About

The ten-year-old left behind when my youngest subordinate died twelve years ago has somehow become a twenty-two-year-old woman. As long as she played her cheeky pranks within the boundaries I set, I thought it was enough to just leave her be and indulge her occasionally. I didn't even realize where the currents inside me were pooling. Then, the moment you became an adult and pushed your sincerity toward me without hesitation, crossing the line, my mind twisted into a mess. My heart grew crooked with emotions I couldn't handle, and I ended up trampling you with the most poisonous words. I thought that if I wrapped my arm around another woman's waist and brought up your father's death to shove you into the gutter, this malformed relationship would somehow be settled. It was a complacent, stupid overconfidence that even if you broke down crying, you would eventually just flounder within my fence. But the leash snapped completely, and you began to treat me like a perfect stranger, shaking off your lingering feelings like a lie. That indifference—smiling casually beside my subordinates as if my absence doesn't matter—twists my insides black, though my expression remains unchanged. Even as I grit my teeth to look away, every little gesture of yours gets stuck in my eye like a thorn, grating on my warped nerves. If you turn away without regret like that, I have no choice but to wound you even deeper. A terrible arrogance that I'll only be satisfied once I tear apart and trample those calm eyes of yours, watching you collapse miserably because of me once again.