ROSE

  A week has passed since I tried to escape what they call a hospital.

  I am forced to remain calm and stay in this place, my body still too weak to attempt another escape. I wait… truly wait, expecting the Demon King’s envoys to come for me at any moment.

  But no one comes.

  So I remain inside this strange healing temple, where magic does not come from runic circles or divine blessings, but from incomprehensible artifacts that hum softly and shine with constant light.

  My wounds heal.

  My body responds again.

  I feel better now.

  That can only mean one thing.

  It is time to leave and resume my search for the Demon King.

  However, there are still urgent matters I must resolve first.

  The first…

  I have lost my sword.

  And my armor.

  …

  Wait.

  That means these sorcerers saw me naked.

  Heat rushes to my face at once.

  If my father were to learn that his daughter’s dignity had been trampled in such a way, he would hang these so-called healers in the city square without hesitation.

  Scoundrels.

  They will answer for this.

  As I sink deeper into my indignant thoughts, the door suddenly opens.

  Soft footsteps enter the room.

  I tense immediately.

  “Hello, Rose,” says the man called Ryujin.

  This time, he is not alone.

  Beside him stands a young woman with delicate features, clearly different from him. She wears clothing unlike anything I have seen before, though it does not resemble a healer’s robe either.

  “Oh… it’s her,” the girl whispers, observing me closely.

  “Kiyomi, this is Rose. The girl I told you about.”

  “Her eyes… those are contacts.”

  The last words confuse me completely.

  “H-hello,” I say awkwardly.

  “Hello, Rose. My name is Kiyomi Arima. I’m a nurse…” she introduces herself, then frowns slightly. “Wait… she can speak Japanese?”

  (Ja… pa… nese?)

  “Not completely,” Ryujin replies. “She seems to understand only if we speak slowly.”

  Kiyomi nods, and Ryujin adds, as if mentioning something insignificant,

  “Oh, and if I remember correctly… Yoshida was discharged earlier today.”

  (Yo… shi… da?)

  “So,” Kiyomi continues, “what are we going to do about her, Ryujin?”

  “Huh?” I respond instinctively.

  What are they going to do about me?

  Ha. As if I cannot take care of myself.

  Third-rate sorcerers.

  Ryujin sits in a chair near the wall, crosses his arms, and watches me seriously.

  “Rose,” he says, “do you have somewhere to go?”

  I fall silent.

  That… I did not expect.

  What is this sorcerer planning?

  “Y-yes,” I answer, though my voice lacks the firmness I intended.

  Ryujin rests a hand on his chin and speaks calmly.

  “If I remember correctly, we found you near the bay. You were half dead.”

  “You didn’t have a passport, documents, or anything that tells us where you’re from or who you are.”

  “You’re not from Japan… and your Japanese is very basic.”

  He keeps talking, but little by little, the meaning of his words slips away from me.

  Kiyomi looks just as uncertain as I feel, until she finally steps in.

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  “What we mean, Rose… is whether you could stay with us.”

  “Ah…?”

  That only confuses me more.

  A faint chill runs down my spine.

  Is there some hidden motive behind this?

  Are they spies of the Demon King?

  In the end, to avoid prolonging the conversation, they explain that they can take care of me, teach me about this world, and when I am ready, let me leave in search of the person I seek.

  Naturally, I omit the small detail that this “person” is the Demon King.

  Still…

  I observe them carefully.

  I feel no hostility.

  No deception.

  They are… good people.

  And though I hate to admit it, I need allies in this new world.

  After that, they escort me outside, and we climb once more into what I once believed to be a rolling golem—though they insist on calling it a car.

  During the ride, I notice something strange.

  In the reflection of a polished glass panel at the front of the golem—like an enchanted mirror showing the road ahead—I see Ryujin glancing at me from time to time.

  It makes me uncomfortable.

  Just as the silence begins to weigh on me, he speaks.

  “Rose… do you like theater?”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s just that we have your belongings with us,” he continues. “And among them… there was something interesting.”

  “A suit of knight armor.”

  My eyes widen.

  “Rea—really!?” I exclaim. “Sword?”

  My words still come out short and clumsy.

  Ryujin laughs softly.

  “I didn’t find any sword,” he admits. “But the armor… I have to say, it’s an incredibly well-made cosplay.”

  “The details are impressive.”

  …

  Cosplay?

  Something tightens inside my chest.

  Fake armor?

  “Cos… play?” I repeat, unable to understand.

  Kiyomi, seated in front while reviewing papers filled with symbols, speaks without turning around.

  “Ryujin, seriously… was she in that condition when you found her?”

  “Yeah,” he replies. “Honestly, she should’ve ended up in a vegetative state.”

  I understand none of it.

  Kiyomi glances at me over her shoulder, making me even more uncomfortable—until she suddenly smiles gently.

  She is very beautiful.

  Then she returns to her papers.

  “By the way,” she asks, “where’s Yoshida?”

  “He should be waiting for us at home.”

  Ryujin looks at me again through the glass.

  “Rose,” he says calmly, “I want you to know something.”

  “You can rely on us.”

  I blink.

  “While we search for your family… or the country you came from,” he continues, “we’ll take care of you.”

  Take care of me?

  I almost laugh.

  Ha. As if a royal knight needs protection.

  I have cut down more than two hundred enemy soldiers.

  “Uh… yes,” I say instead.

  “Thank you. I suppose.”

  If forming an alliance with these strange sorcerers helps me find the bastard Demon King… then so be it.

  “While you stay with us,” Ryujin adds, “you’ll meet my younger brother. Yoshida. He’s about your age.”

  “I hope you get along.”

  Another one?

  Fine. More allies are not a bad thing.

  “…Okay,” I murmur.

  I turn my attention back outside.

  Gradually, the city fades, replaced by a quieter, greener landscape… one that begins to remind me of—

  Sellows Hill.

  A chill runs down my spine.

  By the gods… how could I have forgotten?

  The curiosity in my eyes fades, replaced once more by resolve.

  I am not here to rest.

  The Queen.

  Ken.

  Commander Niles.

  I cannot fail them.

  After what feels like an eternity—

  “We’re here,” Ryujin says.

  The rolling golem comes to a smooth stop.

  They step out naturally. Ryujin looks back at me.

  “You’re not getting out?”

  “Huh? Yes… yes.”

  Damn it. How does one exit this thing?

  He opens the door for me.

  Embarrassed, I follow them toward a modest house. When Kiyomi opens the door, a strange feeling washes over me.

  Peace.

  The yard is surrounded by pink-blossomed trees. The air feels clean. Quiet.

  Too quiet.

  And then—

  I see him.

  Sitting near an open window, atop a strange device resembling an improvised throne, his figure slowly turns toward us.

  He does not push wheels.

  He does not move his arms.

  The object simply responds to him.

  “We’re home,” Ryujin says.

  The young man raises his gaze.

  For a moment, the world seems to stop.

  His skin is pale beneath the soft evening light. His eyes, dim yet deep, hold something I cannot name. There is no fear in them. No pity.

  Only a quiet calm.

  His dark hair sways gently in the breeze coming through the window.

  He looks like Ryujin… an exact copy, only younger.

  Far too young.

  And yet…

  A strange pressure forms in my chest.

  Not attraction.

  Not compassion.

  It feels like looking at a sword forever sheathed—and knowing it could still be dangerous.

  “Welcome home,” he says softly. “Brother Ryujin. Kiyomi-san.”

  Then his eyes settle on me.

  He studies me in silence.

  Not as one looks at a threat.

  Not as one looks at a stranger.

  But as if trying to understand something.

  “And she…?”

  “This is Rose,” Ryujin replies. “She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

  I step forward.

  “Hel… lo.”

  I extend my hand, following the greeting of my homeland.

  He does not respond.

  For a moment, irritation rises within me.

  Is he ignoring me?

  Then he smiles.

  Not arrogantly.

  Tired. Honest.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I can’t return the gesture.”

  The chair remains still.

  “My name is Yoshida,” he continues.

  “And I can’t move from the neck down.”

  Silence falls.

  Something inside me shifts.

  It is not pity.

  Not sorrow.

  Something deeper.

  Because even so…

  He does not seem weak.

  After a while, Ryujin and Yoshida continue speaking quietly, as if this were an ordinary evening. Meanwhile, Miss Kiyomi gently takes my hands and guides me down the hallway.

  “Come,” she says with a smile. “I’ll show you your room.”

  I nod and follow her.

  Before turning the corner, I glance back.

  For a brief moment, Yoshida’s eyes meet mine.

  There is something in his gaze—a faint light slowly fading, like a flame protected from the wind. Not sadness. Not anger.

  Something quieter.

  I look away immediately.

  For some reason, I feel the strange sensation that we are both curious about each other.

  I don’t understand why.

  The house is small and modest, yet filled with a peaceful warmth unlike any fortress or military camp I have known. When we stop before a door, Kiyomi opens it.

  “Well… here it is.”

  I step inside cautiously.

  The room is simple, tidy, lit by a soft light that does not hurt the eyes. A low bed, a small table, a light wooden wardrobe.

  Pretty.

  Too pretty.

  Definitely not my style.

  During campaigns, I slept on cold ground, wrapped in cloaks beside a fire. This… feels like a place meant for true rest.

  “I prepared it especially for you,” Kiyomi says. “I even decorated a little.”

  Thank you, miss… but it wasn’t necessary, I think.

  “Thank you,” I say aloud. “It’s exactly how I like it.”

  I lie.

  If Ken saw me now, he would mock me mercilessly.

  Kiyomi smiles, satisfied.

  “Then I’ll leave you to rest. I need to go back to Ryujin.”

  “Thank you again, Miss Kiyomi.”

  “I’ll come by sometimes,” she adds. “And I’ll teach you Japanese.”

  She pauses before leaving.

  “Don’t worry. Ryujin and I will try to find information about your family… or your country.”

  I nod, unsure how to respond.

  After she leaves, I am alone.

  I organize the few things I have. My armor, carefully folded, rests in a corner of the room—like something belonging to another world.

  Then I fall onto the strange, soft bed and stare at the ceiling.

  I raise my fist in front of me and take a slow breath.

  “What a mess…” I murmur.

  Everything that has happened these past few days feels unreal.

  “The Demon King lives in this world,” I whisper. “And yet… no one here seems afraid of him.”

  The thought unsettles me.

  “Has he already been defeated…?”

  My eyelids grow heavy.

  “I have to find him…” I manage to say. “And—”

  I never finish the sentence.

  Exhaustion overtakes me.

  And for the first time since arriving in this peaceful, unfamiliar world, I fall into a deep sleep.