Chapter 26

Ariana turned her head to me only after Sena had completely disappeared down the hallway.

The expression that had been full of laughter turned emotionless in an instant.

“Princess, now…?

Why are you sitting down? What’s that red stuff? Blood? No, why.”

And then, that emotionless expression shattered the moment her eyes landed on me.

The look of utter panic on her face was impressive.

I’d never seen her like that before, which made it even more striking.

Well, it’s not like it was a pleasant sight to begin with.

A princess crouched down, curling up, with blood dripping from her wrist.

Anyone normal would’ve freaked out.

But hey, it’s not like this is the first time you’ve seen this.

How many times have I bled because of you already?

Why are you acting all weird about it now?

Getting all serious like it doesn’t suit you.

Why? Because Ariana’s changed too, hasn’t she?

She never listened to anything before, but now she’s all ears for the one thing I wish she’d ignore.

Like some shameless hypocrite.

Yeah.

I wish I hadn’t figured it out. It would’ve been better if I hadn’t.

The reason she’s acting like this is so obvious it’s annoying.

“It itched. I scratched it a little, and it started bleeding.”

“…Do you really think that makes sense?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Remia…”

She sighed, muttering the princess’s name, but it was clear she wasn’t convinced.

Ironically, it was the first time I’d heard that name since coming to the academy, aside from attendance.

It really shows what kind of life she’s been living.

I slowly raised the corner of my mouth and muttered.

“…It’s true.”

It was my head that itched, but it’s true that I scratched my wrist to endure it.

See? When I tell the truth, you don’t believe me.

It’s disgusting how you judge without even listening properly.

Even if it were a lie, you shouldn’t react like that.

If you’d just teased and mocked me like usual, I could’ve handled it.

Why are you treating me like some fragile doll, carefully helping me up, and gently treating my wrist with that overly emotional expression?

Even if everyone in the world pities me, you, of all people, shouldn’t do that.

You shouldn’t act like you’ve become a completely different person overnight.

What exactly did you hear from me yesterday?

What on earth did I say while I was drunk?

“…What’s been so hard for you? Tell me.

Don’t hurt yourself, just tell me, and I’ll change. So please.”

You don’t even listen when I talk.

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

Yeah, it’s not just you.

There’s no one out there who truly sees me for who I am.

“Nothing.

There’s nothing Ariana needs to change.”

So I told her.

You’re not going to change anyway, so I’ll adapt like I always do.

If I keep chipping away at the princess, cutting and carving, I’ll manage somehow.

The first time’s hard, but is the second time any easier?

Where should I go next?

Maybe the wrist is good.

“Please tell me properly, Princess.

You cut your wrist yourself, there’s no way there’s no reason.

Communication is really important.”

“Shall we go?”

I deliberately cut her off and pulled her hand, tired of her nonsense.

Luckily, Ariana, though flustered, followed without a word.

Maybe her body stiffened from the suddenness, or maybe she didn’t want to provoke me further because I looked unstable.

I don’t know which, but it’s the first time I’ve taken the lead.

Should I be happy about it?

I don’t know.

***

From that day on, Ariana started sticking to me all day long.

She sat next to me like it was natural and followed me everywhere I went.

During lunch, she forced me to eat when I tried to skip it.

The group of commoners, including Zhang, didn’t dare touch me while she was around.

They’d been warned the day before, after all.

No one in their right mind would approach me now.

Even Sena, who had been persistently following me, stopped crossing paths with me after that day.

The pitying gazes that used to follow me were now directed at Ariana, leaving me in the background.

So, my daily life, devoid of the only stimulation I had—violence—became more peaceful and, at the same time, more boring than ever.

The next day, and the day after that.

For weeks on end.

Except for the fact that Ariana didn’t leave my side while we were in class, or even in private spaces like the bathroom or changing room, or that she kept trying to follow me to my room after classes ended, it was an extremely ordinary daily life.

In a way, it might be the reality I’d always wished for.

Back then, life was also a peaceful, monotonous repetition day after day.

After being thrown into this unfamiliar world, I’d spent years praying for a tranquil life.

The fact that the one providing it was Ariana, who had tormented me the most, was a bit of a hurdle, but I was in no position to be picky, so I accepted it gratefully.

In fact, the dramatic change made my overreaction to her hypocrisy a few weeks ago seem strange.

I should be happier now than ever.

I’m living the ideal life I dreamed of.

But.

Surely, I should be.

I have to be.

But.

Why.

Am I.

Now.

Why.

“Why is it so hard to even breathe?”

I muttered to myself as I brought the knife I’d prepared that day to my left wrist.

My head hurts all day.

It feels like something’s covering me, making me foggy.

It’s like someone’s choking me, making it hard to breathe.

Violence, the stimulation that made me feel alive, the pain that was so unbearable when it happened, now feels nostalgic.

My mind must’ve gone somewhere wrong.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t be craving pain like this.

Even during the times I was drowning in depression, I only fantasized about these things.

But now, living an even more boring daily life, I’m actually doing them.

“How did I end up like this, huh?”

I drew a line on my wrist with the knife.

Horizontally, not too deep.

The skin, cut by the sharp blade, drew a red line and began to drip blood after a brief pause.

The pain of being cut by a blade—something you could never call pleasant—

Without realizing it, words slipped out of my mouth as the wave hit.

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?

How can someone feel at peace living the life of a corpse instead of a human?”

The pain, raw and unfiltered, numbed my mind and awakened my reason.

That day, what started as a way to suppress my emotions by digging into myself with my nails has now transformed into an act of proving my existence, my life.

I guess I’m adapting.

Though I’m not sure if you can call this adaptation.

I twisted my wrist, examining the lines from various angles, and protested to the noble lady.

“So, what am I supposed to do?

I already know there’s nothing in me worth calling a ‘self.’

Telling someone who’s always lived the life of a corpse to reclaim a human life is nothing but baseless delusion.”

The horizontal lines on my wrist looked a bit plain.

Impulsively, I made a vertical line with the knife.

Crimson blood trickled down and pooled on the table.

The pain hit late, clearing my foggy mind.

For a moment, it felt a bit like when Ariana gave me the medicine that day.

For someone as numb as me, this level of stimulation is the only way I can feel anything.

That’s why I can’t stop.

The cross-shaped mark on my wrist looked much more aesthetically pleasing now.

After all, pretty things are always better.

If it’s something bad, it should at least look good.

“You shouldn’t do things like this.

Is a life sustained by cutting yourself really worth continuing?”

As I smiled at my wrist, more words slipped out.

The slight improvement in my mood plummeted straight into the abyss.

Ah, please stop.

Let me feel a little better.

Why am I so desperate to torment myself?

“I’m like this because of you.

Because you stopped me from killing myself.

Because you wouldn’t let me end this filthy story of hope that doesn’t exist no matter how hard I look!

I had no choice but to find another way!

And now, how dare you say that to me?”

“I never actually stopped you.

How could I stop something you’re so strongly attached to? We’re practically one and the same.

Maybe you should break the habit of dumping everything on me while secretly not wanting to die.”

Her words made me turn away.

I’m not sure if it’s because they’re not true or because they hit a nerve.

I got so worked up that I blurted out a curse I hadn’t used since coming to this world.

“Shut up. F*ck, shut up!”

“Please refrain from such vulgar language.”

“Why? Why can’t I say it?

This is my body, my brain, my mouth.”

“It’s my body, my brain, and my mouth too.

We’re practically one and the same, remember?”

Now, ‘I’ am…

“Ah, right. So, a person who’s practically one and the same is acting like a crazy b*tch all by herself?

Yeah, I’ve been crazy all along. I was never right in the head.”

“Why act so surprised? You already knew.

Whether it’s schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, autism, dissociative identity disorder, neurosis, or whatever, this state can only be explained as mental illness.”

Now, the noble lady is…

“Ah, right. I know. I know very well.

That’s why I’m carving away at this trashy body.

Because there’s no mental hospital in this f*cked-up world. The easiest solution—dumping pills into a broken brain—is gone!”

“Do you really have to carve it away?

I don’t want to hurt anymore.

You don’t really want to hurt or die either, do you?”

Now, Remia Adelian is…

“I wanted to live. Yeah, who would want to die from the start?”

“Then live.

Throw away the knife, look around, and find a way to endure this life.”

Now, *** is…

“I can’t do that, so this is what I’m doing.

Even if I survive and graduate from the Academy, what changes? I just go back to the organization.

There’s no hope. Not even a tiny thread of hope for me.

Living or dying makes no difference! You know all of this too. Now, I am…”

Now, I am…

Now, I am…

Now, I am…

Who am I fighting?

With my self-harmed arm dripping blood, my unfocused eyes staring into the void.

Laughing softly.

Turning serious.

Raising my voice.

Blushing.

Whining.

Now, I’m fighting all by myself.

The noble lady, ‘me’—it’s all me.

Ah, I can’t even deny I’m mentally ill anymore.

I’m completely broken, so pretending to be normal in front of others is out of the question.

Ariana will probably use this as an excuse to barge into my room.

It’s funny.

This situation is so f*cking hilarious.

“…Ah, hahaha, hic, heh.”

I need medicine.

Enough medicine to cover up all this brokenness.

Yes, medicine.

There was one in this world too—a cure-all.

“Help me, Ariana. Please, give me some medicine.”

I need medicine, medsmedsmedsmedsmeds.

I laughed, cried, and screamed.

My hysterical voice echoed through the empty dorm room.

Ah, really.

I don’t want to hear it.