I gently stroked Marin’s back as she nestled in my arms, her body shaking slightly.
Though heroes must smile even in sorrow, how can a person suppress their sadness all the time?
I didn’t know the details, but it was probably bad news regarding her father.
Having been through similar experiences, I knew that meaningless consolation had no value in such situations.
All I could do for her, who was grieving, was to subtly shift my body to shield her from the glances of passersby, preventing them from seeing her cry.
After some time passed, I noticed that her trembling, which had been desperately holding back tears, began to ease.
Perhaps she had gathered herself somewhat.
When she finally lifted her head from where it had been buried in my arms, she appeared much calmer than before.
With her still-red, teary eyes, she wiped them with her sleeve and gave a shy smile as she spoke.
“…Thank you, Scarlet. I think I’m a bit more composed now. I’m sorry for showing such a shameful side of myself.”
“…There’s no need to be ashamed. It’s not a bad thing. If you’re sad, it’s natural to cry.”
Upon hearing my words, Marin looked at me intently for a moment before bursting into a small laugh.
“…Yeah, you’re right. You really are a good guy.”
Murmuring that, Marin stretched her arms, then slightly leaned back and spoke while raising her chin.
“They told me my dad is in a coma. He’s not dead, but they don’t know if he can wake up or not.”
The voice she used to speak about her father’s condition was surprisingly calm for such serious words.
Yet, from the faint tremor underlying that calm voice, I could guess how profound the sadness hidden behind it was.
In such a tone, she quietly began to share her story.
“You know, there were times in the past when I was a bit envious of other kids. Both my parents work on the frontline, so I was mostly alone at home. I envied families that spent lots of time together. Once, I even whined about it to my dad. He said that protecting others is more important than spending time with me. So he told me…”
“…”
“…that he wasn’t working just for himself but for me, Marin. He said I was the most precious thing to him.”
“…”
“So even though I envied other kids sometimes, I never wished that someone else was my dad. I love my dad. Even if he seems a bit foolish at times, I know he loves me genuinely.”
I murmured softly in response to her words.
“…What a good father.”
Marin slowly nodded in agreement.
“Yeah. He’s the proudest and coolest dad in the world.”
The light of the sky reflected in her eyes. Staring at the cold sky color like her father’s, Marin bit her lip and then sprang upright.
“Let’s get going. Since we’re heading in this direction, it looks like we’re going to help with the beast corpse disposal, right? I need to stop by the hospital, too, so we can go together.”
“…Are you sure you’re okay?”
Worried that she might be pretending to be fine despite the difficulties, I asked, and Marin nodded vigorously.
“My dad told me it’s alright to fall down a few times as long as I can get back up again. When my dad opens his eyes, I want to make sure I look proud and not disheveled, right?”
Saying that, Marin put on a strong smile.
Seeing someone rise from their sorrow was so dazzling that it unwittingly made me smile as well.
Looking at her brilliant demeanor, I silently prayed for Marin’s father.
I wished he would wake up soon and see what an amazing person his daughter is.
*
As we headed toward our assigned location, I noticed people bustling about everywhere.
People carrying syringes with containers and others struggling to load the beast’s corpses onto a giant cargo truck.
The common factor among them was that they all wore what looked like spacesuits.
Was that a means of protecting themselves from the miasma emanating from the corpses?
Having worn something similar during pest control in the military, I knew it felt like a sauna inside, just being in it.
It looked incredibly stifling, and I wondered how they could manage such heavy labor while wearing those suits.
Just as I was about to lose my breath thinking about it,
“Oh, it’s you, Scarlet! Are you feeling better now?”
A person dressed like an astronaut came up to me.
With a voice that echoed, I couldn’t determine who it was at first, but it was easy to identify this particular individual due to their noticeably smaller stature.
“…Jessie, right? I’m completely fine now, so you don’t need to worry.”
“Ehehe, is that so? Thank goodness. You seemed really in pain the last time I saw you.”
At my words, Jessie removed her helmet and smiled brightly as if relieved.
But as soon as she saw Marin next to me, the smile on Jessie’s face vanished.
“Oh, Marin… I—I heard about your father. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah…”
“…Huwah.”
With great empathy, Jessie rushed into Marin’s arms the moment she noticed Marin’s sad expression.
Having lost her family due to a witch’s scheme before, she probably felt a stronger kinship with Marin.
After sniffling for a while in Marin’s embrace, Jessie began to tremble and mumbled.
“…My brother and your father, Marin… Why do witches take away our precious ones? I can never forgive them, absolutely…”
“…Hey.”
“Still, I’m really glad.”
Jessie lifted her head.
“Thanks to Yoon Si-woo defeating the bad witch who hurt your father, right?”
Just moments ago, Jessie had been sorrowful, but now she was smiling brightly.
“She was strong, so I was worried that revenge would be difficult. But when I heard Yoon Si-woo defeated the bad witch, you can’t imagine how happy I was. She deserved punishment for her wrongdoings. I mean, Yoon Si-woo is like a hero from a story, isn’t he?”
“…Hero?”
“Yes, a hero! So I’m trying not to rush things too much. I’m sure that the hero will defeat the bad witch who killed my brother!”
Even if one experiences sorrow like Marin, there are those who rise above it.
Yet, there are also individuals consumed by immense grief.
Jessie was one of them.
That doesn’t mean it was wrong.
The pain of losing family was immense, and Jessie’s sweet and kind nature made her especially sensitive to such hurt.
Regardless, I knew.
Jessie’s eyes, once dulled from sadness and despair, now gleamed with deep-seated vengeance.
That’s why seeing her smile brightly felt all the more foreign.
And in that moment when I saw Jessie’s sparkling eyes, I felt a chill run down my spine.
The light shining in her eyes was not her radiance.
It was the reflection of light.
A reflection in the eyes of those who stared at the bright light that was Yoon Si-woo, attempting to forget the pain brought by sorrow.
I had hoped that people would rather forget their sorrow than become consumed by it, wishing for Yoon Si-woo to be their light.
Yet, there was a side effect.
Having lost my parents in the past and suffered from mild depression,
I encountered many who had experienced similar sorrow during my time online, searching for something to lean on to forget their sadness.
The types of supports varied, but there was a recurring theme of people looking to find a light in a god to lean on.
It was never a bad thing.
Clearly, the right faith can provide support during tough times and grant strength to overcome sorrow.
However, if that dependency becomes excessive, it shifts to pouring more and more into that belief.
Those who become blinded by light often forget to look back at themselves.
People who lose reason in that light no longer differentiate right from wrong, becoming zealous.
And those who go beyond that, those who become crazed not from sorrow but from that light, turn fanatical.
For those chasing the light of Yoon Si-woo, he could guide them.
As long as Yoon Si-woo walks the right path.
For those following the light of Yoon Si-woo, he can serve as a signpost.
As long as Yoon Si-woo considers right and wrong.
I believed that it was possible for him.
Because I knew the character and heart he had shown until now.
Because I understood the sacrifices and efforts he had made for this world.
Yet, there was one uncertainty: that Yoon Si-woo was never a god but a human.
Therefore, I wished for people to recognize.
That no matter how amazing Yoon Si-woo may seem, he too could misstep or make mistakes at times.
I looked at Jessie, who was smiling.
Could what she saw reflect Yoon Si-woo as an individual?
Or was it the hero of her wishes from a story?
The gazes of the fanatics jolted unsteadily.
That instability sometimes altered the image of the light they followed.
I fervently hoped that the reflection in her eyes wasn’t that of delusion, zealotry, or fanaticism.
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