Part Two - 10 | Burden

Time passes you by as though it does not exist. The life of today slowly dies out as night nears, casting shadows upon the field in which the sunlight barely touches anymore. It isn't very surprising to you that Linia took up the entire day sparring with you. She's barely taken any breaks, beating away at her own energy with every drop of blood and sweat she sheds.

You've never seen such a resilient soul, or at least you don't think you have. Before her, there was simply no one quite as daring. Not even her sister. The more time you spend clashing with her in the field with both fist and magic, the easier the realization comes to you that she was always more than a delinquent. It's just taken you some time to crack that shell around her, to force out whatever lay buried beneath feigned ignorance.

The day ends with Linia striking you one last time. She lunges, lets out a triumphant howl and pummels you with a final swing. It connects with your wrist, for you had been guarding the whole time, instantly sending sharp pains through more than just your arm.

You step back before she can throw another. "Okay," you say, "nice job."

Linia's eyes light up. "You mean it, Boss? Am I stronger than you yet?"

"Well, I'm not exactly a fist fighter, so you were already way above me there." You pat down your uniform, dusting off bits and pieces of dirt you collected from falling and rolling in the dirt earlier.

When your eyes land on that uniform, you feel a vile taste rising in your throat. Just the sight of an academy you were meant to excel in being turned into your personal battlefield makes you queasy. Before the sisters, life was easy. This uniform reminds you of the freedom you could have had, yet now it has flawlessly slipped through your fingers and you are forever unable to reach your dreams. Sickening.

You're snapped out of this regretful trance when Linia puts an arm round your shoulder, pulling you close. "What's that empty look on your face for, Boss? C'mooon, fess up, you can talk to me, mrow."

You avoid her eyes and carry on glancing down at the academy uniform — a symbol of your loss. "It's nothing," you say, shaking your head. Linia gives you a playful squeeze, clearly not buying your lie.

"It's the school, ain't it? Feeling sour about the whole thing?"

It's like she read your mind. Your eyes trace her smug face a moment before you break out of her hold and start healing the few scratches on your arms. Your silence worries the girl. She refuses to back down. Linia sticks by your side, placing herself in front of you. She is no longer grinning. Instead, as though she can taste the bitter regret brewing within you, she appears tense.

"Talk, Boss." Linia crosses her arms. "I know damn well you don't miss that place. After everything that happened to us. Being targeted by the whole student body. How come you're upset?"

You shrug. "I wasn't their target."

Linia's eyes narrow at you, dimming with a faint sense of contempt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"If I would've stayed out of the way, I wouldn't have become a target. But now I'm here. I'm here and I'm stressed. That's all."

It's impossible for you to look her in the eye. Though she stares you down, you continue looking at anything but her because you know all you're doing is spilling your heart. You know it may not be the truth she wants to hear.

"And how do you think we feel?" Linia persists. "We didn't ask for this. Pursena definitely didn't ask to be targeted by both the school and a slave trader."

"I know, but I was never involved with this until recently. I've only known you for a few months and I'm already being dragged into—"

You stop yourself right there, unable to force more words out of your throat. Your eyes flick up to Linia's, then dart away again when you find disgust plastered on her face. She steps forward, firm, getting in your face.

"Oh, don't go all quiet on me now. Say it. Tell me how much you actually hate being around us," she says, her voice a cold whisper. "Tell me how stressed you are. Tell me we're burdens to you."

You don't say a word, drawing Linia even closer. Her hiss snakes deep into your ears. "Say it."

"That's not it," you admit. "I don't hate being around you. Sure, I'm stressed, but..."

But they do feel like burdens on my shoulders.

Weights. That's all you perceive the sisters to be. Everything has only spiraled further down ever since you came into contact with these girls. You keep reminding yourself that. None of this is your fault. None of this is your fault. This is happening because of them. You are stressed and afraid because of them.

"I get it," Linia says, backing away. "I really do. You feel stuck with us, don't ya?"

You shake your head but the gesture is not very convincing. Your expression betrays you, causing the girl to gaze at you with an even deeper hatred.

"What happens if my sister gets taken away, hmm? Won't you be devastated after she confessed to you?"

The memory of connecting your lips with Pursena's runs through your head.

"Won't you miss her? And what if he takes me too? Sure, it ain't part of the agreement, but that slave owner asshole could sweep me up just as easy. Wouldn't you hate to see us taken, Boss?"

You stare down at the ground, feeling yourself prepare to nod to her words when she carries on speaking over your quiet thoughts.

"Or maybe you'd like it," she says, taking another step back away from you. You don't know what she's doing but if you had to guess, you'd say Linia is putting distance between you as though this were about to become a fight.

"Maybe you want to see us gone," she continues, her voice hot with loathing. "We wouldn't be burdens to you anymore. All your stress would vanish. Ain't that right? Ain't that what you want?"

You are soft-spoken when you respond. "No."

"Liar!" she shouts. You look and see the girl clenching her fists, her tail thrashing about in the air in agitation. Linia has assumed a combative stance and gazes deep into your soul, not a hint of mercy behind her crimson hues.

"I don't like liars, Boss," she says. "And I can't stand cowards. Right now, all you sound like is a damned coward." She hops on her feet, putting her fists up in the air. The faint moonlight brings out the deepest sparks of red in her eyes, casting a grim predatory facade down on her.

You face her with your whole body, putting on a brave face despite knowing what's about to happen.

"Boss, thanks for training with me earlier," Linia says. "I learned a lot. I know all your weaknesses now. And I also know you're just bound to betray us at some point, so I'm gonna beat some sense into your ass before that time comes. That way, when it does happen, I'll have already relieved myself of the anger and hate, nya."

You summon a small fireball in your hand, staring down the long moonlit field at Linia who bears only the thought of beating you to a pulp in mind. All reason has been drained from her heart. To her, "Boss" is just a cowardly joke. And where there is cowardice, there is dwindling trust.

. . .