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The Year 991 of Unified Power

The Third World War, which would later be called the War of Hope, came to an end.

There were discussions about applying military law to Hero Zion Laurel for abandoning his forces during battle, but ultimately those voices were silenced due to his return and the fact that he was stateless.

However, because of these issues, she was never venerated as a hero like in previous wars, which was something she desired.

Since the beginning of 991, Rehabilitation Expert Hop Harvey hadn’t been attending the Rehabilitation Center due to personal circumstances and announced his complete retirement after the end of the War of Hope. He also refused the noble title from the Noden Kingdom he was set to receive in July and ceased all activities.

The reason for this was that he had lost all his memories, but very few people knew that fact.

With this, the stories of the hero who safeguarded the world and the hero who rebuilt it began to fade from people’s memories.

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“Zion…”

“I’m right here.”

Life with Hop, who had lost all his memories, wasn’t joyful, but it was a happy feeling.

I wondered what today’s teacher was doing.

“This is broken, but I don’t know how to fix it.”

Hop, who had lost his memory, kept trying to break things, which was quite a problem.

There seems to be an implication that he can only love broken things, etched into his soul.

Without any memories, he unconsciously wanted to damage things.

“What have you broken this time?”

“This…”

And what he had broken this time was—

“Oh no…!”

The ladybug-shaped cushion that lay on the bed we shared.

Had he been pressing it down in curiosity or something?

The two red fabrics that made the shell had torn, causing the stuffing to burst out.

“I told you that was precious!”

“I-I’m sorry. When I heard it was precious, I just couldn’t hold back…”

Hop shrank back, looking at me for approval.

Thinking back, he had once remarked that he wished to see more broken versions of beautiful things.

I felt a deep sadness, but I had to endure it desperately.

After all, it was a gift he had given me.

I shouldn’t scold him just because he broke it.

“It’s okay, Teacher. I’ll fix it.”

I took the cushion and set it aside, reaching out my arms to him, but he leaned against me with a sullen expression.

It felt like he was reluctantly complying because he felt guilty.

What was most difficult for me now wasn’t that he couldn’t remember anything, or that he trembled with confusion and anxiety, or even that he kept breaking things.

It was that I could no longer feel his love for me.

He no longer held any memories of us, and unable to remember anything, he only loved broken things.

I had told him that we had loved each other, but he could only accept that fact in his mind.

Even now, as we embraced, I could no longer feel his heart beating for me.

Hop no longer touched me, no longer embraced me, nor asked for kisses.

Even when I held him close, it felt only lonely, and I wondered if that was the reason.

Eventually, I let go of him again and returned to fix the broken cushion, bringing out a needle and thread to sit beside him once more.

“This was a gift you gave me to celebrate our 50th day together. Do you remember?”

“No, not at all.”

I wanted to share our precious memories with Hop, but he bowed his head again, seemingly apologetic.

Was he sorry for breaking it? Or sorry for not remembering the memories?

Now, I could no longer talk about our memories. Those memories were only mine to hold.

When I mentioned our memories, he would look so lost, and I would feel guilt for making him feel bad.

Every single day spent with him was supposed to be pure happiness, but sometimes it turned into this unbearable feeling.

Still, I had to endure.

After all, this was all my fault.

I promised to create new memories, so I had to stay strong…

“Ow!”

I was desperately trying to suppress my feelings, but in my distraction with sewing, I pricked my finger with the needle.

Blood began to well up from the punctured thumb, forming a droplet that felt hot as it trickled down.

“Ow, where can I wipe this…”

“……!”

Suddenly, Hop’s eyes widened as he gazed at my injured finger.

Could it be…

As I offered him my bloodied finger, he reached out with an entranced look, bringing his face close, and said,

“Are you… okay?”

He grasped my hand with trembling hands.

“It’s okay if you can’t hold back, Teacher.”

“Ah, Zion…”

When I told him it was fine not to hold back, he started to gently lick the blood off my finger with a blissful expression, as if he were attending to my wound.

Blood kept flowing from the wound, and every time it did, he licked it clean or pressed my finger to his mouth, apparently trying to fix it, but he looked like he was simply indulging in the taste of it.

‘Is it good when I’m hurt or broken…’

Once my finger stopped bleeding, he pressed it at the joint to squeeze out more blood or sucked too hard, wanting to keep seeing my pain.

Since it was something he loved, I desperately tried to endure the pain, but he found pleasure in watching my wounded expression.

How did we end up like this?

We had merely… saved the world.

I was meant to be the one to save the world and get damaged in the process, but now it was my beloved teacher who became broken, and his brokenness tormented me.

When I was damaged, he healed me, but now I couldn’t remedy his state.

It was so painful that he no longer loved me, that he still wanted to see my broken self, and that I couldn’t heal him.

There was nothing in the world more torturous than those feelings.

Even when my body became too damaged to move, even when I separated from him, even when I heard he had died, I thought there was nothing worse than that.

Yet, like proclaiming a bottomless pit, more pain continued to befall me.

I felt resentful of my own heart for questioning which was worse: my loving teacher dying or the living teacher no longer loving me.

And in the end, those thoughts always led back to, “How can I break myself more for him to love me again?”

But that shouldn’t happen.

This body was the one he had fixed, even at such a cost.

I vowed to myself that I could never let such a thing occur.

I couldn’t make Hop’s final choice meaningless.

“It seems to be all healed now, Teacher.”

“Ah…”

When no more blood flowed, Hop released my hand with a hint of regret.

He watched with keen eyes as I finished stitching the cushion and handed it back to him, breaking into a faint smile at the mended part.

My sewing wasn’t perfect, so the ladybug-shaped cushion had a rather rough patch where the needle had passed through.

But perhaps he liked it just like that; he caressed the protruding parts with his fingers and pressed his cheek against them.

“Let’s come out and eat dinner.”

“…Okay.”

I called Hop, who had been absorbed in the cushion’s injuries, to the table.

He was surprised to see the various dishes I had prepared with all my might.

“There’s so much here.”

“Really? I’m not very good at cooking, but I tried my best. I used expensive ingredients, so it should taste good.”

“Is it a special day today?”

“Hehe, did you catch on? Actually, today is the day I first met you. It’s been exactly two years since that day.”

“Ah…”

Even if I said this, he probably wouldn’t feel it.

He wouldn’t remember what day we met and what happened that day.

Still, it was good to see Hop happily sit at the table with delicious food before us.

I was relieved.

That was enough for me.

I was happy just to have him here with me and to spend time enjoying the little things.

Even if it was at my expense.

“Enjoy your meal, Teacher.”

“Thank you for the meal.”

Hop sat down, and I took my seat directly across from him.

After all that effort, I should also eat…

“Ugh…”

“?”

Suddenly, I felt a wave of nausea rising.

What was happening? I was just sitting at the table…

“Ugh!”

I could only smell the delicious food, yet I felt like I couldn’t eat at all.

I felt sick, my head spinning, and my heart racing. What was going on?

‘……!’

In that moment, a word flashed through my mind.

Could it be, could it be…!

“Zion? Are you alright?”

Hop stopped eating and came over, placing a hand on my back.

“Gah…”

With his touch, I could only burst into tears.

How could this be happening…!

Should I tell him this?

I had to tell him, but I couldn’t get the words out.

How could he, who had lost his memory, accept this?

I couldn’t imagine how his feelings would change upon hearing my confession, and ultimately, I swallowed those thoughts.

I wanted so much to tell him, but this was something I couldn’t say.

That was…

I was pregnant with his child.

 

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