With both eyes closed, Pierrot’s ears became more perceptive. 

The sound of his heartbeat, thumping like a drum, got louder. Each pounding sent a rush of tremors through his entire body. Then, like an empty chamber, the echo reverberated, vibrating with each bounce. His flesh and bones were no more. 

Nothing was there.

He just existed. 

Slowly, he opened his eyes. 

But the cottage was gone. 

And all he could see was that same old view–corpses mangled and blood splattered, enough to make his stomach twist and turn. That broom he was holding turned into a sword–a bloody sword, smeared all over its steel until its surface reflected nothing. That very familiar scent of iron returned, one trace of it blocked his other senses. 

It was when his left arm trembled again. Not because the broom he held was too heavy, but it was his own heart. It sank deeper and deeper, and when he noticed it, he had loosened his grip.

Thud!

The broom in his left hand fell. It wasn’t that loud, but the impact jerked Pierrot from the horror his body had just experienced. 

“S-sorry,” he said before quickly picking it up.

Helena witnessed all of that. In her eyes, this scene was all too familiar. The only difference was Pierrot had managed to hold back his puke, letting it boil inside his stomach with no way to escape. 

As if it were a curse, his body was rendered numb. He didn’t even know whether his limbs were still attached to him or not. 

“....Can’t.”

Helena muttered a word, and then it got louder with every following word that came out next. 

“You can’t,” she said. Her conflicted expression grew darker. “I appreciate your concern, but please don’t trouble yourself with me.”

Those words again. The same thing she had said to him before, and deep within, she knew she would keep saying it no matter how many times it took for her to convince him. 

To convince Pierrot to leave this place before danger returned in all of its glory towards this cottage. 

Even when it could be the end of her, Helena prioritized his safety. 

“I will manage on my own.” She mustered a smile–a weak one, though there was still a faint gleam from it. “When the chance arises, please save yourself.”

Pierrot frowned upon hearing that. The more he stared at her expression, the bigger his hate brew–not towards her, but towards himself. 

“No. We will get out of this situation together,” he said.

“Why? He said he was a Witch Hunter, right? So we know that he is looking for me, not you, Pierrot.”

“I also live here, remember?” Pierrot gripped the broom tighter. This time, he made sure he wouldn’t let it slip from his grab. “If you don’t leave, neither do I.”

“You can’t possibly defeat them.”

“We don’t know about that yet.”

“With one arm, how can you possibly hope to win?”

“I….I will find a way, don’t worry. As long as you survive, I don’t–”

“Don’t be stubborn and listen to me!”

Before Pierrot finished his sentence, Helena slammed the table with both hands as she stood up. The sound startled him, accidentally stepping back once–not because of how loud it was, but because she had never done something like this. 

Her hair swayed down, falling from her back and shoulders like a cascading curtain. It might be the light playing tricks on his eyes, but it appeared to him that the shimmer on Helena’s hair had lost its radiance. Even without looking at her face, Pierrot knew what kind of expression she had. His words stopped all at once as his mouth closed. 

“There are five soldiers out there! I saw them….They must be the subordinates of the man you were talking to. There’s no doubt in my mind that they came here to kill me. All because I’m a Witch! If that’s the fate I must face, so be it.

“But….I don’t know what would happen to me if someone else got caught. If death is approaching, at least make him come only for me.”

Pierrot listened to her voice, which began to quiver. Both hands were clenched onto her skirt, as if letting it go would make her fall down into this pit where crawling her way up wasn’t a possibility. Like being dragged into that hole, darkness coating everywhere as far as she could see.

Then, a sound reached his ears. 

A splash.

And from Helena’s eyes, something dropped. 

A tear.

A drop of it splashed on the table. That small bead of water stayed there, unbothered until the next drop followed. It didn’t seem like a cry, however. Each bead carried this emotion she had been bottling up. 

Was this how it felt to live as a Witch?

“S-sorry for showing something unsightly….” Helena still had her head hanging low just like an apple on a branch. Its weight was immeasurable. “It’s just that I’ve expected this day to come. If I were alone, I would accept it. But now….”

She looked up at Pierrot. How clear his image was in her eyes, from top to bottom, the silhouette of a man she had just met for a few days. And yet, amidst the hollowing loneliness, his presence was exactly what she needed. 

And now, 

“....Please. If it’s your heart that doesn’t want to love, think of it as doing me a favor. For my sake, please leave and save yourself.”

Pierrot felt hopeless. He didn’t share the pain that Helena, a Witch, had to carry, and he couldn’t possibly try to understand. That idea itself disgusted him, as if the thought alone could ease the turbulence of conflicts occurring within her heart.

How naive he was, thinking that all it took for them to escape this dilemma was the sheer might of a one-armed person who couldn’t even properly hold a weapon. If that had been the case, she wouldn’t have been in this predicament in the first place. 

Pierrot was ashamed to think that. For her to react in such a way, what kind of “saving” did he try to do?

Almost giving her a sliver of hope when it was non-existent–that was a sin in itself. 

“Just….Just leave this place. O-or maybe you can tell them I kidnapped you. I threatened you to stay quiet…, yes, that might work!”

That way, Pierrot would certainly survive. 

“As long as they don’t think of you as my accomplice, I don’t mind anything. At least it means that my cursed life is useful to someone.”

Helena certainly wanted him to survive. Even if it were by portraying her as the evil here, just the thought of having someone who had accompanied her lived for another second granted her this courage. And right now, the last act of kindness Pierrot could do was to grant her wish. Even if that meant turning a blind eye. 

….But….

Yes, it was her bravery.

But….

Yes, it was for her sake.

But!

He knew he had to say it. He must. 

He needed something to wake him up, and that was when he realized that he still had his arm. One arm was all he needed.

Slap!

Helena was taken aback by what she saw. 

Pierrot had just slapped himself. It was hard enough that the ringing sound echoed for a bit. 

Thus, he spoke. “I’m sorry for being stubborn, but it’s what I have set my heart to do.” 

Since the beginning, he had made his choice. For him, a cowardly soldier who had run away from the battlefield–this time, he would not back down. 

“Helena, you endangered your life to save me. If you had left me, I would have already rotted, plunged into darkness. To me, you’re not a curse.”

Even if his trembling hand and legs refused to listen, no matter what it took, he would force them. 

“I don’t care if you’re a Witch. I owe you my life, and this time, it’s my turn to repay your kindness.”

After all, if he couldn’t protect a single lady, then let alone a soldier, he wasn’t a man to begin with. 

“So instead, please run away and hide. In the meantime, I will distract them. After a while, I’m sure they will leave. When that happens, this place will once again be your haven.”

Helena finally looked up. Her tears had stopped for a while. 

“But why? They won’t be merciful even towards Witches’ accomplices. You don’t need to suffer with me.”

“Well….” Pierrot scratched his hair. A smile then appeared on his face. “It seems I have grown extremely fond of this place, too.”

This short life they had shared truly meant something more than he could have ever thought of. It was a fact that surprised him too, that the suspicion he had before towards her turned into trust.

And weirdly enough, although he couldn’t prove it, he was sure that Helena felt the same. 

“So please run away, Helena. Saving my savior is the least thing I can do.”

At that slight moment, Helena looked at Pierrot. From her first sight alone, it was clear that the man beside him was still trembling. It looked as if his feet were buried deep inside the floor, making it all more impressive when he turned around and walked closer to that door. 

Pierrot had decided. What about her?

What about me?

“....Leave.”

Within the rambling of her own thoughts, Helena then heard a whisper. 

No.

It was a recollection. A memory.

Her master’s words–a message which she had passed on many years ago. 

“Aren’t you clumsy, Helena?”

That hand brushed against her ruffled hair, how long was it? She might have been crying. Did she fall? A sharp pain in her knee. 

“It’s good that you’re high-spirited, but since you’re clumsy, it’s better for you not to shoulder all the burden alone.”

And it was her master who had comforted her. 

“Helena, do you like this place?”

“Yes, I do, Master.”

“The flowers are beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they do, Master.”

“But there’s a time when you need to go outside. These flowers aren’t truly your friends.”

“....”

“And when the day comes, promise me and leave this place. This cottage is too small for you. If you ever find someone who understands you, be by their side.”

That gentle voice, each word conveyed warmth like no other. 

“After all, life is too short to spend it alone.”

Her master’s face vanished as the memory reached its end, but those words lingered, echoing in her head persistently. 

Without her looking, the flowers living in her garden would still sway left and right.

And they could always be beautiful with one another, sharing the place with each other.

Then….

What about her?

“Wait.”

Helena pulled her hair back with both hands. Now nothing obstructed her view–her path–anymore. The look she gave Pierrot was filled with determination. It was still cloudy, sure, but it was brighter than before. With some polish, the gem would certainly be crystal clear, reflecting that path. 

She made her answer. 

“Let’s run away. Both of us,” she said.

Pierrot stood there in silence, processing what he had just heard. “Are you sure? Leaving this place would mean….”

“Yes.”

They would never return. 

It was a choice she made on a whim, thus justifying Pierrot’s worry. But once he saw into those peering eyes of hers, he understood it wasn’t a last ditch effort. And this time, she wasn’t begging Pierrot to save his own life. She wanted both of them to survive. 

“I hope you don’t mind coming with me,” Helena said. 

“Of course not. In fact, I’m glad you include me as well.”

At least, she managed to smile. The tension that weighed on her heart became lighter. 

“But honestly, I don’t know how we can do it. Those people are camping outside the forest, and I don’t think we have the strength to fight them.”

That was certainly their biggest hurdle now. Fighting five trained soldiers in his condition would be beyond difficult. Furthermore, they didn’t know what the other two men could do. Although laid back, Pierrot couldn’t shake the impression that Malin was the most dangerous among all of them. 

So avoiding fights would be the most optimal. 

But how?

He had to rack his brain. It didn’t need to be a foolproof plan, just a decent one that could make them disappear from their sight. If it were necessary, he didn’t mind losing another limb. 

Then, an idea struck. 

“Helena, do you trust me?”

Hearing that, Helena knew only one answer, one that came from her heart. 

“I do.”

“Then, I think I have a plan.”

***

Night descended upon the Land of Cydonia.

Hidden within the shadow of that same night was the Whispering Forest, where no other people would notice what was about to unfold there. 

Right outside the forest, someone yawned.

“Hahhh….”

It was Malin. 

He scratched his hair, then his nose. The moment after that, he let out another yawn. 

One couldn’t blame him, however. 

After dispatching from the east battlefield, he hadn’t got enough time to rest. Despite his eccentric personality, he took his job seriously, especially when he could reap so many from his clients. This client, especially, had promised him an offer he couldn’t possibly refuse. 

He was still tired, though, a fact he couldn’t deny. 

A few seconds had passed when he finally opened his mouth not to yawn but to complain.

“This is boring.”

“It’s what you get for playing too much.” Enfir appeared at his side. His presence became even more faint with the darkness shining above him. “It would have been easier to take him as our hostage.”

“But where’s–”

“–The fun of that?”

“....Yeah.”

Enfir sighed. His boss’ antics sometimes left him with a headache. 

“It’s fine,” Malin continued. “At least I know what must be done. If they have done nothing by tomorrow morning, we will enter the forest again. You can use force too if you want.”

“Understood.”

“And well, we need to–”

“S-Sir!”

Getting interrupted again–today truly wasn’t Malin’s lucky day. 

One of Eghwin’s soldiers approached both of them. He was covered in sweat, and the panicked expression that settled on his face immediately registered in Malin’s head. 

“What?” he asked. 

“I-it’s just….”

“Calm your breath. Slowly inhale and exhale.”

The soldier did as instructed, and only after that he could speak normally. 

“There’s a problem,” he said.

“And what is it? Don’t tell me you’re hungry. Everyone hasn’t eaten too yet.”

“N-no, Sir. It’s just….”

He paused for a moment. 

“Inside the forest, something is burning!”