Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part8

Part 4 (Part 8 of Volume 8)

"The verdict: from this moment onward, Sakagami Kiyoaki will be assigned as a subordinate to Illia Kreischmidt."

After all the questioning had concluded, the simple court magistrate, Kagura Murasaki, read aloud the decision.

Kiyoaki nodded with a solemn expression, while Illia, standing next to him, kept

her stoic and unreadable mask firmly in place, staring straight ahead without moving.

"The term of service will last until you successfully escape this island and reach the Chandler fortress safely. During this time, Sakagami is not allowed to refuse Illia's orders. That is all. Kiyoaki, do you have any objections?"

"...None."

"And you, Illia? No grudges allowed, this matter is settled. Understood?" "...Yes." The rising sun, which was about to climb into the sky, wrapped the seven camp members in its light. Mio had a fully awakened expression, Cecil looked worried, Reiner was grinning, and Balthazar watched the makeshift court proceedings with indifference. In the end, it was determined that Kiyoaki had not intentionally attacked the naked Illia. The incident was resolved as an unfortunate accident caused by a chain of coincidental events.

"Illia, you should slap your subordinate. Give him a good one!"

Reiner teased. Illia nodded once and then stood before Kiyoaki. Raising her right hand fully behind her, she glared sharply at Kiyoaki’s face, fixing her gaze directly on him—

Thump.

With a sound effect like that, Illia's face turned bright red.

Like flames, like a ripened persimmon, like the sunset of this island, her complete and utter blushing engulfed her usually expressionless face.

Frozen in place, her hand still raised, she stopped moving. She couldn’t slap him. Illia's lips trembled. "...My hand! ...My palm will be sullied..."

With those clumsy, trembling words, she lowered her raised arm and, from her hands to her feet, she flushed red like a machine as she stiffly stretched her limbs and quickly walked away in fast, hurried steps.

"Oh dear... That's serious."

Watching Illia disappear into the trees, Reiner said, exasperated, as he put his arm around Kiyoaki's shoulders.

"I've never seen Illia like that before. She's totally confused. She’s been raised as a pure biological weapon for air combat in a sterile environment since she was a kid, so once she gets a crack, it's hard for her to recover."

Hearing this, Cecil became angry.

"Don't talk like that! Illia is not a weapon, she's a person! Anyone would be shocked by what happened in the middle of the night!"

Hands on her hips and cheeks puffed up, she glared at Reiner. "Ugh," Reiner raised his hands to the sky in mock surrender.

"We should give her some space. Kiyoaki, you'll have to handle the engine repairs alone. It looks like Illia can't do it in her current state."

"...Yes."

Prompted by Kagura, Kiyoaki slumped his shoulders and turned on his heel. He had to perform emergency repairs on the damaged areas of the airship Eriadore by the end of the day.

"Pervert."

As he passed by Mio, she muttered the word in the coldest voice possible. Slightly annoyed, he shot her a glare.

"...You know I didn’t do it on purpose."

"Really? Or maybe you noticed Illia going to the river and followed her?" "I said I didn't! How could I know who went where in that darkness?" "Hmph. You're such a pervert, you probably found her by scent. You're the worst. Absolutely disgusting."

"Enough! There are some things you just shouldn’t say."

"I don't care. Idiot. Creep. Pervert. I bet you're happy to be Illia's subordinate now, aren't you? So you can be close to her all the time."

Kiyoaki had no idea what Mio was talking about. Just as he was about to retort, Kagura stepped in to mediate.

"Both of you, stop. This matter is settled. We depart at dusk, so focus on your tasks. Time is running out."

"...Yes."

Mio gave a meek nod and, after shooting one last glare at Kiyoaki, went to inspect her station, the nose turret.

With a deep sigh, Kiyoaki headed off to check the engines.

Normally, repairs and inspections en route were the job of flight mechanics, but there were none on board this airship. Minor issues were supposed to be handled by ground mechanics back on Tsurugi Island.

The officers responsible for selecting the crew of seven had not anticipated a crash landing and had removed the flight engineers to save weight. Since Kiyoaki and Illia had the most technical knowledge after the mechanics, they had no choice but to handle the engineers' duties.

After about an hour of tinkering, Kiyoaki identified the problem: the second engine had a faulty carburetor, and the fourth engine had a seized shaft. He replaced the second engine’s carburetor with a spare and checked the fuel system connections, while he hand-polished the shaft and bearings on the fourth engine to ensure proper fit. Since he wasn't a professional mechanic, he might have overlooked other causes, but he lacked the knowledge to pinpoint them. Yet, in the middle of a battlefield, complaining about what was lacking wouldn't help.

──Is Illia okay?

As he worked alone, filing the shaft, he found himself thinking about Illia. If Reiner was right and she'd spent her whole childhood training to be an ace, last night’s events would have been overwhelming.

Just thinking about it caused Kiyoaki's mind to involuntarily flash back to the image of Illia’s naked body, illuminated by the pale moonlight.

Her cold eyes, her icy demeanor, her resolute posture, her impersonal and

mechanical tone—how could such feminine curves and lines be hidden beneath all that?

He was ashamed and disgusted by himself, but he couldn’t fight against the primal desire deep within him.

He tried to distract himself with other thoughts, washing away the memory, and finally finished the engine repairs.

After mounting the cowling on the engine using a ladder, he descended to the ground, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and sighed. It was 3:20 PM. Just as he pondered what to do next, Balthazar called out to him.

"We're deciding today's course. I want your input as well."

On the beach where the airship had run aground, Balthazar unfolded a nautical chart across a folding aluminum table, and set up a deck chair. The chart depicted the Akitsu Federation, the St Vault Empire, and the archipelago and waterfalls between them.

The current location, Cameron Island, and the destination, Chandler Fortress on Mauregan Island, were about ten hours apart by flight. Fuel was sufficient, and under normal circumstances, the route wouldn’t pose any problems.

However, the straight line connecting the departure point and destination passed through the threat zone of enemy air bases.

And those air bases were...

"The island of Messus, the Odessa Fortress..."

It was Kiyoaki's homeland, which had been seized by Urano.

Since the outbreak of the Hydrabard War five years ago, fierce battles had raged around Odessa Fortress. Four months ago, the Hydrabard ground forces finally managed to land, and the fortress had completely fallen into enemy hands. As a result, the communication routes between the Akitsu Federation and the St Vault Empire had been severed, and the tide in the southern seas had begun to shift in favor of the Urano-Hydrabard alliance. It was likely that St Vault's hasty entry into the conflict, even at the cost of their goodwill fleet, was due to the fall of Messus Island.

"You were born in Odessa, right? Are you familiar with the surrounding sea?" When asked, Kiyoaki answered honestly. "Before entering the Officer Academy, I flew a biplane around the sea near Messus Island. By looking at the islands, I can generally tell where I am. I can also predict weather changes by reading the sky and the sea."

"Did your father teach you that?"

"No, I learned it from someone who was my father’s apprentice. My father didn’t approve of me flying."

"I see. So... how would you fly?"

Kiyoaki studied the map, searching for the best route.

The direct path from Cameron Island to Chandler Fortress would pass through the threat zones of two enemy bases: the Odessa Fortress on Messus Island and the Sierra Greed Air Base on Santos Island, which was once part of the former Sylvania Kingdom. There was no way to avoid these zones, and flying through them would almost certainly result in detection by enemy radar, followed by

interception.

Would retreating be a better option?

Kiyoaki considered the route back to the Akitsu Federation’s capital, Misato.

However, this would take them through the heavily contested area around Tsurugi Island, where enemy forces were currently launching a major assault. Large air units were constantly flying in and out of the nearby Karanakta Fortress Airfield, and the area was right in the midst of a massive battle. A sluggish airship flying through such a zone would become an easy target for the Urano air squadrons, who were constantly competing among themselves to rack up kill counts.

Going forward would be hell, and retreating would be hell. Then... ──Fly at the time when detection is least likely, and when there are the fewest enemies.

It would be dangerous to act recklessly. If he were flying a fighter alone, he could afford to take risks, but they were aboard an airship this time. He couldn’t forget that seven lives depended on them.

Kiyoaki gave his suggestion.

"I propose we take the direct route to Chandler Fortress and fly at midnight. There is a risk of being detected by the ground radar at Odessa and Sierra Greed, but we’ll have to evade pursuit by blending into the darkness. If we depart at 8:00 PM, we should arrive at Chandler Fortress around 6:00 AM, just after sunrise. Taking off at night will be difficult, but landing is much harder."

"Agreed," Balthazar nodded.

"That’s reasonable. We’ll be flying on instruments through enemy territory with unknown weather conditions, but given the circumstances, we have no other choice... I’ll assign you the main pilot seat. During air combat or bad weather, consult with Illia and take turns at the controls. We’ll depart at 8:30 PM. Eat dinner before then."

"Understood."

Kiyoaki gave a sharp salute and turned on his heel to leave. But just as he did, Balthazar called out to him.

"There’s one thing that concerns me." "...?" "You and Illia. Your current rift. If the pilots are at odds, it will be impossible to get through a critical situation. Use the time before departure to reconcile with Illia. I don’t expect you to reach perfect harmony, but you should clear up any emotional baggage."

"...Yes."

The concern was valid. If they took off with the relationship between him and Illia as it stood, there was no way they’d be able to face a powerful enemy together. Given the cumbersome nature of the airship, they would have to rely on their piloting skills to survive any attack. He couldn't afford to let his poor coordination with Illia be the reason the entire crew perished.

"I’ll go find Illia." "Good. Take this with you." Balthazar handed over a revolver. It was loaded with six rounds.

"I saw smoke rising from deep within the island earlier today. It seems there are locals around. If you're in danger, don't hesitate to shoot."

"Understood."

Kiyoaki raised his head and headed into the grove where Illia had disappeared earlier. He hadn't seen her since, but he hoped she was alright.

Illia sat alone on a large rock jutting out into the stream, her long legs stretched out lazily in front of her.

The surface of the water reflected the colors of the forest, shimmering in a jade-like green. Occasionally, an unknown bird would cry out from beyond the veil of silence. Even with her eyes closed, the intense midsummer sunlight pierced through her eyelids.

Just sitting like this, the wind from the valley should have washed away the unpleasant memories from the night before—but it didn’t.

──My mortal enemy saw me naked.

That single fact was lodged deep within her chest and refused to leave. She felt frustrated, pitiful, and utterly miserable.

──Sakagami Masaharu's son must be mocking me.

──Because I’m a woman.

Illia glanced down at her own chest. As always, it was tightly bound with cloth to the point of pain, making the swelling barely noticeable.

──I wish I didn’t have these.

A surge of resentment rose within her. The words her father had repeated countless times during his drunken rants echoed in her ears from her childhood.

"If only you had been born a man."

Illia had been born after Karsten lost his right arm, so the father she knew was not the great ace pilot, but an alcoholic clinging to memories of his past. He longed for Illia to earn the title of "King of the Skies" and subjected his only daughter to rigorous training and endless studies, from morning until night, to master flying.

When Illia was six, her mother left the house. After that, her father sank deeper into his drinking, and his focus on Illia’s education intensified. Raised entirely as a boy, Illia never played like other girls her age, never had friends, and instead spent her time sitting in the cockpit of a decommissioned fighter jet in their yard, memorizing the meaning of every gauge, lever, switch, pedal, and control stick, flying imaginary battles in the sky.

Despite the harsh words and occasional physical punishment from her drunken father, Illia endured. When her father became incoherent, he often cursed the name of Sakagami Masaharu while beating Illia. The hatred he bore for the man who had taken his right arm, his status, and his ability to fly poured into Illia’s small body. Curled up on the ground, hands covering her head, she remembered the name “Sakagami” as her father’s fists and sticks rained down on her.

Illia worked hard. From the moment she became aware of herself until now, she had devoted every moment to mastering aviation.

No matter how miserable things were, she couldn’t abandon her father because she still loved him. At dinner, when her father, glass of cheap wine in hand, spoke of past aerial battles and comrades, he seemed happy. Even though she had heard the same stories dozens of times, she could vividly imagine him soaring through the skies, shooting down enemies, and she listened eagerly. Someday, she wanted to fly like that herself.

Her unchanging goal was to become St Vault’s King of the Skies and see her father smile with pride.

And now, fate had brought her face to face with Sakagami Masaharu's son, sharing a cockpit beside him. She didn’t want to lose, and she wanted to make sure he knew, deep in his bones, that he could never beat her in the sky. Someday they would engage in a mock aerial battle, but before that, she would make him give up and admit defeat.

But then.

──He saw me naked.

The thought returned, dragging her back down into despair.

──Of all people, it had to be him.

Her most hated enemy had seen what she wanted least to be seen. Up close, fully exposed. He was surely mocking her chest at this very moment.

──I wish I had been born a man.

She resented her overly large chest. She wished she could cut it off. It got in the way of handling the control stick and was nothing but a hindrance to a pilot.

"Why were you born a woman?"

Her father’s words echoed again in her mind. Even covering her ears and closing her eyes couldn’t dispel the image of her father’s angry face and those hateful words.

Splash.

At that moment, a sound broke through the water nearby. "...?" Illia raised her head, her daydream shattered. Standing in the stream was a shabby-looking man. "?!" He looked to be in his fifties. His reddish-brown skin was sun-worn, his long, curly hair was unkempt, and he wore a sleeveless beige shirt that had probably once been white, now filthy. His shorts were wrinkled, and he wore worn-out boots. His sunken eyes stared directly at Illia.

──A local. So they were here.

Illia slowly nodded at the man, careful not to provoke him. The man remained still, silently observing her. His eyes were unusually white.

In the archipelago, whenever one crash-landed on an island, the first priority was to be cautious when making contact with the locals. The four thousand islands were home to closed communities, each with distinct races, cultures, and temperaments. Some islands were inhabited by peaceful farmers, while others were controlled by cults, pastoral islands where sheep outnumbered people, islands that expelled all outsiders, and islands where cannibalism was practiced. It was impossible to know the nature of an island until one landed.

Illia rose slowly from the rock, observing the man without making any sudden movements.

──Is he peaceful or aggressive?

That was the first thing to determine. Without prejudice, one should respect the other’s humanity and approach the first contact with care. A smile was always the best starting point.

Illia tried to smile.

But──no matter how much her brain commanded her to “smile,” her expression didn’t move.

Panicking inside, she tried again, but the muscles of her face seemed confused, frozen from having remained expressionless for so long.

──I... I don’t know how to smile...! Realizing this, she despaired at herself. Her emotional development had been stunted. Since childhood, her heart and body had been shaped solely for piloting planes by her father’s education, leaving her without the ability to express honest emotions through facial expressions or actions.

She was familiar with anger and sadness, and those emotions showed on her face. But joy, happiness, and other bright feelings were foreign to her, so her face couldn’t reflect them at all.

In an aircraft, she could easily execute the battle maneuvers she envisioned in the sky. But once she left the cockpit, she didn’t know how to smile.

Feeling utterly pathetic, Illia decided to try speaking gently to the local man instead.

"Hello. Due to unavoidable circumstances, I’ve crash-landed on this island. I’m not here to disrupt the peace of your island, so please don’t worry."

She spoke as kindly as possible, but the words came out with a cold, metallic ring, devoid of any humanity. The man remained expressionless, taking a step toward her.

"I wish for peaceful contact. I’m sure you are a proud people who maintain your autonomy and independence. We respect that. We mean no harm."

As she spoke, Illia took a step back.

A dangerous gleam flickered in the man's eyes as he approached. A rustle came from the bushes behind her. Turning her head, she saw five more men emerge from the trees.

They wore ragged jeans and shorts, filthy shirts that hadn’t been washed in ages, and they had yellowed teeth and unnaturally large, pale eyes. One of them, to make matters worse, held a metal farming tool in his hand. The men ranged in age from an ugly youth in his twenties to a foul-smelling man in his sixties, all of them staring at Illia with burning intensity.

She was completely surrounded by the six men. A chill of dread ran down her spine. Regretting her lack of a weapon, Illia nonetheless maintained her composure and spoke to the men firmly.

"We do not seek a fight. I apologize for trespassing on your land. We’ll leave immediately, so there’s no need for violence—"

Before she could finish, the first man let out a strange cry and lunged at her.

Their intentions were clear now. Illia bit her lip and kicked the man hard in the groin.

The man let out a scream and collapsed in agony. The others snickered, and one of them reached out to grab Illia.

Illia’s hand struck the man's neck, sending him crumpling to the ground without a sound. She had learned these combat techniques in the officer academy, and against untrained civIllians, she was more than capable.

"I do not wish for unnecessary violence. Back off."

Without even glancing at the two fallen men, Illia commanded the remaining four. But they continued to leer at her, their eyes still fixed on her body.

Sensing a hostile presence from behind, she spun around. A farming tool was raised, coming down toward her. She dodged the blow with quick footwork. The iron fork-like prongs grazed her hair and embedded themselves deep into the ground.

Sweat trickled down her temple. She prepared to strike back but found her legs wouldn’t move.

"?!"

The man she had kicked earlier had grabbed her ankle. At the same time, the other men rushed toward her.

"Let go of me!!"

There was no way to stop them. Their overpowering stench filled her nose. Her vision blurred. The men’s rough hands entangled her, attempting to force her into submission.

"Stop it!! Let go of me!!"

She screamed, but all she received in return was their coarse laughter. Strong arms pinned her hands, and she could smell their foul breath as several hands began to restrain her limbs.

──I’m going to be violated.

──Because I’m a woman.

Tears welled up in her eyes. At that moment— A gunshot echoed through the sky. The sound reverberated off the distant mountains. The scent of gunpowder filled the air. The men froze.

"Let her go!"

A firm, commanding voice called out.

Through the gap between the men, Illia caught a glimpse.

Kiyoaki Sakagami stood there, his revolver pointed skyward, glaring fiercely at the men.

Tears welled up again, but these were different from the ones she had shed earlier, Illia thought.

Kiyoaki lowered his gun, aimed at the ground, and fired again.

The loud crack of the shot startled the men. The hands holding Illia began to loosen.

"Illia, come here...!"

Breaking free from their grip, Illia hurried toward Kiyoaki, hiding behind him and pulling her disheveled clothes together over her chest. Her heart pounded furiously, and her legs trembled uncontrollably.

"Don’t move. I said, don’t move..."

Kiyoaki pointed his gun at the men, slowly retreating step by step.

The men exchanged glances, hesitating but still approaching cautiously. "I said don’t move! If you move, I’ll shoot. I’m serious!" Kiyoaki shouted in a firm tone, aiming the gun directly at the man’s forehead.

But the men, their eyes still gleaming with that eerie light, continued to approach.

Kiyoaki didn't shoot. No, he couldn’t shoot. He had never killed a person before.

"Illia, run away. I’ll handle this," Kiyoaki whispered.

Illia, clutching the front of her torn military uniform with both hands, forced herself to speak with a brave voice.

"I won’t let you act all tough. I’ll fight too." "Just go! Warn the others—" Kiyoaki began to yell when, suddenly, the bushes beside them rustled violently. "?!" A large man emerged out of nowhere, tackling Kiyoaki to the ground.

Kiyoaki tried to shoot, but the man’s hit to his waist knocked him over, pinning his gun hand to the ground.

"Kiyoaki!!"

Illia’s scream tore through the air. At the same moment, the other four men lunged at her again.

"Ugh!"

She kicked one, punched another in the jaw, but the third man grabbed her, forcing her down to the ground.

"Stop it!! Don’t touch her, stop it!!"

Kiyoaki's desperate cries echoed through the forest as the men piled on top of Illia's struggling body.

Illia screamed, but her voice was drowned out by the men’s rough laughter. "Kill me instead, stop it, let Illia go!!" Kiyoaki’s heart-wrenching pleas went unheard. The large man holding him down struck him repeatedly with his fists.

With each blow, Kiyoaki’s consciousness began to fade. Blood poured from his nose as he regretted not shooting when he had the chance.

He should have shot. Balthazar had warned him. He had let his own sentimentality stop him from shooting a dangerous enemy, and now, they were both paying the price. In war, if you don’t shoot, you’ll be shot. He hadn’t followed that simple rule. Now, it was too late. He would be killed, and Illia would be horribly violated by these men.

If only he could turn back time, he would shoot without hesitation. No apology could make up for his failure to protect her.

Just then.

A flash of silver.

The giant man’s neck twisted at an unnatural angle, and he collapsed sideways, lifeless.

"?!"

The weight lifted off him, and Kiyoaki looked up in shock.

A lithe, swift figure had closed the distance between them and the men pinning Illia down.

The sound of a blade cutting through the air sliced through the men’s vile laughter.

Two of the men collapsed without even managing a scream, their necks twisted and broken.

A voice, clear and commanding, echoed through the scene. "You cannot complain if you’re killed, can you?" After a single slash, Kagura Murasaki stared down the remaining two men, her sword lowered at an angle.

"Don’t expect any mercy. I’m in a foul mood."

The long sword she always wore at her side was now drawn, gleaming with a fierce

silver light.

From Kagura’s presence radiated a pale, ghostly aura. Even the blade itself seemed to emanate an invisible mist.

Kagura was enraged, and it showed.

The two men who had been holding Illia stood up slowly. Though they recognized she was holding a sword, they smirked, thinking they could overpower a girl.

One of the men raised his farming tool above his head and charged at Kagura with a yell.

Her eyes glinted with deadly intensity. "Filth." With a silent strike, she sliced diagonally from lower right to upper left. The air itself seemed to split. The farming tool was cleaved in two, the handle falling from the man’s hand. "Be gone." Kagura’s blade followed the same arc downwards, twisting the man’s neck and sending him collapsing to the ground.

Beyond the fallen man, the remaining three men let out threatening shouts. Kagura moved like a sleek leopard, closing the distance in a flash. Another slash cut through the air.

One more man fell. Kagura spun gracefully, like a dancer, and with a horizontal slash, two more were dispatched.

Each time the sword caught the sunlight, another man collapsed to the ground.

Finally, Kagura struck the last remaining man in the pit of his stomach with the butt of her sword. He doubled over, gasping in pain.

"Illia, can you stand?"

Kagura asked, her voice calm as she held her sword's hilt firmly against the man’s gut. Illia gritted her teeth and managed to get to her feet.

"Do whatever you want to him." "...Understood."

Without even wiping the dirt off her face, Illia grabbed the man by the legs and kicked him hard between the legs.

His agonized scream echoed through the forest. It was a brutal kick that even made Kiyoaki wince. Kagura nodded in satisfaction.

"It was the back of the blade. They’re all still alive. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. Feel free to punish them as you see fit."

Illia wiped her eyes once and then, without a word, began to approach each man, kicking and stomping on their groins as much as she wanted. Their screams, like wild boars being branded, rang out one by one.

It was a terrifying sight. They would likely never recover from their injuries. Illia showed no expression, exacting on each man what they had tried to do to her.

Because she was a woman, she didn’t know how to hold back. Whether she knew it or not, she instinctively inflicted the worst possible pain on each one of them.

It was a scene that made every man want to look away. Kiyoaki silently swore never to anger Illia.

"...Thank you, Vice Captain. You saved me."

After thoroughly crushing the source of each man’s existence and leaving them useless, Illia took a deep breath and thanked Kagura.

Kagura smiled and sheathed her sword. Illia glanced at the hilt and its decoration.

"Is that sword from the samurai of the Akitsu Federation?"

"Yes. I was born into a family of Samurai. For generations, we served as sword instructors to the shogun's household. Because of that, I was trained thoroughly in the secret techniques from a young age."

"I was mesmerized. Your control of distance and timing seem applicable to aerial combat."

"Many aces in the Akitsu Federation study swordsmanship to improve their skills. I’m thinking of starting a kendo club once I join the Air Hunt. Would you like to join?"

"I’d be honored. Today, I realized the necessity of swordsmanship. Please teach me."

"Good. Kiyoaki, you’ll join too, right?" "Yes. If I’m welcome." "Great, now I’ve got two members already. Not bad. Let’s head back. Looks like we won’t have peace until nightfall."

Kagura’s usual casual tone returned as she prompted them. Kiyoaki and Illia nodded, and the three of them began walking together.

Illia walked silently, heading toward the edge of the forest. Kiyoaki walked beside her, saying nothing.

"Kiyoaki."

Illia suddenly muttered. "Hm?" "...Your nose is bleeding."

In her usual blunt tone, she pointed it out. When Kiyoaki touched his nose, sure enough, blood was dripping down.

"It’s fine. It’ll stop soon."

He said cheerfully, and Illia stiffened, pulling a white handkerchief from her breast pocket.

"...Use this."

Without even looking at him, she roughly shoved the handkerchief in front of him. Kiyoaki blinked in surprise before accepting her gesture.

"...Thanks. I’ll wash it and give it back."

"...No. You don’t need to return it... It’s dirty."

Kiyoaki smiled wryly and wiped the blood from his nose. The handkerchief smelled nice, and the white fabric was soon stained red. Illia’s face turned as red as the blood, but she kept looking straight ahead.

"When I said it was dirty, I didn’t mean you’re dirty... I just meant the handkerchief is dirty..."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks for the handkerchief." "...Yeah. ...You don’t have to return it..."

Mumbling awkwardly, Illia walked ahead with stiff, exaggerated movements.