The Way to Love in the Place of Dead Chapter 4

Silently coughing, the trapped young man was watched by Aran, who turned over the sensation of the pulse he had touched in his mind. The unease he had felt before the building was destroyed still lingered. The eyes glaring at him even from within the water made it all the more so.

“It was force majeure.”

As if he had been betrayed, Aran found himself murmuring at those resentment-filled eyes. The young man, who had perhaps swallowed too much water and could no longer even expel bubbles, squeezed his eyes shut and went limp for only a moment.

Iris approached and placed a hand on Aran’s shoulder.

“It seems this is beyond my ability.”

Drip. Drip. Dripping. Water droplets began to fall from the water prison that had been floating in a perfect sphere. As if it were melting away.

“A real monster, this one.”

When water and fire meet, one of two phenomena occurs.

Enough water extinguishes the fire, or an exceedingly powerful fire evaporates the water.

As evidence of vaporization, white steam billowed out, and the water prison steadily shrank.

The thoroughly drenched young man planted his feet on the ground, spat out water, and even as he staggered, he kindled flames in his hands.

“…”

Aran quietly studied the body that seemed already at its limit, as if it would snap at the slightest touch, and his mind raced down multiple paths. Every alternative that came to mind was dangerously all-or-nothing, and he found himself unable to move easily. That was when it happened.

“He’s alive!!!”

Jude came sprinting out onto the drill ground, shouting at the top of his lungs. He thrust the screen projected above his bracelet forward, urging him to just please look at it.

“I said he’s alive! The kid who was shot!”

Having sprinted at full speed, Jude gasped for breath and showed the screen in front of the young man.

“The cameras are linked to each other, so… he can see you on that side, too.”

Facing the screen, Kay couldn’t easily get the words out, his lips merely quivering. Then the young child, who had just moments ago been hovering between life and death from a gunshot wound, beamed and pointed a finger toward the screen.

[“Huh? Kay! Kay!”]

To the child waving his hand gently, Kay forced out his voice and asked.

“…Ana. Are you hurt anywhere?”

[“Hurt anywhere?”]

The child seemed not even to realize he had been shot, let alone that he’d been healed by a recovery ability. Better that way, Kay thought, genuinely relieved, and changed the question.

“Nothing hurts?”

[“Nothing. But Kay, why are you soaked to the bone? You look like a drowned rat.”]

“That’d be a mouse. If nothing hurts, that’s all that matters. Can you put Lea on?”

As if the screen was moving, the adult in charge of the orphanage appeared.

“It’s because of me. I’m sorry.”

[“It was those Limpus bastards, wasn’t it?”]

“I’ll make sure this never happens again.”

[“What about you? You’ll come back soon, right?”]

“Probably.”

A conversation where nothing could be guaranteed and no promises could be easily made laid bare the reality of their existence.

“You can destroy that device with the camera attached.”

[“I’ll do that. Come back safe.”]

Without answering, Kay merely smiled with his lips, and even long after the connection ended, he stared at the black screen. As if seeing his own reflection there for the first time.

Before long, dozens of military police came running, and as the sound of their boots drew near, Kay’s shoulders flinched—and trembled. Sparks flickered from his hair down, kindling embers, and as he moved toward the source of hostility, Aran, unable to watch any longer, cast a massive barrier between him and the rushing personnel.

Top, bottom, left, right—within the cube-shaped barrier made of light, there were only the two of them.

“Calm down. I can see you have no intention of hurting people.”

Aran removed one glove and showed his open palm, but Kay’s flames did not subside.

‘What is this. He’s like a wild animal, hyper-vigilant and maximally aggressive.’

“The child is safe. If you have no intention of harming anyone, I’ll make sure no one here can attack you. I swear it.”

“…That bastard, I’ll kill him.”

That bastard?

“Ah. You mean Charles? Hold back. The kid doesn’t even remember being shot.”

Aran could see a faint curl at the corner of the emaciated young man’s lips—a young man who looked a full hand’s span shorter than him.

“If there’s a person no one remembers, is that person a person who doesn’t exist?”

The moment he faced that bitter smile, Aran felt the same sting from before.

“If I kill everyone here, kill all the humans in Limpus, kill everyone connected to you. After that, are you a person who doesn’t exist?”

“No.”

Aran answered impassively.

“You’d remain.”

Whether he had expected a provocation in response to his gruesome question, or was simply surprised by the unexpected answer. The pupils within those red eyes dilated. In that instant, Aran seized the bare skin that had torn free from the restraints—as fast as light itself.

“Ngh!”

The reaction of flinching back in shock and trying to pull away was like that of a wild beast caught in a trap.

“Calm down. I don’t intend to hurt you.”

“Don’t make me laugh. You expect me to believe that…!”

“Looking at you up close, I can tell for sure now.”

Still holding onto his arm, Aran closed the distance entirely and lifted the fringe that seemed to hang in his way.

“Your eyes are red, so I was slow to notice. You’re on the verge of going berserk right now.”

The earliest visible sign of an impending rampage is the veins in the eyes. The surrounding nerves and blood vessels expand as if about to burst, leaving the skin above them raised and knotted. There was only so much he could soothe radially from a distance, and Aran, who had been biding his time waiting for an opportunity to make contact, now restrained the power of a man who, had he grown just a little more agitated, would have run rampant—through the skin that touched bare skin.

“How, are you? You… weren’t an esper…?”

The sight of surprise dyeing those widened pupils was fairly worth watching.

“First time seeing a multi?”

“A multi?”

“Cute.”

Contrary to the face that so nakedly revealed emotion, unchecked wavelengths flared up, hot enough to burn his hand.

‘Should I say it’s remarkable he’s even maintaining reason?’

He was already past his limit, yet he panted for breath and glared with wide eyes.

“Let go… don’t!”

“I’m being gentle. Just accept it.”

In guiding, the rank of ability is important, but the compatibility of wavelengths matters even more than that.

In that sense, Aran found the sensation of suppressing Kay’s volcanic wavelengths rather enjoyable.

“Hnngh… let go of this!”

Whether it was because he had no experience with guiding, or simply because the situation of being overpowered by force was unpleasant, Aran too was fairly exhausted from a month of combat and didn’t want to drag this out any longer.

Having already assessed that this was a guy who’d bite his own tongue if told to open his mouth, Aran seized his jaw and applied pressure to create an opening, then pressed their lips together just like that.

The moment their tongues touched, an unprecedented electric current raced through his body in an instant.

∞ ∞ ∞

Thrown into cold water.

Just when the chill encroaches from head to toe, he is pulled out of the barrel, passes naked through the snowy outdoors at minus 10 degrees, and steps inside a tent. After weaving through adults shouting and scrambling to find missing items, he sits down in front of a mirror, and from then on, his day begins.

—Now, it seems we’ve seen everyone there is to see around here, so we’ll move to a different region starting tomorrow. Next is…

In that moment, the troupe leader’s head went flying.

As if it were a firecracker set off to start a performance—pop!—red chunks scattered. Everyone gathered lost their words, then screamed. Inside the tent, where blades and bullets flew wildly, blood and limbs began to litter the ground. So many arms and legs were sailing through the air that it almost looked as if someone invisible were juggling them.

Led by the hand of an older boy who had looked after him, he was shut inside a small barrel, and in the darkness, he held his breath for a very long time. Even as the screams and pleas for mercy flowed past, and kept flowing, he could not move a single thing, relying only on the darkness that let not a single point of light seep through and the sound of his own breathing that was far too loud.

Until someone lifted that impossibly heavy lid and let the light trickle in.

—Hello, child.

The backlight made the face hard to see, but for that very reason, the pure white, gleaming blond hair alone was beautiful and vivid.

For him, who had not known a single proper word nor how to speak at all, that scenery was an intensely powerful, soundless hymn of praise.