Chapter 82: Bone Between Flowers (5)
What is the sensation of death like?
Fleur had imagined it before.
The body and the mind are separate. If the body is the flesh, the mind is the seed. Therefore, all life is completed as a fruit. The part that death, with its mouth agape, bites first is the body, then the mind. While pain is engraved on every speck of skin, only the mind is clear, and by the ti even pain cannot be felt, the mind fades. As if the past life was all a dream. Because in a dream, one cannot feel pain.
That’s why Fleur thought.
It was more like a dream than anything else.
“Fleur, look at .”
A flowerpot was placed on the table.
Fleur looked at the flower blooming in the pot. She counted the petals of the gently swaying flower. Actually, it was different. Pushing aside the fresh green leaves with her index finger, she looked at the woman sitting across the table. Pertillier Epanoui. She looked over the woman sitting opposite her, very carefully.
“I’m not talking to the flower.”
Pertillier smiled.
“I’m talking to you.”
“……Mother.”
Fleur whispered softly.
“Am I dead?”
She had thought she would return only after death.
To this place. To her mother’s bedroom. That was what Fleur had believed.
Because it had been left uncleaned. Pertillier’s always ssy bedroom was the only place that Fleur had not been able to clean up in her lifeti. Therefore, she had been certain. If there was a place she would reach only after death, it would be there. Because in the Underworld, only the souls that could not be erased would exist.
“No. Not yet.”
Pertillier whispered so.
“So go and co back.”
“Where do you an?”
I……,
Fleur has had enough.
I want to be with you, Mother.
Fleur will stay with you, Mother.
Fleur will beco your flower, Mother.
So……,
“……I’m not going anywhere anymore.”
“You don’t have to do that, Fleur.”
Pertillier extended her hand.
In the center of the table, in the center of the flowerpot.
Pertillier caressed the flower.
Slowly, lightly. Fleur’s and Pertillier’s hands touched the flower. They touched each other. Between the two of them was just a flower.
“Look, Fleur.”
There is a flower here.
Our roots are here.
We can et again anyti. Because I will be waiting here. But there are people who have taken root elsewhere. They are waiting for you.
Pertillier whispered so, and,
“That’s right.”
suddenly, Alberge spoke.
Alberge was sitting across the table.
“There are people waiting for you, milady. You must say goodbye to them.”
It wasn’t just Alberge. One, two, three. The chairs around the table increased. Everyone sat around the small table. Everyone was gathered around a single flower. They were the dead knights who had followed Fleur.
“There is still ti. So go and co back.”
“Our journey is over, but there is sothing you must do, milady. This place is too desolate for you to be here.”
“So don’t worry. We are not leaving.”
Fleur was silent.
She blinked quietly.
The knights smiled. Alberge smiled, Pertillier smiled. The knights exchanged jokes with each other. Alberge stretched and yawned. Pertillier propped her chin and looked at the flower. Everyone was as lively as if they were alive. And so, she smiled. A small smile spread on Fleur’s lips.
“I……”
Drrrk.
The sound of a chair being pushed back.
“……Is it really alright for to go?”
Fleur asked, having stood up from her seat.
There was no answer. An answer was not needed.
One step, Fleur took a step. She stepped and stepped. There was no scenery outside the window, and Pertillier’s bedroom was neatly arranged. The draft that had been blowing through the gap in the window was gone, and the flower in the pot that everyone was sitting around would not wither. An eternal and endless rest existed here, but,
“──I’ll be back!”
Fleur said a light farewell.
She waved her hand. She grabbed the doorknob and twisted it.
She went further. She crossed endlessly.
Towards everything.
* * *
A pilgrimage.
This is a pilgrimage.
Placing her hand on her chest, Fleur thought. Her heart was beating. But it would soon stop. She could tell instinctively. How many breaths were left. It would be equal to the number that made up her life, or absurdly small.
Shwaaaaa──.
While the rain poured down,
it was like the process of a pilgrimage to a holy land.
The scenery spread before her eyes must be the holy land.
A land where she could stay for only a short ti, and which she had co to in order to aim for all sorts of wishes. This place, which she had reached after traversing a long distance, was a holy land for Fleur. It made sense; she had reached life from death, and after staying for a very short ti, she had to return to death.
“……Dying?”
Osmond asked.
“I live……, and you die, milady?”
“That’s right.”
Fleur answered readily.
The iron mask was shattered, and Osmond’s face, revealed in a ss, was ultimately like a fairy’s. Even covered in soot, it was innocent. Even stained with large and small wounds, it was pure. The fairy child was sitting down beside Fleur.
“What does that an? You’re right in front of , milady.”
Milady is……,
right in front of ……, he said.
Osmond muttered in a dazed voice, then,
“I definitely stabbed you, milady……”
he tilted his head as if he couldn’t believe it.
“You did. You killed . You did really well, Osmond. Thank you for listening to my request.”
“Why are you thanking ? Is it sothing to be thankful for that I killed you, milady?”
“You survived. That’s sothing to be thankful for.”
Fleur extended her hand towards Osmond.
She stroked Osmond’s head and opened her mouth.
“Osmond, you are the first person I saved.”
She had never wished for a life of saving soone.
Even if she had t the God of the Underworld and received the art of resuscitation, she thought that saving and reviving were different. Fleur could give bones, but she could not caress flesh.
She had revived them because she could not save them. Because she could not save Pertillier, she had ended up reviving the dead and forming an army.
“You have lived for until now, but……”
Then what should she do?
What should she do with that man whose flesh she had saved and whose bones she had revived?
Osmond was the first person Fleur had saved. That was why she was clumsy. The bones that made up a part of his body were ultimately not lively. He was only awkwardly alive. Only an awkward life had been bestowed upon him.
“……You can’t do that anymore.”
“Then what should I do? How should I live?”
If she had been a little more skilled,
she wouldn’t have let that man hold a sword.
“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you that. You have to find it for yourself. The reason you must live.”
“Why? Why do I have to find a reason to live?”
If she had been a little more skilled,
she would have helped that man live only for himself.
“Because you deserve to survive.”
“Lady Fleur……”
If she had been a little more skilled,
“……Do you think soone like deserves to survive?”
she wouldn’t have let that man ask such a question.
“Of course. Even if your parents abandoned you, even if so noble tried to kill you, even if there is a legend that says people like you deserve to die, you definitely deserve to survive and──.”
Fleur lowered her head.
After tilting her lips towards Osmond’s ear,
she whispered the incantation.
So that Osmond could fall asleep.
“Lady Fleur, I……”
I, I, I……, he said.
With his eyes turning red, Osmond muttered.
I don’t deserve to survive. I shouldn’t.
I don’t want to survive alone. Why must it always be like this?
He had survived alone among the fairy children. And now he had to survive alone again. Do I deserve that? Really? Osmond wanted to ask a question. Just as children learn by repeatedly asking questions, just as the fairy children should.
“Do I really……”
Osmond was falling asleep.
“deserve to survive……”
The focus in his eyes disappeared, and,
his mind went blank. His body began to sway.
“Do I have the right?”
Thud.
Osmond collapsed, and,
“……Of course.”
Fleur answered in a small voice, and,
“You don’t need to worry.”
Abel approached Fleur’s side.
“I will take responsibility for this one. You can rest assured.”
Abel slung Osmond over one shoulder.
They were equally shabby. Both Osmond and Abel were exhausted from the battle. The only difference, perhaps, was their expressions. Abel’s deanor was, as always, silent. He rely aid his indifferent gaze at Fleur.
“Have you been to the Underworld?”
“Yes.”
To Abel’s question, Fleur answered.
“Then you must know well. You don’t have much ti. No god can achieve complete resuscitation.”
“Yes, I know that well.”
Fleur whispered quietly.
“I saw so many things while coming here from the Underworld. Thank you, Professor Argento. Without you, so many subjects would have died. You saved the subjects of the Saint-Pierre estate, Professor.”
A mont of silence.
Abel leaned down towards Fleur.
He knelt on one knee and t her eyes.
“──No matter how much I save, there is always soone who is dying.”
Abel said in a flat voice.
“The Imperial Secret Service, the Inquisition Bureau, and the countless institutions that make up the empire worked hard for this place. They did their best to prevent anyone from dying. I was no different.”
But I couldn’t save you.
Abel whispered so.
“So I ask of you. Do not thank .”
“Professor Argento, I……”
Fleur stared at Abel’s face.
He was like a man whose emotions had been hardened with plaster.
There was no emotion in Abel’s face. His lips were a straight line. His voice was absurdly monotonous. And what about his eyes? The focus in Abel’s dark blue eyes was blurry. To the point where one couldn't tell if it was languid or empty.
And so, she always thought,
“……I truly disliked you.”
He seed so strong.
So strong that she thought he didn’t understand the human heart.
She thought he couldn’t empathize with the weak. It made sense; Abel had given Monika a sword. He had given her a prosthetic arm that fired barrages. He had educated her to beco a knight, and he had paid attention to making her fight for herself rather than protecting her.
Was it because he didn’t know anger, sadness, anxiety, or fear? She had wondered. He didn’t seem to consider the possibility of Monika’s defeat. The possibility of defeat on the battlefield, the possibility of defeat in a battle with monsters, he didn’t seem to care about the countless possibilities of defeat.
It must have been so, but,
“That is……”
It was because you were a hero.
Fleur whispered so.
“……I learned while I was dead. Everything about this world. The distance between the Underworld and Epezeria is infinite, and I have just arrived after traversing that infinite distance. I saw and felt so many things.”
She saw and felt.
The things that exist between the Underworld and Epezeria.
Hero and Demon King. Destruction and regression. One world and other worlds. ‘The Mother God's Right Hand’ and ‘The Mother God's Left Hand’. Monika and Abel. The child who will beco the hero of Epezeria, and the hero who ca from another world.
“Not a professor at CIAR, not a Sword Saint of the Papacy, but a hero who ca from another world……, that was your true identity, Professor.”
“No, that’s different.”
Abel had a faint smile on his face.
“I am no longer a hero. I am just a madman.”
You said I was strong,but that’s not true either. I am here because I am weak.
I was so weak that I couldn’t take care of my own world.
You said I didn’t know the feelings of the weak,
but that’s not true either. There is only one thing I don’t know.
“Fleur, look at .”
Look at my face.
“I don’t know what expression I should make.”
Abel said so.
With his indifferently hardened expression.
“I know how to feel sadness.”
I saw it while traveling through countless worlds. I witnessed infinite sadness.
I saw cities collapse in earthquakes, huge tsunamis sweep away coastlines, and all sorts of things subrged by typhoons.
I saw tens of millions of people die. Through a single war.
I saw hundreds of thousands of people die. Through a single battle.
I saw tens of thousands of people die, caught in a single bombing.
That is why I──,
“am always sad.”
Abel was sad.
With an ever-so-boyish expression.
“But I know how to feel joy.”
I saw it while traveling through countless worlds. I witnessed infinite joy.
I saw the power of the Main Gods protect cities, human efforts purify the sea, and the will to protect the weak even in the midst of disaster.
I achieved the survival of tens of millions. While fighting a single war.
I achieved the survival of hundreds of thousands. While fighting a single battle.
I blocked a single bombing and achieved the survival of tens of thousands.
That is why I──,
“am always happy.”
Abel was happy.
With an ever-so-boyish expression.
“That was why.”
Joy and sadness could not be mixed.
He could not be happy and sad at the sa ti. He could neither be only happy nor only sad. And so, Abel’s expression hardened. His lips, which had been swaying like a boy’s, beca indifferently rigid.
“I am not a strong person, Fleur.”
Happy that the subjects of the Saint-Pierre estate survived,
sad that the subjects of the Saint-Pierre estate were dying,
struggling in infinite joy and sadness,
“──I am just such a madman.”
I see.
That person’s emotions were not dull.
Staring at Abel, Fleur thought.
How long had he been living? Even so, would his emotions evaporate? Could emotions be worn down by the hands of a clock that moves ti? Emotions were not worn down. They accumulated. Sadness and joy ford layers without mixing with each other, and like strata hardening, they beca vaguely solid.
“Go to Monika, Fleur.”
Standing alone on the land where joy and sadness had accumulated,he had been constantly wandering,
Abel Argento…….
“You’ll only waste ti talking to more. Your friend is waiting for you, isn’t she?”
“Professor Argento, I……”
Towards the turning Abel, Fleur opened her mouth.
What should she say? Should she apologize? Should she offer a blessing?
Fleur wondered. And so,
“……Do I still look like a girl who hasn't even co of age to you?”
she asked with a faint smile.
As if being mischievous. As if being childish.
“Of course.”
Abel answered with a gentle smile.
“You were a very smart child. Not only were you skilled in divine magic, but you also understood yourself well. That must be why you achieved such a bold revenge. But I was your teacher, and as a teacher, I had to teach you what my student didn’t know.”
You are a girl who hasn’t even co of age.
I wanted you to know that fact.
Muttering so, Abel took a step.
‘──Ah.’
So that was it.
Without knowing, Fleur thought.
So it was possible. Even as an evangelist, even as a vengeful ghost, it was alright to call herself a girl who hadn't even co of age.
Fleur took a step.
The pouring rain soaked Fleur.
Her steps were light. As if she were a girl rather than a pilgrim.
Far away, she could see Monika sitting on the rubble of a building. Monika’s back shimred in the pouring rain.
There was so much she didn’t know.
Walking, walking, and walking, Fleur thought.
She thought she knew life. She thought she knew death.
She didn’t know that she had lived as a girl who hadn't even co of age, and she didn’t know that she would die as a girl who hadn't even co of age. She had only longed to live as a vengeful ghost, and had resolved to die as a vengeful ghost.
That was why it was only hatred.
All I knew was hatred.
On the other side of death is life. Then what should be placed on the other side of hatred?
‘Monika Lohengrin.’
I wanted it to be you.
While reaching death from life, and reaching life again from death, I saw your death for a very short ti.
I saw Monika Lohengrin dying, burning herself.
I had hoped that you wouldn’t live as a student, that you wouldn’t live as a holy knight, but it was truly a futile thought. You will one day live as a hero.
What made you that way? A god? Or the world?
I don’t know. Is a god a precious existence to you? Is the world a precious ho? I don’t know that either. Would it be wrong to hope that you didn’t know either? Would it be blasphemous to consider your final monts, burned all over and dying in pain and sadness, to be absurdly more valuable than a god or the world?
Will you burn again?
Yourself. To protect sothing, be it a god or the world.
‘No.’
It shouldn’t be that way.
It should never be that way.
With a firm heart, Fleur smiled.
“Monika.”
Sitting side by side with Monika, she opened her mouth in a bright voice.
“Aren’t you cold? You’ll catch a cold.”
“……I’m fine.”
A vague silence.
Monika and Fleur stared straight ahead without a word.
Monika was wearing armor. Black armor with bloodstains engraved here and there, and torn parts rampant.
Fleur was wearing a dress. A white dress with bloodstains engraved here and there, and torn parts rampant.
The purpose of their attire was different, but in the end, it was the sa. They had fought together, and they were a ss together. But still, it was different. Monika would live, and Fleur would die.
“Fleur.”
And so, Monika spoke first.
As one who would continue to live.
“Did you have any regrets in your life?”
“Well.”
Fleur shrugged her shoulders.
“There are many things I regret. But it can’t be helped. I don’t want to go to the Underworld with such cumberso feelings. I’ll leave everything here and go.”
“Are you not afraid of dying?”
“Not at all. I went to the Underworld, and it was a better place than I thought. It stung when I was stabbed with a sword, but when I opened my eyes, my mother was there. So it’s fine.”
“I……”
Monika lowered her head.
“I think we should have talked more.”
“It’s fine. Let’s talk now.”
“It’s a little late now.”
“Monika.”
“What.”
“Monika.”
“What?”
“Monika Lohengrin.”
“So, what?”
“Look over there.”
“Why.”
“Look over there.”
“……I’m looking.”
“Look at the ruins of that cathedral. Isn’t it collapsing in a funny shape? It looks like a crying old man.”
“It does.”
“Monika.”
“What.”
“Monika.”
Silence.
“Monika.”
“Why do you keep calling my na?”
“Calling a na is also a conversation.”
“Is it.”
“Yes.”
“Fleur.”
“What?”
“Duke Zylon is running over there.”
“He looks very sad.”
“Is that so. He looks angry to .”
“Monika.” “Fleur.”
“What?” “What?”
“You first.” “You first.”
Silence again.
“……Monika, do you like this world?”
Monika’s gaze tilted towards Fleur.
Fleur was looking into the distance. She seed to be observing the subjects being rescued. Strong n equipped with what looked like expensive gear were coming and going. With the symbols of their affiliated organizations engraved on their bodies, they supported the elderly, soothed the boys and girls, sotis spat out curses, and then one of them would mutter,
Except for the apostates……,
it seems no one died.
“What’s there to like or not like about the world. I’m just living in it.”
Monika muttered with a sigh.
“Still, I think it’s a relief. It seems no subjects died.”
“Monika.”
“What.”
“Monika.”
“……I wish you weren’t dying.”
Fleur’s gaze tilted towards Monika.
Monika was looking into the distance. She seed to be observing the vaguely decayed ruins. A building that had been sturdily built to withstand the cold was scorched. As if a god had swept through it while playing with sand, it had collapsed, and only emptiness remained in the jumbled ss of black and turbid materials.
Monika’s eyes were the sa.
The moisture that had ford between her eyelids flowed down emptily.
“Don’t cry.”
“Why do you have to die? I don’t understand……”
“Don’t cry, please.”
“……Okay.”
“I told you not to cry.”
“I said okay──!”
“Monika.”
“Yeah……”
“From now on, rember my words.”
You are beautiful.
Fleur whispered so.
“Don’t forget that you are beautiful.”
You are a truly beautiful child. A child who knows how to love soone, who knows how to be considerate of soone, who can share friendship with soone. That’s not all.
Everything is beautiful. Even the disability you have.
If you take off the prosthetic arm from your arm, a scar will be revealed, right?
It’s fine. Even that is beautiful. It’s not because of the story behind the scar. It’s not because you stood up after overcoming the scar. Just as you look at a beautiful woman and think she is beautiful, just by its appearance, I think your scar is beautiful.
“So everything is fine.”
From now on, you will be loved by many people,
you will be considered by many people, and you will share friendship with so many people.
“You must not reject love, consideration, or friendship.”
Don’t think that you are not worthy of being loved.
Don’t think that you are not worthy of being considered.
Don’t be afraid to share friendship, and I hope you will always think that you are worthy of it.
“You are more beautiful than anyone right now and──.”
──you will beco even more beautiful in the future.
“So I’m sorry.”
Fleur placed her hand on her chest.
Her heart was beating slowly. Like her steps slowing down.
The breath that had been flowing out of her lips beca smaller. Her eyelids began to sink, and the scenery before her eyes wavered.
She felt no pain. She was just drowsy, as if sleep were coming.
The senses that made up her body faded one by one. She could no longer see, the sll of rain disappeared, and her ears beca muffled, so she couldn’t hear anything.
So, Monika Lohengrin,
if I could say a little more to you,
what kind of heart would be best to leave behind and go?
I existed like this. I also had love, consideration, and friendship.
Fleur, who had been pondering so,
“I……, I’m probably very heavy.”
Thud.
leaned against Monika.
As if throwing away all her feelings.
“Monika Lohengrin, you are my first……”
Shwaaaaa──.
The sound of rain echoed.
The ripples spreading in the puddle were like lips.
As if trying to utter words left unfinished, they just opened round and round and pooled in one place.
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