novelraw Chapter 73 : Chapter 73
Chapter 73 : Chapter 73
Chapter 73: A Flowering Bone (1)
The next morning, in the capital Naflansee.
The edge of the horizon was shadowed. Was a rain cloud approaching? Fleur thought, making a visor with her hand. The air, stained with moisture, shook Fleur’s hair.
The distance was dark, but the vicinity was bright. A beautiful garden was spread out beside Fleur. The front yard of the Imperial Citizen Hospital. Fleur was on her way back after completing the discharge procedures. To the Saint-Pierre estate, to attend a banquet.
“Lady Fleur, I have come to escort you.”
That was why.
A servant stood beside Fleur.
Louise Bourdieux. A girl with rose-colored hair cut short. A peer she had been indebted to in her childhood. Fleur used to go see Pertillier while wearing Louise’s clothes.
“It’s been a while, Louise. You’ve become so pretty, haven’t you?”
“I wonder. I’m not interested in dressing up.”
“That’s a little unpleasant. You’ve become such a wonderful lady. When you were a child, you would often burst into tears…”
“That’s because you stole my clothes, my lady.”
Louise let out a sigh.
She then picked up the bag placed next to Fleur.
A mana-powered vehicle was parked in front of the main gate. Fleur crossed the garden, following Louise who was walking ahead.
Stepping on the stone path,
she passed between the flower petals.
Ignoring the chill of early winter,
as she was walking with a steadfast smile,
‘……Monika.’
Swoosh.
Monika, emerging from between the bushes.
Fleur’s light blue eyes trembled slightly. She hadn't expected Monika to appear. Dressed in her school uniform, Monika approached, sweeping back her billowing black hair. She stood in front of Fleur and raised her amber eyes.
‘Fleur…….’
Monika just stared at Fleur.
She had heard almost the entire conversation. She had overheard the secret talk between Abel and Fleur. Something about the Parousia Denomination, degenerating into a Demon Human, and in the midst of it, words with unknown meanings were mixed. But she could grasp the conclusion.
Fleur de Saint-Pierre intends to die. The annihilation of her own family was Fleur’s cherished desire. She had offered her life to achieve it. Although she had adorned herself to the fullest, the flower crown Fleur was holding was already dead.
And so, Fleur did not speak.
The dead are silent. She just passed by Monika.
As she was hastening her steps in silence,
“Hey.”
Squeeze.
Monika gritted her teeth.
“Don’t ignore me.”
She then looked back at Fleur.
Fleur’s foot, which had been stepping on the stone path, paused.
“I’m here, Fleur.”
Ah.
A breath escaped from Fleur’s lips.
So it’s no use. Fleur thought between the scattering puffs of air. In front of that child, nothing goes as planned. I can’t maintain my composure, and I end up hovering around her like a spoiled child. And so, Fleur smiled.
“Louise, would you mind going to the vehicle first?”
It will only take a moment.
I have something to take care of, she said.
As Fleur opened her mouth,
“Understood, my lady.”
Louise’s gaze tilted towards Monika.
Is she her friend? The air was too heavy for that. Above all, the prosthetic arm. Louise glanced at Monika’s prosthetic arm. A girl with a disability. Was the prosthetic arm made with a monster as material? Louise shrugged her shoulders. It was not a matter for a mere servant to question.
“Please hurry. The head of the family is waiting.”
The sound of footsteps, crossing the silence.
Louise retreated, and Monika and Fleur faced each other. Their lips were equally heavy, but Monika was expressionless and Fleur was putting strength into the corners of her mouth.
“Fleur de Saint-Pierre.”
And so, the one who opened her mouth first was Monika, and
“Fleur Epanoui.”
Fleur immediately corrected her.
“Pertillier Epanoui. My mother’s name before she was married. No one would know now. It wasn't written in the documents Professor Argento collected. But I wanted to inherit her surname. I have lived with the conviction that I have inherited it.”
“……Right.”
Monika let out a sigh.
Osmond Epanoui. She recalled the man she had met at the Arcturus family’s villa. Was Osmond Fleur’s hidden sibling? No, that’s too easy a prediction. In the first place, there were too many things she didn't know. What had that child been hiding? Monika thought, looking down at Fleur’s shadow. The shadow that stained the garden felt distant.
“I heard everything. The conversation between you and Teacher Abel……”
How many dead she had kept in her shadow,
and what a huge resentment she had hidden behind her smile.
I don't know. I just don't know.
“That I shouldn't think of taking revenge on you……”
She just recalled.
On a bench in the training ground late at night,
the words Fleur had spoken in a quiet tone.
“……So this was why. It was so you could destroy the family yourself.”
“That’s right.”
Fleur answered readily.
“I didn't want you to become like me. You shouldn't live for the purpose of revenge. That's not a process of life. It’s just a procedure of death. I was planning to make you unable to harbor any desire for revenge even if I had to threaten you, but it was truly a relief. Because your mother had left her last words.”
That you must survive.
And so, because you could live, she said.
Fleur whispered, fumbling with the flower crown.
“What was your mother like?”
“She was a beautiful person.”
To Monika’s question, Fleur answered without hesitation.
“She was a truly beautiful person.”
A withered flower petal brushed against Fleur’s hand.
It was rough. The leaf scraped her skin, but Fleur didn’t mind.
She just talked. About Pertillier. A commoner born with divine power, a woman whose life was shattered by the fanaticism of the Saint-Pierre family. Because she would mess up her chamber every day and scream in a fit of madness, a mother that only Fleur had considered beautiful.
But it was strange. The more she spoke, the more Fleur ended up talking about herself.
Why was it? Fleur wondered. A clear answer did not come to mind. As a sigh welled up, she couldn't even hold it back and ended up muttering.
It would have been better if I didn't exist, she said.
“Monika is……”
Fleur’s hands became busy.
She busily rummaged through the flower stems. They were all withered, but she still desperately picked out a flower. The flower language of Rudbeckia is eternal happiness. Carnation is a mother’s love, Allium is infinite sadness, Narcissus is pride, Lily is a clean heart. What flower should I give you? Fleur pondered, mumbling her lips, and
“……You hate me, don't you?”
she concluded that it was all wrong.
No flower can suit you.
Flower language cannot become a true feeling. Fleur realized, putting strength into her fingers.
“I’m sorry. I knew I was wrong.”
Sway.
A scattering flower petal.
“I didn't learn. I don’t know how to love someone, how to be considerate of someone, how to share friendship with someone. I’m just barely imitating it. Because I’ve never given my heart to anyone. Because I didn't know how to convey my feelings.”
Sway again.
Futilely fluttering flower petals.
“It must have been scary for you.”
“Fleur, to me……”
Monika opened her mouth.
But her words trailed off. What should she continue with? Monika bit her lower lip.
The flower crown, woven in a circle, was scattering. Thump, thud. The clumsily plucked petals fluttered in the direction of the wind. The flower language didn’t matter. They were all light, and unbearably futile. Monika’s words were the same.
“……It would have been better if you had told me everything.”
“Maybe so.”
But Monika, I think differently.
Fleur whispered so.
“I wished you would never know.”
I thought it would be better for you to be afraid of me,
and to hate me.
Because you wouldn't mind even if I died. I wanted you to receive stolen goods from me, dispose of them, and go far away. I just wanted you to live leisurely, without holding a sword, with a prettier prosthetic arm.
“While running a flower shop or something.”
Because…, she said.
Fleur continued, between the scattering flower petals.
“The thought I had when I first saw you was not something like guilt or responsibility. I couldn’t feel any apology either. Even though I knew you were from Sarrifis, for some reason, my mind went blank and I ended up forgetting in an instant.”
Ah, beautiful.
What a truly beautiful child.
“I ended up having such a thought without realizing it.”
“……Beautiful?”
Monika’s eyes widened.
She was flustered. Because it was a word she hadn't heard in a long time.
She had heard it often in her childhood. But it was a story that had become distant after Sarrifis disappeared. A mere orphan, with a disability, a janitor living in the slums, who would consider her beautiful? It was the same after entering CIAR. In the first place, Monika also had no desire to groom herself.
“Why are you flustered? You are more beautiful than anyone, Monika.”
Fleur was different.
She smiled slightly and shrugged her shoulders.
“People might think differently.”
What about someone like Demian-sunbae?
He will discover a strength from you. Having lived a difficult life and at the end of it, having seized a brilliant talent, he would probably declare that you are strong.
I am different.
I can’t think of you as strong.
What about the janitor friends?
They will probably look at your misfortune as it is. They will deeply empathize with the life you have lived, and will willingly want to be with you.
I am different.
Because I have lived the life of a noble after all.
How will Professor Argento think of you?
I don’t know. He seems to be peeking into your future.
What is certain is this. He must have discovered a potential in you. That’s why he awakened your aura, and it seems he intends to guide you to transfer to CIAR and become a cleric.
I am different.
I don’t like his intentions.
I don’t have the confidence to imagine you facing danger,
and I don't want a scratch on you who is so beautiful.
To someone, your expression may look strong,
but to me, it just seems beautiful.
To someone, your disability may look unfortunate,
but to me, it just seems beautiful.
“I wished it would be beautiful.”
Your future,
like a flower in a pot.
“That’s why it must be wrong.”
It was a mistaken thought.
Monika is not a flower.
Just as Fleur was not a flower in Pertillier’s pot, Monika was also a being that could not be sealed somewhere and cultivated. It was just that she had been stubborn because she was so absurdly beautiful. In the end, it meant she had committed a violence forged from greed.
Like plucking a beautiful wildflower.
Because of the wicked nature of wanting to weave a flower crown, even though it would be vibrant for longer if a human hand did not touch it.
“But I want you to know.”
Fleur spread her palms.
It fluttered from a great distance. The petals that made up the flower crown, holding a faint color.
“The most beautiful thing in this world is──.”
the very people who have survived from this world.
“That’s why my mother was always beautiful──.”
and you are the same.
Even if it’s a sculpture made by a master,
even if it’s a supreme poem, even if it’s a clear truth,
“──it can’t be more beautiful than you.”
Click.
Fleur took a step.
She lightly stepped on the withered flower petals. The flower crown she had steadfastly insisted on had long since scattered. Fleur had no more words to give to Monika. And yet, why was it? Fleur, who stood beside Monika, smiled slightly, and
“Is that why? I still hate it.”
she whispered, erasing her expression.
“I want to break your sword. I want to shatter it into pieces and throw it far away. I want to stop you from becoming a cleric. I want to make you unable to learn how to use a sword, how to face a monster. Let’s burn that ominous armor. I want to try on each of my dresses on you. I want you to eat my food. I want to spend a long time with you. If only you can be safe, I want to lock you up in a cage. I want to be the only one to look at you like that.”
I don't know.
It's endlessly wrong, but
for some reason, I want to keep insisting.
How truly difficult it is. A person’s heart…
“Goodbye, Monika.”
Fleur turned away, leaving behind a faint breath.
There was no lingering attachment. The remaining time was about three days. Even that was ample. The moment she arrived at the Saint-Pierre estate, the plan would begin. Fleur had a grudge to settle.
“No.”
Squeeze.
Monika grabbed Fleur’s wrist.
The stigmata touched her cold skin. The wounds made to resurrect the dead. Fleur’s wrist was covered in marks from being cut by a blade.
“You want me to let you go like this? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Damn it, what on earth is a stigmata?
Monika thought it didn't matter either way.
“You said you’d be executed if you become a Demon Human or something. You want me to let you die? If that was your plan, I wouldn't have been waiting here. I came here to stop you.”
It wasn't that she didn't know. It was because she thought she knew.
That was why she thought she should ignore it. What was engraved on Fleur’s wrist was not a stigmata. It was a wound. Even if the Main Gods named it a stigmata, nothing would change. That child is an evangelist of the God of the Underworld, but in the end, she is just a girl. She becomes a Demon Human if she swallows a monster's core? What on earth does that mean? It's actually a good thing. Since I don't know, there's no need to worry.
She knew resentment.
She also knew the desire for revenge.
So she could say it with confidence.
Go fuck yourself.
“Listen to me, Fleur. Don’t go to the Saint-Pierre estate. Let’s find a way here. There must be a way to save you…”
“There is no way.”
Fleur shook her head.
She swayed while being held by Monika, then stood straight and tilted her head.
“Do you think I should live?”
Fleur’s whisper reached Monika’s ear.
Her sky-blue hair tickled Monika’s neckline.
“Unlike your mother, who told you to survive at all costs, my mother didn’t say such a thing to me. It can’t be helped. It would have been better if someone like me wasn’t born. It would have been better if I didn’t need to be born. So let’s annihilate the Saint-Pierre family. Let’s erase me from this world as well. I’ve lived until now with only that in mind.”
But I was sincere.
The question I asked you, if you were going to kill me,
was a sincere one without a lie. If you had wanted, I would have died for you anytime.
“So, Monika.”
Fleur pulled her hand away from Monika’s grip, and
“If you’re not going to kill me, don’t stop me.”
she left, leaving behind a cold whisper.
That was the end. Monika stood with a dazed expression. She could only watch Fleur’s back. While life could be won through effort, death was not something that could be reached out and grabbed.
Only noise was left behind. The leaves that decorated the garden rustled, pushed by the wind, and the petals that made up Fleur’s flower crown fluttered powerlessly.
‘……Idiot.’
Monika bowed her head.
Idiot, idiot, idiot. She cursed Fleur over and over again.
‘Fleur de Saint-Pierre. No, Fleur Epanoui.’
Monika’s hand reached out powerlessly.
She soon picked up a petal from the flower crown.
‘You would have died? For me?’
She picked up one petal. She picked up another petal.
She gathered the fleetingly scattered petals one by one. As if trying to scoop up all the words Fleur had given her.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
You shouldn't have talked to me about death.
You should have talked about life. You should have said you wanted to live.
‘Because I know everything. Because I think I know.’
I can’t love someone. I can’t be considerate of someone.
I don’t know. I don’t know how to share friendship with someone. Fleur had certainly said that. Only Fleur didn't know, but Monika knew. Because her deceased mother and father, and the people of Sarrifis had taught her. Because she must have lived until now through the emotions they had given her.
But even so, she doesn’t know.
- What is this feeling?
I don't know. What on earth is it?
I don't know what your feelings are.
- How truly difficult it is. A person’s heart…
That’s right. You’re right, Fleur.
Monika thought, gritting her teeth. What on earth is the emotion that lies between us? Did you declare it to me without even knowing that? That I am supremely beautiful, did you whisper so?
Then I hate it. I really hate it. I hated it before and I will hate it in the future. Fleur, I hate you so much.
‘If your mother couldn't say it, I will.’
Monika stood up straight.
Holding the withered flower petals tightly.
‘You are the same.’
And so, she ran.
In the opposite direction from which Fleur had left.
Opposite to the north where the Saint-Pierre estate was located, opposite to the rain clouds approaching from the end of the horizon.
‘You must survive at all costs.’
Deep in her heart,
recalling the last words her mother had given her.
‘I will save you.’
Even if all of this is,
something that can never be achieved.