The silence after their battle with the creature was heavy, like a cloud that weighed on their every step. Viole walked ahead, his violet eyes fixated on the path before them. The tension between the group was palpable, and despite their victory, it felt like something had shifted.
Yoru and Bubble trailed behind, their expressions unreadable. Alisa kept pace with Viole, glancing at him from time to time. She could sense the storm brewing inside him, the way his shoulders were rigid, the way he hadn’t said a word since their fight. It was unlike him, and that worried her more than the monsters they had faced.
"Viole," Alisa finally broke the silence, her voice soft but firm. "We need to talk."
He didn’t stop walking, didn’t even look at her. "About what?"
Alisa quickened her pace to stand in front of him, forcing him to halt. "About you. About what happened back there."
Viole’s jaw clenched, his gaze narrowing. "We won. That’s all that matters."
"That’s not all that matters," Alisa insisted, her eyes searching his for some sign that he was listening. "You’re shutting us out. You’ve been doing it ever since we started climbing, and it’s getting worse."
Behind them, Bubble and Yoru exchanged worried glances. They knew something was off, but neither of them dared to interrupt. This was a conversation that had been a long time coming.
"I’m not shutting you out," Viole said through gritted teeth. "I’m protecting you. There’s a difference."
"Protecting us?" Alisa’s frustration bubbled to the surface. "You think carrying everything on your shoulders is protecting us? You’re not invincible, Viole! You can’t keep doing this alone."
Viole’s eyes flashed with anger, but beneath it was something else—fear. "I have to. You don’t understand—"
"I do understand!" Alisa cut him off, her voice rising. "I understand more than you think. But you’re pushing us away. How are we supposed to be a team when you won’t let us help you?"
Viole stared at her, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She was right, and that only made his frustration grow. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to acknowledge the cracks in his armor.
Yoru stepped forward, his voice calm as always. "Viole, she’s not saying this to attack you. We’ve all seen what you’re going through. We’re your allies, not your burden."
Bubble, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. "Yeah, boss. We get that you’re strong, but… we’re strong too, in our own ways. You don’t have to do this all by yourself."
Viole’s heart tightened at their words. He looked at them—at Yoru’s calm resolve, at Bubble’s bright but worried eyes, at Alisa’s determined expression—and felt the weight of his isolation like a physical pain. These people had fought by his side, bled with him, and yet he had kept them at arm’s length, afraid to let them in.
"I…" Viole began, his voice faltering for the first time. "I’ve been betrayed before. By people I trusted. It’s not something I can forget."
Alisa’s gaze softened, her anger melting into understanding. "We’re not them, Viole. We’re not going to betray you."
"How can you be so sure?" Viole asked, his voice raw. "How can I be sure?"
"Because we’ve been through hell together," Yoru said quietly. "We’ve faced death, fought impossible battles, and we’re still here. You don’t need to carry everything alone anymore."
Bubble stepped forward, a rare seriousness in her usually cheerful voice. "We’re a team, Viole. You need to start trusting us."
The silence that followed was thick with emotion. Viole felt the weight of their words, the truth that he had been trying so hard to avoid. For so long, he had believed that relying on others would only lead to pain, to betrayal. But now, standing here with these people who had fought by his side, who had risked their lives for him, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t have to carry the burden alone.
"Alright," Viole said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll try."
Alisa smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing. "That’s all we’re asking for."
Bubble’s grin returned, wide and infectious. "Finally! Took you long enough, boss."
Yoru nodded, his expression calm but approving. "It’s a start."
Viole let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The cracks in his walls were still there, but maybe they didn’t need to be fixed. Maybe they were a sign that he was human, that he didn’t have to be perfect. For the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of hope—not just for the climb ahead, but for the people beside him.
As they continued their ascent, Viole found himself walking not ahead, but with his team. The Tower still loomed above them, its challenges growing more dangerous with every floor, but for the first time, Viole didn’t feel like he was climbing it alone.
And somehow, that made all the difference.