Ch. 30 - Mother’s Playful Fingers

The brats kept sneaking glances at me, but I had no desire to know what they wanted.

To avoid encouraging their idol worship, I remained silent.

“…”

I turned away and sat cross-legged.

Their stares pricked at me like needles.

They busied themselves with soap-making, but their minds were on me. The air was unbearably tense. On that bed of thorns, I waited.

When the figure finally appeared, disappointment hit hard.

“…”

I waved a hand as though brushing away a fly.

“…”

But the girl just stood there, staring. Her silence pressed down like a weight. Somehow, she felt more troublesome than Gina.

“Eva, sorry. Could you fetch Ashita and Zoë for me?”

Still, she only stared. Dirtier than before, but steadier on her feet.

The silence stretched. A month had passed, and in that month, both our places had shifted: the “food servant”—the lowest of the workers—versus the so-called “one in the back.”

It was I who broke the silence.

“Are you well?”

“Yeah…”

Eva nodded, folding her arms and looking down at me.

Arms crossed: suspicion, defense. I hadn’t harmed her directly, but hatred lingered.

“Eva, sorry, but please bring—”

“Don’t know them!”

“…”

So even after a month, nothing had changed. She puffed out her chest, arms still folded.

“I’ll hear you out. What’s the errand?”

“…”

If nothing had changed, then I had nothing to say. The sound of her mocking laugh came as a response to my silence.

“You’ve changed, you know! Look at you! Only skin and bones! Like you’re about to keel over any second!”

“…”

She wanted to wound me. And she wasn’t wrong. The “drain” had been brutal: collapse, dizziness, nausea. For ten days, I could hardly eat. Marielle had even warned me that, at my age, there was a risk of “loss.” 

Whatever that meant.

Eva stood firm now. The stupor from losing her tail had passed.

“…”

“Hah! Silent again? Look at me! Because of you, I’m stuck like this!!”

Now she wore rags, denied even a bath, reduced to a kitchen drudge under Abby’s orders.

“That wasn't my doing. You chose this fate.”

“What!?”

“Each person has the right to choose their destiny—whatever it looks like. Your life now is the one you chose.”

“Tch!”

Her claws flashed as she raised her hand. Against a beastkin’s blow, a human like me wouldn’t last.

But she froze mid-swing.

“So this wreck you’ve become… this too is a fate you chose?” She said with a twisted grin.

“…Yes.”

She was right. My condition was the fruit of my resolve and recklessness.

Her face contorted. Her hand trembled in the air.

“Go on then. Mock me. Laugh at me!”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“—!”

Her hand still hovered. In strength alone, she could crush me.

Her voice shook with rage.

“Laugh at me! Laugh! Or else—!”

But instead, tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Since you came, everyone’s gone strange. Ashita, Zoë, even Bee!”

Exaggeration, perhaps. But with truth at its core. I was an outsider, and my presence had warped them all.

“Laugh at me! Or else I’m too miserable!”

She was pitiful, just a child, twelve, thirteen at most. Beastkin or human, it made no difference. I was an adult. And I had failed her. Failed to forgive, failed to guide.

But an apology might wound her pride deeper. So I stayed silent.

Her tears kept flowing. Her arm fell limp.

“Bastard…”

“Yeah…”

“Bastard!!!”

“…”

She was right. I had never treated her fairly. Compared to Ashita, Eva had always drawn the short straw.

This was my punishment.

The soap-scented children watched, confused. I let them watch. Let them see there was no idol here, only a narrow, petty man.

Eva’s tears kept falling. Humiliation, misery, anger—but nowhere to place them. And it was my doing.

“What’s that about twenty years?”

She bit her lip, trembling.

“Ashita and Zoë… no matter how I strain them, they don’t complain. Not once.”

“I see. So that’s it…”

They must have felt their own guilt. That was why they hadn’t come to me this past month.

I could only accept it. I had fancied myself the lone adult, yet acted childish instead.

Mother Asclepia, you have a cruel sense of humor.

The thought was bitter.

Eva’s tears flowed still.

“Why don’t you look happy?”

Happiness, unhappiness. Those were just perspectives. I had never once thought myself happy. So—

“I don’t understand.”

“Laugh! Laugh at me!!”

“It isn’t funny.”

“—!!”

Her emotions burst.

“What are you! Why are you half-dead! Why don’t you look happy! What’s this about twenty years!?”

“…”

If twenty years of life lost was my punishment for narrowness, then so be it.

Perhaps Mother Asclepia meant for me to reexamine my philosophy.

With my head down, I accepted Eva’s fury.

◇◆

Live on.

If you do, you will come to see.

◇◆

Mother Asclepia was beyond me. Her thoughts unknowable, yet her gaze still pressed upon me.

Something stirred inside me—a philosophy yet unborn. A pure silver star gleamed above me.

Then—

A wet crunch.

Hurled across the room, I slammed into a pillar, ricocheted, and landed in the yard.

“Kh—!”

Blood poured from my mouth.

“…”

Was it Eva? I hadn’t even seen it. Too fast. Too strong.

But Eva stood frozen mid-tear, staring at me as if she’d seen a ghost.

Her head turned stiffly.

The stench of beast hit my nose.

“Gina wins. Gina number two now.”

“…”

So that was it.

Gina.

My ribs were shattered, my lungs pierced by bone. Blood oozed nonstop.

I collapsed into a red, spreading pool.

Something strange happened.

Through the haze, I heard a cracking sound, like blocks snapping into place. Eva’s body was shifting.

A… panther?

Her rags tore apart, unveiling a massive black leopard, sleek as midnight—save for the missing tail.

“GRAAAAHHHHH!!”

A roar of anguish and rage.

The last thing I saw was Eva, the black panther, charging at a panicked Gina with fury.

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