Love left the facility in hurried steps. It was late at night.
Her gaze remained glued to the ground as if she was ashamed of something
She passed benches without seeing them, followed a curve in the path she'd walked a hundred times before, and stopped only when the trees grew denser and the lamps thinned. One old tree stood near the lake beside a park, its trunk wide, roots breaking through the soil like knuckles.
She leaned against it and slid down until she was sitting.
The bark was cold through her uniform. Rough. Real.
For a while, she just breathed.
In. Out. In.
Her shoulders trembled despite her efforts to still them. She pressed her forehead into her knees, teeth clenched, as if that alone could keep everything contained.
I'm tired.
The thought came quietly, without drama.
I'm tired of this meaningless existence. What have I ever done to deserve something like this? She then remembered her exact words about Sarah Leodra.
She must be laughing from above right now. At least she died with her dignity. I don't have anything. There is no one in this entire world that cares about me. The ones who did it now are dead.
Her fingers brushed the grass beside her, absentminded, tracing shapes she didn't see.
If I stopped… What is the point of living? I don't have someone that I can live for, nor do I have some grandiose goal to fulfill. It's just suffering that's ahead of me. No matter how I live, the only thing that is certain is her death. Either she will be killed by the church for betraying or by the kingdom for causing deaths. Either way, this leads to a miserable end.
So what if I just died?
The idea didn't frighten her. That scared her more than anything.
She shifted, turning slightly so her back rested fully against the tree, hiding herself behind its trunk. If anyone passed, they wouldn't see her unless they were looking closely. She pulled her knees in and let her head fall back.
A sound escaped her before she could stop it.
A whimper broke through the air
She froze
Then she heard something else.
A soft thud.Then another.
Metal against stone.
Someone was nearby.
Her pulse quickened. Panic sharpened her senses, dragging her back into control. She straightened slightly, wiped at her face with the back of her sleeve, and drew a steady breath.
A figure stood a short-distance away, half-lit by a lamp, half-swallowed by shadow. A boy. White hair catching what little light there was. A black cane rested against his leg as he shifted his stance, bare feet planted on the grass.
He moved again, stepping forward, arms lifting as if testing the space around him. His movements were careful, deliberate. Practiced.
She recognized him then.
Solace Wright.
Right, he used this park for training at night. She thought
He stopped suddenly.
His head turned slightly. Not toward her exactly, but close enough that her breath caught.
"…Are you okay?" he asked.
Love's stomach dropped.
She reacted on instinct.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, altering her tone, roughening it just enough. "Sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you."
There was a pause.
"I wasn't disturbed," he said. "Just… checking."
Another pause, longer this time.
"If you want to be alone," he added, "I can go away."
Her throat tightened.
"No," she said too fast, then forced herself to slow. "It's fine. Really. You don't need to worry."
Silence followed.
She expected him to leave. Expected the sound of the cane tapping away, the space returning to emptiness.
Instead, she heard him shift.
Carefully, he stepped around the tree, keeping his distance, and lowered himself onto the grass on the opposite side. His back met the trunk with a soft sound, mirroring her position without touching her.
He said nothing.
They sat back-to-back against the tree for a long while.
The bark pressed cold through Love's uniform, rough enough that she could feel it through fabric. She focused on that sensation. Something real. Something that wasn't memory.
The boy didn't move. His breathing was steady, measured, like he was counting it.
She hadn't planned to speak.
She didn't know what possessed her when she finally did.
"Can I ask you something?" she said, voice low
He turned his head slightly toward the sound, though he still faced forward. "You can."
A pause.
She exhaled slowly.
"Imagine," she began, choosing her words with care, "that someone puts a collar around your neck. Not a visible one. Something only you can feel."
Her fingers tightened unconsciously against the grass.
"Every night, someone tugs on it. Sometimes gently. Sometimes hard enough that you can't breathe right. They watch. They demand things. If you refuse, they pull harder."
She swallowed.
"Sometimes they hurt you just to remind you they can. Not because you did anything wrong. Just because silence makes them uncomfortable."
She tilted her head back against the tree.
"You're allowed to walk during the day. Smile. Pretend. But the collar is always there. And no matter how much it hurts, you can't take it off. You can't fight back. You can't even hate them openly, because that would worsen it."
Her voice didn't shake.
"So you start thinking," she continued, "if the collar never comes off… is it wrong to want everything to stop?"
A longer pause.
"If someone like that… someone with no one waiting for them, no one who would notice if they vanished… if they chose to disappear, would that be selfish?"
She turned her head slightly, though she still couldn't see him.
"Would it be acceptable… to choose an end, even if they don't really want to die? Even if what they want is just a normal life. A quiet one."
Silence fell again.
The boy didn't answer right away.
When he did, his voice was calm. Not soft. Not harsh. Just honest.
"Yes," he said. "Dying would end the pain."
She stiffened.
"But," he continued, "that doesn't answer the real question."
He shifted, cane tapping once lightly against stone.
"You asked if it would be acceptable. I think that depends on whose wish it is."
She frowned.
"If it's your wish to die," he said slowly, "then no one has the right to tell you you're wrong. Pain can crush people. That's not weakness."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"But if what you really want… is for the pain to stop… then dying isn't the same thing."
She felt her chest tighten.
"If you're ending everything because someone else decided your life was over," he went on, "then you're letting them make the final choice too."
He leaned back more firmly against the tree.
"And I don't think someone who's been treated like an object deserves to have their last act decided by their torment."
Her breath caught, just slightly.
"I think," he said, "that struggling is ugly. And exhausting. And unfair."
A faint smile touched his lips, though she couldn't see it.
"But if you keep struggling, there's a chance. A small one. And even if you lose… you'll know that what remained of you never bowed."
He turned his face upward, toward the leaves he couldn't see.
"And when death comes someday, naturally or not… it won't come to someone who surrendered. It'll come to someone who fought with empty hands."
Silence wrapped around them again.
Love pressed her forehead lightly against the bark.
For the first time that night, her tears welled
She didn't mean to cry, but hearing his words, tears formed on their own.
And for the first time in a while, she cried. So openly and in front of someone.
Solace noticed that she was venting her feelings out. Sometimes crying your heart out is the best course of action, and he knew it, so he didn't interrupt her for the longest time and let her feelings out until the crying stopped and there was no one behind the tree.
Then he too headed to his dorm.