I’m standing across from the orphan who tried to kill me. We’re in the dormitory, in the room where we normally train. There’s probably about a dozen onlookers to my left, and Sigmund is to my right.

“So, June, what you’re telling me is that he tried to kill you in the middle of your mission?”

“Yes. Like a fucking coward, no less.”

“Why?”

“I’m sick of her sacrificing us for her own ends! She got my friend killed, too!” I feel a sting in my heart at the deaths of the younger orphan and the body double I designated for the Baron.

“And yet, you had no plan to do better than me.” I feel my shame shift towards cold aggression. “You planned so little, in fact, that you didn’t even think to just walk away of your own accord.”

The orphan crossed his arms. “Just because you feel the need to hide yourself from your problems doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”

Sigmund interrupts us before I can consider throttling him on the spot. “Alright, I’ve heard enough. What do you plan to do with him, June?”

I inhale, and exhale. Some perverse part of me wanted to execute him, but I hold it back. It wouldn’t be right. “I will give you one choice… Leave, or die.”

He sticks his chin up. “I’m not leaving this place just because you of all people told me to leave! Besides...” I see him smile. “I think I’d rather die.”

I’m sure it was just a bluff. “So, death it is.” I walk towards him, all of four paces. “Are you sure about this?”

“Go ahead, if you’re even able to do it.”

Damn it. There’s a tension in my heart. I can’t support backstabbing, but I understand why he did it. I hesitate.

He tilts his head, almost as a taunt. “Go on… I’m waiting.”

I feel myself freeze over. Despite myself, I let my hands go around my wakizashi, unlocking the blade with my thumb. With a heavy heart, I tug the sword free of its scabbard, swinging for his neck…

My point stops an inch from his neck. I look over to see Sigmund’s hand on my forearm. His face, surprisingly enough, is neutral, as if he didn’t actually disapprove of my decision. “Now, now, June, you don’t have to actually go through with this.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I feel my hand tighten on the wakizashi’s hilt. Why did he think he needed to save me from my own decision like this? “You don’t need to protect me from the responsibility. I’ll be fine.” Those words felt like a lie, but I was willing to follow through, regrets be damned.

“Let me speak first.” He looks to the orphan. I saw him flinch when I made the swing, and I can tell he’s scared now, but he’s hiding it-or at least trying to. “I’ll be honest, I mostly agree with June here. You need to go.”

“Why the fuck would you side with HER after what she did to us!? How can you support someone who casually sacrifices us like we’re disposable wipes?”

Sigmund exhales. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I appointed June as a field leader to make incredibly difficult decisions with wisdom and good judgment while under immense pressure. I understand how you feel about her plans, but it’s simply not realistic to expect her to be able to go through every situation without putting her underlings at some sort of risk. Her goal is to find the best plan feasible, not the most ideal one.”

The orphan pauses, lost in thought. “Okay, now I get it. I just didn’t know that before.” He rubs the back of his head. “Could you forgive me and let me stay anyway?”

“That’s not my call.” Sigmund smiled, looking over to me.

I set my wakizashi back in its scabbard. “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

“Buuut-”

“No. You’re out. Not just out of the Haracrein, I want you out of Halych entirely.” I almost couldn’t believe my own words, but they came out all the same.

He pouts, crossing his arms.

Emotional manipulation. The accusation crossed my mind, fast as a viper’s strike, and just as cold-blooded. It’s obvious he’s playing every card he has to try and avoid his fate, but I’m getting sick of his games.

“Pouting around isn’t going to work on me. You have until tomorrow morning to settle your affairs.” I turn around, uncaring of his sudden wave of stuttering as I leave the room.

I march all the way up and into my quarters, shutting the door behind me and locking it. I pull both my swords out of my belt, setting them against the wall. Finally isolated, I let myself break down.

I didn’t know where to begin. I didn’t even feel like myself down there; what got into me? The way I almost insisted on executing him even when Sigmund gave me an out, my cynical accusation when the orphan pouted-I didn’t understand why. I slink over to the bathroom, to look in the mirror. Maybe a splash of water will get me to wake up and figure my shit out…

Oh, if it were only that simple. I look in the mirror to see a figure behind me. It’s like the figure I saw in the mirror before, after the hideout raid.

‘You saved that orphan and his friends from a life of servitude as drug mules, and he repays you by trying to kill you. When will you learn that they aren’t worth your kindness and empathy?’

I shiver, looking away from the mirror. I wanted to refute that figure, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I held on to my faith in humanity as I left home hoping I’d find better people, but I just end up getting hurt again and again. I feel my heart sink, realizing the futility of my position. I look to the figure in the mirror. “You… You’re right. It really does feel like I’m reenacting the story of the Farmer and the Viper perpetually.” My voice comes out as little more than a soft whimper. With an inhale, and an exhale, I rally myself. “But, I can’t just up and assume everyone’s a bastard. After all, I’m trying to be a better person, and isn’t that proof enough of the exceptions to the rule?”

The figure frowns. ‘You might’ve fooled yourself into thinking you do, but you don’t owe them a damn thing. Remember that.’ The figure vanishes, and as I stare, trying to process her words, I also realized that her face looked less like Lariat’s and closer to my own. With a heavy heart, I slink back out of the bathroom and to my room, flopping onto my bed to stare at the ceiling.

The figure in the mirror was wrong-or at least, that’s how part of me felt, but she was also ultimately right. I never really took the time out to seriously think about how grimly futile my efforts ended up being, but it hurt to think about all the times it just didn’t go my way. I kept trying to hope that I’d eventually find better people, or at least leave myself satisfied with the consolation prize that I wasn’t as bad as them… But is it really worth all this pain? Just to prove I’m better than they are?

If she was right about that much, then maybe she had a point when she said that I didn’t owe the rest of humankind anything. It was a thought that weighed upon me for the rest of the day.