I Became the Narrow-Eyed Character in the Little Prince Game

The world, meeting morning after breaking free from its once-impenetrable cage.
We stood beneath a dawn filled with light.

The building once known as the Apple Tree held no trace of its infamous past.
Only the soft crackling of fading embers and the ash strewn beneath them remained.
In a tomorrow that had erased today, a gentle day quietly breathed.

The story flowed onward.
“So, we’ve finally graduated—from that wretched nightmare.”
“Yeah… I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel real.”

“You say that after bawling your eyes out just moments ago?”
“…Shut up.”
“Oh dear~ No need to be embarrassed, you know.”

“You’d be less insufferable if you stopped running your mouth.”
“Isn’t that part of my charm?”
“Haa…”

Irene let out a sigh, clearly tired.
Having finally completed her long revenge, she had cried her heart out the night before.
Even across all the time we’d spent together, and all the scenes from the original game—

It was the first time I’d seen her emotions erupt like that.
—Ugh, Master… everyone… thank you…
Maybe it was the fever she’d been struggling with.

Her usual cool demeanor had vanished, and she just… sobbed, tears pouring freely.
Honestly, for a moment I wondered if Regia had possessed her.
Naturally, once she’d calmed down, she seemed utterly embarrassed.
I didn’t miss my chance to tease her.

“If you want, you’re welcome to cry anytime?”
“…Are you going to keep teasing me like this?”
“Well, it’s rare I get the chance. Lately, you’re so used to me that you don’t even react when I poke fun. I wish you’d be a little more responsive—maybe even take the lead, you know…”

“Hmm, is that so?”
Poke, poke—
Irene jabbed my chest with her finger.

Her slender fingertip lingered for a moment before tracing a slow circle over my shirt.
The ticklish movement was downright mischievous.
The corners of the fox’s lips curved up into a playful smile.

“You like the forward type, don’t you?”
“……”
Yeah. She wasn’t the one being teased anymore.

If anything, the roles were reversing.
A truly shameless fox.
“At this rate, I’m afraid you might try to devour your master too.”

“Better watch out. You never know when I might bare my fangs.”
“I’d better pray it won’t hurt.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

“You’re so impure.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Hmm… who’s to say?”

Low, teasing words passed between us.
And just like that, we stepped through the broken dawn into a brilliant morning.
From there, the aftermath of the incident was handled swiftly.

The merchant had met his end, and the forces under his control were being purged.
Thanks to support from the Emperor’s side again, we didn’t even have to worry about political backlash.
All we had to do was wait for the tomorrow walking steadily toward us.

“Hey, you know.”
“Hm?”
“Thanks. Always.”

“No need to say that between us.”
“Meeting you… it was one of the few miracles in my life.”
“That’s… embarrassing. But I treasure you as well, Miss Irene.”

“You think saying a few sweet lines makes up for the fact you’re always surrounded by other women?”
A little unfair, really.
I was about to argue back, but her index finger gently pressed against my lips.

Her cheeks, once pale, were tinged a faint red.
Irene whispered in a quiet, breathy voice.
“Yeah. It does.”

The moment was incredibly pure.
Like baby’s breath brushing past on a spring day.
“I’m really happy.”

Then came a radiant smile.
The fox was wrapped in pure white.
Maybe she’d finally given up on that ‘chic’ persona.

It was the kind of smile I could never have imagined on her before—dazzling, bright, a smile that proved her own dawn had arrived.
I found myself momentarily stunned.
“So… I’ll always stay by your side.”

No matter what happens.
That small vow held not the slightest tremble.
It simply colored the space around us, quietly, like the first light of day.

We held hands—fingers intertwined—and stepped together through our epilogue.
The warmth between our palms was vivid and real.
***

The merchant subjugation mission.
It had already been a week since then.
The seasons had shifted unmistakably toward spring.

Even the calendar was looking beyond spring, toward the lush greens of summer.
Night and morning continued to repeat across the world.
And so, on a certain flowing day—

“So? Where are we going?”
“You’ll find out soon.”
The fox followed the snake, being led somewhere unknown.

Using even spatial magic, we arrived at our destination.
Beyond the Empire, at a remote corner of the continent—
A peaceful rural village nestled in a quiet landscape.

“We’ve arrived.”
The boy whispered softly.
But his voice didn’t reach the girl.

Irene stood there, utterly blank, her mind elsewhere.
“……”
Even after all these years, she remembered.

No—in truth, not remembering would’ve been stranger.
It was the village where the foxes once lived, where she’d spent her entire childhood.
She had come home.

Chirp, chirp—
Only the sound of birdsong echoed nearby.
No one remained in the landscape that had fallen to ruin.

Perhaps it had been too long since anyone had set foot here.
The remnants of buildings were unmistakable, and the ground was overgrown with flowers and weeds.
Though time had clearly left its mark, this place still bore witness to old memories.

The fox stepped onto the land of her childhood.
For the first time in a very long while.
“……”

“How about taking a look around?”
Irene moved as if in a trance.
Her once-dull gaze gradually regained clarity.

Though all that remained were broken ruins, memories overlapped them like transparent paint.
Soon, the colors of the past began bleeding into the girl’s vision.
Only the soft sound of grass crunching underfoot echoed in her ears.

Rustle, rustle—
“……”
The streets she used to wander as a child.

The small pasture where animals once grazed.
The land where crops were grown.
The spot where the village hall had stood, and beside it, the brook that still hadn’t dried up.

And finally, the small cabin where she and her master once lived together.
Though it had vanished, it still existed in Irene’s mind.
Breathing always in the corners of her childhood.

“…Ah.”
To the girl, it was all a miracle.
To the fox, all those recollections were lingering attachments.

She thought she’d never return. She thought she had no right to.
And yet the past remained, as if it had always waited for her, like a letter unsent.
Emotions surged from within her chest.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
The boy spoke softly.
Then led her to the clearing behind the village.

And beyond that peaceful scene…
“…A graveyard.”
It was a small cemetery.

Maybe a hundred graves in total.
And atop those memorial stones, familiar names were etched.
The uncle who tended the pasture. The aunt who worked the fields. The village chief. The children who were just kids…

Names she had either forgotten or been forced to forget.
As Irene stood there, staring blankly, the snake approached quietly to offer an explanation.
His tone carried a trace of regret.

“Unfortunately, we weren’t able to recover everyone’s remains.”
There had been limits.
Some hadn’t died here—they’d scattered across distant places.

Only about half the village had been laid to rest here.
Even so, Irene couldn’t help but ask:
“How… did you…”

“Our agents are rather talented, you see. I asked those well-versed in search magic. It took a bit of time, but… in the end, I was able to show you this. I only regret that we couldn’t honor them with something better.”
“…Since when have you…”
“From the day we first met.”

The answer came as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The fox couldn’t bring herself to speak.
She only lowered her gaze.

And before her stood a single gravestone.
Engraved on its face was the name most familiar to her.
“The swordsman who longed for the night sky, the master who left behind a star.”
“Lakius rests here.”

Lakius.
Her master’s name, spoken again after so many years.
Her slender fingers curled tightly into a fist.

Faint echoes from the past whispered in her ears.
—Irene.
She felt like she might cry.

But she held it back.
She had vowed not to break, not to cry so easily anymore.
And so, standing before the star she’d finally reached, the girl looked to those who had once been her entire sky.

Those who accepted her as part of the world.
“Master…”
Irene bit down hard on her lip.

She carefully unraveled her honest feelings.
She released the weight on her heart, and let out the small self that had been hiding behind it.
To the one who wasn’t just her master—but the person who had raised her from childhood, when she was just an orphan.

Not a teacher of swords, but a guide through life.
For the first time, the girl called him—
“…Dad.”

Someday, she had always wanted to say that.
But she’d always fumbled it away, saying she was too embarrassed.
Only now could she finally speak those heavy words.

Even though he was no longer here.
“I promise.”
To the one she respected above all.

Words she wanted to leave behind as his daughter.
“I’ll be happy. I swear it.”
So please, worry no more about me—

The fox whispered into the blur of her vision.
There were so many more things she wanted to say.
But she couldn’t quite let them slip from her lips.

Because she knew, if even one word escaped, her whole heart might pour out with it.
Instead, Irene simply let the shimmer gather at the corners of her eyes.
And offered a quiet, faint smile.

Even that alone made for a beautiful scene.
“Please… rest well.”
Her final words, barely spoken through trembling breath.

The fox offered her whole prayer.
That, at the end of this long and thorny road, she would find happiness.
That she would become a daughter, a student, who brought him no shame.

A single line of water traced down her cheek.
“……”
The snake watched the fox in silence.

Remaining by her side, wearing a gentle, aching smile.
***
Elsewhere—

The cultist assembly, Baob.
Figures in blood-red robes held a brief meeting.
The topic: the consecutive collapse of allied factions.

From the highest seat at the round table, a shadowed figure spoke.
“So… after Vanity, now Greed has fallen as well.”
“There is nowhere left to retreat.”

The aide responded calmly.
The shadow on the high seat glanced at the empty chairs around him.
“So many have died.”

The Seven Apostles of the Demon God.
Marionnette, the Puppeteer.
Gardien d’une tombe, the Gravekeeper.
And last time, Peintre, the Painter.
Three Apostles eliminated in just a single year.

No matter how one looked at it, the situation was dire.
And yet, the shadow only smiled.
“Do not worry.”

A voice full of ominous conviction.
Its eerie resonance spread like smoke.
“Soon, He shall descend upon this world. Apostles, prepare yourselves.”

The round table, soaked in blood.
The Apostles all rose in unison.
The blood-red air signaled that calamity was near.

The shadow offered a twisted prayer toward an inverted cross.
A truly {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} cursed evil.
“For a new world—and the death of ■■■■.”

A flickering sin.
Evil was preparing for its final war.