After finishing my conversation with Abel, I stepped out of the tent. It was late, and it seemed everyone had returned to their tents, leaving the campsite quiet.
The cool night breeze caressed my face, making me feel somewhat sentimental. To clear my mind, I started walking toward the hill below the camp.
Unlike yesterday, when there were quite a few people around to take a look, today there wasn’t a single soul in sight.
“Ah, today’s expedition was incredibly taxing, after all.”
Most likely, everyone was so exhausted that they decided to turn in early.
Taking slow steps, I crushed the grass beneath my feet, enjoying the gentle breeze brushing against my skin.
Sibley, who usually enjoyed the wind with me, seemed unusually tired today, having returned to the spirit realm without so much as a word.
Even the connection through the link seemed severed, as I couldn’t hear his voice in my head. While lost in such idle thoughts, I soon noticed someone sitting at a distance.
Her untied hair draping over the meadow, her lean figure sitting quietly; though she had gained some weight compared to before, she was still frail-looking.
“Yurph?”
The girl with piercing blue eyes, Yurph, was squatting with her gaze fixed quietly on the sky.
Her frail figure had slightly improved from before but was still unmistakable. As I thought this, I quietly approached her.
Sitting down on the grass with a soft thud, I saw Yurph’s startled face. Her round eyes glanced at me momentarily before she greeted me.
“…Hello.”
“Mm. Hey.”
A usual enough scene. After exchanging greetings, silence once again enveloped us. It wasn’t as suffocatingly awkward as before but still felt a bit uncomfortable.
Yurph, seemingly unperturbed by the atmosphere, continued to gaze at the night sky in silence.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking at the stars.”
Stars, huh?
Following her gaze upward, I saw countless stars scattered across the black canvas.
None of the constellations I remembered from my past life were familiar, but the sight was undeniably beautiful, just as it had been before.
Later, the numerous city lights made it almost impossible to see stars like this.
In contrast, here, one only needed to lift their head slightly to see countless stars so bright they almost hurt the eyes.
“Do you believe in the superstitions about constellations, Id?”
“Huh? There are such things?”
At my question, Yurph turned her curious eyes toward me, as if asking how I could not know. Feeling a bit awkward, I averted my gaze.
Not out of reproach, but her gaze seemed purely questioning, and for a moment, it felt a little painful.
For a while, she closed her eyes and began to explain about the superstitions.
“According to superstition, each constellation in the sky represents the destinies of people.”
“These constellations?”
At my questioning tone, she nodded slowly. It was hard to immediately believe such superstitions—after all, if there were billions of people in this world, wouldn’t the sky always have to be daylight to account for all the constellations?
While I was lost in such thoughts, Yurph quietly continued her explanation.
“It’s quite a famous superstition. A lot of people believe in it.”
Among the typical believers was the Pope.
Yurph added this casually, causing me to close my mouth, which had been slightly open. If anyone should know more about this world than I do, it would be the Pope of the Goddess Church.
“Id, do you see any stars in the sky that shine especially bright?”
“That…”
I looked up again at the night sky.
Sure enough, among the stars radiating white light, one stood out, twinkling more intensely than the others.
But considering constellations, there was only this one star in sight, and it flickered as if it might go out at any moment.
Though I knew superstitions were just that—superstitions—some ominous feeling crept into me. Just as I was about to delve deeper into those thoughts, Yurph spoke again.
“I don’t see it.”
“Huh?”
Turning my head, I saw her face, tinged with a bittersweet smile.
Yurph stretched out her emaciated hand toward the sky, her arm shaking pitifully in longing, as if trying to touch the stars above.
“There are no constellations representing me in this night sky.”
“Meaning…”
“I’m an outsider to this world.”
Outsider.
At the familiar word, I paused. The emotion on her face was an intense sense of loneliness.
What circumstances had led this young girl to such an expression?
Her dispirited and seemingly defeated demeanor reminded me of myself in a past life, making it impossible to turn away.
“Because, ultimately, I’m fake.”
Fake. The implications of this word were unclear to me, but I had a vague understanding of the thoughts going through her mind.
I had once thought similar things about myself when comparing myself to my twin sister.
My twin sister, who excelled at everything. Next to her, I was always criticized and belittled by our parents.
During the stormy days of middle school, I had even thought of myself as a replacement for my sister, a mere counterfeit.
Believing that as a counterfeit, I was nothing but useless baggage, I had harbored deep emotional wounds.
And to make matters worse, the people around me were harsh.
Eventually, when the festering wounds burst open, I ended up saying something I would regret for the rest of my life to my sister.
Just like when Adelle caused Lily pain.
“Wow, still acting so foolish, huh.”
Swallowing the bitter smile with effort, I asked Yurph:
“Is being real or fake really that important?”
Ultimately, I wanted to convey a simple message.
Even if there were such things as true and false selves—so what if I happened to be the false version? How important was that, really?
“That…”
At my question, Yurph’s eyes widened in surprise. It seemed like she had never entertained such thoughts, for she faltered, unable to provide a response.
Perhaps Yurph believed herself to be a fake saint.
She had mentioned that her fasting was to make the Pope rescind his decision to recommend her as a candidate for the saint.
But from what I had observed, she was more than worthy of the title of saint.
Even when weakened by fasting, she had freely bestowed healing and blessings upon the people.
What’s more, she had risked her life to confront the mental interference affecting the masses.
If we refused to call such a person a saint, who else could fit that title?
“But fakes are never liked by anyone, right?”
“Do you really think so?”
Yurph hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded. There was an undeniable trace of hopelessness and resignation on her face, making it hard to look at.
She reminded me too much of my past self.
“I had a twin sister… once.”
A past I had never revealed to anyone. A memory Adelle von Este could not possibly have known.
Because Adelle had neither a sister nor a brother.
But, borrowing the identity of the spirit knight Id, I felt I could share it.
Perhaps one day I might tell Abel as well, but for now, I had no intention of revealing it.
To do so would require exposing myself as a reincarnated soul—a claim too absurd for him to believe.
Just as such idle thoughts threatened to take over, Yurph spoke again.
“Sister…?”
“Yeah. She was amazing.”
My sister was truly remarkable, always excelling in everything—academics, sports, even embroidery, which I thought I was good at.
Thus, I had always lived in her shadow. Not just my classmates and teachers, but even my own parents preferred her.
Since we were twins and looked identical, people eventually began to regard me as a mere replacement for her.
Boys who approached me, even my own parents, eventually treated me as nothing more than a substitute for her. Eventually, I even started to see myself that way.
“The term ‘fake’…”
“Yeah. I felt like I was a fake version of her.”
Just as I began to feel like I was merely a copy of my sister, she succeeded in getting into a prestigious university—a feat that was especially impressive given our family’s modest means.
In worldly terms, it was akin to a commoner getting accepted to the Royal Academy—an extraordinary achievement. And once again, I was overshadowed.
“I thought I was nothing more than a worthless imitation.”
That’s why I climbed to the rooftop.
As I stood at the railing, the first person to rush to me wasn’t a friend or even our parents—it was my sister.
She cried while desperately grabbing me, shouting one last plea.
“You’re not a replacement for me. You’re valuable just as you are.”
Even after she said that, I disregarded her words and lashed out cruelly.
I asked her when she had ever cared about me, calling her a thorn in my side.
And even as we argued, just as I was about to fall over the railing, my sister threw herself to save me.
The last smile I saw on her face remains unforgettable to this day.
“Indeed. Whether you’re real or a fake—it’s not really important.”
“…”
“What matters is the kind of person you are.”
If I had realized this sooner, perhaps I wouldn’t have said such cruel words to her.
If only I had understood that I wasn’t merely her shadow, but a kind-hearted sister in my own right, perhaps things would have been different.
“Can I ask you something?”
“…Yes.”
Turning to her, I saw Yurph’s eyes brimming with moisture.
Seeing that, I chuckled softly and retrieved a handkerchief from my pocket, offering it to her.
“Who do you think you are?”
At my question, Yurph bowed her head, hesitating momentarily, before softly replying:
“…I… I need some time to think.”
“Alright. I understand.”
I stood up from where I had been sitting. Turning around, I saw Yurph with her eyes closed, lost in deep thought.
I didn’t know exactly what her concerns were.
But at the very least, I hoped she wouldn’t walk the same path I once did.
That was all I could wish for.
