To Be Hero 3 (Patreon)

Unsurprisingly, Eri was the next to come after Ophelia.

“…I’m leaving for Prince Lorian’s party.” She made no secret of her intentions, though Cloud knew it was still difficult for her to admit aloud. “I think it will do me good.”

He nodded with a soft smile. “I understand, Eri. You’ll find no pushback from me. Though, I’ll admit, you don’t actually need anyone to become great. You have enough talent on your own. Know that.”

She looked at him strangely, thoughts swirling behind her eyes. “Thank you for making this easy. I hadn’t expected that.”

He chose to take that as a compliment.

“Will you be leaving today?” he asked instead.

“Yes.” She nodded once more. “I’ll ask Ophelia to help me with the status.”

Cloud blinked, feeling heat creep onto his face. Thinking about it, there was a strange intimacy to the process of party separation, especially between a man and a woman.

“Yes, I think that makes sense.” He smiled warmly at her. “It was an honour having you in my party, Eri Oller. Try to take good care of yourself.”

And those were the last words he spoke to her before she left. It made sense that she would not linger. Realistically, Lorian’s group stood in a far better position, both in strength and social standing. This was a good decision for her.

He sighed.

All that remained was Neria, and that conversation was bound to become emotional. Despite what he had said, there was still the possibility that she would want to leave as well. It would devastate him, but he could not deny her freedom of choice.

“Still, true feelings must be shared so that regret does not surface later,” Cloud murmured, feeling oddly uncertain. “I can’t believe I’m this shaken.”

Just because he cared deeply for his friend did not mean she owed him loyalty. He was not about to wield guilt for his own benefit. He would reprimand her, perhaps, but that was the extent of it.

Besides, he ought to be happy that Ophelia’s feelings for him extended beyond that of leader and friend. Even now, it still felt strange, almost unreal, how their conversation had drifted in that direction.

Alluring priestess.

He supposed he was not quite as removed from depraved thoughts as he liked to believe. Still, he was proud of himself for not giving in to lust. Positive reinforcement mattered, even when one gave it to oneself.

Even so, he felt charmed, relieved, and perhaps a little frightened. Ophelia’s healing was important.

He… no, they needed it.

Another knock came at his door.

“Cloud?” Neria’s voice was quiet. Weak. “I… need to talk to you.”

His heart trembled, nervousness flooding through his body. He swallowed and brushed his hands against his pants.

No. He had no reason to be nervous.

He exhaled slowly, forcing most of the tension from himself.

“Enter.”

He turned fully toward the door.

Neria opened it carefully before slipping inside and closing it behind her.

She looked awful.

Her eyes were red and puffy. Her hair was dishevelled. Bruises lightly marked her cheeks and nose. Even her clothes were untidy.

As she stood there staring at him with the most pitiful expression he had ever seen, her eyes watered again and her lips trembled.

“I…” she started weakly before stopping. A hand rose to cover part of her face. “He said he’d ki—”

Before she could finish, Cloud crossed the distance and slapped her.

The strike was lazy, lacking true force, but palm still met soft skin with a sharp crack.

Neria staggered back, blinking in stunned surprise as her hand rose to her reddening cheek.

“You are not allowed to be stupid immediately after being told your actions were born from idiocy, Neria.” He glared at her. Truly glared, even as pain twisted in his chest. “I know what he said. Why didn’t you tell me?”

His voice cracked near the end.

More than the act itself, what wounded him most was the lack of trust behind it.

Sure, the old Cloud probably would not have found a solution to the threat, but he would have tried. That was the point. They were supposed to face things together, even if neither of them could produce an answer.

“…I’m sorr—”

He slapped her again.

This time his eyes burned with restrained emotion.

“No, Neria.” His breathing grew rough. “I do not want you to be sorry. I do not want you drowning in regret or tearing yourself apart with guilt. I want you to be honest. If not with me, then at least with yourself.”

Cloud wiped at his eyes, exhaustion dragging at him. A weak laugh escaped him, sounding more defeated than amused.

“You know what hurts the most?” he asked quietly. “Realising that you’re incapable of giving me the same trust you want from me.”

His hand pressed lightly against his chest.

“How much have you hidden from me because you thought I was too weak to handle it? Do I seem like someone other than the boy you grew up with?”

Neria was openly crying now, shoulders shaking as she repeatedly whispered apologies between sobs.

Cloud did not think she was lying. Her guilt was genuine. He knew that.

Part of him wanted to comfort her immediately.

He did not.

“But I still love you, Neria,” he said softly, forcing calmness back onto his face even as exhaustion hollowed him out. “Even if my trust in you has weakened.”

He took another breath.

“Do not twist yourself into what you think I’ll like. Do not break yourself trying to earn forgiveness. Just be honest with me, Neria. Can you do that?”

She nodded quickly. Frantically.

Cloud stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace.

“I’m sorry for slapping you,” he murmured. “That was anger speaking. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I do,” she answered immediately between sloppy sobs.