* * *
His intuition is annoyingly sharp.
“Can I say something?”
“You already are.”
I had asked for permission just as a small act of playfulness.
With that mild reaction, could I take it as him indulging me?
But I still wasn’t completely sure if his mood had improved.
I pulled out a chair and sat next to him.
“Smelling bacon for so long made me hungry. Can I have a bite too?”
Last time, he seemed to enjoy feeding me.
Maybe if I let him do something he likes, his mood would improve.
When I opened my mouth and waited, he cut a piece of bacon in half and put it in my mouth.
I asked him to feed me, and the Hero actually did it.
Even though he usually just chomps down on whole strips, he took the time to cut mine neatly in half.
Even though I was the one who suggested it, I couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
It sent shivers down my spine.
And not just because of the salty, savory taste of the bacon hitting my tongue—I was trembling from sheer emotion.
It’s delicious…
Truly delicious.
“Stop cooking and eat your meal first.”
“This much is enough? Isn’t it too little?”
Without a word, he pushed the remaining half of the bacon into my mouth.
Delicious.
I meant to let him do something nice, but wasn’t I the only one enjoying this?
“You barely eat anything anyway. Just eat and finish cooking after.”
The way he said “barely eat anything” was kind of cute.
I wasn’t actually that hungry since I had eaten a sandwich earlier, but since my goal was to improve his mood, I listened to him.
I cooked a few more strips of bacon and fried two eggs before bringing them to the table.
He took my plate.
“Open your mouth.”
“Huh?”
“Are you not eating?”
He’s feeding me again?
It’s not just a single bite—this is my meal.
This is too overwhelming to digest properly.
When I hesitated, his expression darkened. That won’t do.
“I’ll eat.”
Only after I accepted the food did his expression soften.
Now that I think about it, maybe he actually likes taking care of people.
Did he say I needed someone to look after me because he thought I was someone pitiful enough to be worth taking care of?
Is that why he stuck around so long, even cleaning up after Gaspar?
…Why does that bother me?
“What are you thinking?”
I was thinking about how I hope you didn’t take care of Gaspar like this…
Wait, what?!
Why am I even thinking about that?
My heart pounded in panic.
It’s better if he did take care of Gaspar.
That would mean they were close.
I shouldn’t waste time on pointless thoughts.
More importantly, the Hero seems to be in a good mood now, so I need to take my chance.
“…Hey.”
I hesitated, nerves creeping in as I prepared to bring up something he wouldn’t want to hear.
But he just waited patiently.
“Are you… really never going to meet your former master again?”
“…”
The Hero put down his fork.
The clink of metal against the plate echoed ominously in the silence.
“You met him.”
…How did he know?
I only asked one question.
After everything that happened today, wouldn’t it be natural to bring this up?
I wanted to deny it, but his certainty made me uneasy.
Was there some kind of evidence that only he could see?
If I got caught lying, he’d only be more disappointed and angry.
“Why do you think that?”
I asked first.
“Because every time someone meets him, they end up taking his side.”
I haven’t even taken his side yet! I only asked if you’d see him again!
But if everyone sided with Gaspar after speaking to him, didn’t that mean he was persuasive?
He had made a lot of mistakes, but he was still his master.
I didn’t understand why the Hero was so wary of him.
“Isn’t that just because you never tell your side of the story? If people only hear one perspective, of course they’ll be swayed by it.”
His gray eyes narrowed coldly. I flinched.
“They wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
“What? You think they wouldn’t believe what you say?”
Was it because he wasn’t as eloquent as Gaspar?
Or was it because I had doubted him earlier today?
“If the outcome is going to be the same, I don’t want to waste my breath.”
His words sounded utterly resigned. It didn’t suit him.
Even back in Swindlin, so many people were desperate to speak with him.
“I’ll believe you.”
Even without considering those people—
“No matter what you say, I’ll believe you.”
How could I not believe him when he was speaking like this?
He looked at me for a long moment before pushing his unfinished plate to the side.
The Hero, leaving food unfinished?
…He’ll probably eat it later after we finish talking, right?
“Then what about you?”
His eyes were still cold and steady.
“Why don’t you say anything? You must have a reason.”
“I…”
I couldn’t answer.
Because, frustratingly, my reason was the same as the hero’s.
But even though the hero had already told me, “I believe you,” I still couldn’t bring myself to reveal my secret.
The moment I spoke those words, his trust in me would lose all meaning.
“I….”
But how?
How was I supposed to say it?
I still don’t know you.
Even now.
Not at all.
I can respect someone like that, but how can I believe you’ll continue to like me?
“…So you don’t trust me.”
The hero spoke first.
He realized the truth and said it aloud.
I didn’t want him to find out, but he did.
“You don’t trust me either.”
My lips wouldn’t move.
I couldn’t deny it.
Because it was true.
I did believe that the hero was a brave and righteous man, someone with the power to save this world.
But I couldn’t believe that someone as great as him would take my words seriously.
I couldn’t believe that someone like him would truly understand the heart of someone as insignificant as me, let alone tolerate my mistakes.
He was kind, but firm.
Courageous, yet ruthless.
“…I see.”
The hero stood up. I flinched in surprise.
“In the end, if neither of us trusts each other…”
His voice was cold—so cold it felt like my entire body was freezing over.
Slowly, he pulled the ring off his finger.
The one I’d told him suited him.
He placed it next to the empty plate he had pushed aside.
As if he was clearing away everything that had to do with me.
“There’s no need for us to continue this relationship.”
I wanted to believe I had misheard him.
But that wasn’t possible.
There was no way I could have misunderstood words spoken so clearly at this distance.
We had been sitting close together, eating.
“Are you serious?”
My voice trembled despite myself.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the ring, now lying abandoned beside the cold bacon.
But even without asking, I already knew the answer.
His actions said everything.
He had always finished his meals.
But now, he was leaving food behind.
That alone was enough to make me uneasy.
And this—
This was the first dish I had ever successfully cooked.
Until now, he had tasted even my failed attempts, but now, he was discarding something I had finally gotten right.
Along with the ring—the one I had said reminded me of him.
That realization crushed my heart.
The hero was cutting me off.
Everything connected to me no longer held any value. He was leaving me behind.
A dull ringing filled my ears.
His gray eyes were so cold they seemed to frost over my thoughts.
Everything hurt.
* * *
