Thoma, who had returned to the abbey, sat at the table in his room and covered his mouth.
"U… uwaaaaak!"
He muffled his scream with all his might and yelled into his clenched fist. The pain had grown worse; it was growing worse with each passing day.
He pulled out his bag of medicine, and took some. The pain began to subside almost instantaneously, but as it disappeared, his mind grew murky.
'Comfortable…'
He surrendered himself to this strange—yet comforting—sensation, but…
"…Are you in pain?"
A phantom had suddenly appeared, and it was speaking to him. A headless body clad in armor stood tall, right over him. The head of the Demon Lord lay on the floor beside its feet, staring at him wide-eyed. His mouth was moving abnormally fast as he spoke.
"Are you in pain? Suffering? How does it feel like to be cursed? Isn't it painful? Hm? Painful, isn't it? Hahahaha! Die, die, die, die!"
Thoma stared at the specter in silence, before finally speaking. "… You are an illusion."
"An illusion?" the head asked mockingly. "Did you say that I am an illusion? Is that what you think? Hahaha!"
This illness was definitely a naturally occurring disease. It wasn't something like a curse, but there were times when he considered whether it truly was the work of the Demon Lord, trying relentlessly to make him suffer out of revenge. Those times of uncertainty were signs of his regret. It was the self-hatred that came from the whisperings of doubt in his mind; the thought that he might have killed an innocent demon. This doubt had never truly surfaced in his conscious mind, instead it had been an unknown burden on his heart for decades. However, now that his body was breaking down, so was his mind. Those repressed thoughts were freed from their previous shackles, and were slowly floating up out of the subconscious.
"Kihihihihihi! An illusion? I am a lie? It doesn't matter! I am merely here to curse you! I only exist to make you suffer! Die! Die! Die!"
The Demon Lord's voice began to change in strange ways as its head split, the pieces rolling in different directions across the floor. Thoma covered his ears as its terrible voice could be heard all around him, from every direction. He hoped to shut the voice out, but the hallucinations continued unperturbed.
"…You're loud." Thoma complained.
His fingers began digging into his ears. Deeper and deeper, in the hope of eventually blocking the cacophony of voices assaulting him.
"Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die! Eh…? You died?"
The scenery changed with those last words from the Demon Lord. Thoma looked around in surprise. It felt like he was in a coffin, and the lid was slowly being closed. He could hear the voices of the children spilling in from above.
This was 'death'. He was at death's door.
'I… will die?'
Thoma opened his mouth to shout. He reached out to push the lid open, but black hands spilled out from within the coffin, covering his mouth and wrapping around his arms. His voice wouldn't come out, and as the lid slowly drew to a close, he could no longer see any light. Thoma's trembling eyes fell into despair as tried to shout with all his might; it felt like his lungs were going to explode. He had heard something right before the lid closed… it had been Ellie's voice.
"Brother monk!"
Thoma's eyes shot open as he was shaken awake.
"Aaaahhhhhh!"
It was then that Thoma realized he had been screaming, and closed his mouth. Ellie was clinging onto his arms. Thoma pulled his fingers out of his ears and looked at them in shock. They had pierced his eardrums and were now slick with blood.
He couldn't hear very well now, and what he could hear sounded distorted. On top of that, his throat felt like it had been ripped open. Having calmed down to an extent—though his breathing was still ragged—Thoma looked to his side.
"Sister… Ellie? Your health…? Are you okay?"
Everything he said sounded slurred and was spoken slowly, as if he was having trouble putting together the words.
"Is this the time to be checking up on me? What's going on with you, Thoma! Why are you acting this way? Why are you screaming? Why did you hurt your ears? Just tell me why you're acting this way? Please?! Tell me! Are you sick? Are you feeling unwell?"
Thoma couldn't respond to Ellie's tear-filled words, and was unable to decide what to do. Ellie was overcome with fear and shock, and still, her eyes were full of concern. Her frail body trembled as she gripped onto his shoulder.
"J-just why are you doing these things? Your ears… what happened to them? Hm? Can you hear me? Brother!"
"…No, Sister Ellie. I-I… am fine."
'I've been caught! Sister Ellie ended up seeing me in this state!'
"Lies! You're lying!" she cried out. "Are you sick?"
"No, it's… a nightmare! That's right. It was just a nightmare!"
Thoma tried to quickly change the topic as he always did, but Ellie only grew more confused after having seen the true state of his health.
"B-but…" she mumbled, unsure of what to say.
Thoma looked at Ellie and forced himself to remain silent. He was currently filled with fear. He was overwhelmed by the terror that came from seeing his death, and couldn't decide what the right course of action was. He was struggling with all his might to continue holding onto his last thread of sanctity. He had to. If he loosened his grip even a little…
'… I might scream out in terror.'
He might end up relying on the woman standing before him. He might end up telling her the truth out of fear, rather than the lies she needed to hear. He might end up confessing all of his many worries, the ones that he had been accumulating and protecting her from. If he stayed here any longer he would surely crack, so he decided to avoid Ellie and retreat. However, his legs became tangled as he tried to stand, and he ended up falling back down.
"Brother!"
Ellie rushed over to him in surprise.
"Just why are you acting this way? Really… why? What is wrong?"
"No, nothing… it's nothing…"
There were suddenly tears flowing out from Thoma's eyes. Seeing something so unexpected, Ellie froze. Finally, as though she had come to some decision, she nodded and held out her hand.
Thoma was scared of that hand. It was a gentle and warm hand. Thoma was scared of the hand offered by someone with such a delicate heart, and tried to push himself away. However, Ellie softly brushed her hands against his cheeks before bringing her face closer to his. He felt an incomparably soft sensation on his lips. A warm breath entered his mouth and froze his thoughts.
Ellie pulled her head back with a smile. She was laughing and smiling innocently as her eyes filled with tears.
"Thoma. Ellie is on your side, so do not be scared of me."
At that moment, Thoma's guard collapsed. The facade of strength that he had been building and reinforcing around his heart cracked and crumbled away in an instant. Thoma covered his face with his hands before bursting into tears.
"Ellie… I want to live! What should I do? Am I just going to die like this? Am I going to die…?! I wasn't scared of dying… or so I thought…!"
It was terrifying. Death!
He felt more terrified than anything else at the thought of leaving behind the precious things around him. Ellie softly embraced Thoma's crying face and whispered.
"It's okay. It's fine. Brother, I am by your side, so don't worry. Wasn't it scary? Wasn't it terrifying? Cry all you want. Lean on me."
Thoma felt comforted by her whispers. His body was in pain, but his pain and even his fear began to subside. The comforting warmth of her body began to untangle his heart. He let himself, for the first time, cry to his heart's content.
— Ω —