The Perspective of a Villain
A faint bloom of excitement.
"You… really will?"
She almost sounded hopeful.
I nodded, settling beside her on the cave floor.
And then, she began her story.
Her voice, usually quiet and distant, grew warm as she spoke.
She gestured toward the small shadow bear nestled against her side.
"This little one here," she said, scratching under its chin, "his name is Wildy. He's my first summon."
The bear let out a low, pleased growl.
She then pointed toward a gentle-looking deer standing near the cave's entrance.
"And this is Cutie—my second summon."
The deer flicked its ears at the name, looking almost embarrassed.
"And this," she continued, as a black-feathered bird landed on her shoulder, "is Elfie. My third summon."
The bird ruffled its feathers before letting out a soft coo.
One by one, she introduced me to all of her summons.
She named each with an almost childlike enthusiasm, as if talking about her most precious treasures.
Her once emotionless face lit up with every name, every story she shared.
She was…
Like a little girl proudly showing off her toys.
And as I listened to her, something inside me began to shift.
I couldn't help but think—
Why was she considered evil?
Was she ever truly a villain?
In the game, we were the ones who attacked her first.
She only fought back because we disturbed her.
But we never learned her backstory.
We never understood her.
We just labeled her as an enemy—an obstacle to defeat.
I stared at the flickering shadows on the cave walls.
What is a villain?
Why do we hate villains?
Do we ever even try to understand them?
In someone's story, I might be a hero—
But in someone else's, I could just as easily be the villain.
If I wrote a story about myself, I would make myself the hero.
And the person I hated the most—
I would paint them as the villain.
But would that make them truly evil?
No.
I just hated them.
And because of that, they became the villain in my eyes.
Everyone wants to be a hero.
But nobody ever asks—
Why did the villain become a villain?
I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice Iris watching me.
She tilted her head, concerned.
"Oh, oh, what happened?"
Before I could react, she suddenly leaned in and placed her warm hands on my face.
My body tensed.
But her touch was… gentle.
"I am very happy today," she said, her crimson eyes shimmering.
"Because you are the first one who is actually… a bad person."
Her words startled me.
I swallowed and looked at her.
"Hey, Iris," I asked.
"Who do you think is a bad person?"
Her answer broke me.
"A bad person?" she repeated.
Her lips curled into a bitter smile.
"A bad person is someone who does bad things. Like me."
She closed her eyes.
"I've killed people."
"I've stolen from others."
"I failed to be normal."
"So I must be a bad person… right?"
I felt something twist in my chest.
"You're wrong."
I clenched my fists.
"You are not a bad person."
I took a deep breath.
"I think the real bad people are the ones who came to kill you. Like the ones before."
She shook her head.
"No," she said softly.
"They are good people."
My brows furrowed.
"How can you say that?"
Her gaze darkened.
"Everyone around here calls me a villain. A monster that kills people."
She looked at the floor, voice barely above a whisper.
"So the ones who came to kill me… they are called brave heroes."
"They know they might die… but they still fight."
"Because in their hearts, they believe they are protecting people from a villain."
A villain that doesn't even exist.
I felt like the air had been knocked from my lungs.
"Iris," I said, my voice low.
"Tell me about your past."
"Tell me how you became like this."
She blinked, surprised by my request.
But then, for the first time—
I saw something in her eyes.
A silent, unspoken pain.
And as she parted her lips to speak—
I knew.
This was the moment.
The moment my perspective of this world changed forever.