Page 304 of The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

Memory (??)

It means "to not forget and to remember things from the past." Whether it’s something you want to cherish, or something you wish to erase from your mind, the word holds a cruel meaning of carrying the past within and swallowing it whole.

Forgetfulness (??), on the other hand, means "to forget." It also carries the implication of the "disappearance of the other" in a different sense.

It’s a cruel yet sweet word.

To be unable to remember means... to be forgotten by everyone as well.

Memory and forgetfulness could never coexist.

For memory to exist, forgetfulness must not, and for forgetfulness to prevail, memory cannot be present. Thus, memory and forgetfulness could never be friends.

Even in moments when everything gets crushed underfoot, memory holds onto that moment and harbors complex emotions like "someday," dreaming of revenge, while forgetfulness forces one to give up.

Memory... can never always be beautiful.

The same was true for Mikhail.

"Is it tasty?""...Yeah.""Then have mine, too.""What about you?""I'm not hungry."

If there are moments of happiness...

Cough"...Ah... Ahhhh!""Run away."

...then there are also the worst moments.

Memories that refuse to fade can sometimes appear as nightmares, and whisper that it would have been better if they could just be erased from the mind.

The burden he carried was unbearably heavy.

Mikhail was not on friendly terms with forgetfulness.

He remembered all the memories he didn’t want to forget. Even in moments when he was gasping for breath, even in spaces where he had lost direction in life...

Memory was still breathing fully. He longed for forgetfulness but simultaneously hated it.

Soaking in the bath, Mikhail gazed at the rippling water and let out a soft sigh.

"..."

He wondered if the justice he once knew was truly right.

The reason he had yearned for justice so desperately, even after being called foolish for clinging to it, was now gone.

Ricardo... The hero who seemed like he had stepped out of a fairy tale. The justice he sought was different from the one I practiced.

"..."

To become a better person, and to show you that the life you saved was now shining brightly, I carried out this sense of justice... but I’ve come to realize it wasn’t what he wanted. Now, I couldn’t figure out which tune I should be dancing to.

At the convent, where they had instilled in me the concept of justice...

"Mikhail, I heard from the sister that you want to learn swordsmanship?""Yes.""Why?""Because I want to punish the bad people.""...The bad people?""The ones who bullied me. I want to show my mother who abandoned me that I’ve become stronger. And... I want to kill the man who killed my friend.""Mikhail.""Yes.""That’s the wrong way of thinking. God loves us, and He always wishes for forgiveness. Sometimes, when we face trials we cannot bear, we must still carry them and forgive—that’s the right heart to have.""But, Sister, I can’t forgive that person."

That day, Mikhail had spoken out against the sister. It was the first time he had defied the person who raised him like her own child.

"Sister, could you forgive someone if they killed all the children and clergy at the convent?""If it were God’s love...""I lost everything.""...""The one who saved me after my parents abandoned me... The friend who loved me enough to sacrifice themselves for me... I abandoned them!""...""Do you know how angry I am? How furious I am!"

The sister had given him two choices that day.

One choice was a promise.

"Could you make a promise to me, then?"..."Promise me you won’t commit senseless killings.""Unless they’re bad people.""No, you need to try to understand and make an effort. They surely have painful stories, too. You should give them time to reflect.""But what if they don’t become good?""God is not heartless. He will deliver the punishment."

The second choice was the sword.

"In exchange, I will teach you swordsmanship.""You, Sister?""Yes, there was a time when I was blinded by revenge, just like you, Mikhail.""Did you succeed?""..."

That was all he had learned at the convent.

Swordsmanship and restraint.

Because of that, he had gained the strength of restraint, which allowed him to navigate the ambiguous path of justice. And as he continued to chase his dreams blindly, the weight of justice was placed upon him, making him even more obsessed with that concept.

The sister wasn’t wrong.

It was just...

God’s love was too immense.

"..."

Now, standing at a blurry crossroads of justice, Mikhail hugged his knees and muttered quietly.

"...I don’t know."

He didn’t know which tune to dance to.

And yet...

"Everything in moderation is best, Mikhail."

It was undeniable that the justice he believed in was flawed. He was foolish, always getting stabbed in the back.

What was the justice I envisioned?

I had come to realize that justice for the weak was no longer so beautiful. The path of justice I walked had picked the greatest wrong... What on earth was it?

Mikhail stepped out of the bath and began to dry off with a towel. As he wiped himself down with a heavy heart, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment wasn’t particularly welcome.

The longer the silence dragged on, the more anxiety settled into his mind.

One step. Two steps.

As Mikhail dressed and returned to his room, he bowed his head, trying to soothe his melancholic mood.

Then, suddenly...

"..."

Mikhail stopped in his tracks.

A chill made him turn around. Even though the hallway was perfectly normal, a strange cold made him furrow his brow.

...

What was more terrifying than the cold...

...

...was the overwhelming silence.

The chilling silence allowed the sound of rain outside the window to seep in. Normally, in a busy inn, the sound of people talking or moving objects would drown out the quiet.

Shhhhhh...

The external sounds came through vividly.

Mikhail clenched his fists in unease. Staring straight at his door, just ten steps away, he swallowed hard.

Ten steps.

Just ten steps, and he could escape this strange feeling into the safety of his room.

It might just be needless worry, but... this situation reminded him too much of that day.

Shhhhhh...

"Who are you, mister?"

"It’s you... the child with the fascinating memories."

"Who... who are you?"

Remembering that eerie silence from before, Mikhail took a deep breath, counted one, two, three, and kicked off the floor, running as fast as he could.

He knew it was rude to run down the hallway at this hour, but his instincts were screaming at him.

"This is strange...!"

Without looking back, Mikhail sprinted.

Then, all at once...

Creeeeak.

"..."

Doors along both sides of the hallway began to open as if they had been waiting for him to pass by.

There were all sorts of people.

A tall man. A woman with long hair. A rough-looking older man. And a young child.

These strangers opened their doors and stared blankly at Mikhail as he ran past, each with the same expression.

"...Their faces."

Their faces were blank.

Just like the couple he had seen at the entrance of the village, all of them looked at him with expressionless faces.

With a bang, Mikhail slammed his door shut.

And then, suddenly...

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock...

A maddening knocking sound filled the room.

"Student!""Sister!""Miss!"

Everyone started calling Mikhail in different voices. They pounded on the door, dragging out the nightmares buried deep within his heart, spitting out the memories # Nоvеlight # he wished he could forget.

"How could you leave so heartlessly? I was stabbed because of you. Why didn’t you remember me, even for a moment?""It hurts... It hurts...! I was wrong... Die in my place.""Hah... Hahaha! I died because of you. You killed me."

With his eyes clenched shut, Mikhail braced himself against the door, grinding his teeth.

Where had it all gone wrong? Who were they, and why were they doing this all of a sudden? Mikhail couldn’t understand.

Then, as their enraged voices vanished...

"You need to remember."

A familiar male voice echoed from the hallway.

The voice of the man he most wanted to kill. The voice of the man who had once made him weep tears of blood.

"If you forget, then who’s going to remember?"

It was terrifying.

"You have to remember, boy."

That man’s chilling voice.

Click... Click...

His heavy footsteps as he approached.

"Boy, do you know how much a person can remember?"

It felt as if he were being dragged back to those powerless days.

"You know nothing. Pfft... Hahahaha!!!"

Mikhail...

Shudder...

...was scared.