I barely assumed control of our body during the last seven days.
On the first day, it was to respect Shizuo's pain. The security around our room was redoubled, and that scoundrel Fergus didn't try anything else.
He left for Dober — without Sage Nathaniel — the next morning. It was a relief, even if temporary, as I knew that soon we would have to see his disgusting mug again.
In a few weeks, the visit to the capital and the royal palace would take place for Lucian's investiture as Duke of Northwater and for the celebration of our wedding.
On the second day, I was forced to take over, as Shizuo refused to eat or get out of bed. Thus, I became responsible for dressing and feeding us.
Even so, I assumed control without saying anything and withdrew again.
In her state, it was extremely important that she had maximum autonomy... At least my hope was that this would help her healing process.
It was on the third day that she took action. Silent, and still apathetic, but better than nothing, she got up and went to our wardrobe.
She opened the piece of furniture slowly and looked at the pieces meticulously separated inside. Her eyes landed on a cream dress. She took it, and then took a pink ribbon I had asked Evelyn for earlier.
After dressing, she went to the dining room and sat down to eat in silence beside Evelyn, Nathaniel — present by protocol — and Lucian. Everyone looked surprised, but no one was tactless enough to attempt lively conversation.
Even Evelyn showed good sense and empathy and limited herself to speaking only what was necessary.
The improvement Shizuo demonstrated made me feel a little more relieved. Especially after spending the last few days feeling like the shittiest person in the universe.
After finishing, Shizuo asked to be excused with a low, neutral voice and withdrew. She wandered through the rooms, not noticing, or at least not caring about the watchful steps of Lucian, who had gotten up to follow her.
The garden was beautiful, with the sun breaking through the clouds and reflecting off the dew drops. But she didn't want to stop. She headed to an annex in the southern part of the estate. There was a private training room of Lucian's there.
Shizuo stopped in front of the door, reaching out to touch the cold wood.
Why did you make me like this?
I swallowed hard in our mind. I didn't expect her to address me so soon. I decided to be frank.
Weak? Well I did it because...
Because it was more interesting that way. — Shizuo ventured.
Yes. I'm sorry...
No.
I felt like I had been punched in the stomach by the dry tone of her statement.
The three of us stood there for a while longer, until she opened the door and entered, Lucian following behind us, still silent.
She stopped in front of the weapon rack and picked up a worn training saber.
I don't forgive you, Hana, because either you knew I would create life and made me to suffer anyway, which is unforgivable… Or you simply created art with no ill intent, which requires no forgiveness.
I didn't know how to respond until she continued.
I still need time to process.
Right. Take as much time as you need, then.
"Teach me." — Shizuo spoke, turning to Lucian.
He looked at us, reflected, and finally nodded.
The next day, Lucian ordered a set of practical clothes for exercise. Comfortable thick fabric pants, and a beige cotton shirt.
....
From there followed four days of a robotic and exhausting routine. We woke up early, dressed in training clothes, tied our hair with the pink ribbon, and headed to the training room.
Initially, Lucian didn't let us touch any weapons.
He first made us perform a series of stretches, many similar to the ones I knew from physical education classes in my childhood on Earth.
Then, running.
Lots of running.
Shizuo ran until our legs burned.
Then, she ran more.
She fell a few times when our knees gave out, but whenever she rested a bit, she got up and continued.
Lucian watched us, and only occasionally corrected our posture, our stride, or our breathing. Often, all three at the same time.
And today, finally, we would start training with swords.
"Were you instructed in the basics?" — Lucian asked, observing the way Shizuo handled the weapon.
"Not like Livia." — She replied. — "But that doesn't matter, I was made to know how to use a sword."
She spoke in the melancholic tone that had become her default. Lucian didn't reply, just stared at us with those red eyes. There was something in them that reminded me of Ryuuji. The way he looked at me when I was being particularly stubborn.
"Right."
Without waiting, he advanced. Weapon thrusting firmly toward our torso without hesitation.
Shizuo responded quickly, and I believe both of us were surprised when Livia's previously lethargic body exploded into motion, deflecting the attack to the side with an elegant movement.
"You should warn me first!" — Shizuo complained.
"Why?"
Lucian didn't wait for an answer and continued with a series of ceaseless attacks.
Shizuo engaged in combat. She danced through the training arena with the grace of a ballerina and the ferocity of a cornered animal.
"Good." — Said Lucian. — "Now that you stopped feeling sorry for yourself for a second, maybe some progress is possible."
I felt our eyes go wide. He wasn't particularly loving, but he had never been openly rude to us before.
He kept attacking.
Low lateral cut after a feint.
"Almost useful. Keep it up."
"Why are you being such a jerk?"
"Does that irritate you?" — He asked, deflecting with banal ease a particularly fast thrust from Shizuo.
"Of course it irritates me!"
She advanced, sword aiming for his shoulder.
He didn't dodge. Instead, he let the thin blade make a fine cut on his shoulder and retaliated with a quick circular movement that left a wound of the same size on our sword hand.
Shizuo dropped the weapon when the stinging registered in our brain.
Lucian took her hand, and brought it close to the wound on his shoulder.
"What is this?"
He asked, looking deep into our eyes.
"Blood..."
"Yes. Red. Probably tastes like iron. Just like mine."
"What's your deal, Lucian? Was this supposed to be some kind of moral lesson?"
"No. I don't think you need one, but rather a reminder."
"Of what?" — She asked, barely containing her irritation.
"That we both bleed, we both can die. I don't know if you've been walking around sad because you were created by someone, but you NEED to recover."
Shizuo didn't retreat, but didn't answer, eyes fixed on him.
"I want to live, Shizuo. I want you to live. For Evelyn and Abigail to live."
"I want that too!"
"Then get a grip!"
It was the first time I heard Lucian speak like someone from Earth. I felt a totally inexplicable joy, inappropriate for the moment.
"Forgive me." — He said after a pause.
He turned away, running his hand through his hair to comb it back again.
"I crossed the line. I shouldn't have... done anything I did. I was rude and ended up hurting you."
"I literally stabbed you on purpose and I am NOT sorry. You really were an asshole."
Shizuo then approached and healed both wounds in the blink of an eye.
"I was born in a rural village. No name. Moved to Tokyo while still a teenager, studied there, graduated, got a job as an accountant where I worked myself to death."
Lucian remained silent, listening.
"I don't remember if I ever fell in love. If I ever hated anyone besides my boss. I don't know if anyone ever fell in love with me or hated me."
I felt the tears flowing while our mouth moved, pouring out Shizuo's dammed-up words and pain.
"I don't remember my parents' faces, or if I have siblings. I don't remember the name of my school, nor how many boys I rejected, if I rejected any, or was rejected. I don't remember what my class did for the school festival."
My throat was dry and I could no longer see properly with the tears gathering in front of our eye.
"I don't remember if I had a best friend at work, or what was the last project before I collapsed and died from overwork."
She advanced, and started hitting Lucian's chest.
"I know I am real, but that changes nothing, I am still incomplete, I still feel the void of the things I didn't live!"
The space between us diminished and I felt his arms wrap around me in a hug.
Shizuo cried and I could only watch in horror the suffering I inadvertently caused. In real-time and in first person.
I had no way of knowing. No sane person would ever imagine that their work of art would under any hypothesis gain life. It was a terrible weight that corrupted me.
I knew I had no right to feel as bad as Shizuo. I knew it was wrong to compare my pain with hers and yet I did it. And I hated myself for it.
Lucian didn't know, but there he was consoling two broken souls.
There, I felt the pain of Shizuo whom I created incomplete, of Livia whom I made to be a mere vessel without a personality of her own, mine for imposing an existential nightmare on someone.
But above all, present, preventing everything from falling apart completely, was a familiar warmth, of a hug I had felt before.
A hug I never thought I would feel again.
None of us knew why, but soon the crying stopped, exhaustion took over and only the warmth of that embrace remained.