《R18+》Cigno Fanciulla | Scaramouche

● Act II | Intermission 01

Cigno Fanciulla Act II: Notte di Luna
《 Interlude - Feathers, Narwhals, and Sparks 》

"Where you get to sneak a peek into Scaramouche's mind, and find out what he thinks about being stuck with Capitano's underlings - especially with how close they seem to be."

"This damned sickness, dare it go hindering my goals!" I groaned as I was yet again forced to sit down, maybe lay in bed, here in a room at the back of the deck - treated like a wilted vegetable.

For Archon's sake, this is horrendous - simply unacceptable that they leave me here while both of them scurry around, probably frolicking with one another in other spacious rooms of this ship.

Whatever, I can't probably do anything due to my state.

If not for that thing, then I would have been able to carry on my duties instead of staying idle in hopes of an early recovery. Then again, it oddly feels nice to be pampered by Yukiko even though she seems to be kind of distant with me.

On the morning of when my fever first spiked, I awoke to holding the hands which radiated a cooling sensation. Then, I realized who its owner had been - Yukiko Tomoe, the one who now goes by Fenella and Covielle. Resisting the urge to squeeze her hands, I reminded myself of how I should still maintain my stance with her.

That's right. Even if I have recalled my memories - or to be more precise, still in the process of recovering them - there is no guarantee that she would have a recollection of hers as well. After all, she didn't undergo the process of sealing like us. She just came to pass like a fleeting memory.

Should she decide to recover them, we would have to go to the heart of Inazuma - where the lost is kept, and where the hidden is found.

A sigh escapes my lips, alarming the female who jolts up from her previous manner of sitting down on the floor, supporting the weight of her upper body by leaning onto the bed. Now, she straightened herself, and retracted her hands away from mine.

She didn't even spare me a smile. How odd it truly is.

"Forgive me, I seem to have overstepped my bounds. Do you perhaps feel better?" She asked, her voice sounding coarse, pained, and tired.

Her eyes kept avoiding my gaze, but I caught a glimpse of her puffy red eyes. "Had you been crying, Yukiko?" As the question leaves my mouth, a moment of hesitation sprawled all over her face.

No. Why do you look so sad?

My body moved on its own, leaning forward to reach out for her - hoping that she would stay and await me with open arms like always. However, I was met with a cold reaction: arms crossed over her chest as she steps away reluctantly.

"Ah, no. It's only due to the poor circulation with my posture overnight." She responded in a flat tone, yet her eyes betray her. Before I could even ask, she opens her pretty little mouth to say, "If you have no more concerns, I'll be excusing myself to get a few servants to serve you breakfast in bed. We'll leave tomorrow so please attend to your preparations, and rest well for departure."

And there she goes, fading off to the distance - slipping away from my field of vision. There was an ache in my chest as I saw the exact image overlapping with a memory.

Then the ache went pulsating to my head, my hearing deafened by a piercing silence, and the steady breaths have grown ragged in time.

Knock knock. Soft knocks were left on my door. Judging by the weight and resonance of the sound created, my best guess would be that it had been the swan maiden who knocked. As if to support my deduction, her voice spoke out flatly like a board, "Pardon my intrusion, I've brought food and medicine."