One Day, My Dad Showed Up

“Claire.”

I made eye contact with Dad. His calm, deep purple eyes were filled with concern.

“But that was before you left. You’re still only nine years old.”

Dad’s words were firm.

Just as his arms held me securely, his words were steadfast with conviction.

“I don’t want you to accumulate losses at an age when you haven’t experienced all the good things in life yet.”

“But…”

But, even so, nevertheless…

Countless denials surged in my mouth and eyes. I knew it was a natural thing for parents to say to their young children.

Dad, who was quietly watching me, let out a regretful sigh.

A very soft and gentle breath. It brushed my forehead and cheeks and then scattered away in vain.

Dad then whispered softly.

“In September, there’s a harvest festival at the temple. Astariol usually attends the event, and this year, you must go. Because you need to receive your baptismal name there.”

I looked up, not understanding for a moment. What did that mean?

Dad’s gaze was affectionate and tender, yet slightly somber. It was a face that already feared the pain I would experience, just because he loved me.

Like the moon watching a star about to fall.

“Since May, when we met Charlotte, we’ve been tracking her. By September, we’ll roughly know where the survivors are.”

Ah.

“Let’s go to the temple during the harvest festival. If we find someone alive, meet them then.”

As I understood, my eyes slowly widened.

Dad spoke in a low and clear voice.

“I want to postpone your loss until after your joy.”

Some might say that joy after pain was much sweeter.

Perhaps it would be better to grieve enough beforehand and then meet the living person.

However, Dad chose to alleviate my suffering by letting the joy of meeting someone alive come first.

I didn’t know if this was wise.

I couldn’t tell if it was the right thing to do either.

But whatever the decision… this choice was made purely out of love for me.

That much was clear.

Knowing that made it difficult to hastily express my gratitude.

Even though I was tightly embraced, the silence swelled like a vast emptiness between the stars and the moon.

Dad put me down only when we reached my room. As usual, a light and everyday farewell followed.

“Goodnight, Claire.”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

I returned the greeting, hesitated for a moment, and then eventually spoke.

“Thank you.”

Dad’s elegant and slender hand suddenly caressed my cheek.

That gentle touch was more affectionate than a thousand words and more solid than a hundred promises.

“It’s strange. You are the brightest and happiest thing in my life, yet… I never imagined you could make me this afraid.”

That sounded like a casual joke at first glance.

But anyone seeing Dad’s face right now would never dare call it a joke.

Anyone who could see the love and just as much worry entangled on Astariol’s indifferent and impassive face.

I couldn’t say anything for a while and just looked at that face.

‘… Dad is worried about me.’

Great love sometimes came with fear. I knew that too.

It was scary to love someone so much, to be swayed by their every small gesture or action.

Above all, it was frightening to think that the person you love might get hurt.

‘But…’

Wasn’t it usually joy that came with love, not fear?

Joy that overwhelmed fear.

Joy gave courage, brought happiness, and made you see the world in a completely different light.

At least, that was what Dad was to me.

Because he enveloped me with boundless affection.

I hurriedly grabbed Dad’s hand as it left my cheek. I knew saying it would be clearer, but still.

I held on for a moment.

Dad also let his hand be held quietly. Then he slightly bent his knees to lower his posture and looked into my eyes.

A moon watching over a young star. A sea waiting for a flowing stream. A night receding after a pouring dawn.

What could compare to that gaze? Deep and serene.

“Charlotte wouldn’t have let you jump from there.”

“I know.”

“Eciel might have preferred to know the sorrow first.”

“I know that too.”

He let out a shallow sigh and pulled me into a hug.

“Just as you know, I know too. You can jump off the balcony and endure the loss.”

“…”

“Just thinking that you might cry again makes it unbearable for me.”

“… it’s okay. I know too.”

Dad whispered without a hint of a smile.

“If you wanted, I would give you everything in this world.”

Everything in this world. Such a nice phrase. But I shook my head.

“I don’t want that.”

Even if I didn’t clearly know what I liked, I could distinguish between what I wanted and what I didn’t want.

I didn’t want everything in this world.

Dad nodded at my firm response. He then slightly pulled back and looked into my face.

“I know. You want to see, hear, and touch this world yourself. So, you can understand other people’s hearts.”

Dad’s eyes elegantly shadowed.

“… and until you want to understand other people’s hearts, you would have been hurt countless times.”

“…”

“I’d rather… all the wounds you’ve received disappear. Even if you can’t understand others, even if you feel awkward with me forever.”

I shivered. It was an entirely unexpected statement.

It was the first time Dad had reacted to Nathan Colta since hearing about it.

A heart darker and deeper than the late night spread across Dad’s face, and his purple eyes stood out, burning blue.

“You can’t even forget. Why should you remember such wounds for the rest of your life? Why?”

… the anger I had seen in others was nothing compared to this.

More intense than the vortexes I sometimes create, it swirled in his eyes.

Relentless and mighty as a storm.

An unopposable natural disaster. Violent, dangerous, powerful… an overwhelming force that felt no guilt.

A lightning-like realization hit me.

‘Dad would never let Nathan Colta off the hook.’

Dad had clearly said this.

– Flowers should not overflow, and swords should not fall short.

Then, how many swords had Dad prepared for Nathan Colta?

Seeing my aghast face, Dad pressed his eyelids as if to suppress his anger.

When he opened his eyes again, he was smiling softly.

“Even if I can’t change the wounds you’ve already received, I don’t want you to get hurt anymore. I’ll protect you with everything I have.”

The desire for thorough revenge and the desire to protect me from harm both stemmed from the same love for me.

Knowing that, I could only nod for now.

“Good night, Claire. See you tomorrow.”

Dad patted me again and gently ushered me into my room.

The waiting maids surrounded me, chattering.

“Miss, you were talking outside for a long time in this heat. Are you alright?”

“It seems you were indeed hot. You don’t look well… shall we go wash up right away?”

“Should we lower the water temperature a bit today?”

“… yes, please.”

Although I hadn’t been the for even half a year, these maids were adept as if they had served me all their lives.

Following their guidance, I bathed, tidied up for the day, and went to bed in a daze.

“Goodnight, Miss.”

Edna, who had been extinguishing all the lights in the room, gave a final greeting.

The last remaining light she held receded with a soft sound. The door closed silently.

Their care to ensure I slept well was perfect, but…

‘… I can’t sleep.’

There was no way I could sleep after hearing those words.

I tossed and turned a bit.

The words I heard today rolled around in my mind. The words Dad said to Mom and the words he said to me tangled into different clusters, all mixed up.

Of course, the way Dad loved Mom and the way he loved me were clearly different.

But if there was one thing that was the same… both were devoid of logic or limits.

It was a kind of affection that made me wonder if I would ever get used to it.

Rolling around in bed, I eventually lay on my back. My eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, traced the long drape of the canopy by the bed.

My gaze wandered up into the air.

The view was filled with calm and gentle darkness.

Beyond the tangled words, a new thought flashed in my mind.

‘Ah. Come to think of it, I will end up going to the temple.’

And an absurd chuckle slipped out.

Not knowing what kind of revenge Nathan Colta was undergoing, I was more concerned about the healthy birth of my sister.

The fact that I almost killed my unborn sister bothered me more than whatever was happening to Nathan.

My mind was buzzing with restlessness.

‘Is this the right thing?’

Or maybe, even if it was not the right thing… was it just a natural thing because we were human?

I fell asleep while pondering this.

My dream was quiet despite my chaotic mind. Dark, cozy, and warm.

Like being in my mother’s womb.

It was a very peaceful dream.

* * *

… but waking up didn’t completely erase my thoughts of Nathan Colta.

Instead, those thoughts sprang up frequently, riding on curiosity and fear. They popped up unexpectedly at every turn of my daily life, like stumbling over pebbles.

It wasn’t out of worry for Nathan Colta.

To be honest, I didn’t think I would ever feel pity or concern for whatever he went through.

What nagged at me was…

‘I wonder if any innocent people got caught up in this without knowing why?’

If it were May, when I first met Dad, I would have trusted Astariol’s sharp intellect and cold nature and not worried at all.

But now, I just couldn’t trust it.