WTBFCY Chapter 1

Prologue

Even moving a single finger took everything he had.

Not a figure of speech—both his arms, every bone from wrist to shoulder, were crushed. He knew they would heal in time. He noted this and set it aside as non-urgent. The immediate problem was that he had no strength left to hold himself upright, and so he remained where he was, on the ground.

Tap. Tip-tap. Very fine raindrops began to fall, one or two at a time.

He lay there staring blankly upward, watching the rain catch the lamplight and draw white afterimages against the dark—and it occurred to him, at some point, that he seemed to keep surviving near-death situations lately.

Noah closed his eyes slowly and opened them again, then turned his head to look in the direction where Regina had been standing. He had confirmed her safety up to the last moment. He checked again anyway.

"……?"

She wasn't there.

She had definitely been holding the black cat, watching him with anxious eyes—so where had she gone? He turned to find her, and beyond the lamppost he saw Regina's retreating figure, already running.

"……"

She was running as though fleeing. Urgently. He watched this and blinked, slow.

'Just go next time.'

He had said that—he distinctly remembered saying it.

'...If I get hurt and lose consciousness like this time, just run.'

He had said it. He hadn't expected her to actually do it the first chance she got, without looking back once.

He was briefly flustered and tried to push himself up. His crushed wrist hit the ground and buckled under him.

"Nghh!"

Thud.

He sprawled there at a wretched angle, his face pressed to the pavement in a truly unsightly heap. A moment later, he let out a dry, hollow laugh.

It was the sound of a man emptied out.

'...Ah. Right.'

Come to think of it, she had told him enough times to burst his eardrums—that she would run the first chance she got. So this was not new.

It made sense that she ran. Running from a natural predator to survive was instinct. Noah understood that. Hadn't he mocked her himself, once, when she'd given up running?

Understanding something and wishing it were different were two separate things. He wanted to see her go, at least.

Noah managed to pull himself upright and leaned against the lamppost at his back. Even that much left him breathless, his vision spinning.

He forced open eyes that kept threatening to close and watched her—already so far away, long black hair streaming behind her.

"……"

Regina. She was too far to hear him, even if he called.

He traced the outline of her shrinking figure with his immobile fingers.

If she heard his voice, she would stop. She would turn back and look at him—injured, unable to move—and hesitate, not knowing what to do, and then come back to him sobbing, like she had before. He knew that. So he didn't call.

Maybe Noah was the one who had truly wanted her to run.

His strength gave out. He closed his eyes, and pitch-black darkness swept in.

Even in the dark, a running figure seemed to be drawn there. He watched it without looking away.

Regina.

Regina.

He called her name, inwardly, again and again.

"Noah! Pull yourself together—Noah!"

Urgent hands tapping his cheek, weakly. Without meaning to, his eyes opened to a crack. Regina was looking down at him.

Her face was drenched in tears. She was calling his name desperately. Soaked through in the rain, her face paler than his, she was shaking him.

"Noah! Can you hear me?"

'Why did you come back?' He was certain he had asked it aloud. No sound came out.

He was struggling to blink, his vision smearing at the edges, when she looked down at him and said:

"Noah, I called for help. They'll be here soon—please, try to stay awake!"

The violet eyes watching him were filled with fear. Her hands were trembling. The tears running down Regina's cheeks mixed with the cold rain and fell endlessly onto his face, and each time they landed, Noah felt as though something had burned him.

"Hkk— please... please don't die, Noah...!"

The rain had grown heavier without his noticing.

Noah's body temperature was dropping fast. Realizing this, Regina pulled his head urgently to her.

But she was also soaked through and going pale with cold, and so it wasn't much help. More distraught for it, she wiped the cold moisture from his face again and again with hands shaking from anxiety.

"Hhh—! What do I do—his body is too cold."

Noah looked up at her holding him, and slowly raised his hand toward her.

His fingertips touched her black hair, wet with rain.

His eyes burned as though with fever. Instead of closing them, he watched her trembling shoulders as she wept.

Then the falling rain rippled—suddenly—and wound itself around his fingers along with her hair. At the same moment, everything in his field of vision expanded and contracted, endlessly shifting in form.

In the spinning world, only she and he remained clear.

He understood, belatedly, amid that impossible spiral.

'Ah. This is a dream.'

It seemed he was dreaming of her coming back.

Dreaming something like this—absurd, he thought. And yet. Not unpleasant.

'Well then. If it was only a dream.'

Noah raised his hand and cupped the back of her head gently. At his sudden touch, she leaned forward, and her wet hair fell from her shoulder across his ear.

He watched the violet eyes, now so close, waver—and pressed his lips briefly against the red lips before him.

Since it was only a dream.

The lips that met trembled, slightly.

Staring at her, Noah slowly closed his eyes.

Regina.

Chapter 1

Hhk—!!

Like surfacing from underwater—air rushed into her throat all at once and her lungs cracked open.

Regina dragged in the breath she'd been holding with everything she had and her eyes snapped open.

"Kk—hhk! Khk, khk!"

The pain was sharp enough to taste blood at the tip of her tongue, but breathing was more urgent. She coughed hard and her throat burned like it was tearing—she grabbed it with both hands.

Hh. Hhk.

When she calmed down enough to blink, a tear that had pooled at the corner of her eye fell with a soft tuk.

She ran a hand over her face. Her palm came away soaked in cold sweat.

Khk... "Where is this?"

She looked around through the last of the coughing. Her blurred vision gradually sharpened.

A broken window. A tilted carriage door. And inside it, herself—crumpled as though folded in half.

Only then did Regina remember. On the return journey, one of the rear wheels had suddenly come loose and the carriage had overturned.

The kwoong of the floor dropping, the hard impact of her head against the window—she must have lost consciousness from that.

She winced sharply at the throbbing ache through her whole body.

"Ow, ow—there isn't a single spot that doesn't hurt."

She lifted her arms and checked herself over. No cuts, nothing seriously injured. Her clothes were thoroughly wrecked by comparison, but that wasn't what mattered right now.

She braced herself against the half-broken carriage door and clambered upright to get out.

Only once standing did she realize she was barefoot. She turned to find her shoes tumbled into a corner of the carriage.

"Why is it so quiet? Hans, Lily?"

She put on her shoes and stepped down. Her heels sank immediately into the gravel and dirt.

She steadied herself and called out for the coachman and maid. Nothing.

Even the horses were gone.

It must have been early dawn—a thin mist clung to the forest surrounding her.

"Hans! Lily! Is anyone there?"

She called again, louder. Still nothing.

"Strange... did they go to find help?"

Unease crept up in her. Regina forced herself to look around with a composure she didn't quite feel.

This was clearly deep forest. Hundreds of conifers grew densely around a small clearing, standing as straight and close as a wall of spears. It was difficult to imagine how any carriage had passed through here at all.

She gazed into the depths of the forest, where the dawn mist blurred even the outlines of the trees. A sudden, uncanny silence sent a chill lurching across her skin. She looked away quickly.

No matter how long she searched, there was no sign of another person.

Regina swallowed against a dry throat.

There was truly nothing here but the broken carriage and herself.

"Good grief, this is maddening."

She said it out loud deliberately, refusing to let the eerie atmosphere press her down, and clambered awkwardly back into the tilted carriage.

She rubbed her arms against the cold air and looked around for anything to wrap around herself.

"It would be nice if there was something useful."

In the panic of waking she hadn't noticed—several empty boxes were rolling around inside the carriage.

"……?"

Surely not, she thought, and frantically opened every box in sight, or turned them upside down and shook them.

The boxes that had held her fine teacups, dresses, shoes, and jewelry were all completely empty.

"...What on earth. Have they completely lost their minds."

The coachman and maid had stolen her money and valuables and run.

She stared down at the boxes, unable to believe it. A hollow laugh escaped her.

"They actually stole my valuables and ran? Left me here unconscious?"

Then a thought struck her and she shot to her feet, yanking open the compartment beneath the carriage seat. She groped frantically through the empty space.

Her hand found nothing.

"Surely not—surely not! Not the necklace, please!"

She shoved her head in and searched every corner. Nothing came away in her palm but dust.

Regina trembled at the reality she could not accept, then collapsed down and screamed.

"My necklace!"

And what a necklace it was. She had pestered her father for three whole months before she'd finally gotten it. A necklace with a large sapphire, no less.

To get her hands on it, she had read books she'd never once touched in her life, and embroidered until all ten fingers bled. And that wasn't all. She had forced herself to be coy and wheedling when it didn't suit her temperament in the slightest, had begged and whined—had even gone on a hunger strike.

After all that heartbreaking effort, she had finally gotten the expensive necklace—and been robbed of it before she'd ever even worn it once.

"...How dare they steal my necklace too!"

Regina ground her teeth and widened her eyes with fury.

They hadn't even cared whether she was alive or dead.

She pictured herself crumpled like a scrap of paper in a corner of the carriage. Heat rose to the top of her head.

How could they do this to her.

As the fury surged, strength she hadn't known she had rose with it.

She huffed and roughly wiped at the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"This is no time for this. I need to get back and tell Father—have those people caught immediately."

She picked up a worn overcoat that had fallen to a corner, threw it roughly over her shoulders, and stepped down from the carriage.

It didn't matter if this was a forest or a swamp. She would crawl back if she had to, and she would make those two people's lives hell.

"I will absolutely catch them!"

The furious shout shattered the stillness of the forest. Startled, a few birds burst from the canopy in a frantic, thrumming slap of wings—Whump-whmp-whmp.

The Evelyn household was in an uproar.

Their only daughter, Regina, had gone into town early in the morning and hadn't returned even as the day passed.

When the servants sent out to find her came back empty-handed, Baron Evelyn—who had been sitting in his study waiting with barely contained anxiety—finally couldn't hold himself still and stood.

Outside the study window, the first pale light of dawn was breaking.

"This won't do. I need to go to the security force right now and file a report."

"I'll send someone immediately."

The baron shook his head at the butler's words.

"No—if I'm going to request a search party, sending servants alone won't be fast enough. I'll go myself."

He set the cigar he'd been smoking down in the ashtray and took the overcoat the butler was holding out.

"I'll prepare a horse."

"Yes."

The baron—dark circles under his eyes from a sleepless night—nodded with a set expression.

"I'll be back. If my daughter returns while I'm gone, I leave her in your care."

"Of course, my lord."

After entrusting his daughter to the butler's watch, he left the estate, mounted the horse a servant had brought round, and rode toward town.

"Hiyah!"

The cold morning air struck his face at the speed of the gallop. To the left of the isolated road leading from the estate to town, dense forest loomed.

He kept his face clear of the branches and urged the horse without pause.

'...I shouldn't have let her go herself.'

The image rose before him of Regina climbing into the carriage at first light—the moment he had finally pretended to give in after months of her begging for the necklace. She had been smiling brightly as she left, insisting she would buy it herself no matter what he said. He should have stopped her.

Baron Evelyn bitterly regretted his own complacency. It had never once occurred to him that his daughter could come to harm within his own small fiefdom.

'Please be safe, Regina.'

She was a treasure he had obtained late in life, raised on nothing but love. If anything happened to her, he and his wife would not be able to bear it.

Unable to hold back the swelling anxiety, he spurred the horse harder.

A girl had emerged from the forest at the side of the road and flinched in fright at the horse's terrible speed—Baron Evelyn paid her no mind and swept past.

Then a voice called out urgently from behind.

"F-Father! Father, over here! Wait—please!"

He startled and yanked the reins hard.

Neeeeigh!

The horse, muscles taut from the frantic gallop, reared high at the sudden, vicious pull—twisting its head, front hooves lifting then coming back down.

"Easy. Easy, there."

The baron patted the foaming horse's neck to calm it, then looked back. The horse, which had been snorting and stamping, quickly settled into gentle fidgeting.

"Father!"

Regina had just barely emerged from the forest. At the sudden sight of the baron, she burst into tears and came running in a desperate rush.

He stared down at her from his horse with furrowed brow for a moment—then recognized his daughter and dismounted in a rush.

"Regina! Good heavens—are you alright?"

He ran to her and checked her over. When he was certain she was unharmed, he pulled her into his arms.

"Oh, God, thank you—thank you for returning my daughter safely to my arms."

"Father!"

The moment Regina was held, she broke—a raw, stinging surge of every misery she’d been forced to swallow came flooding out.

The forest had been so dark that every tree looked the same, every place looked like every other place. She had reached the point of fearing she might wander there forever. Her legs ached like they were about to give out, and the dried tear tracks on her cheeks stung. She'd been so exhausted she'd curled up on the ground—and had found the trace of a path entirely by accident. The moment she ran toward it, there was her father riding past.

"Regina, are you hurt anywhere?"

"Mmmph—waaaaa!" Regina finally cracked, the wave of sorrow hitting her all at once. She wailed against the baron's chest, and he awkwardly patted her back.

For some reason, though they had only been apart half a day, it felt strangely as though he had been separated from his daughter for a very long time.

"It's alright. Everything's alright now—don't cry."

"I was so frightened, Father!"

Holding his daughter, emotion swelling past containing, the baron reddened at the eyes.

"I know, I know. You're safe. Don't cry anymore, Regina."

He produced a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his daughter's tear-streaked face.

"Here—you must be cold."

Regina draped the overcoat her father had taken off over her shoulders and took his hand. He lifted her—still hiccupping too hard to answer—up into the saddle and climbed up behind her.

"Let's go home."

Saying those words, the baron barely held back the tears that surged up his throat.

He must be getting older. His feelings had grown more tender.

"Yes, Father. Let's hurry home."

But seeing his daughter smile with her swollen eyes, so clearly glad—he couldn't hold it back after all.