PBGS 26

chapter 26

The day was overcast. For some time now, Ananta hadn’t even gone out to the bow.

The inner windows of the captain’s cabin were tightly shut, and no sound came from inside.

While preparing the meal as usual, Rinka paused and glanced once more toward the captain’s cabin.

Strange. Normally, he would have come up to her, tossing out a few jokes.

“Looks like the captain isn’t feeling well today.”

But the crew, even as they ate, showed little concern.

As if this happened all the time.

The only one who paid close attention was Rinka.

“Yeah, he does this from time to time. The further west we sail, the worse it gets… If you go into the captain’s cabin, he’ll get angry, so you’d better be careful too, Rinka.”

She’d heard the stories, but she couldn’t just leave it. Rinka slipped into the captain’s cabin and carefully knocked on the inner door.

“Captain?”

No answer.

She tried the knob, but it was locked.

What should she do?

She didn’t want to just wait outside.

She knocked two or three more times, but still no response.

No choice, then.

With her fingertips, she slowly gathered the droplets of water in the air, shaped them, and slipped them into the keyhole. Inside, the droplets molded into the shape of the key.

Click.

The door opened easily.

The room was dark. All the curtains were drawn, and on the bed lay a silver figure.

Ananta.

He was lying still, the blanket pulled up to his shoulders, but cold sweat beaded his forehead.

“…Ananta?”

As Rinka approached cautiously, he cracked his eyes open. His gaze was unfocused, and his breathing slightly labored.

“Are you all right?”

“…Somewhat. I thought I locked the door.”

So he had.

But Rinka didn’t think it was worth answering, and held her tongue.

His voice was low and hoarse, stripped of its usual cheerfulness.

Quietly, Rinka took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow.

He closed his eyes slightly under her gentle touch, as if the warmth alone could help him endure the pain.

Looking down at him, Rinka felt her chest swell with a tender ache.

She had never seen him like this before. Strong, free, a man who seemed as though he could never be defeated—yet here he was, so fragile.

“Are there days like this?”

“Sometimes.”

Ananta gave a faint smile, though his face was still pale.

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine after a day.”

“If this happens every time… then it isn’t nothing.”

Rinka knelt by the bed and softly took his hand. The pale back of it trembled faintly.

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“Food?”

“During this time, I don’t need it.”

Strange words. During this time, I don’t need it?

But Rinka didn’t press for answers. She simply nodded.

“Then I’ll stay here. Call me if you need anything.”

The words surprised even herself. Startled, she lowered her gaze.

It had come out naturally.

But she didn’t want to take it back. Because she truly wanted to stay by Ananta’s side while he was in pain.

His hand, his warmth, this very moment—

She wanted to spend them all by his side, carried by a strange impulse.

Ananta looked at her quietly. Countless emotions flickered in his gaze.

Gratitude. Regret. And…

Suspicion?

But that quickly vanished without a trace.

He only clasped her hand lightly.

Her warm hand felt like the only anchor tying him to this world.

Outside, the waves still roared, but inside the captain’s cabin, it was utterly calm.

Rinka stayed by his side until he drifted back to sleep.

It was the first time she had ever watched over someone like this. Deep within her, a small resolution began to grow.

She wanted to make sure he wasn’t alone.

To be sick every year, with no one to worry for you… it was too sad.

After her mother passed away, whether she was sick or wept in loneliness, Rinka had always been left alone. She knew that sorrow too well.

So…

Even amidst the pain, she wanted him to feel less lonely, to know someone was beside him.

Whether it was compassion or something deeper, she didn’t yet know. But one thing was certain: her feelings weren’t a lie.

Morning light trickled faintly through the captain’s window.

The sound of waves was gentle, and the muffled bustle of the deck drifted in.

Rinka sat quietly on a chair beside the bed.

After checking that the sweat on his brow had dried and tidying the blanket, she was gazing at the sleeping man when—

“…How long have you been here?”

A raspy voice brushed her ear. Rinka startled, lifting her head.

His eyes opened slowly. They were still a little unfocused, but looked better than yesterday.

“You… just woke up?”

“Still tired. Why stay here instead of sleeping in your own bed?”

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, then tried to sit up, only to grimace as a headache struck again.

“Don’t push yourself.”

Rinka reached out and gently pressed his shoulder back.

“You’re still pale.”

Ananta gave a faint, bitter smile.

“I didn’t mean to show you this side of me.”

“…‘This side’? People get sick. That’s normal.”

“Yes, if they’re people.”

He lay back again, eyes closing, then after a pause spoke softly toward her.

“Rinka.”

“What is it?”

“…Thank you. For staying with me.”

It had been so long since anyone had stayed by his side that it felt strange, and yesterday he hadn’t been able to say it.

Opening his eyes again, he smiled faintly. His blue eyes curved gently, silver lashes rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

The scene was so beautiful, like a painting, that Rinka found herself speechless, struggling to quiet the sudden pounding of her heart.

Damn it… who knew I’d be weak to a sickly handsome man.

Come to think of it, Mackered Kether had been a little like this too.

Not that she had ever liked that bastard. Absolutely not.

Rinka shook her head slightly.

“If you get sick again, I won’t let it slide.”

“Mm.”

Ananta slowly turned toward her and stretched out his hand. Their fingers brushed, then intertwined. His touch was cool.

“But next time I fall ill, don’t stay with me.”

“How could I not?”

Rinka answered softly.

“I just… want to.”

At that, Ananta’s eyebrows twitched.

He fell silent.

Rinka wished her words would blow away like a passing breeze, but instead they sank deep, knocking gently at his heart.

“You really are kind, Rinka.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t say that.”

Rinka’s voice was firm.

“It’s not kindness. It’s concern. Even if it weren’t you, I would’ve helped. If it were a stray puppy on the street, I’d still—what are you smiling about?”

Ananta laughed, realizing she was rambling. His usual playful grin returned.

Rinka knew too. No one else on this ship could occupy her thoughts the way Ananta did. But she didn’t want to admit it.

Because… admitting it wouldn’t change anything.

Ananta studied her face. Her gaze was quiet, steady.

Golden eyes that did not look at him with pity.

They held emotions he neither wanted to know nor dared to understand.

He turned his head away.

With a breath—half sigh, half laugh—he gripped the edge of the blanket tightly.

“Don’t worry. It won’t last long.”

“I hope so.”

“Keep holding my hand. I think I’ll get better faster that way.”

“Always with your tricks…”

Even as she scolded him, Rinka tightened her grip.

The chill in his fingers slowly warmed to match hers.

Rinka held her breath for a moment. And thought—

She wanted to remember this moment.