* * *
Suddenly, I heard someone calling my name from behind.
The weight of the voice stopped me in my tracks.
Isa.
I bit the inside of my cheek as I mulled over the nickname.
I didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.
“…Kaindel.”
I turned around, calling his name.
The tension that had been coiling in my gut suddenly snapped, unraveling in an instant.
The familiar name lingered on the tip of my tongue, bringing an unexpected sense of calm.
Kaindel met my gaze with a strained smile, as if it were on the verge of crumbling.
His eyes, precariously curved, mimicked kindness, though the desperation in them was hard to miss.
It was the Kaindel I knew, yet somehow unfamiliar.
His expression looked as though he might break into tears at any moment.
A faint sense of relief welled up inside me.
It had taken time, but Kaindel had still been waiting for me, standing in the same place.
I had been on my way to see him anyway.
My conversation with the Pope had ended, and now it was time to face Kaindel.
Taking a short breath, I finally spoke.
“It’s only been a few days, but… have you been well?”
“Not… really.”
“…Hm?”
“I haven’t been well. But… I was okay. Isa, what about you?”
Kaindel’s words came slowly, hesitantly, as if each syllable required careful thought.
His voice trembled ever so slightly between pauses.
Even so, he was much more composed than when we met again at the temple after two years apart.
“You look well. That’s a relief.”
His gaze swept over me from head to toe as he murmured those words, as if affirming them to himself.
Even if he hadn’t been okay, the fact that I was seemed to put him at ease.
Perhaps he had already realized, from the look on my face, that I had found what I sought in the capital.
“…Can we talk for a bit?”
“Talk?”
“The conversation we never finished before.”
“Ah.”
Understanding dawned in Kaindel’s eyes.
His pupils, briefly widening, soon wavered with resignation.
As if he had already concluded that whatever I was about to say would be something he wouldn’t want to hear.
He wasn’t entirely wrong.
But he wasn’t entirely right, either.
I didn’t bother correcting him.
Instead, I simply smiled.
To be honest, I just wanted to talk.
We had left things unresolved before—too emotional, too afraid to face the truth.
Now, I wanted to speak openly.
About what our relationship should be.
About what I wanted from this.
About what I hoped Kaindel would do.
“Let’s end this now.”
There had been moments when I didn’t want to return, unsure of how to face Kaindel.
Yet, I still found myself unable to let go completely.
Two years hadn’t been enough to erase my feelings for him.
But that didn’t mean I could pretend nothing had happened.
The times when he had been indifferent to me.
When he had spent time with others so effortlessly, as if I never existed.
Those wounds hadn’t disappeared.
They had been etched into me, like scars that would never fade.
Did I understand Kaindel?
Even if I did, could I forgive him?
And if I forgave him, what then?
Even if we tried again, was there any guarantee that he wouldn’t hurt me in the future?
That I wouldn’t be left with the same wounds all over again?
I had been trapped in those thoughts for so long.
But after my conversation with Letea, I realized something.
The conclusion to a relationship isn’t something one person can decide alone.
One person’s decision shouldn’t define or dictate the fate of two.
That was why, after realizing this, I had wanted to see Kaindel as soon as possible.
Whether this conversation led us to the worst possible ending or an unexpected reconciliation—none of it mattered unless we talked.
No matter how much I thought about this alone, nothing would change.
“…Alright.”
After a long silence, Kaindel let out a short, breathy laugh, shoulders shifting slightly.
As if he already had an idea of what I was about to say.
“Let’s end it.”
His smile carried the weight of resignation.
Kaindel’s room was just as I remembered it.
The only difference was that all the notes—the ones that once carried fragments of his sincerity—were gone.
The box that had been overflowing with them when I first came here was now empty.
“…Did you throw them all away?”
Peering into the box, I tilted my head.
Kaindel glanced at it briefly before pulling out a chair for me.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t like looking at something unfinished.”
“…I liked them, though.”
“…I hated seeing myself unable to string together a single proper sentence.”
“…Is it really something to hate that much? I was always like that around you.”
As I sat down, I ran a hand through my hair.
Back when I had liked Kaindel too much, I could barely speak around him.
I had been so caught up in him that my words came out as incoherent mumblings, more concerned with the pounding of my heart than with forming proper sentences.
How many times had I thirsted for even the smallest of his reactions?
At my casual remark, Kaindel stiffened.
His hand slowly traced his lips, as if replaying his own words.
Regret flickered in his expression.
He must have been thinking, ‘Did I just make another mistake?’
“…Isa.”
“I’m joking. Just sit down already.”
“…”
I grinned lightly, watching as something invisible drained from him.
That ridiculous expression made me chuckle under my breath.
Only when Kaindel finally settled into his seat did I slowly begin.
“…Even if we can’t go back to the way things were, do you still want to be with me?”
“…What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly that, Kaindel. I can’t love you the way I did before. Not to the point where I lose myself in you. I can’t blindly trust you anymore.”
“…”
“Even if we’re together, I’ll probably always have doubts. I’ll feel anxious when you’re with others. I won’t put my faith in your promises anymore.
When I’m alone at night, I won’t long for you—I’ll just mock myself for ending up alone again.
And when we fight, I might bring up every single mistake you’ve made in the past.
Because I’ve never been able to forget any of them.”
I clenched and unclenched my fists, steadying my breath.
“…Even so, do you think we could be happy?”
Wouldn’t it be nice if I could just forget everything and accept him?
If I could let go of the past and start over?
There had been moments when that impulse had tempted me.
Kaindel frowned slightly, his normally smooth brow creasing.
“…Happiness?”
“Yeah. Happiness.”
“…I don’t think we’d be happy.”
“…What?”
“You’d be in pain because of what I did. And I’d be in pain seeing you like that.
That much is obvious.”
“…”
“But even knowing that… I still want to be with you.”
Kaindel cautiously continued speaking, his voice slightly cracked.
His eyelids, closing and reopening with deliberate slowness, carried an inexplicable weight.
It was as if he wanted to show that every word leaving his lips was not just a passing thought but the result of long, agonizing contemplation.
“I know this is selfish of me… Isa, but even if it’s painful, I still want to stay by your side. I don’t know how you feel, and I know I can’t pretend to restore this broken relationship to what it once was. The damage was done by my own hands, after all. But even so, I want to be with you until this pain fades away.”
“……”
“In the past, I didn’t even realize my actions were a mistake. I only ever thought I was right. I believed that as long as I did things for you, you would understand. That was my biggest misjudgment. And I regret it. I wish I hadn’t done that, wish I hadn’t hurt you under the excuse of doing what was best for you. I wish I hadn’t assumed you would always, unconditionally understand me.”
Every day, every moment, every second—I regret it.
Kaindel’s gaze, now subdued, carried nothing but sincerity as he slowly unraveled his truth.
* * *
