Chapter Forty-Five: This Is What a Defeated Dog Looks Like

Makiba Nagataka endured her scathing rebuke; at first, he managed to maintain a strained smile, but when he heard her final words laced with an implicit threat, his composure finally broke, his expression darkening with rage.

Damn it, you're nothing more than the daughter of a bureaucrat from the External Affairs system—do you really think you can dictate terms to the Public Security system?

So you want me dead, is that it? Fine! Let's see how this plays out!

At this moment, Makiba Nagataka, alarmed by threats to his career, was consumed by thoughts of how to leverage his connections within the Public Security Committee to guard against attacks from people in External Affairs. Yet he never once considered that when Tsukimi Suzuna said, "Sooner or later, you'll die an ugly death," she might not have been referring to the end of his political life.

After listening to Tsukimi Suzuna's angry tirade against Makiba Nagataka, Ruiho Rishu, standing nearby, could only marvel in astonishment.

Her position in the Sixth Strategy Division was unassailable—mainly because no one in the Intelligence Group could fill her role, so she never worried about Makiba Nagataka giving her trouble.

But to berate the director so fiercely... Ruiho Rishu knew she would never dare such a thing.

This girl, so reckless and bold, unafraid of anything, was truly formidable.

By now, it was past midnight. Outside, the wind and snow grew louder, icy gusts rattling the window panes. Earlier, the blizzard had only surrounded Ryo City, never touching its heart, but now, with Nishikawa Miye fleeing with the ghouls, the mysterious force that once shielded the town seemed to have vanished as well.

Ruiho Rishu rose and turned up the floor heating, finally feeling the chill that had seeped into the room begin to recede.

She glanced at Tsukimi Suzuna. At some point, the girl had climbed onto Chen Zi'ang's bed—not undressing, of course, but sitting upright against the headboard, playing on her phone, her flawless legs warming the covers.

Had it been any other man, even without physical intimacy, sharing a bed would be the height of ambiguity—a clear invitation. But Chen Zi'ang lay unconscious, unaware of anything, so Tsukimi Suzuna truly had no ulterior motive. She was simply worried his weakened body would struggle to generate heat, and with the room cooling, she didn't want him to catch cold.

"You really do care about him," Ruiho Rishu remarked, settling back in front of her laptop.

"Did you notice, Rishu?" Tsukimi Suzuna asked, surprised.

"I'm not blind," Ruiho Rishu replied after a pause, then asked curiously, "But even so, isn't this a bit too sudden for love at first sight? You've only known each other less than a month, right?"

Tsukimi Suzuna was silent for a moment, then smiled softly.

"Actually, it's been more than a month."

"You knew him before?" Ruiho Rishu asked quietly.

"Something like that." Tsukimi Suzuna lowered her gaze to Chen Zi'ang, a faint sorrow glimmering in her smile. "He surely doesn't remember."

Ruiho Rishu studied her carefully.

No, it wasn't love at first sight.

When she looked at Chen Zi'ang, the tenderness and longing in her eyes were so profound, it could easily be mistaken for the affection of a couple who had loved each other all their lives.

This kind of emotional attachment, nurtured through long and deep acquaintance, was distinctly different from the fleeting impulses stirred by hormones.

Recalling several academic papers she had read, Ruiho Rishu only grew more certain of her judgment—and more curious about their past.

"Do you want him to remember?" She closed her laptop, turned to face Suzuna. "If you need help, I know some hypnotic techniques that might awaken dormant memories."

"Mystical methods?" Tsukimi Suzuna asked in surprise.

"Yes," Ruiho Rishu admitted openly.

"Maybe not." Tsukimi Suzuna seemed tempted, but soon shook her head. "As things are now, it's actually quite nice."

Ruiho Rishu watched her closely, sensing a hint of insincerity, yet also a genuine confession.

"If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m not at all sleepy," she offered quietly.

"To talk?" Tsukimi Suzuna paused, caught off guard.

In her memory, there were far too many heavy, dark parts—things she could never let anyone know at this hour. Yet precisely because of this, she carried a burden of mental stress far beyond ordinary people. Perhaps talking would lighten it, as long as she avoided anything critical... but was Ruiho Rishu trustworthy?

After some thought, Tsukimi Suzuna spoke softly.

"Rishu, if you had someone you loved deeply, but in the end, because you failed to prevent an accident, they left you forever—how would you feel?"

Ruiho Rishu pondered for a long time, then shook her head.

"I've never been in love, but... I'd be sad, I suppose?"

Tsukimi Suzuna whispered,

"Sadness is inevitable; it’s only a matter of degree."

"The deeper you love him, the harder it is to let go. If he's grown into your heart, then losing him is like tearing a piece from your heart itself—the emptiness left behind bleeds, hurts endlessly, makes you want to cry until the tears are gone and your soul dries up. From then on, you become nothing but a hollow shell—a shell without any emotion."

"Your remaining days are tormented by a relentless sense of emptiness, as if you've lost all meaning. You might even consider ending your life countless times, because living means enduring pain. But perhaps... for all sorts of reasons, you still have to go on. At that point, life itself becomes a prison, binding you to suffering, forcing you to endure it, to continue in a zombie-like existence, all the while wishing for release."

She suddenly smiled in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I said something strange—hope I didn't trouble you, Rishu."

"...It's fine." Ruiho Rishu was plainly stunned, taking a long time before answering. "I never thought... it could be so profound."

"So it’s nice as it is," Tsukimi Suzuna replied softly.

Though she had resolved to fight for him this time, simply being able to accompany her senior like this was already enough.

She placed her phone beside the pillow, continued to gaze at Chen Zi'ang’s face, and began to hum a clear, melodious tune.

The song was gentle and long, ethereal and graceful, suffused with a subtle, unspoken sadness. Ruiho Rishu found herself entranced by the music.

After a while, as Tsukimi Suzuna’s humming faded, Ruiho Rishu quietly asked,

"I've never heard it before. What song is that?"

"It's called 'Scarborough Fair,'" Tsukimi Suzuna replied.

"I can't find it." Ruiho Rishu searched the internet for the title, but found nothing useful. "It sounds like a ballad from the elves?"

"I don't know," Tsukimi Suzuna said with a gentle smile. "Someone taught me how to sing it."

"Could you tell me the lyrics?" Ruiho Rishu persisted, wanting to search further.

"Yes." Tsukimi Suzuna thought for a moment, the last line lingering in her mind.

...He was once my true love.

And he still is.