"Roy, I brought you a music box! These are really hard to find nowadays—it took me a lot of effort to track one down!"
One day, the girl brought a music box.
"Roy, I brought a book! Let me read it to you!"
One day, the girl brought a book.
"Roy, this is a Rubik's Cube for the blind! It has braille patterns—let me teach you how to play with it!"
One day, the girl brought a Rubik's Cube.
She always found new ways to cheer him up, to soothe his anger and boredom.
Most of the time, Roy welcomed her visits.
Compared to the magi or the emotionless homunculi, he much preferred Jeanne, whose emotions were so much richer.
Occasionally, Roy would still fly into a rage for no reason, wreaking havoc in the hospital room.
The girl never said a word. She would only enter after everything had quieted down, silently cleaning up the mess.
She never scolded him. Never demanded anything of him.
She simply obeyed and accepted him, wordlessly.
Her capacity for forgiveness was immense.
It was as if there was no darkness in her heart at all.
Sometimes, it made Roy wonder if she was even human.
"Don't you feel any resentment toward those magi?"
One day, Roy suddenly asked Jeanne on a whim.
Jeanne fell silent.
Ever since that day, to prove herself to Roy, she had continued undergoing the magi's experiments without pause.
Apparently, Jeanne was also a special test subject, treated with great caution by the magi.
She should have had her own private room, but she refused, insisting on coming to Roy every day—to read to him, listen to music with him, feed him, even help him with the bathroom.
But even the magi's "careful treatment" was far from anything a normal person could endure.
Jeanne didn't seem to be struggling for an answer. She thought for a long time before giving one that she found acceptable.
"I don't resent anything."
"Maybe normal people aren't like me. But I don't know—I'm not other people, so I can't say how they feel. But think about it—everyone's different, right? Maybe there are people like me in the world, people who don't hold grudges."
"Roy, you have every right to resent them. Your hatred is justified. I won't say anything against it, because that's only natural. Even if you seek revenge in the future, it would be completely reasonable."
"But I hope you remember—your life isn't just about hatred. You can also receive love from others. It's right to repay malice with malice, but don't forget to repay kindness with kindness too."
"Everyone in this world has the right to live freely. Everyone struggles to survive—you're no exception. There are people as miserable as you, maybe even worse. When you take your revenge, I hope you remember that… and spare the world. And others."
"Hmph!"
Roy snorted.
Her words made sense.
But he wasn't listening.
If anyone wanted him to take this advice, they'd have to drag him out of this hell first!
After Jeanne arrived, Roy finally regained a sense of time.
With her countless daily reminders, his emotions gradually stabilized.
Time passed, little by little, with Jeanne by his side.
The magi's experiments finally made a major breakthrough.
Roy was chosen as the only suitable candidate.
He didn't understand why, nor did he care—it wasn't like he could refuse.
One day, he was wheeled back into the lab.
The bandages were removed from his face, and a pair of eyeballs were placed into the hollow sockets that had been empty for a full year.
But his vision wouldn't return immediately. He was bandaged again and sent back to his room.
The next day.
Jeanne came again.
"You're here. Start reading from Chapter 18 today."
"...Okay."
Jeanne pulled up a chair and sat by Roy's bed.
"What's wrong?"
Roy turned toward her.
Blindness had sharpened his senses—his hearing was especially keen.
He detected something off in Jeanne's voice.
"Nothing."
Jeanne seemed to be steadying herself.
"I heard the experiments are almost over, and they've been very successful. The magi are thrilled… Do you know when your eyes will work again?"
"They said about twenty days. Apparently, these eyes are special."
"I see…"
Jeanne murmured as she picked up the book.
She flipped to the table of contents and checked the number of chapters.
Seventy-eight in total.
"Let's read more today—four chapters in one go!"
"Whatever."
Days passed.
Jeanne read four chapters to him every day.
But Roy's attention was no longer on the story.
His eyes were healing well—soon, he'd see light again. He loathed the magi with every fiber of his being, but getting his vision back was a blessing!
On the fifteenth day, Jeanne read the book's final chapters straight through to the end.
"Your eyes should be working soon, right?"
"Yeah, any day now!"
Roy's tone was noticeably brighter.
"Congratulations."
Jeanne offered her well-wishes.
Then she paused.
"And… I'm sorry."
She stood up.
Reached out and pulled Roy into a hug.
"Really… I'm so sorry."
I'm breaking my promise. I'm so sorry.
"What's wrong?"
Roy was confused.
Jeanne's embrace was warm.
But for some reason, he felt something wet against the top of his head.
Was she crying?
"It's nothing. Roy, remember—the most important thing is to think. Never stop thinking. As long as you keep thinking, you'll find the answer one day… I have to go now."
"See you tomorrow."
"..."
Jeanne didn't reply.
With a gentle wave of her hand, a pure light separated from her fingertips and melted into Roy's body.
The door closed behind her, and her footsteps faded away, oddly heavy.
Roy noticed something was off, but his mind was already consumed by the thought of seeing light again after so long. He didn't have room for anything else.
Later, he would regret not pressing her for answers.
Day sixteen.
Morning. The door opened.
"I am Sara, sent by Lord Uemon to attend to you."
A flat, emotionless female voice reached Roy's ears.
A homunculus.
Roy recognized it instantly.
He frowned.
"I never asked for a replacement. Where's Jeanne?"
"She's dead."
The icy words hit him like a hammer, ringing in his skull.
For a moment, he couldn't tell if he was dreaming or awake.
Dead?
How?
She was perfectly healthy! The magi had stopped their experiments on her because he was the successful subject now!
How could she be dead?
He lay in bed for days. Empty. Thoughtless.
Day twenty arrived.
Lord Uemon came.
With trembling hands, as though handling a sacred relic, he removed the bandages from Roy's face.
"Success! At last—success!"
Roy instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes from the light.
Before him, the armoured old man wept with joy.
Roy stared coldly at it all.
***
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