Love Letter From The Future

“Whenever I find myself in trouble, it should be a problem, and only then can Senior Ian….”

As Ceria continued her monologue, the light in her eyes grew dim. The sight of the beautiful girl repeating similar words like a cursed puppet was a chilling spectacle in itself.

It was around that time that I felt an unidentifiable sense of crisis.

It could be called a kind of intuition. A voice deep within me told me I had to stop her.

Instinctively, I called her name.

“Uh, um… That’s true, Ceria. Are you really okay?”

“Ah, ah, ah! Yes, yes! What was I saying?”

Only then did Ceria snap back to reality. Perhaps thinking she had committed a faux pas, she fidgeted and lowered her gaze.

It seemed she had done it without realizing it. Was she still half-asleep from her meditation?

There were times like that. The deeper one immerses in meditation, the harder it is to return to reality.

I shook my head as if it were nothing serious.

“Just, well. You were repeating what I said, right? Are you still not fully awake from meditation?”

“…Is that so?”

Ceria blushed again, perhaps embarrassed by her vacant past. Her emotions were quite evident today; usually, you had to look closely to read her feelings.

That must have been because our relationship had grown closer. I thought that as I patted her shoulder lightly.

“First things first, let’s swing a sword or something. I think I’m still a bit sleepy; I feel a yawn coming on…”

And, as if on cue, I let out a big yawn. I hoped Ceria would feel a little less embarrassed. Perhaps noticing my feelings, Ceria’s eyes, which had been gazing at me, glimmered softly.

She seemed to reluctantly open her mouth.

It was a warm voice. Though, I must add, for her, that was a qualifier.

“… Yes, Senior.”

After that, Ceria returned to her usual self.

The appearance she had just shown was as if it were a lie; she resumed her training with the solemn and cold expression she always wore.

Her sword technique was concise and firmly rooted in the basics, as always. That indicated she had trained for quite a long time; I too had been increasing my training hours, influenced by her recently.

Even so, our styles were entirely opposite. While I enjoyed trickery and unconventional moves, Ceria often adhered to the orthodox style.

Some might point out that as a weakness, but the orthodox method is known to compile techniques deemed most suitable over generations. Naturally, among swordsmen of similar caliber, those faithful to the orthodox style were quite strong.

Yet, it was not easy to stay true to the orthodox method. Everyone has their inclinations, and to follow the orthodox style completely, one had to entirely suppress those inclinations.

The simplest way to do that was what Ceria was demonstrating now.

Training until the muscles remember, until the techniques are engraved in the unconscious.

It was an incredible effort. Beyond seriousness, it felt almost desperate.

I suddenly recalled a conversation I had with Ceria not long ago.

On the day her mother was driven away, Ceria mentioned that she had been told these words by her half-sister.

“If you can’t prove your usefulness, you’ll end up like that.”

Watching her mother, who had been crying and reaching out to her daughter while being dragged away in misery, what must Ceria have thought?

It seemed clear that that day’s memory had instilled some emotion in Ceria. Perhaps it was because of that that she had been desperately wielding her sword until now.

At times, certain memories pin a person against the wall like a curse.

They ensnare one’s life from that day onward, making happiness a luxury. I simply wished for that day’s memory to not be such a wretched nightmare for Ceria.

However, no matter how I thought about it, I could only be worried. If a child experiences something like that, it’s almost certain to leave severe emotional scars.

Yet Ceria hadn’t spoken to me about it since then. So, I decided not to open my mouth unless the time was right.

To pry into someone’s intimate memories carries that much responsibility. I was still uncertain if I had the right to do so.

It was at that moment that I discovered another oddity about Ceria.

Ceria, holding her breath, infused her sword with aura, but the color was subtly different from before.

Previously, her aura had emanated a clear blue; now it had shifted to a slightly darker hue. Perhaps something akin to a brighter navy.

Aura symbolizes a swordsman’s mental image. Most swordsmen create mana cores in their bodies while simultaneously fixing their mental images, thus it is rare for their colors to change.

Even if it does change, it usually happens slowly over a long period. The color of the aura is akin to the manifestation of the mental image and is a crucial issue for swordsmen.

Later on, upon reaching the level known as Sword Expert, the characteristics of the aura vary, and that is dependent on the color.

Among swordsmen, this was referred to as “inherent color.” If there were thousands of Sword Experts, then the colors of their auras should number in the thousands as well. Consequently, the color of the aura is regarded similarly to a fingerprint for a swordsman.

However, since such an important color had changed, I couldn’t help but feel flustered. I immediately called out to Ceria.

“… Um, Ceria?”

“Yes, Senior!”

Ceria looked at me, tilting her head as if to ask what the problem was.

On her innocent face, there was not a hint of doubt or fear. That’s why I had to ask her with even more curiosity.

“Did your aura’s color change?”

“Ah….”

Ceria’s eyes widened as if she had just realized it, staring at the color of her own aura.

However, despite noticing such a significant change, Ceria’s reaction was exceedingly flat.

“… It seems so.”

“‘It seems so’ isn’t good enough! That’s a huge issue!”

I groaned internally, trying to deduce why Ceria’s inherent color had changed.

Was there anything that could be called a change in her recently? If her mental image had changed, there had to have been a decisive shift in her mental state. It wasn’t just a superficial level of consciousness—it had to reach deep into the unconscious.

It was merely a slight darkening of color, but even that required a shock that altered one’s way of thinking or values.

The significance of a mental image increases as one reaches higher levels. I had heard that Ceria had just barely stepped into the realm of Sword Expert, so a change in her mental image could influence her combat style and existing sword techniques in many ways.

That was why I felt so bewildered by Ceria’s reaction. Her sword technique remained the same, but only the color of her aura had changed?

However, Ceria smiled faintly, as if it were no big deal. This perplexed me even more.

It was the first time she had smiled like that.

“Don’t worry, Senior Ian. The immediate problem is nothing to be anxious about; I just recently became an Expert, so the characteristics of my aura haven’t fully awakened yet.”

When she beamed that smile with her beauty, it caused my heart to flutter a bit as a man. It felt like an ambush. So, I awkwardly averted my gaze and cleared my throat.

“Um, um… Still, we should be more worried since the color of your aura has changed. Wait, now that I think about it….”

Recent thoughts flashed through my mind.

Ceria, who was struggling to hold back tears.

Since her mother’s memory was trampled upon, perhaps her heart had changed in turn. Once I thought that, I felt my mood dampen a bit.

That could have been a painful probe into her wounds. Hesitantly, I finally opened my mouth with a sigh.

“Ceria, um… about your mother.”

Ceria’s eyes widened in surprise, as she’d likely not expected me to bring that up.

Her gaze soon fell to the ground. The strength drained from her body.

Her gaze was forlorn and lonely. She kept her lips tightly sealed.

I cautiously asked her again.

“… Are you okay?”

“I want to say yes, but…”

Ceria shook her head with a bitter expression.

That seemed just right; she had endured such a painful scar in her childhood. It would be a lie if she claimed she hadn’t been hurt at all. Recently, dozens or hundreds of people had rushed in to stir up that memory.

It would be strange if the scars didn’t ache anew. My own demeanor became heavy as well.

“Only to you, Ian Senior… no, actually, it’s tough.”

“When you learned swordsmanship….”

“That was after that day.”

As expected, it made sense that her aura’s color had changed. This issue was close to the root of why she wielded her sword. If that wound became inflamed, it was plausible.

I chose not to add that deduction. This was a time for Ceria to speak.

“Do you remember what my sister told me that day, Senior Ian?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded, as if exhaling a stuck breath.

“I remember what she said.”

“I pondered then. ‘Ah, I must prove my usefulness to survive.’ Being chased out of the house at that age, it feels like that, doesn’t it?”

My head bowed silently. In truth, I didn’t understand it well. Even though I had undergone harsh training since childhood, my family was basically harmonious.

Having grown up receiving love, I couldn’t fathom the feelings of someone unloved.

That scar, that emptiness, all the struggles of a girl who had to grit her teeth and survive at such a young age.

I didn’t know. Yet instead of answering, I chose silence. It demonstrated that I was attempting to empathize with her feelings as much as possible.

Ceria appeared busy shaping her memories of the past. Her sword gradually pointed toward the sky, reflecting the sunlight.

“With this sword, I’ve proven myself. I, who have no family name of ‘Yuridina,’ am nothing.”

“You’re a wonderful swordsman even without being a Yuridina.”

“Not as good as a wonderful swordsman from the Yuridina family.”

Through that exchange, I finally began to grasp a little of Ceria’s feelings.

My mouth opened again, and my voice had significantly settled down.

“So, you wanted to surpass your sister? To prove to your family that there’s no one better than you in the Yuridina line?”

“No, it’s a bit different.”

In saying that, many emotions danced in Ceria’s eyes.

A faint fear, anticipation, and resolution.

“I want to prove it to myself, not to my family.”

I maintained my silence, gazing at Ceria.

Why did the strong and haughty girl seem so weak and unstable?

It was like a glass ornament—beautiful and delicate, yet it felt as if it might shatter at the slightest touch.

“That I am no longer the brat who just watched helplessly while crying.”

That must be why.

It was the reason that I couldn’t help but be concerned about her.

Genuinely, I wished for her to achieve her ambitions.

That day’s training ended a little earlier than usual. However, Ceria and I conversed for quite a long time. As our training was wrapping up, warmth returned to Ceria’s eyes.

That was a relief. So, I didn’t realize.

That my provisional conclusion—that the reason her inherent color had changed was because of her mother’s memory—held some flaws.

If that were the case, it should have changed long ago during the harassment. If so, Ceria wouldn’t have acted like she had just realized it today.

If that were the case, there had to be another answer. From the day before until early this morning, there must have been some intense emotional change.

Yet, at that moment, I was unaware of that truth. And, likely, for quite some time afterward.

*

Upon exiting the forest with Ceria, the weather was sunny.

The sun, having now stretched, equally shared its golden blessings across the earth. I squinted slightly against the bright sunlight and shielded my face with my palm.

It was time to part ways with Ceria. I usually had breakfast with Celin or Reto.

However, today Ceria was hesitating, not leaving my side again. And the moment I took a step, I felt a pull, a force drawing me back.

My flustered gaze turned to Ceria. She was now clutching the hem of my clothing. As my expression showed confusion, Ceria seemed to realize it.

She jumped in surprise and let go of my sleeve. Her face began to blush.

“Th, th, that… I, Ian Senior. This is just that… uh… I mean…”

Seeing her stumbling over her words was quite adorable, causing me to chuckle softly.

“Why, do you want to stay together longer?”

“W, well…”

Ceria, flustered by my direct question and waving her hands, eventually seemed to give up, lowering her head. Her voice, tinged with embarrassment, slipped out.

“… Yes.”

It seemed Ceria had quite the sensitive personality. I had thought she’d be more individualistic due to spending a lot of time alone, but perhaps the opposite happened—now that she had made her first friend, being alone felt lonelier.

After all, there was no rule that I had to have breakfast with Celin or Reto. Although we implicitly gathered at certain times, it often happened that one would skip out due to a hangover.

So, having breakfast with Ceria wouldn’t be a bad idea, particularly since I was worried that my teasing of her had truly vanished.

Just as I was about to nod in agreement, at that moment.

“Ah, Ian… no, Clumsy Oppa!”

From a distance, someone waved and shouted that. With a bright smile and an energy that felt palpable from afar.

It was Celin. She was waving at me with a welcoming face, but then recalled yesterday’s events and pouted.

‘Clumsy Oppa,’ how rude! I gazed at Celin in disbelief.

Ceria’s body stiffened slightly at that moment. She seemed particularly uncomfortable with Celin and couldn’t fix her gaze on any one place.

Celin, too, realized this. Approaching with her typical bouncy step, she noticed who was beside me and scrunched her face.

Soon her expression turned frosty, and, as usual, she decided to ignore Ceria and smiled back at me.

That smile looked slightly annoyed.

She slapped my back hard, a sign of her excitement. The force was surprisingly strong, causing me to involuntarily release a short gasp.

“Cough, cough! Hey, hey, Celin…!”

“What a coincidence, huh? Just a coincidence, Ian Oppa. You’re going to have breakfast now, right?”

I paused, unsure how to respond to her. I had intended to, but I was just about to invite Ceria to breakfast.

However, given that the situation had unfolded like this, it felt awkward to encourage Ceria—who clearly was showing discomfort.

Ceria’s face had grown tense. After all, she saw that Celin felt quite disdainful, and as someone who wasn’t adept at socializing, she likely felt awkward about the distances. She had too many intersections with us to ignore each other.

Ultimately, I decided to make Ceria a bit more comfortable. I sighed as a sign of surrender.

“… Well, that’s true.”

“Okay, then let’s hurry up~ Half of your life belongs to me, Ian Oppa!”

What does that even mean? Today, I felt a sense of discomfort with Celin’s bizarre word choices, but I ended up offering a wry smile and followed her as she dragged me along.

Yeah, I was going to do that.

Unless, once again, I felt a tug on my sleeve.

The source of that force was Ceria.

Perhaps sensing this, Celin came to a halt. Her tawny eyes turned toward the back. There stood Ceria, gripping my clothing.

She wasn’t the same as before, tensed up and hesitating nervously around Celin. Whatever emotional change had happened in the meantime, her eyes were calm enough to feel icy.

Though her body still trembled a little.

The blue-eyed girl and the tawny-eyed girl clashed for the first time today.

And in that moment, it felt as if the surrounding temperature dropped by several degrees.

At least, that’s how it felt to me.

There was an air of impending turmoil.

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