CHAPTER 105: A PLACE TO BELONG

Silence surrounds them, Eirin could only hear the sound of her heart beating. It was until Shade decided to break the silence.

"What? Do you feel sorry for me because they kept calling me a demon?" Shade’s voice was muffled against her shoulder, a fragile whisper that lacked its usual bite.

Eirin gulped, a lump in her throat. "N-No, it’s just... you look like you’re about to cry. I’ll just—"

Before Eirin could let go, a sudden, desperate grip tightened around her from behind. Shade pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist, his face resting heavily on her shoulder.

"No. Just stay like this for a little."

Eirin could feel Shade’s shoulders shaking, a subtle tremor that rippled through his strong frame. Her own arms tightened around him, and she began to pat his back gently, a comforting rhythm, a silent offering of solace. Who would ever expect that the formidable Shade Cromwell, notorious for being cold and nonchalant, for his impenetrable aloofness, was now openly weeping in Eirin’s arms?

’Something else probably happened?’ Eirin thought, her mind racing, trying to piece together the fragments of the day.

What could possibly make the strong, unyielding Shade Cromwell cry like this? What news could have shattered his composure? She continued to comfort the young man, hearing his soft sniffs, empathy blossoming in her chest, a silent promise to understand, and perhaps, to help him bear the unexpected weight of his hidden grief.

Eirin continued patting Shade’s back. The warmth of his body seeped through his uniform, a grounding presence against the cool stone of the library wall. She felt the last tremors of his silent sobs subside, a subtle lessening of the tension that had gripped him.

"Thanks," she heard the young man mutter, his voice still rough, but regaining a hint of its familiar cadence as he pulled away from the hug, the embrace lingering for a heartbeat longer than either of them might have expected. His eyes, when he finally lifted his gaze, were red-rimmed.

Feeling a sudden, awkward intimacy, a sense that she shouldn’t stare at his exposed vulnerability, Eirin shifted. She moved from kneeling in front of him to sitting beside him, leaving a small, deliberate distance between them. She rested her back against the ancient stone wall, feeling its cool solidity.

"I didn’t know you would let your guard down like that with me," she murmured, her voice soft, almost a whisper, directed more at the vast, silent space around them than at him.

Shade chuckled. "I would have said to forget everything, to wipe it from your memory, but I guess it’s too late now." His tone was a clumsy attempt to reassert his usual detached persona, to rebuild the walls he had momentarily allowed to crumble.

Eirin chuckled in response, a genuine, light sound that filled the quiet space between them. "You’re still acting like yourself. I was a little scared you’d changed for good." The thought, unspoken but real, had been unsettling. A kinder, gentler Shade would have been a fascinating anomaly, but also a complete stranger.

Shade turned his head, a smirk twisting his lips, a familiar glint returning to his dark eyes. "What? Are you scared that you’ll fall for me?" The teasing was back.

Eirin laughed, a genuine, heartfelt peal of amusement that seemed to lighten the heavy air around them. She faced the young man fully, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "You know what? If you were kinder, I might have indeed." The words were spoken lightly, a playful jab, but a faint flush rose on her cheeks.

Shade’s smirk deepened, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. "I’ll try being kinder to you now." The words, delivered with unexpected sincerity, and the way he looked at her, directly, without his usual disdain, took Eirin aback. Her breath hitched. She swallowed hard, the unexpected earnestness in his gaze making her heart beat a little faster. She quickly shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. This was only Shade’s way of teasing her, a new, subtler form of his usual games.

"You can try that all you want," Eirin said, her voice a little steadier now, regaining her composure, but a warmth lingered in her chest.

Soon, a comfortable silence enveloped the two of them again, settling like a soft blanket around their shoulders. It wasn’t awkward or tense, but rather a profound, oddly comforting stillness.

Eirin felt an unexpected ease from the quiet, a sense of shared space that was both relaxing and surprisingly intimate. She rested her back against the rough stone wall and stared at the huge tree in front of them, its gnarled branches reaching towards the sky, giving them enough shade from the sun. The leaves rustled faintly in the breeze, a soft, hushed whisper.

"Say, do you remember your reason for coming here?" Shade’s voice broke the silence, his tone contemplative, a stark departure from his usual abruptness.

Eirin turned to him, tilting her head. "The reason? Didn’t you guys bring me here?" she said, a playful note in her voice, hoping to provoke a pissed-off Shade, to see if the familiar anger would return. But her attempt was futile. He merely looked at her, his expression unreadable.

"I guess, we did." His reply was flat.

Eirin bit her lower lip, the question suddenly reminding her of the sole, solemn reason why she had come to this academy, the purpose that had driven her through countless trials. To find the answer for Ava’s death, to help her find justice, and to help her best friend finally rest in peace. It was a promise she had made, a vow etched onto her heart.

’But I haven’t done anything that could lead me to the answers for that,’ Eirin thought, a pang of guilt squeezing her heart. She sighed, the sound barely audible. The chaotic events since her arrival had consumed her focus, pulling her in countless directions, away from her true purpose.

"That reminds me," Eirin continued, turning back to Shade, her voice thoughtful. "Why did you guys do that? It feels like it’s been so long, but I never truly got an answer from any of you. Why did you bring me here?"

Shade shrugged, a casual gesture that belied the weight of his next words. "I couldn’t care less about you," he said, being brutally honest, his tone flat. Eirin scoffed, she knew it was his nature, his blunt, unvarnished truth. "I only agreed with that mission because I wanted to go to the Infirmus."

Eirin tilted her head, ignoring the brutal words, focusing instead on the new piece of information. "Why? Did you want to something there? Find someone?"

Shade looked up to the tree in front of them, his gaze distant, lost in thought. "I was searching for someone... someone important."

Hearing those words, a flicker of understanding passed through Eirin. The tears he’d shed—it was connected to this. She didn’t want to pry any further, sensing the profound personal nature of his quest, thinking that the young man might feel uncomfortable. He seemed to be wrestling with a deeper pain, a burden he rarely shared.

"Have you ever felt like you never belonged somewhere? Anywhere?" His question was soft, almost tentative, a striking contrast to his usual confrontational tone.

"You’re being quite talkative today," Eirin giggled, trying to lighten the heavy mood, though the seriousness of his question resonated within her.

"I know. I’m not being myself."

Eirin glanced at Shade, and the young man was still staring at what was in front of them, his profile etched against the sunlight. His question, spoken with such honesty, sank deep into Eirin’s mind, because she was no stranger to that sense of displacement. She always felt like that, a perpetual outsider, a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. She only felt like there was a true place she could call home, a place where she truly belonged, back when she still had Ava by her side. Ava had been her anchor, her compass in a confusing world.

"I do understand that feeling," Eirin confessed, her voice hushed, empathetic. "Why? Do you also feel like that? Even here in this place? Surrounded by your friends, by Link, Trixtan, and the others?" she asked back, curious about the inner world of this complex boy.

Shade rested his head against the wall behind them, closing his eyes for a moment. "I do."

"Why? Is it because the other students are calling you a demon?" The question slipped out before Eirin could censor herself. It was a sensitive topic, but she felt a sudden need to confront the root of his pain.

Eirin flinched after Shade’s eyes snapped open, his gaze sharp, piercing. "They’re not wrong," he said, his voice flat, devoid of self-pity. His words caused Eirin to feel something clutch at her chest, a surge of guilt for her own fleeting judgment. "You saw it, didn’t you? How I lost control of myself, how the curse twisted me, how I almost killed you." He chuckled.

"You saw it multiple times, yet you’re weirdly accepting of it. As if it was normal."

Shade stared at Eirin longer than expected, his gaze intense, searching. "Now that I’m thinking about it, aren’t you the weird one? If someone tells you they’re a monster, you should believe them. You should run."

Eirin scoffed, a sound of disbelief. Then she laughed, a full-throated, heartfelt laugh that surprised even herself, leaving the young man dumbfounded, his serious expression momentarily replaced by bewildered confusion.

Seeing and hearing Shade Cromwell talk more than one or two sentences, seeing him reveal such vulnerability, already filled Eirin with a strange bliss, a sense of connection. She didn’t realize until that moment how truly relaxing it was to talk to him, to peel back the layers of his hardened exterior.

"You don’t look like a monster, though." Eirin’s voice was firm, unwavering, her belief in him radiating outward.

Shade scoffed again, staring down at his hands, his fingers clenching into fists, then relaxing. "You say that even after seeing how I almost killed you," he said, a grim reminder of their past conflicts. "You also saw them, didn’t you? Those two with the blood red eyes, back in the Infirmus. They were like me. They are what I could become."

Eirin tilted her head, digging deep into her memory, searching for the images of the red-eyed figures from the very beginning before she even arrived at the academy. The moment she remembered their chilling presence, the violence, the coldness in their eyes, she was silent.

That encounter had been the start of everything, meeting those corrupted individuals, the first crack in her ordinary life. That’s when everything started crumbling into pieces, leading her to this exact, complicated situation with Shade.

"I am neither human nor demon," Shade continued. "I’m half-baked, can’t fit into any of those places. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Where I belong."

Eirin took a deep breath. "Why can’t you just be Shade Cromwell?" Those words, spoken with simple conviction, caused the young man to look at Eirin, his eyes locking onto hers, searching for the meaning behind her words.

"You can be human, and a demon, if that’s what you are. You can be yourself," she smiled, a radiant, comforting expression that shone in the shaded back area of the library. "I don’t know. Does what I’m saying even make sense?"

Her smile, radiant and accepting, caused Shade to chuckle, a lighter, more genuine sound than before, a glimmer of light in his shadowed eyes. "Yeah, right. Why am I even thinking about this?" He pushed himself up from the steps, the movement fluid and decisive, as if her words had given him a new purpose, a new direction.

"Let’s go. You still need to train, right?" He looked at her, a hint of his old demanding self, but now, it felt different.

It felt like a promise.