ALL NOVEL Chapter 38
Chapter 38: Shall We Wash Together?
Bershia had been enjoying cheerful days recently.
This was the most unusual occurrence in her life.
To be frank, looking back at her life thus far, she had always been quite distant from merriment.
To be precise, the concept of joy had unilaterally passed her by.
It had always been this way.
A cycle of lengthy gloom followed by brief moments of respite.
It felt akin to floundering in water.
If she had to metaphorically compare it, the mechanism resembled a whale she had once seen in a book long ago.
Of course, the difference between the two was clear.
For a whale, diving and surfacing were not painful traits, while for Bershia, they were burdens that caused her greater suffering.
Thus, there was a time when she surprisingly thought she envied whales.
She wondered if becoming a whale might free her from the pain of such burdens.
The terrible melancholy was merely a form of affinity and yearning twisted in vain.
The key point was that there had been a time when she felt so crushed. Moreover, returning to the main topic, the essence of the story was that Bershia had been gradually distancing herself from such melancholy recently.
The cause was clear.
Behind that pillar, standing behind the priestesses with a flushed face, was a girl staring at her intently, deep in stern thought.
…Or rather, should it be defined as a young man since that was what was inside?
“You’ve come to greet me.”
At Saturn’s words, Bershia nodded.
It felt as if something blocking her throat had vanished.
“Yes, training is over, so I’ll take my leave now.”
“Hmm, good luck then.”
Saturn briefly looked around and became a bit glum.
Her sharp hearing caught his mutter of, “Haven’t we gotten closer…?” but she chose to let it slide.
What that bald-headed man was thinking didn’t matter to Bershia.
What was important to her was one thing.
Asher was over there. And he needed her.
That alone was the singular answer to her delight.
Bershia stepped lightly to stand before Asher.
“There was no need for you to come.”
“…I came to greet you, cause I had time to spare.”
His shy, stammering reply while avoiding her gaze was rather adorable.
She wanted to pinch his blushing earlobes for no reason.
He was so transparent that she could discover the reason for his actions with little hint.
Bershia understood that on training days, the priestesses hid behind pillars, engaging in frivolous fantasies.
She also knew that this would wound Asher’s pride in matters of masculinity.
His usual response would be to sulk. Yet today was different.
Let’s attach a new hint.
Outwardly, she was a knight who had fallen into a coma after throwing herself to protect the saintess.
Among the gossip that such rumors conjured, there might have been voices interpreting it as a romantic connection between him and her.
Verification was easy.
“Your face is quite red.”
“Y-Yes? Eek!”
It was the moment she placed her hand on his forehead.
A distant sound of suppressed screams, “Eek! Gah!” reached her ears.
Asher had clearly understood what was said.
It was a delightful situation.
Bershia hoped Asher’s kindness was especially for her.
She acknowledged that aspect herself, implying a greater possibility than before.
The sight of him frozen and covered in embarrassment reminded her of freshly fallen snow piled high overnight.
It felt like stepping onto pristine ground where no one had tread, and she instinctively wanted to leave her footprints there.
Was this thirst abnormal?
She pondered for a moment but shook her head.
Bershia knew she loved Asher.
It was something beyond mere affection as man and woman.
It was a pure yearning towards him as a human, as an individual.
No matter how she thought about it, this was just one of the general forms of that yearning.
“W-Well, let’s go. It would be rude to just stand here…”
Asher fanned himself.
It seemed difficult for him to erase the ideas flitting across his mind.
Seeing him in distress ignited her mischief.
Bershia smiled brightly and said.
“Shouldn’t you let me wash up since I’m all sweaty and sticky?”
“Ah, well then, please….”
“Shall we wash together?”
“…!”
No one could better suit the expression of being startled to the point of fur standing on end than him.
His shocked gaze soon turned to embarrassment, which then transformed into a cute pout.
Bershia smirked and replied.
“Just kidding! I’ll go now.”
As with every day recently, it was a pleasant start.
* * *
Unlike Asher, Bershia had little resistance to her new body.
In some ways, she even felt a greater comfort in this flesh.
The stamina that didn’t easily tire and the vitality felt throughout her body dispelled any needless lethargy.
Asher’s saying that a healthy body encased a healthy mind was quite rational.
Of course, the largest reason was that she didn’t have to be Bershia de Astalion anymore, but at this point, that was meaningless too.
It had only mattered that Asher was by her side, regardless of what she was called.
She could draw positivity from that.
She could shake off loneliness.
Even if the whole world became her enemy, she had a strange certainty that he wouldn’t become her enemy as well.
Of course, possessing such certainty didn’t bring her this degree of stability by itself.
Bershia acknowledged that fact to a certain extent.
More precisely, she realized it the moment he had awakened from his coma and said, “Let’s do our best in our own places now.”
“I don’t like such uncertainties.”
Whether it was divine planning or deception.
She was curious about the reason, but it was clear to Bershia that this was the most ideal state for her.
Asher’s reflection appeared beyond the mirror.
The body defining him was in her grasp.
He wasn’t ‘handsome’ so much as he was ‘lovely’. With an androgynous beauty, he looked delicate but was firmly built.
While he was in her possession, Asher could never drift away.
He would constantly gaze at this body and fret, and in that process, would see her residing within himself.
The only additional benefit was that she could rein him in, perhaps?
In this state, if Asher were to use some excuse to lock him up in a greenhouse, he would begrudgingly agree.
It was possible to capture his gaze.
She could become especially significant to him.
Once she gained one thing, she would hope for two.
No, ten.
Bershia finally realized she was that kind of person.
Her gaze sank.
She noticed the reflection of a distorted smile lurking in the mirror.
Perhaps it was something different.
Just like how Asher wore a face she couldn’t create herself, Bershia was also wearing a facial expression that Asher would not have worn.
Bershia covered her mouth.
Thud, thud.
Her heart beat heavily.
Amidst the joys, sticky emotions began to rise.
She closed her eyes.
“That won’t do. I can’t show this expression.”
The persona he knew was just right as it was now.
He would be in unbearable pain if he were hurt, and while mischievous and crafty, he would not abandon the greater good.
As long as she stayed within those bounds, Asher would remain the same as before.
He would convey to her the emotions she desired.
“I’m not deceiving him.”
In truth, that appearance was also a truthful part of herself.
It was simply that there was no need to show everything, and thus she didn’t.
Thud— thud—
Her heart grew heavier and slower.
The roof of her mouth felt slightly dry.
She moistened it with her tongue.
She calmed herself.
Bershia repeatedly reminded herself.
What she wanted was slow and sure.
“Like a tide coming in.”
Just as she had been, so too must Asher become.
After composing her expression entirely, she changed into new clothes.
Then, she exited the tent and headed toward Asher.
A little while later, she found him at the tea table in the garden, looking up at the sky after clearing his throat.
Then he suddenly broke into a smile, as if he had found an excuse to shake off his embarrassment.
She wished he would struggle a bit more.
If he did, then what was in his head all this time would be her.
Clearing her thoughts, she said.
“I’m here!”
“Oh, you’ve come!”
“You seem to be in a good mood?”
“Eh?”
“Did something good happen? If so, I’d feel a bit left out.”
“N-No! I just thought how clear the sky was…!”
His flustered excuses were amusing.
She was entertained by the fact that he even genuinely worried about such a joke.
Bershia deliberately pulled a chair over beside him and rested her chin on her hands.
Then she began asking about what had happened while she was away.
“How was the tea party?”
If she tossed out a suitable topic, Asher would chatter excitedly.
Bershia enjoyed those moments.
The results of the meeting were beyond her concern.
Well, only up to that point.
“I’m glad you brought that up! The situation is quite dire. A first-class knight has already been defeated… and it seems we don’t know how many more Artificial Witches may appear, which means the timing for the next dispatch will likely be pushed back!”
Bershia’s brow furrowed.
Asher, interpreting her look as seriousness, brightened his eyes and said.
“Last time, there was an accident due to insufficient information, but we need to think about the next steps! So I’ve devised a plan. It concerns combat…”
Yes, the issue of the heretics was still unresolved.
In that moment of confronting such facts, something dark and muddled began to swell up within her.
The despair she had felt not long ago surged back through her throat.
“I apologize for making such a request, but… could you teach me the escort tactics applied with prayer? If the saintess could lend her effort even a little, in case of an emergency…”
A bell rang in her mind.
She unconsciously thought she had to cage her feelings, even if it meant inflicting wounds on her heart.
She had come to believe there was nothing better than that method.
‘Why?’
Upon rising questions, she instinctively provided answers.
“Because I like you.”
Because she wanted to be together.
She wanted to concentrate on each other and didn’t want that to be interrupted.
Only then did her heart feel at ease.
The reason of love truly provided a magical consistency.
Though there was a nagging feeling of something being amiss, she ignored it.
Not everything can fit perfectly.
It was enough to concentrate on what could clasp together.
Bershia urged herself like that.
This was not only for herself but also an act of caring for Asher together.
It was a way for her to protect him more fully.
Bershia parted her lips.
“But…”
“Oh, yes!”
Bershia locked eyes with Asher.
She smiled brightly at him.
Though her eyes could not share in the mirth.
“I think it’s wrong to start by imagining battle.”
There was no need to choose an unnecessarily difficult answer.
“Knight, to be honest, you’re pretty useless right now. Even if we prepare, what if you step out and another incident like last time occurs?”
It only required a little bit to tear him down.
Then Asher’s body stiffened.
The smile that had risen slowly faded.
The trembling gaze showed that he was acknowledging his helplessness.
“…That’s true.”
He laughed awkwardly.
He opened his lips as if to speak, then closed them.
She could see him clenching his fist tightly.
It was as intended.
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It felt satisfying.
However, something felt strange.
A deep discomfort stirred within her.
* * *
Asher felt as if cold water was splashed over his head.
What Bershia pointed out accurately signaled to him his own position.
Yet, the emotions evoked weren’t irritation or similar feelings.
Rather, the feelings that surfaced were somewhat oddly aligned with the emotions Bershia had desired.
It was guilt.
The moment he spoke of the next dispatch, he became still.
Smiling, yet his eyes were not smiling.
It was as though he directed sharp words towards her.
Asher felt guilt toward her appearance.
He realized that her care for him brought her fears.
So what should he do about that?
He pondered the answer and reached a decision.
Just after arriving at that determination, he opened his mouth.
Bershia had overlooked a certain fact.
“Saintess.”
Asher Trevion was a Good Human.
Someone who could throw himself aside for others, risking himself for their sake.
Someone who could tear off his flesh to spare another.
But,
“Though I have become this powerless, I can still do something.”
He was not a human who would crumble from that.
“You mustn’t run away. You mustn’t hide. That solves nothing.”
He was someone who would press onward, even if he had to crawl after going to his knees.
“Your point about my powerlessness was a good one. So, if you would allow me to, I’d like to make a humble request.”
He already had his own answer, and that answer was firm enough to withstand this level of adversity.
“I won’t go to the truly dangerous places. Instead, please help us think of the best we can do together.”
Asher did not shrink or falter in the face of guilt.
He did not suffer from it or allow it to wither him.
Instead, he chose to embrace the wounds he had opened up, providing solace for himself.
Asher extended his hand to grasp Bershia’s.
He looked straight into her eyes and smiled brightly.
“May I ask a favor?”
That diverged from Bershia’s thoughts.
Her understanding of responsibility was lacking compared to Asher’s.