna lost not just her limbs but her life, that would truly be my fault.
Even if her death wasn't directly my fault, simply watching it happen would make me responsible.
I wished for her to live peacefully.
To not have to worry about whether she would survive tomorrow.
Did Kanna know that she was included in the happiness she wished for me?
Happiness found after abandoning someone couldn't be true happiness.
That's why I had no intention of abandoning Kanna.
As I firmed my resolve and closed my mouth, Kanna seemed satisfied with my response and gave me a smiling glance.
I wanted to see that smile.
Just as Kanna had once told me, I too wanted her to smile.
Satisfied, Kanna started walking again and lifted her head to look toward the Wall.
Now the world knew about her knowledge.
About Totems, and how Mysterious Persons could use Totems to destroy the Wall.
Though it wasn't entirely clear, people were showing minimal trust in her words, thinking, "We should be cautious, just in case."
Even that much was enough to say she had influence.
After all, it meant redefining the action protocols for heroes across all cities nationwide.
It couldn't be helped. With Mysterious Persons attacking like that, it would be difficult not to believe her.
But still, was there any reason to do this to Kanna's limbs? If her body served a similar function to these Totems, did they think it better to cut her apart?
As I cycled between worry and anger, Kanna's voice brought me back to reality.
"...Yoon Ha-min."
"Yes?"
"Never mind, I'll tell you later."
But when I regained my focus and looked at her, Kanna ended the conversation dismissively, as if it were nothing.
I was curious, but she seemed to be contemplating whether to say something serious, so I didn't want to press her.
She said she'd tell me later, so I could just wait until the end.
As I was thinking about various things, a question that had been on my mind suddenly surfaced.
"Kanna, can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
She turned her head slightly, as if she hadn't expected me to ask right away, and her violet eyes caught my attention.
After studying those purple irises carefully, I voiced the question I'd been harboring.
"You've always acted like you know things. Is it an ability? Or something else... Actually, more than that, how much do you know? I'm just curious about what and how much you know."
Information that seemed like she had seen it in the future.
The source wasn't clear. It just felt like she had seen it somewhere. When I tried to dismiss it with "Maybe that's just how it is," I couldn't bring myself to question further.
That's why I asked a slightly different question instead of asking about the source, knowing I'd only get evasive answers from Kanna.
A question about what and how much she knew.
It might sound like nonsense, but her words always turned out to be accurate.
Even if she made up strange stories as a joke, they somehow seemed plausible enough to believe.
Kanna frowned as if troubled.
She placed her hand lightly on the Wall.
She tilted her head as if she couldn't feel anything, then answered my question.
"Why?"
"...Just curious. If you know such things in advance, we could prepare for them. Like that new type of monster before..."
Honestly, Kanna had no obligation to do anything like that.
After fighting hard with information no one else had, all she got was the loss of her limbs.
Having experienced such loss, she might not want to give any more leverage to those who caused it.
I could try to reassure her that I'm different, that I wouldn't do that, but I didn't want to pressure her if she didn't want to share.
As I waited silently for her answer while walking beside her, Kanna, who had been walking at a steady pace, showed willingness to speak.
"Really? But I don't know much anymore."
"Anything is fine. Even things others don't know... something like that."
"But then you wouldn't know if it's true or not."
"...I don't think you'd lie. I can believe everything you say."
My heart ached seeing Kanna hesitate to speak because she couldn't prove her words.
Of course, it was natural for the world not to believe without evidence.
Still, I thought at least one person could believe without evidence, without requiring anything in return.
Nevertheless, Kanna remained firm.
As if she already knew that if she couldn't prove it, she wouldn't bother mentioning it, she said something else instead.
"Then can I tell you something you might already know?"
"But then you could just know everything."
What would be the point of that?
"How about something you can verify right away?"
"There's nothing like that."
Kanna was resolute.
I was curious about what kind of knowledge she had that couldn't be immediately verified.
As my curiosity grew like a balloon being inflated, I felt that balloon suddenly pop.
Her words gave me that sensation.
"Yoon Ha-min, child beloved by the stars. It's recorded as light, but that's just one aspect of your original ability... right?"
A chill ran down my spine.
Was it this chilling to hear information I had never told anyone come from someone else's lips?
"H-how..."
I was speechless. It felt like something had slammed on the brakes in my throat.
As my voice caught and I couldn't say anything, Kanna stopped walking and looked at me.
It felt like someone was thoroughly examining my hidden places.
Of course, she had only mentioned my ability, so I shouldn't feel that exposed, but I had kept my ability extremely secret, certain that no one knew about it.
Neither my classmates, nor teachers, nor even heroes who fought closely with me knew about my ability, yet one person had figured out its true nature.
That person being Kanna made me shrink back at the thought that she might know even more.
Though I had lived honestly, the idea that someone knew everything about me was somewhat uncomfortable.
This was a sensation I couldn't help feeling, separate from my feelings toward Kanna.
Shuddering, I composed myself and asked again.
"How did you know...?"
Kanna was silent for a moment, then quietly answered.
"I saw it."
"Huh?"
"I know because I saw it."
Where and what did she see? As I was about to ask another question, I let out a small "Ah" of realization.
That small exclamation made me understand something.
The Totems, the monsters' weaknesses, my ability—were they all derived from that?
"I see."
I nodded silently.
The feeling of having my every corner examined that I had felt until just now was gone.
Kanna remained silent. She looked as if she regretted revealing something unnecessary.
I didn't want her to keep the information she alone knew bottled up inside, so I acted nonchalant.
"Kanna, shall we head back? I think we've gone far enough."
"Should we?"
"What should we have for dinner..."
As we walked back, I glanced at Kanna beside me.
I wondered what world was being painted in those eyes that seemed lost in thought.
I wanted to stay by her side, thinking she might be afraid of seeing a different world all alone.