Side Story - Beyond the Nightmare

Around two years ago.

One day, back when Raiden was still a notorious delinquent.

The black-haired boy was having a day no different from any other.

- Look over there, it's that maniac...

- Let's go somewhere else, who knows what kind of trouble he'll cause.

- To think, that thing is the eldest son of the Duke... The future of House Lishite is bleak indeed.

Staggering footsteps crossed the heart of the Academy Plaza.

As Raiden wandered, reeking of alcohol, the other students scurried out of his path.

They had no wish to experience whatever torment awaited those who caught his eye.

With gazes mixed with contempt and fear, they watched him from afar.

"......"

Raiden, too, was aware of their stares.

However, he showed no reaction.

Normally, he would have picked a fight with a few of them, just to further tarnish his own reputation.

But today, he simply wasn't in the mood.

Or rather, it wasn't a matter of mood, but of his heart.

He was utterly exhausted.

- To think, the first thing you do after returning to your family home is flip the table during dinner.

- You haven't changed one bit, Raiden.

- Just how far do you intend to disappoint your father?

The words he heard from his father yesterday echoed in his ears.

Disappointment.

As he ruminated on the weight of that simple word, a girl's voice resonated in his mind.

- Young Master, please stop this.

- There's no need to intentionally invite their scorn...

- It wasn't your fault that the Duchess passed away. So please...!

The voice of someone who worried for him.

A few sentences, laced with a delicate tremor.

And then...

-Slap!

-Silence, Rachel.

The sharp sound of flesh against flesh, cutting her words short.

A red handprint bloomed on the girl's cheek.

His reason consumed by the mention of his mother, the boy lashed out.

- How dare a mere servant speak so boldly.

- You seem to be mistaken about your place just because I indulged you a little as a child...

- Don't you dare speak to me, you gutter trash from the slums.

- If I hadn't taken you in, you'd be whoring yourself out in some brothel by now.

Tears welled up in her brown eyes.

Yet, her gaze remained fixed on the boy.

Her face, etched with sadness and pity, was almost unbearable to look at.

The utter lack of hatred or resentment in her pure compassion only intensified the ache in his heart.

Raiden, feeling a wave of nausea rising within him, fled the mansion.

And now, back to the present.

"Ugh... Haa..."

Raiden groaned, trying to calm his churning stomach, still rebelling from the excessive alcohol.

He usually only drank enough to maintain his delinquent act.

But yesterday's events had driven him to drink beyond his usual limit.

Dragging his foggy mind, he started towards the carriage stop, hoping to catch a ride back to the dormitory.

It was then that...

-......

-......

Raiden noticed a sudden hush falling over his surroundings.

He slowly lifted his gaze to see Margaret and her entourage approaching from a distance.

The Academy students, who were gossiping about him just moments ago, sealed their lips, falling into an uneasy silence.

It was only natural.

Margaret loathed it when whispers about Raiden reached her ears.

The reason why even the gossip-hungry social circles avoided mentioning the delinquent Raiden was...

Because she, and her family's influence, suppressed it.

It was the only sensitive topic for Margaret, the Empire's most revered flower.

A few months ago, some of her followers, eager to curry favor, dared to badmouth Raiden in her presence. They were promptly ostracized from social circles, a tale that spread like wildfire.

This incident fueled rumors that Margaret still harbored feelings for Raiden.

She, however, vehemently denied it, stating that she simply couldn't bear to hear even a whisper about him.

Whatever the reason, it was an unspoken rule within the Academy...

Speaking ill of Raiden, at least within earshot of Margaret, was strictly forbidden.

"Ugh..."

Raiden turned to leave at the sight of Margaret approaching.

However, his alcohol-laden body refused to cooperate.

As he cursed his own sluggishness, Margaret and her group stopped right in front of him.

"Hahaha! Is that true, Your Highness?"

"Yes, I thought I was going to die. And then, my father... Oh."

Margaret, who was engaged in a lively conversation with her entourage, stopped mid-sentence as she noticed Raiden.

For a moment.

Their eyes met.

His, black and clouded with exhaustion.

Hers, red and shimmering with a hint of confusion.

"......"

"......"

A beat of silence passed.

It was Raiden who looked away first.

He let out a tired sigh and continued on his way.

As the boy brushed past her, Margaret noticed something.

A shadow of loss and emptiness had settled upon his face.

She sensed something amiss.

Having secretly observed him all this time, despite her feigned indifference, she could tell that something was different about him today.

His eyes, usually brimming with arrogance and annoyance, were…

Downcast, like a trampled flower lying on the pavement.

Concerned, Margaret found herself calling out to him before she could stop herself.

"Hey...! You!"

"......?"

Raiden turned slightly at the sound of her voice, his expression questioning, as if surprised that she would address him directly.

Margaret, realizing the impulsiveness of her actions, froze.

Even if her emotions had gotten the better of her...

To think she had grabbed his sleeve.

Her face stiffened, and her lips trembled slightly.

Raiden, noticing her reaction, frowned.

"...What is it? If you have nothing to say, I'll be on my way."

He roughly shook off her hand and turned to leave again.

However, his movement was quickly halted.

This time, it was Margaret who had grabbed his hand.

"You..."

"Haa... I asked you what you wanted. Are you deaf?"

Margaret seemed momentarily angered by his response, but she quickly suppressed it.

His face, seen up close after so long, seemed…

So very fragile.

"How rude. Even if we're both from Ducial families, there's a clear difference in our standing... How dare the Empire's Shield obstruct the path of the Empire's Sword?"

"......"

"And I believe I told you I didn't want to see your face again. Are you deaf as well as blind? You truly are an idiot..."

To the boy spewing harsh words, no different from any other day, Margaret asked in a small voice.

"...Are you alright?"

"......"

Raiden's words caught in his throat.

The boy's eyes, which had been downcast since yesterday, shook violently.

A throbbing pain shot through his head, sending a jolt of agony through his body.

He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the turmoil within him, but his composure was crumbling.

Are you alright?

It was a simple question.

A question he could have easily brushed aside with a sneer, as he always did.

Yet, for some reason...

He found himself struggling to bear the weight of those words.

His heart pounded in his chest, and his thoughts scattered.

Unable to utter a response, Raiden turned away.

He roughly shook off Margaret's hand and muttered a single sentence.

"Don't worry about it..."

"......"

With that, Raiden headed towards the carriage stop.

Margaret stood there, watching the boy's retreating figure.

.

.

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