Please Don’t Die, My Lady

Chapter 40

The long night finally passed, and morning arrived.

It was only then that Ariana’s rationality seemed to return, leaving her trembling uncontrollably.

She kept apologizing, saying she’d lost her mind, calling herself insane.

She cried so much that just hugging and consoling her became a chore.

I kept telling her it was fine.

I tried to get up to put my clothes back on, but my body refused to cooperate. My waist wouldn’t hold any strength.

I tried ignoring it for a while, but my body ached.

A fever seemed to be setting in as my head throbbed and my mind clouded.

Every muscle in my body screamed after being tossed around all night.

Cold, hot, and painful.

It felt like my body was about to succumb to a severe illness.

Well, considering I’d essentially become a sex toy, it wasn’t surprising.

I personally prefer gentler treatment, but last night was rough.

Not that I had much room to complain since I initiated it.

Giving up, I started stroking her back with my bare hand, still unclothed.

“It’s fine, Ariana.

I gave you permission, didn’t I? It’s not your fault.”

“I-I’ll never… sob, do this again… sniff… even if you tempt me… hic, I’m so sorry…”

She promised there wouldn’t be a next time.

I just smiled at her.

I know what kind of creature humans are.

Humans can’t fully suppress their desires.

If it had been her first experience, maybe. But after succumbing to those desires and fully indulging in them?

Sure, she could say that now, but could she really promise it wouldn’t happen again?

I highly doubted it.

“It’s fine if you give in.

Honestly, I didn’t mind.

I guess my preferences haven’t changed—I still prefer women over men. Much more.”

It had been painful and scary at times, but overall, it was tolerable.

Physical pleasure is still pleasure, after all.

And Ariana is… well, she’s beautiful.

If I had my old body back in my homeland, she’d have been way out of my league.

“‘Didn’t mind’…? What…?”

“What else? I’m a person too, you know.

I have sexual desires. If I don’t release them, they build up.

I’ve gone without for so long because I don’t like the idea of it, so maybe I was starving for it more than most.”

“N-No, not that… What do you mean, you prefer women…?”

Her tears abruptly stopped, and she looked at me with a mix of confusion and panic. I tilted my head, then let out a small “Ah.”

Of course, it’d be an important issue for her.

But was there really a need to ask?

The fact that I initiated it should’ve made my preferences obvious.

Did she seriously think I forced myself to go through with it, hence her excessive guilt?

…If you’d been a man, Ariana, I wouldn’t even have tried.

I might’ve been crazy, but I wasn’t that crazy.

Still, if she wanted an answer, I could give her one.

“I’m a lesbian too.”

“…Oh.”

Ariana’s face lit up instantly.

I could easily tell what she was thinking.

I could’ve corrected her, but I didn’t feel the need to.

“From that perspective, your technique wasn’t bad, Ariana.

A little rough, but that’s partly my fault for riling you up.”

“What kind of… That’s not comforting at all…”

“Ahaha, really?”

Her mood seemed lighter, though.

I doubt anyone would be upset to hear their first sexual partner say it wasn’t bad.

She seemed adequately placated, and I smiled faintly.

The truth is, I didn’t think it was bad either.

The process was questionable, but the result?

The stimulation had served its purpose—it shook my spirit, which had been wasting away.

Even though I hadn’t slept at all, I felt more mentally energized than I had in days.

That alone made it worth it.

You could call it a different kind of self-harm, sure.

Not that I enjoy self-harm—I don’t.

It’s just that it’s all I have.

I still hate pain.

So doesn’t it make sense to try replacing it with something else, even if just a little?

This is fine.

It’s helped me hold on a little longer.

That’s enough for me.

After about an hour, my fever worsened, and I became bedridden.

My chronic lung condition flared up again, and for the next week, I was in and out of a critical state.

While nursing me back to health, Ariana began blaming herself again.

Once I recovered, however, it was as if she was making up for lost time—she was rougher than ever.

I knew it would happen.

Sometimes, I think humans’ brains might as well be in their lower halves.

Even if it’s disgusting, I won’t blame you.

It’s instinct, after all.

If anyone’s at fault, it’s me for being too weak to resist you.

From that day on, my life became a cycle of falling ill and being ravaged every few days.

At first, Ariana felt guilty. But when I didn’t say anything, she began to accept this routine as normal.

Maybe she even thinks I’m enjoying it.

You’ve been fooled, Ariana.

Sure, I said I’m a lesbian, but I never said I liked you.

For someone I always thought was so mature, it turns out you’re surprisingly simple-minded.

Seeing you act your age for once, even as I was pinned beneath you, made it hard not to laugh.

Though your actions are anything but childlike.

You’re such a beast that after every session, I’m left completely drained.

“Haha.”

Still, it’s bearable.

Not enjoyable, but not awful either.

It’s hard, painful, exhausting, and it feels like I’m dying.

But it’s still better than doing nothing.

It’s enough to live on.

“Remia… do you like it?”

“Maybe…”

It’s enough to live on.

Really.

***

In Ariana’s room, the bed was positioned near the window.

At night, I would lean against it and gaze at the night sky.

Not for any particular reason.

Being confined to the room left me with nothing to do, so stargazing became the only tolerable activity I could find.

It almost made me feel like the tragic heroine of a story.

Like someone trapped in a tower, left too long for the night sky.

If I were the protagonist, my story would likely end with me throwing myself from the tower under the guise of “starting a journey.”

Though “longing” feels too glamorous a word, it had become a small hobby of mine, one I found solace in.

Over time, it became such a routine that I could now tell the date just by observing the moon’s phases.

Even this foolish brain of mine managed to retain something through repetition.

It was surprising to realize I still had the potential for growth.

That night, as I gazed at the usual sky, Ariana sat beside me and struck up a conversation.

“Do you like stars?”

“If I had to say, I don’t.”

“Really? I thought you might since you’re always looking at them every night.

Oh, is it just because there’s nothing else to see…?”

She hit the nail on the head, and I shrank back slightly.

She was right; there wasn’t anything else to look at.

But it wasn’t the stars I liked.

I liked the moon.

Not the stars, those grotesque shards of glass embedded in the black canvas.

“…It’s not that.

I was just looking at the moon.”

“The moon…?

But tonight, there isn’t one.”

I glanced back at the sky.

Sure enough, there were only countless stars twinkling as if they might spill out of the heavens.

No matter how hard I searched, the moon was nowhere to be seen.

Of course not—tonight was the new moon.

It wasn’t as if I had been hallucinating.

I had merely been staring at the empty space where the moon usually hung.

“The visible moon is something you can see every night to the point of boredom, right?

So, I figured, maybe the unseen moon holds more value. Just a silly thought.”

“I see… I misunderstood.”

“It’s an understandable mistake.

The stars do look particularly beautiful tonight.”

“…That’s true. That’s why I thought you might be watching them.

On nights without the moon, the stars shine the brightest.”

She was right. Tonight, the stars were especially brilliant.

Staring at the crowded sky, so full of stars it felt like they might fall, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed despite my dislike of them.

Even in my homeland, you wouldn’t see a view like this, even in the countryside.

Although the sky looks the same every night, tonight’s view felt more poignant—perhaps because the moon wasn’t there.

The moon here was so large and bright that it swallowed up many of the faint stars nearby.

And yet, during the new moon, it was completely overshadowed by the sun, which was larger and brighter still.

A fitting bit of karmic irony.

“You’re right. Usually, there are so many stars hidden by the moon’s light.

It’s incredible how many it conceals just to shine alone.”

Perhaps that’s why my favorite phases of the moon are the full moon and the new moon.

One is when the moon is fully illuminated.

The other is when it vanishes entirely.

It might seem ironic, but their stark opposition makes them more alike.

Even at their brightest or darkest, they fail to coexist with the stars around them.

A being whose disappearance benefits everyone—it’s both sad and laughable.

Still, I can’t help but envy it.

The moon always has something with it, whether it overshadows or is overshadowed.

It’s never truly alone in the night sky.

“…I don’t know. If I were the moon, I think I’d feel lonely.

To know that the things lying dormant in my presence only come alive when I’m gone…

What’s that supposed to mean? It’s almost like being shunned.”

“I think I’d like it.

Even at its brightest, the moon still has a few truly brilliant stars by its side.

Isn’t it better to have a handful of close companions than to maintain shallow ties with thousands?”

“Maybe… you’re right.”

Ariana nodded faintly, pressing her temples as if she had a headache.

She seemed confused.

I hadn’t expected her to think about it so seriously.

“Still, comparing the moon to people is difficult.

Its scale is too grand, and it makes everything seem similar.”

“…True. It’s ultimately a false comparison.

After all, the moon always has stars by its side.”

Though it’s a little pathetic to admit, I’ve occasionally felt jealous of the moon.

Drunk on late nights, I would feel a sense of camaraderie with it—only to feel betrayed when I saw the stars lingering nearby.

Perhaps I watch the moon every night because I project onto it.

With no friends or family of my own, I might be treating the moon as my companion.

A slightly more accomplished friend who stirs my envy.

“A handful of companions is more than enough for a person.

Comparing having none to having thousands is an entirely different matter.”

Amused by my own thoughts, I chuckled softly, but Ariana’s words piqued my interest. I turned to her.

None or thousands.

That is an interesting question.

Far more worth pondering than the earlier one.

I mulled it over briefly, then grew curious.

Which would Ariana choose?

“…What about you, Ariana?”

“Me?”

“The thing you just mentioned—none or thousands.

If you had to pick one, which would it be?”

“Oh. I guess… Hmm.”

After a brief moment of thought, she answered.

“Thousands are far too many.

I’d rather live alone.”

It wasn’t a surprising answer, but it did catch me off guard.

I’d expected someone like Ariana to prefer living among people.

Then again, it was unfair to call her “normal.”

She had spent her life forcibly changing masks, surviving in the arms of various hosts. If anything, liking people would’ve been stranger.

“What about none versus a handful?”

“Oh, continuing the game, huh? In that case…”

This time, she deliberated longer, her expression more thoughtful.

When she answered, her voice carried a quiet conviction.

“I’d still prefer to live alone.

I guess I really don’t like people.”

I was a little surprised.

Her misanthropy ran deeper than I’d expected.

Could it be that she liked me because of a sense of kinship?

Our similarities seem to crop up in the strangest places.

I hesitated before asking one last question.

If her answer to this was the same as mine, I might start seeing her differently.

“And… none versus just one?”

“That one…”

There was no hesitation.

With a picture-perfect smile, she met my gaze and spoke with quiet intensity.

“If that one is someone I love, I’d want to live with them.”

There was no need for her to explain who that “one” was.

Her eyes, her body, and her past actions had already made it clear.

Thank goodness.

At least in this, we’re different.

“I see.”

A face flashed in my mind.

Unfortunately for Ariana, it wasn’t hers.

“So do I.”

I wondered when I would finally leave this place.

Just a moment ago, the star-filled sky had seemed beautiful.

Now, it felt completely empty.