Whoever Now Walks toward Me

Eve

I lay there for a while before the pain in my head subsided. This was a garage. I walked toward the door. It wasn’t locked. I heard singing. It was a beautiful voice, possibly operatic, but I wasn’t sure. There were lyrics, but I couldn’t understand them. I walked out.

It was a large living room with a sofa, a carpet, and a TV. There was a glass wall, and outside was a courtyard covered in grass, bathed in brilliant sunlight. But this place was underground. Was it simulated sunlight? There were no trees outside, but if I listened closely, I could hear the rustling of leaves. White noise.

The singing stopped. I turned my head.

“Tea~” She was holding a teapot and smiling at me.

She had an exceptionally beautiful face, with a childlike innocence and a kind warmth in her smile that every good guide seems to have. But what struck me as eerie was that her hair was exactly the same color as mine—very pale blonde, and straight. As she approached, I noticed that it wasn’t just her hair; her eyes were the same color as mine too, a light blue. Her skin tone was also similar to mine, except her cheeks were flawlessly white, while I had some freckles. If our facial features weren’t completely different, I might have thought we were related.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m—”

“I know~!” She interrupted me, saying cheerfully, “You’re—Eve, too! What a—coincidence~”

Eve too?

She sat down on the sofa and poured tea into a cup on the coffee table.

“All of—Phoebus’s—guides— are named—Eve. And you—happen to—be named—” She started giggling. Then she suddenly looked up at me with a strange expression.

“Have a seat?” She patted the spot beside her.

She made me uncomfortable. But I couldn’t pinpoint why. So, I sat down.

“Are you his guide?” I asked.

She didn’t answer but instead placed her hand on my knee. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but I didn’t like it—

Ah, talking is so tiring.

...What’s happening? I stared at her blankly.

I still prefer it this way. And you? Oh—I forgot you’re a disabled D-rank, incapable of this kind of communication.

I jerked back, but she grabbed my wrist.

Idiot, where do you think you’re going?

She blinked, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.

Yes, I’m his guide. I’m the guide with the highest compatibility with him, 99%. He likes it best when I do the guidance. I should have bonded with him years ago. But then he met you. He refuses to bond with anyone else but you. He even forced me to bond with someone else. Because he wants 100%, he thinks that will make him stronger—but look at you, just a pathetic little i***t. What a disappointment. Can you really bond with him? Can someone with your weak mental power handle him? He’s—very—big—

“Let me go—” I said.

Go die. I just heard it—you’re in pain, you’re miserable, you want to die. You should hurry up and die—before you bond with him, hurry up and die—retard, i***t, D-rank, you can’t make him stronger, you’ll only drag him down. b***h, hurry up and die. You’ve been tormented over your mother’s death, haven’t you? Let me tell you, if it weren’t for you, your mother wouldn’t have died. She changed her appearance; he never would’ve recognized her if it weren’t for you—The best thing you can do for her is hurry up and die, go and be with her, apologize to her—Die, die, die, die—

“Eve, release her.”

She released me, and I, caught off guard, fell backward, gasping, still shaken.

“Wow, Phoebus, you— recover— so fast~!” She turned her head toward the direction behind the sofa and said happily, “Why so— upset? I was— just— teaching your— wife— how to— speak— more easily.”

“You can leave now,” he said.

She was upset. I “saw” that. And she made no effort to hide it. She wanted him to know she was upset. But without any hesitation, she stood up because a guide must obey her sentinel.

“You— need— me,” she said to him. Then she left.

*