But that night, I was startled when the girl appeared.
"…." I chose to pretend I was asleep.
"…." The platinum-haired girl didn't leave.
She simply stood beside my bed. In silent without a sound or without any intention of turning away.
As if her presence alone was enough to disturb the entire room.
An hour passed.
And I finally understood one simple thing. I couldn't let this continue.
"What's wrong?" I asked at last.
"Oh—you're awake?" Her voice wavered slightly, like someone who had just been caught doing something they shouldn't.
"Of course," I replied flatly. "No one can sleep while being stared at like that. So… what wrong?"
"Uh… um…" Rurika hesitated for a moment. "I wanted to invite you to play. But you were sleeping earlier, so I thought I'd come back tomorrow…"
She started taking something out of the pouch she was carrying. But I cut her off before she could finish.
"Don't come back again," I said.
"…Huh?" The platinum-haired girl looked startled.
"I mean," I corrected quickly, my breath catching slightly, "just continue what you were doing."
My thoughts had nearly slipped somewhere they shouldn't.
"O-okay…" Rurika nodded softly. "I just wanted to invite you to play and eat snacks together."
"And… I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Somehow, without realizing it, I kept staring at you. It felt like… I was being drawn in." Her voice grew softer, but still clear enough to make her cheeks turn red. "Huh… why? My chest feels like it's pounding, and my face feels hot…"
What?
This time, I cut her off immediately.
"Stop." I covered my eyes with my hand, shutting out the sharpness of my gaze.
"Okay…?" she said, tilting her head.
I let out a slow breath, suppressing something rising in my head. "So… you came here in the middle of the night just to make me listen to that kind of confession?"
This girl was really starting to drive me insane. Even an unclear irritation began surfacing along with it.
"N–no?" Rurika answered, stumbling over her words.
"No? Do you not understand, or are you pretending not to?" I sneered. "You don't even know what your dear aunt did to me… just to make sure I stay away from you."
""This isn't a joke," I said, not bothering to hide the sharpness in my eyes.
I won't deny it—I'm slightly interested in her.
But I hate being controlled by something outside my own control.
I stepped closer.
With barely any distance left between us, my hand moved first—grasping her wrist.
She flinched slightly. But before she could step back, I pulled her gently—just enough to disrupt her balance, just enough to take the ground from beneath her feet.
She fell onto the bed. Not harsh. Not rushed. Just a shift in position that changed the entire situation in a single breath.
"Ah—." Her platinum hair spread across the sheets like spilled light.
I didn't give her time to get up.
With her pale skin, she looked almost fragile—like morning dew that would vanish at the slightest touch. Even the faintest contact made her flush like this.
That urge rose again—and for a moment, I nearly lost control.
…then stopped.
"S-sorry… I…" she said, panic visible in her expression.
"Shh… quiet," I said, pressing my index finger lightly against her lips, soft as if brushed with honey.
Strangely, she fell silent immediately.
So obedient.
I know I'm far from normal. Something inside me reacted—sharp, on the verge of breaking free.
But it wasn't something I needed to explain to her. What mattered now…was that I had to make her "understand".
"Do I look weak enough for you to mess with me?" I scoffed at myself.
The room felt tighter. Something inside me answered. My black nails lengthened, sharpening like blades ready to cut.
"Do you know what I hate the most?" I said again, my finger leaving her lips and sliding to her chin. [Those who try to control me… threaten me… or use me.]
"And do you know how I deal with them?" The corner of my lips lifted. That mask returned—the version of me I thought I had already lost. [How can they tell me to stop… and beg, while I keep doing what they despise?]
"And what happens to people like that in the end?" The memory of their screams and fear blurred the line inside me.
Just a bit more pressure… and crimson would bloom across her.
Hold it in.
And yet… that pink-haired woman—she dares to threaten me, to treat me like this.
They helped me.
"So," I murmured, my finger drifting down to her abdomen without realizing it, "What do you think I should do to you?"
If I took one more step… what would change in that pink-haired woman's eyes?
Then—
I stopped.
A tear slipped from her sky-blue eyes. Strangely, my madness halted—then vanished, just like that.
"Afraid?" I whispered near her ear, the curve of my lips moving on its own.
"No… I'm not afraid." Her voice was soft. "I just… don't understand."
"Don't understand?" I repeated.
"…Why is it that whenever Shoka says something…" She trailed off for a moment, and I found myself waiting for her to continue.
"…you always look more sad… and more hurt?" She gently placed her hand against my cheek.
Her words caught me off guard. So much so that something slipped from my lips before I could stop it.
The word didn't even have time to settle in my mind. "…What?"
"…I'm sorry, Shoka." She apologized suddenly.
Does she even realize who should be the one apologizing?
"I'm… slower than most children when it comes to understanding things.
Others can grasp something after one or two explanations… but I can't." She kept talking, even as I stood there in shock.
"I know that's not a good excuse," she said, looking at me with sincerity—a kind of sincerity I had never received before.
"But… please be patient with me.
Let me fix it. Let me learn from the mistakes I've made." She was asking for my permission.Something that felt… unfamiliar to me.
"I'll try my best not to make Shoka sad or hurt again."
…Pure. She was too pure. From her face, her voice, even her words—I could feel it. Her heart moved in only one direction. Something untainted…yet undeniably warm.
Damn it…
I couldn't move. Couldn't even respond. She had a way of throwing my thoughts—and my control—into complete disarray.
I couldn't let her stay here any longer. "Get out."
"…Did I make you angry?" she asked, panicking.
"No. I'm telling you to leave," I said. But when I saw her expression, my tone softened without me meaning it to. I even found myself explaining, "I don't hate you. I just want to rest. Go back to your room."
Then I noticed her clothes were a mess.
…Tch.
I fixed them—straightening the wrinkles, fastening what had come undone. Yes, this was purely for my own safety.
That insane pink-haired woman would definitely kill me if she saw this. It had nothing to do with feeling guilty toward this girl.
Once I was done, I gently pushed her out past the curtain.
"Can we play cards and have snacks tomorrow night?" she asked.
"…No." The refusal came out, but it didn't sit right. I ended up adding, "During the day only. I'm tired. I rest at night. Go back to your room."
…This isn't like me.
I was even making excuses—something completely ridiculous for an Anathema.
"Okay. See you tomorrow morning, Shoka." She smiled—purely, sincerely—and walked back to her room with light steps.
…Strange. I don't know which of us is the strange one.
Who said idiots aren't dangerous? They're the most dangerous of all.
That face…lingered in my mind. Even after she was gone—
I couldn't erase it.