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Felix’s body was covered in scars. She could no longer remember when those wounds had been inflicted. After all, the pain was fleeting; once the flesh had healed and the scabs fell off, only silent scars remained.
If only every wound could be visible. She knew she must look terrible. The concerned words and the worried glances that followed her like shadows were already enough to trouble her, not to mention the unmistakable sensation of heaviness in her lower abdomen. Felix could endure even a Thunder without uttering a sound, yet when her menstrual cramps were at their worst, she even wanted to use her sword to end the endless torment. Most medicines had no effect on her damned body, and white magic was utterly powerless. Mercedes watched the sweat on her forehead and her pale, chapped lower lip; her furrowed brow made Felix’s head feel as if it were starting to ache too. At times like this, she just wanted to curl up in bed, cover herself with the blankets, and imagine herself on the training grounds or practicing the new sword techniques Byleth had just taught her. As her consciousness grew hazy, she would occasionally recall the person from the past who had always been by her side, clutching her hand tightly and telling her, “I’ll always be here for you”. Felix dug her fingernails deep into her arm. Snap out of it; that person is gone now.
Dimitri had been fortunate enough to avoid this ordeal that most women couldn’t escape, so she couldn’t fully empathize with Felix. Instead, she clung to Felix like burrs that wouldn’t let go. She quietly observed her expressions and asked about her feelings: bringing her meals, pouring tea, preparing hot compresses, and lingering outside Felix’s door, all with a sense of futile busyness. Fed up with the disturbance, Felix abruptly yanked the blanket off her head and shouted toward the door, telling her to be quiet.
Dimitri stood there looking a bit aggrieved, wishing she could stare a hole right through Felix’s door, yet she knew that staying there might only annoy Felix even more. Just as she was about to leave, the tightly closed door creaked open a crack. Felix - in a rare moment - had her hair down; its normally lustrous black sheen seemed to have dimmed considerably in the dim light, and her haggard expression caught her eye. “If you don’t want to leave, stay with me for a while,” she said.
The room had a distinctive scent: a blend of wood and sword oil, just like Felix’s scent. Dimitri followed Felix slowly to the bedside, coming to a stop a palm’s width away from her. As she sat down, she carefully tucked in the hem of her skirt, not wanting to further agitate Felix, who was already irritable from the pain. Felix watched her out of the corner of her eye. Dimitri sat very stiffly, her hands clenched into fists and resting flat on her thighs as if she didn’t know where to put them. Felix found it a little amusing. Just as the corners of her mouth twitched slightly, another wave of excruciating pain spread throughout her body. She groaned and lowered her head; her loose strands of hair fell from her shoulders with the movement, obscuring most of her face, which was contorted with pain.
Dimitri was so startled she nearly jumped to her feet. “Felix, are you okay?”
Felix’s words were practically forced out from between her teeth, “...Just stay where you are.”
Dimitri’s eyelashes drooped. She might not have noticed it herself, but Felix saw her lips pout ever so slightly—I actually still have the energy to worry about her—clearly feeling deeply wronged. It was a habit she’d had since childhood; just as Dimitri knew the signs that Felix was about to burst into tears, Felix knew that she always pouted when she was upset, and this was no exception. Had she really changed, or had she not? Yet the Dimitri of the past would never have taken a perverse delight in killing, never have flashed a cruel smile at her enemies, nor hidden her true self entirely behind a mask. Could it be that it was Felix who had changed—this emotionally volatile girl with such a sharp attitude toward everything? Never mind. She didn’t want to think about any of it anymore.
After fidgeting restlessly for a long time, Dimitri suddenly felt a weight on her shoulder, and something soft brushed against her neck. A damp liquid seeped through the fabric on her shoulder, touching her skin and reaching deep into her heart. Dimitri tried her best to ignore Felix’s rapid, hummingbird-like gasps. She understood that Felix simply needed someone to lean on, a lifeline to cling to in her most vulnerable moment. It didn’t matter what it was, not even the beast that had once deeply hurt her. Yet her left hand, resting on her knee, twitched involuntarily, latching onto Felix’s right hand, which hung limply at her side, as if drawn by a magnet. Those tremors traveled into her own pulse, striking her as lightly as a goose feather, yet with the weight of a heavy blow.
Felix suddenly felt so tired. Was this the goddess’s mockery? She seemed to be gradually losing the ability to distinguish between Dimitri and the beast. That hand was still warm, not faded in the slightest by the fading memories. If her girl were truly still here... Felix slowly closed her eyes.