Chapter : 70
To Cross the Rules…
The rain deepened the veil of night.
At the corner of a crossroads, the streetlight’s glow dissolved into a hazy white through the curtain of rain, spreading across the wet pavement, where countless droplets continued to leap within the lamp’s reflection.
Within that light, two figures appeared.
A girl in a pale beige coat—Arisuzuki Nagisa. Behind her, following with steady steps, was Yamaki Akikaze, clad in a black hoodie.
Nagisa held a deep navy umbrella.
The raindrops pelted the fabric, producing a faint rhythm, and every time her feet pressed into puddles, ripples spread outward.
The hem of her coat was thoroughly soaked, her long hair constantly dripping—but still, she did not stop walking. She proceeded straight toward where Mion was.
“…Mion.”
Her voice was partially swallowed by the rain, yet it retained a clarity that reached the ear.
Behind her, Akikaze hurried along, holding his umbrella, brushing wet bangs off his forehead, as drops sliding off his shoulders and sleeves created a short series of “plop plop” sounds on the ground.
“I knew it… just as I thought.”
With hands in his pockets, Akikaze spoke quietly, a mix of fatigue and understanding in his tone.
The two of them stood within the halo of the rainy night, their outlines stitched with faint silver in the streetlight.
“Why… are you two here?”
Mion’s voice trembled along with her gaze at the unexpected encounter.
It was the worst timing imaginable. No matter what evasions or heart-breaking measures were taken, as if preordained, the three of them met again amidst the incident.
“You could call it intuition. Mion, you needed us—that’s what it told us.”
Nagisa tilted the umbrella toward Mion and looked straight at her through the rain curtain.
In her gaze, anxiety, hesitation, and determination intertwined—so suddenly that Mion instinctively held her breath.
“Can we… be of help?”
It was Nagisa’s offer, prompted by the hope she had just heard—“I need someone to help.”
Having overheard Mion and Phoenix’s conversation from shadow to detail, she had pulled Akikaze’s arm and stepped into their view the moment they reached a dead end.
“You… heard everything?”
Quietly, they nodded in turn, Nagisa and Akikaze.
The topic of Scarlet earlier was filled with incomprehensible terms, unknown stories, and seemingly absurd concepts—but Nagisa did not press Mion with questions.
All she saw was the simple fact that someone dear was asking for help. That was enough. No other explanations were necessary, not now.
“I’m sorry, Arisuzuki-san. Forget everything you just heard.”
At her old friend’s concern, Mion’s eyes darkened uncontrollably, voicing the kindest tone with the coldest rejection.
“That person over there is Phoenix. Both Seraphine and I like theater. Earlier, that was just rehearsing lines for a new script.”
Her gaze unconsciously wandered.
Even her excuses, ones she could not even persuade herself of, had to be said now—once Nagisa and Akikaze appeared, the distance had already become too close. Any further probing would be a sure step toward danger.
—No more. I won’t let them step in further.
Thus, she did not hesitate to make words into blades.
“So, what do you intend to do? I already said clearly before that we’re done. Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“We can’t. Especially now that we know you’re fighting something, Mion.”
“So what? It’s no longer your concern.”
“Mion’s concerns are ours. That’s the kind of relationship we have. And besides, you lied too.”
“You were the ones who believed me.”
“Does our friendship mean nothing to you?”
“Exactly. I was tired of playing ‘friends’ for so long.”
“You deceived me for ten years. Wasn’t there even a tiny bit of sincerity?”
“Not a millimeter. Give up.”
“No. Today, wherever you go, I’ll follow.”
“Enough already, both of you!”
Nagisa’s sharp questioning was broken down one by one—but the last shout was louder than expected. The crackling of her own voice through the rain startled Mion himself.
Yet he did not stop. If he allowed silence, the mask of “I’m fine” would immediately crack.
“Always interfering! Always chasing after me! Honestly, I’m sick of it! Listen—if you keep following me, tomorrow I’ll drop out and disappear from this town! Will that satisfy you?”
His throat twitched, his voice gradually hoarse—but he judged it worth it.
Seeing the frozen reaction in Nagisa and Akikaze, he realized: this was the boundary. They would not cross it. They would stay in the safe zone.
So he did not turn around. Without showing his expression, he faced away.
His fingertips trembled slightly at his sides, his toes were ice-cold, the muscles in his face were stiff as if frozen, only his jaw unconsciously clenched—one more second, and he might break.
“That’s enough. Don’t come at me anymore.”
He looked down, took a deep breath, and maintained a careless tone with all his strength.
Flicking his hand lightly, as if brushing away excess, he left without lingering, slowly moving toward Phoenix on the opposite side.
“I’ve lied for a long time… I guess I should feel bad. Let’s pretend we never met.”
The flick of his hand was so forceful that splashed water soaked one side of his coat.
The cold seeped from his skin into his heart—no, his heart had already lost warmth the moment he spoke harsh words.
He thought he would be branded a “ruthless bastard”—yet even that brought relief.
What needed protection was the magician’s rules and the safety of someone precious. If this pain had to be borne alone, now was the time.
Yet—
“Hey, Mion…”
With a soft “pat,” the umbrella slipped from Nagisa’s hand.
Only her breath trembled, chest rising and falling shallowly. Tears from her lashes ran down her cheeks, mixing with the rain.
“…The one it hurts the most… is still the one deceiving themselves, right?”
Nagisa cried.
Yet her grief was not for herself, but directed at the boy enveloped in melancholy.
“…What are you talking about?”
Mion stopped, still turned away from them, at the voice that dug into his heart.
“Do you know, Mion? Akikaze and I both tried, again and again, to get used to life without you. But no matter how many times, we couldn’t end it with a lie of being fine. It hurt, it hurt unbearably. But the one who suffered the most, probably, was you, wasn’t it?”
There was a night when they impulsively wanted to confront the truth at his house.
Yet when Mion stopped coming to school, even sending notice of the break in friendship—Nagisa realized their own obsession had cornered him and caused him to shut down. They chose silence.
And now, from their conversation just moments ago, it was confirmed—everything Mion had been carrying alone was a burden so great it drove him to distance the people most important to him, even at the cost of his own personality.
Nagisa could empathize; truth is bitter, and well-intentioned concealment only suffocates.
“Mion, you’ve been lonely all this time, haven’t you?”
“W-why would you think that…?”
“I saw you looking our way sometimes in class. Even during the sports festival, you came to support our volleyball.”
“How do you know… Are you playing detective?”
“You don’t need to be a detective to see. When someone is truly important, it can be understood without words. So our conclusion is clear: everything you’ve done was to protect us, right?”
“St-stupid… That’s impossible…”
To keep his resolve, Mion shook his head violently, pinching his thighs to stay conscious through pain.
“Stop it already. Everything you say is just speculation without proof. The fact is, I don’t need you, and you don’t need me. You’d better accept that. Arisuzuki Nagisa, go home.”
As he stepped forward, he heard “tatata”—quick footsteps behind him.
The instant he turned, Akikaze’s fist struck his cheek, and Mion collapsed onto the wet ground.
“Damn it, Mion! I’ve never been this mad at you! How long are you going to keep acting!”
Rain pelted Akikaze’s hair, and in his eyes, the weight heavier than anger was disappointment.
“I’m fine, but Nagisa-chan is so worried, and that’s what you say?! You think carrying everything alone is cool?!”
Grabbing Mion by the collar, he pulled him close.
“If you want to protect us, don’t hurt us first! Did you ever think about our feelings when acting unilaterally?!”
“I had no choice! Given my position, I couldn’t tell anyone, and I had no option but to bear it alone!”
“But you didn’t have to!”
The yellow streetlight was fractured by the rain, scattering fine particles between the three of them.
Akikaze hesitated for a moment, then exhaled deeply, mixing the remnants of anger with calm as he continued.
“You don’t have to carry everything alone. No matter what happens, no matter the danger, no matter the misunderstandings, Nagisa-chan and I will stay with you till the end.”
Mion remained bowed, silent, his ragged breaths shaking his chest, hands clutching the hem of his jacket.
“Yes. This is how we feel, and this is our resolve.”
Stepping quietly, avoiding splashing puddles, Nagisa approached, kneeled, and looked up at Mion with gentle eyes.
“Let’s move forward as the three of us, Mion. Don’t push us away anymore.”
A direct, heavy blow to his heart.
Their words, coming from the two who had never left his side, were almost the last straw. Mion bit his lower lip, teeth pressing into soft skin, the faint taste of blood spreading in his mouth.
It was a struggle for restraint.
“Please… hit me, Phoenix-san…”
In a small voice, he sent a signal for salvation to the red-haired man who had witnessed everything.
“If I don’t… I feel like I’ll break the rules…”
Now, the word “no” was the hardest to say.
The next moment, guilt, loneliness, sorrow, and all accumulated emotions might explode, tearing the threads of reason.
He had reached his limit.
“Then break it. Boy.”
After a brief silence, the words that reached his ear were uncharacteristic of a magician, yet there was no pain.
Opening his eyes wide to look at Phoenix, the large man—supposed to stop him—had a face full of sincerity and sympathy.
“We’re human too. If we suppress emotions and only follow rules, that might be society. But if we become that, we are empty shells. Is that really what we want? No one can do that, and no one should. So here, as your allies and friends, I ask you: tell them everything.”
Phoenix’s voice was calm, steady, and carried an undeniable warmth.
What had been suppressed overflowed, Mion’s shoulders shook violently.
Tears welled at the edge of his eyes, blurring his vision. But this time he did not hide them, letting them flow freely in torrents.
“…I’m sorry…”
The sound cracked, tearing from deep within, and in that instant, all masks and pretenses shattered into dust.
Almost instinctively, Mion reached out, embracing Nagisa and Akikaze together.
He had once pushed them away to protect them from a world on the verge of breaking—but now, the only ones who could hold that crumbling world were none other than themselves.
“I’m… sorry… truly, I’m sorry…”
The emotions he wanted to convey were countless, but sobs obstructed words. Only endless apologies repeated.
He buried his face in Nagisa’s shoulder, hot tears soaking her clothes, while Akikaze hesitated for a few seconds before placing his hand on Mion’s back and patting gently.
“I… never wanted to hurt you… I was just scared of losing you… that’s all…”
His voice trailed off.
No words passed among the three, only the warmth of their shared breath in the rain, fragile yet certain, reaching from the edge of despair.
Mion could no longer speak—he only held them tightly.
It was not a plea for forgiveness, but a resting place chosen by a heart finally freed from the deception of “I’m fine,” a heart bearing nothing.
