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Chapter 8
Just as Hagenti said, the water was warm.
The tears she had been holding back vanished instantly. Unable even to scream, Shasha flailed both arms helplessly in the air, while Hagenti cackled even more wickedly and snatched off her hat. Then, as if that still wasn’t enough, he began pouring water directly over the crown of her head, turning her sky-blue hair into dripping strands like soaked seaweed.
“How is it? Feels nice and cool, right? Isn’t this fun? Makes you want to keep going, doesn’t it? You wanna do this all day, right?”
“……”
Good heavens. Was this supposed to be playing together, or outright bullying…?
It inevitably reminded her of similar incidents back at the Academy. Her classmates dumping filth over her head. Young August patiently washing her foul-smelling hair over and over again.
And yet strangely, even while revisiting those memories, she didn’t feel the same humiliation or pain as before. The situation she found herself in now was simply so absurd and ridiculous that laughter burst out of her before she could stop it.
“…Huh?”
Hagenti’s eyes widened into perfect circles in shock.
“What? You could talk after all?”
Ah.
The instant she heard those words, Shasha hurriedly clamped both hands over her mouth.
She had made a foolish mistake.
‘Dear God….’
Did he hear me? How loud did I laugh?
Her heart pounded violently, cold sweat running down her back. She could feel dozens—no, perhaps hundreds—of eyes hidden within the noon shadows suddenly freezing in place and staring directly at her all at once.
“You laughed….”
A faint flush spread across the bridge of Hagenti’s nose as he murmured softly.
He stared at Shasha as though entranced, then suddenly threw the hose aside and spread both arms wide. Before she could react, he wrapped them around her waist and lifted her straight into the air.
“She laughed!”
H-Hagenti, wait…!
“Shasha laughed!”
Laughing brightly, Hagenti spun around and around in place.
Oh, God.
Her feet suddenly dangling above the ground, Shasha kicked helplessly while lightly pounding her fists against his shoulders. The world spun in bizarre directions around her, strange flashes of light flickering before her eyes.
This boy still seemed completely unaware of just how monstrously strong he was.
And equally unaware of just how terrible his wife’s sense of balance was.
Shasha was the type of person who sometimes tripped while climbing stairs for absolutely no reason. Unsurprisingly, the moment her toes touched the ground again, dizziness overwhelmed her. She staggered unsteadily before collapsing flat onto the ground.
Thud.
“Ah…!”
Only then did Hagenti realize he had gotten carried away.
“S-sorry.”
His face reddened in embarrassment as he reached out a hand to help her up.
As the water dried against her skin, the delayed chill finally crept over her. Reflexively, Shasha curled inward and avoided his touch.
And only a few seconds later did she realize how coldly she had reacted. Startled, she hurriedly lifted her head.
“……”
This time, it wasn’t an act.
Hurt, Hagenti looked down at her with eyes stripped completely of laughter.
Even knowing his mental age was only seven, the sight resembled the old Hagenti far too much. Shasha swallowed dryly. Then he brushed back his wet hair and let out a sigh, and it felt as though her heart sank half a finger’s depth lower.
“You know… sometimes I think Shasha is afraid of me.”
His whining tone pierced painfully into her chest. Kneeling down before her, Hagenti tilted his head with innocent curiosity.
“Why are you so scared of me?”
…Why?
The question was so pure that it almost felt cruel.
Looking at the transparent, innocent face of the boy before her, a sudden wave of sorrow surged up violently inside Shasha.
And you call that a question?
You hurt me. You ignored me. You paid a diamond to buy me like property, and whenever I failed to behave the way you expected, you treated me like a complete idiot.
She could list dozens—no, hundreds—of reasons.
In fact, there were so many reasons that divorce had seemed like the only way to solve everything at once.
But the child before her wouldn’t understand even one of them….
Not wanting to wound him under the excuse of satisfying his curiosity, Shasha chose silence instead.
“Shasha? Are you listening to me?”
When no answer came no matter how long he waited, Hagenti tilted his head and waved a hand through the air in front of her face. Shasha merely gave him a mechanical smile whose meaning even she herself didn’t understand.
And as she did, she thought:
Thank goodness I didn’t bring the notebook with me.
‘Adult’ Hagenti.
And ‘child’ Hagenti.
One man completely transformed by the direct weight of twenty years. To keep herself from being hurt carelessly, Shasha had begun teaching herself to think of Hagenti as two entirely separate people.
For one thing, the ‘adult’ Hagenti who had lived with Shasha had never once been sick.
Or perhaps he had simply suffered in secret, being the sort of man who hated showing weakness to others. Either way, in Shasha’s memories, he was like an iron man who never caught so much as a cold, even during the harshest winters.
And yet perhaps because his injured head had reverted even his body back to that of a seven-year-old, Hagenti ended up coughing all night after their water fight—
—even though Shasha had technically gotten soaked far more than he had….
When she heard he had developed a fever, Shasha’s heart nearly stopped. She worried something might go wrong with Hagenti’s memories again, but fortunately, a second disaster never came.
It really is like taking care of a delicate plant….
Remembering the previous night’s commotion, Shasha climbed the stairs while pressing a hand against her hungry stomach.
By the time she returned to the bedroom after spending the entire morning organizing manuscripts in the basement, half the day had already passed.
Despite how busy he was, Aiden had continued diligently preparing the divorce paperwork. Sitting on the sunny windowsill, Shasha examined the documents Aiden had left atop the piano while she was away.
At shortest, three months. At longest, one year.
That was the timeframe the lawyer had specified for most noble couples to become complete legal strangers after divorce.
Naturally, the more property there was to divide, the more complicated the process became. But Shasha had married without bringing a dowry, and everything—including the mansion itself—belonged to Hagenti, so there was little property for her to claim separately.
If Hagenti hadn’t become younger, we probably would have become strangers by now.
They had never married for love, yet whenever she imagined their separation, the three years they had spent together suddenly felt hollow and meaningless, leaving her feeling pitiful herself. Swallowing down the bitterness lingering on her tongue, Shasha slowly traced the lines of text with the tip of her pen as she read through the papers.
Still, when it came to money, Hagenti had apparently been generous. He had left several pieces of property in her name. Clearly, he intended for her to sell them and use the funds to maintain the opera house.
But while reading smoothly through the document, a deep crease suddenly formed between Shasha’s brows.
‘…Am I seeing this wrong?’
Strange. Why was Hagenti’s signature already there?
And not even his full formal signature—it had been shortened, exactly like a man genuinely standing on the verge of divorce.
There was no way a seven-year-old had read this and signed it…. Had Aiden written it himself?
But if that were the case, the signature looked far too natural. Anyone would think Hagenti himself had personally written it. Confused, Shasha lifted the papers toward the sunlight.
Knock knock.
A steady knocking sound broke through the silence.
Ah.
Shasha hurriedly clapped her hands twice, then intentionally busied herself fixing her clothes and hair.
After all, the guest they had been waiting for was finally arriving today.
“My lady.”
The moment Shasha opened the door, Bill smiled gently and gestured toward his own nose. For a brief moment, she failed to understand what he meant. Then her cheeks flushed red as she hurriedly rubbed the ink smeared across the bridge of her nose.
“Sir Windsor declined formal hospitality, so I brought him directly here.”
As Bill stepped aside, the figure who had been silently observing the situation from behind finally came into view.
And Shasha could not hide her astonishment.
‘Good heavens….’
People often described magic as a kind of “spiritual” ability.
Of the existing magicians in the world, half were born with innate talent and naturally came to wield magic once they accumulated enough knowledge. The other half, however, only managed to use magic after years of research and physical training.
That was why one person could become a magician at age five, while another might cast their first spell only moments before death.
Among magicians, the moment they cast their first magic was called “Opening the Eyes,” signifying awakening. They abandoned their original birthday and instead celebrated that day as their true birth.
Across the entire continent, only around three thousand magicians existed. And because their numbers were so few, their society was famously closed off.
Like bees, magicians lived bound within a strict hierarchy, sharing the same beliefs and customs. That was also why nearly all of them were skeptical of religion and deeply fearful of aging.
To avoid growing old, magicians deliberately halt the growth of their bodies at whatever age they personally consider ideal.
And Magician Windsor was no exception.
