Chapter 32: Loneliness Cannot Be Cured Even By Destroying Humanity

Ever since that day when the guild froze over from the Saint’s “I will monopolize him” declaration, the environment around me had descended even further into absolute chaos.

The three heroines keep each other in check, and the Saint, wielding her ultimate shield of “unconditional goodwill,” refuses to take a single step back.

As this four-way cold war continued, I somehow managed to handle my desk duties despite carrying a heavy load of mental fatigue.

Then, early one afternoon.

From the bottom of the “Suggestion Box” in the corner of the guild, I found a familiar jet-black envelope.

A red wax seal. Addressed to: “The Person in Charge of the Mental Health Consultation Desk.”

It was the third letter from that “Anonymous Client.”

“I wonder if they were able to compromise…”

I broke the seal with a paper knife and pulled out the contents.

Last time, I had replied that “even with incompatible individuals, it’s possible to compromise if you find a common goal.” This seemed to be a report on those results.

I quietly followed the beautiful handwriting with my eyes.

Dear Person in Charge of the Mental Health Consultation Desk,

Regarding the “compromise through a common goal” you advised, after much deliberation, I attempted to engage in dialogue.

However, the results were disastrous.

The divide between us is simply too deep. My words were twisted, and it only ended up inviting further terror and rejection.

To be understood by no one. To be connected to no one. Because I tried to compromise, I was made painfully aware that my existence is definitely a “foreign object.”

This absolute loneliness only deepens the longer I live.

I ask you once again.

If I were to erase this world that rejects me completely, would this freezing loneliness vanish as well? What are your thoughts?

…Heavy.

This was different from the previous nuance of “it’s a pain, so I’ll destroy it.”

What was acutely transmitted through the text was an overwhelming “loneliness” and “despair” at being understood by no one.

Compromising with someone you’re incompatible with is no easy task.

Being rejected hurts far more deeply than before. The urge to just destroy everything because you can’t bear that pain is definitely not uncommon, even in a clinical setting.

I pulled out a fresh sheet of stationery and immediately set my pen racing.

I have indeed received your letter.

I offer my sincere respect for your courage in attempting to compromise, and my sympathies for the pain of your rejection.

However, even if you erase everything, that freezing loneliness of yours will not vanish.

All that will remain after destroying everything is an eternal, “perfect loneliness” where no one’s voice can reach you.

Loneliness cannot be cured even if you destroy humanity (the other party).

It may be painful, but before you make an irreversible decision, would you please let me listen to the pain of that desperate loneliness just a little bit more?

While letting the ink dry, I let out a small sigh.

“Nagi-sama. …Are you exchanging letters with that person again?”

Suddenly, a warm voice showered down from behind me.

Before I knew it, Serafina was standing behind me, gently draping a blanket of the finest texture over my shoulders.

“Serafina-san. …Yes, it’s a rather serious consultation.”

“That prank letter where they are debating whether or not to destroy humanity, yes? You really do pour your heart out even for a faceless stranger who might be a madman, Nagi-sama.”

She quietly looked down at the reply I had written.

Her eyes harbored not exasperation, but a terribly acute pain.

“You are far too self-sacrificingly sincere toward everyone. That is why… You break so easily.”

Serafina stepped around to my side and gently placed a cup of warm herbal tea on my desk.

Then, she took out a soft handkerchief and gently, with true affection, wiped at the dark circles under my eyes.

“Now, please suspend your duties for a moment and drink some warm tea. Your shoulders seem a bit stiff as well.”

“Ah, no, I can manage it myself—”

“I will not allow it. You are far too oblivious to your own limits, Nagi-sama.”

Her slender white fingertips touched the nape of my neck, and the pale light of Heal poured into me.

Forced fatigue recovery. Inescapable over-care born of absolute goodwill.

From far away at the counter, I could hear Lise and the others making a racket: “That Saint is clinging to Nagi again!” “Hey, get out of the way!” “Stealing a march on us is unforgivable!”

Caught between the surging pressure of her goodwill and the uproar of the heroines, I felt a sharp, twisting pain in my stomach.

“Haha… It’s alright, Serafina-san. I’m completely fine, really. The counter is just a little lively—”

The moment I flashed my usual “customer service smile” to avoid making waves, it happened.

Serafina’s hand stopped dead.

“…Nagi-sama.”

She gently cupped my face with both hands and peered straight into my eyes.

“You just smiled to cover it up, didn’t you?”

“Eh?”

“Pushing yourself. Killing your own pain. You made an empty smile so that we wouldn’t worry.”

My heart gave a heavy ba-dump.

Her words were the same ones I had spoken to her on the day of the festival, when I stopped her from continuously casting healing magic.

“Your eyes are not smiling in the slightest. You are merely trying to execute the function of ‘being a counselor.’ …Just like the old me.”

Serafina’s silver eyes narrowed, as if seeing right through to the very depths of my heart.

She was no longer an empty machine.

Having found a powerful target for her dependency (an object of salvation) in me, she had become capable of reading the subtleties of others’ hearts with terrifying accuracy.

“No, I just…”

“You do not have to hide it. Nagi-sama, you are at your limit.”

Wearing a smile full of motherly affection, Serafina gently pulled my head into her bountiful chest.

I couldn’t resist. It was a violence far too gentle and sweet.

“I will heal everything for you. You no longer have to listen to anyone’s words. You no longer have to carry anyone’s pain. …You simply need to rest within my arms.”

Her sweet voice whispered right against my ear.

I could feel my boundaries as a clinical psychologist crumbling noisily under the weight of her bottomless “maternal instinct” and “overprotectiveness.”

The therapist was right on the verge of becoming the patient.