Ch.17Sleeping Together (3)

*

Of course, there was no one in this forest except her and me.

The situation: moaning sounds coming from the room of the woman I was living with.

What should a physically fit man in his twenties do in this situation?

Should I pretend not to hear because it would be embarrassing?

Or… should I ask her to be a bit quieter?

If we had feelings for each other, it might be good to go in and check.

However, unfortunately, she and I were not lovers, not even close to that.

I couldn’t hide my confusion at the sudden moaning sounds coming from the room, and at the same time, I began to wonder what kind of relationship she and I actually had.

She was my benefactor, and I was her housemate.

I had been infected by the curse left by the Demon King through her, and thus we both shared the same curse.

We were in a relationship where we had no choice but to rely on each other for the rest of our lives.

Of course, we weren’t lovers or anything romantic.

From the beginning, she was too remarkable a person for such a relationship, so I didn’t dare look at Miss Silvia that way.

But how did she think of me?

I recalled the scene where she buried her nose in my blanket and smelled it, and yesterday when she climbed on top of me and greedily licked at my scent.

I, a bottom-dwelling man with nothing to my name and now without even a family, didn’t dare set my sights on her.

But what if she had feelings for me?

Suddenly, my heart began to pound loudly.

It was like a drum beating directly inside my eardrums, far more intense and noisy than the sounds of insects or hooting owls.

Miss Silvia? Interested in me?

Could it be?

No matter how lonely she was, would she… comfort herself in a house where she lived with a man she didn’t like?

Ignoring my flushed face, I focused on the moaning sounds coming from the room for a long time, just swallowing hard repeatedly.

Miss Silvia’s pained sounds were soft and slow, but they were clearly continuing without interruption.

Although there wasn’t a clock anywhere in this cabin, I could tell without looking at one that her moaning had been going on for a very long and extended period.

Um… she must have been alone for a long time, so… things must have built up.

Of course, I knew nothing about female self-comfort, but somehow, it was lasting much longer than my humble imagination had expected.

She has incredible endurance.

Well, she is a hero, so she must have extraordinary strength too.

In the middle of these foolish thoughts, I suddenly realized something and bolted upright.

Idiot. Are you in your right mind?

Moaning sounds continuing for this long is clearly abnormal.

Could something be wrong with Miss Silvia’s body?

Could she be sick with something?

Common sense should have made me consider whether she might be in pain when hearing such moaning sounds.

Scolding myself for my pathetic and shallow thoughts, I slowly got out of bed and approached Miss Silvia’s room.

As I reached Miss Silvia’s door, I could more clearly tell that these moans were indeed coming from her.

Now that I was facing the door, I hesitated to open it.

This would be my first time entering her room, and if she wasn’t sick but was just comforting herself as I had imagined…

It was difficult to gauge what would happen afterward.

It would certainly be far more awkward and suffocating than the few uncomfortable dinner times we had experienced so far.

After deliberating, I decided to open the door just slightly to peek inside.

If she was indeed in pain, I would enter the room; if not, I would quietly leave.

A perfect plan.

I opened the door very carefully.

I repeatedly assured myself that I was not opening it to see her in a compromising state.

Slowly turning the doorknob, the wooden door opened quietly without making a sound.

I squeezed my head through the small gap and carefully looked inside.

It was hard to see inside the room in the dark night.

All I could see was her large bed illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window.

It felt as if the light was only illuminating Miss Silvia lying on the bed.

“… What is that?”

I burst through the door and approached Miss Silvia.

“Miss Silvia!”

“Hnngh, urgh, aaurgh!”

Miss Silvia was strangling herself with her own hands.

*

Before I could even comprehend the scene unfolding before my eyes, I rushed to Miss Silvia and tried to remove her hands that were tightly gripping her neck.

Her face, illuminated by the moonlight, was so red it appeared almost purple.

No matter how much strength I used, it was impossible for me to remove her arms.

I gritted my teeth and forcibly pried away one pinky finger that was squeezing her neck.

“Eek!”

As I pulled her pinky finger back with force, her hand slipped away from her neck, perhaps to avoid having it broken.

I pinned that hand down with my knee, then straddled her upper body and removed the other hand in the same way.

Again, she resisted with fierce strength, but eventually her remaining hand fell away from her neck.

Clear handprints remained on her neck.

Only after pinning one hand with my knee and the other with both my hands did she gradually stop resisting.

I said, breathing heavily:

“…Haa, Miss Silvia… What on earth,”

I couldn’t finish my sentence and closed my mouth.

Surprisingly, Miss Silvia was still sound asleep.

Her brow was deeply furrowed and her expression full of agony, but she was clearly sleeping through all this commotion.

So, just now, had she been strangling herself in her sleep?

Why on earth?

“… What kind of sleeptalking is this? Good heavens.”

Miss Silvia was breathing evenly as if nothing had happened.

However, the clear handprints on her neck were definite proof that what had just happened was neither my illusion nor hallucination.

Though she was no longer making the painful moans she had made while strangling herself, she was still emitting faint groaning sounds.

That was the sound I had heard while lying in bed.

“…What kind of dream is she having?”

As the tension eased, I was trying to calm my startled heart and regulate my breathing.

Then, suddenly feeling something strange, I looked at her face positioned between my thighs.

Only then did I realize what I was doing.

A man sitting astride a sleeping woman’s chest.

My legs were on either side of her, my groin almost touching her mouth.

It was a position that looked several times more dangerous than when she had climbed on top of me that morning.

“… No, this isn’t what it looks like.”

Watching her hands tensely to see if she might strangle herself again, I slowly removed my knee that had been pinning her hand.

Then I got off her, careful not to wake her.

It was also strange that she hadn’t woken up despite all this commotion.

“Miss Silvia… You’re not awake, are you?”

There was no answer.

Only regular, slow breathing continued.

I carefully approached her.

Her face—no, her entire body—was soaked with cold sweat, and her pained expression was contorting moment by moment.

Her regular, even breathing occasionally hitched with groans.

She seemed to be suffering from a terrible nightmare.

“…”

I carefully took Miss Silvia’s twitching hand.

It felt as if my hand fit perfectly into hers, like a puzzle piece.

She unconsciously squeezed my hand in her sleep.

The hard calluses densely packed on the fleshy part of her palm dug into my soft hand.

With my remaining hand, I took out a small cloth from my pocket and carefully wiped the beads of sweat on her face.

She was sweating so much that the cloth piece quickly became soaked.

I was concerned she might become dehydrated just from the amount of sweat she was losing while sleeping.

“What kind of dream are you having?”

Perhaps she had asked me to sleep with her because she wanted help with these nightmares.

I looked down at her with that thought.

Could sleepwalking cause suicidal impulses?

It was something I had never heard of before.

But I couldn’t ignore what I had just witnessed with my own eyes.

What if I had to spend four years alone, trapped in a place with no one else?

I might go insane.

And what if I had to suffer alone in a place with no one else, unable to leave by my own will despite my suffering?

I couldn’t bear it without going mad.

It would be difficult to overcome the urge to die every night.

With a heavy heart, I gently touched the handprints on her neck.

She failed because the curse prevents her from dying.

Judging by the marks, she had been strangling herself with enough force to break her neck bones before suffocation if she had been an ordinary person.

I had heard of people hanging themselves with rope, but never of someone strangling themselves with their own hands until death.

Perhaps it was because I had told her that her journey had failed.

Could she be feeling guilty enough to want to die because of my venting?

I cried as I realized how pathetic and worthless a human being I was.

“…I’m sorry, Miss Silvia…”

How wretched I am.

How ungrateful.

She saved the world and then voluntarily confined herself to this solitude for a better world, and I drove her to this state just because she made a few misinformed comments due to her isolation from worldly affairs?

Idiot.

“I’m sorry… truly.”

I apologized, pressing my forehead against her hand.

As my face touched the sheet, I could feel that even her bedding was completely damp.

Wondering if she might be feeling hot, I slowly lifted the blanket she had half-covered herself with.

Her thin nightgown, which I had never seen before, was completely soaked with sweat and clinging to her body.

It was as if she had jumped into a river while wearing her nightgown.

Since she usually wore robes that covered her entire body even after revealing her face, this was the first time I had seen her body contours so clearly.

That day when I first saw her face,

The image of her naked body that I had accidentally seen while following Miss Silvia to the river flashed through my mind.

I had been so surprised then that I quickly looked away and didn’t see much, but seeing her body like this now felt somehow fresh yet also quite sensual.

Her waist was firm yet slender, and her hips looked quite round and large.

Her equally full breasts rose and fell with her breathing, swaying slightly, and occasionally bouncing from side to side when she moaned and moved her body—a sight that was incredibly captivating.

And throughout this entire spectacle, Miss Silvia’s scent was overwhelmingly present.

I wiped my tears and said:

“Still, I don’t think I can sleep with you. It’s not because of you, but because of me. I keep having inappropriate thoughts.”

I was already having trouble sleeping, and now I was completely awake due to the shock.

I stayed by Miss Silvia’s side, holding her hand until dawn.

I was afraid she might strangle herself again if I left.

As dawn slowly approached, I carefully removed her hand and got up.

She might be startled if I were there when she opened her eyes.

With that thought, I quietly left her room.

Her door closed as silently as it had opened.

“…Phew,”

I let out a small sigh and muttered:

“My sleep schedule is completely reversed now,”

At that time, I didn’t notice.

That her expression had already become peaceful, and the moaning had stopped.

*

Silvia woke up a little later than usual that morning.

That in itself was already strange to her.

On days when she had nightmares, she invariably woke up earlier than usual, but today she had overslept?

Moreover, her body felt unusually refreshed for having had a nightmare.

Normally, after a nightmare, her entire body would be tense even while sleeping, so it was normal to wake up feeling stiff all over.

“…What’s going on? Could it be I didn’t have a nightmare?”

She slowly felt her body.

It was slightly dry, but still damp.

Next, she touched her neck.

Swollen handprints the size of her fingers remained.

“No, I definitely had one.”

But why did she feel so refreshed and clear-headed today?

And it wasn’t just that she felt refreshed.

There was a lingering emptiness at her fingertips, as if she had lost a sword she had carried her entire life.

She wondered about this feeling as she slowly removed her nightgown, now dry from sweat.

The soaked garment fell heavily to the floor below her legs.

After changing into a loose robe, she slowly opened the door and stepped out.

“Ah, you’re awake?”

As soon as she left the room, Ash greeted her cheerfully.

Ah, Ash.

You woke up early today.

Thinking that, she looked at his face, and at that moment:

“…Ah,”

“…Miss Silvia?”

“It was you.”

“…Pardon?”

She could understand everything.

That he had taken care of her during the night.

She couldn’t understand how she knew, but she knew it clearly.

The inexplicable sense of loss that had lingered at her fingertips.

That sense of loss disappeared like melting snow the moment she saw his face.

It was a sensation close to an instinctive realization.

“Why did you leave instead of sleeping with me?”

“…What?”

Ash looked at Silvia with a bewildered expression.

“Ah, that… hehe, so you were awake then?”

“…”

Silvia grabbed Ash’s hand forcefully.

“Waah!”

And pulled him into her embrace.

It felt like being covered with warm fur after lying naked and collapsed on the street.

Warmth, or rather, the absence of that sense of loss, filled her entire body.

“…Um, Miss Silvia?”

“…”

Ah, I see.

Silvia finally realized.

The sensation she felt as soon as she touched his body—like a large stone embedded in her heart melting away without a trace.

That stone’s name was loneliness.

“Ash.”

It wasn’t because of the curse that she lived with him.

If she had merely been concerned about the curse, she could have fixed up one of the still usable log cabins in the village ruins for him to live in.

It wasn’t because she was worried about his back that she wanted to sleep together.

There were ways to make comfortable bedding besides a bed.

Right now, there were even things like rocking chairs in the backyard.

So Silvia finally realized her own feelings.

“You can’t go anywhere now.”

“…Excuse me? I, I already know that?”

She didn’t want to return to that solitude ever again.

She didn’t want to go back to that time when there was no one to talk to, no one to answer, no one to look at her, no one to comfort her, no one to smile at her.

The sense of loss that had lingered at her fingertips now felt terrible.

She hugged Ash, whom she held in her arms, even tighter.

“Miss, Miss Silvia?”

The quiet chill in her red eyes gradually began to swirl.