"Hey… you’re just… so unreasonable! I was the one forced into that kiss… I feel disgusted too—why is it my fault?"

Alessia’s fingers dug into Kanata’s wound. The pain shot through her like fate itself was being strangled. Tears streamed down Kanata’s face.

If she’d known Gen would steal a kiss, she’d never have stepped foot in this hospital.

But… no choice at all!

"When you make a mistake, correct it humbly. We agreed—no contact with Gen. Kanata, *you* broke the promise first."

Alessia’s expression stayed icy as she subtly tightened her grip, drawing fresh blood.

The faint *sizzle* of torn flesh sent chills down Kanata’s spine. Stepping into this mess for no reason—now enduring physical agony, trembling with fear the Sovereign might cut Nozomi’s treatment funds any moment.

What sin did I commit to deserve this…?

"Two paths. First: use your body to soothe my anger. You know what I mean. Or… our usual topic."

That cursed topic—the one Alessia always wielded like a blade: leaving Nozomi to wither in despair.

Trampling dignity. Crushing lives. Treating what others cherish as trash beneath her heel…

Why would Father praise such a twisted soul?

Among all his students, Alessia and Gen were the most ungrateful. Because of them, her life had grown heavier, sharper, endless.

Before Kanata could answer, Alessia’s phone rang. A secretary, no doubt, urging her back to Falling Cherry City affairs.

The city never slept. She’d wasted her entire day off—backlogs surely piled high.

She grunted impatiently, hung up.

"I’ll spare you today. Stay quiet. Think deeply. By next Friday, 9 PM—I want your answer."

Seeing Kanata flustered, trembling, tears barely held back, Alessia’s interest faded.

Break the Bloodbond Thrall now, and future amusement vanishes.

Better to hunt down Gen first—for daring to touch Kanata—and teach her her place, Alessia mused.

At the door, she deliberately licked the fresh blood from her fingers. Waste such a delicacy? Unthinkable.

"Blood shed in true agony… tastes especially sweet."

…

All night, Kanata tossed, sleepless. The stone on her chest grew heavier. The nurse dressing her wound scolded harshly—but Kanata heard almost nothing.

Reality choked her. Disinfectant stung the air. Medicine burned the wound. Her stiff body forced tears she’d held back to spill anew.

Past midnight, exhaustion won. A sedative pulled her into uneasy sleep.

Soon after, the hospital door eased open. A soft *whir* of wheels. Someone approached the bedside.

Her gaze on Kanata was tender enough to melt stone.

"Kanata… I’m sorry. But I’ll always be with you. I’ve always… loved you. We were never truly apart. And we never will be."

She leaned down gently, pressing her cool lips to Kanata’s.

Moonlight poured through the window, wrapping them in soft, silvery light.