Chapter 63, Hal’s Confession

Translator: Barnnn

 

[Why?]

 

That single word echoed in Ize’s mind.

 

[Why did he notice?]

[Why a dress?]

[Why now?]

 

“Ize.”

 

Before she had even processed his approach, Hal’s hands — warm and steady — enfolded her own cold, motionless fingers.

 

“Ize, look at me.”

 

She heard him. Yet her body remained frozen, locked in place by a tension she couldn’t shake.

 

Hal let out a sigh, shifting his weight. “Guess I’ve got no choice, huh?” And with that, he crouched lower, settling directly into her line of sight.

 

“C’mon, Ize. What’s with that face?”

Her lips parted before she even realized she was speaking. “…Why?”

“Why what?”

“This…”

“Miss Etta told me. She mentioned that everyone dresses up for the Coming-of-Age Ceremony.”

“But this–”

“Just unfold it, will you?”

“Huh?”

“Go on.”

 

Hesitant, her fingers barely obeying her, Ize pinched the fabric between trembling fingertips and lifted it. The lace spread out, soft and airy, the pale blue fabric catching the light. But as she unfurled it fully, another color surfaced — a deep green trim along the hem.

The moment she saw it, a memory came rushing back, crisp and vivid.

 

–Ichikawa Izumi, jersey number thirteen!

–Yes!

 

The memory of the first uniform she had ever been handed as a starter.

Ize’s breath caught. She stared down at the dress again. The same shade of blue. The same green accents.

 

“Did you…”

“You showed me your stuff when we checked through our bags, remember?” Hal said, watching her reaction. “I had to go off memory, so it’s probably not exact, but…”

“No… no, it’s the same. Exactly the same.”

“Oh. That’s good, then.”

 

With a quiet exhale, relief softened the expression on Hal’s face.

Ize blinked rapidly, trying in vain to clear the heat welling behind her eyes.

 

“Hal… you knew?” Her voice barely reached above a whisper. “Since when?”

“Will you promise not to get mad if I confess something?”

“…I already know the answer.”

“Figured as much.” He chuckled, albeit a bit sheepishly. “Yeah. Since the beginning.”

“With your Eyes of Appraisal?”

“Didn’t even need it.”

“But… the way you called me…”

“Huh?”

“Back then, you called me ‘Ichikawa-kun.’ I thought you assumed I was a boy.”

“Oh. That…” Hal hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I was over thirty before coming here, all right?”

“Yes, I know.”

“And then suddenly, a junior high girl appeared in front of me.”

“Right.”

“I had no idea how to address you. ‘Ichikawa-chan’ felt way too familiar. ‘Ichikawa-san’ was too formal — I’m not a teacher.”

“Makes sense.”

“And back at work, I called my juniors ‘-kun’ regardless of gender, so…”

“So that’s why?”

“Yeah. Sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“No, it’s…” Ize exhaled, her gaze dropping to the fabric still draped in her hands. “I never corrected you, either. It felt like I missed the best time to bring it up.”

 

At her words, Hal grimaced — guilty, like there was more he had yet to admit.

 

“Hal?” she murmured, a small smile creeping onto her lips. “Spill everything.”

“Ugh. Fine.” He rolled his eyes but relented. “I kind of… realized you knew I knew. But I didn’t say anything.”

“Why?”

“…Because it was more convenient for our journey.”

“I figured.”

 

A deep sigh left Ize’s lips, but there was no sharpness to it, no edge of frustration. Just quiet understanding.

As much as she had wrestled with the truth, Hal’s reasoning was solid. In an unfamiliar world, traveling as a boy would always be the safer option. And back when she had known nothing about Hal — when she had been alone, uncertain, and wary — maintaining the disguise had made conversations easier, interactions smoother.

It had been a shield of convenience, protection, and distance — and by now, it had become so normal that she hardly even thought about it anymore.

 

“One last question.”

“Go ahead.”

 

For some reason, Hal straightened his back, his posture suddenly rigid. Sitting there on the floor, his expression deadly serious, he looked almost comical. Ize had to bite back a laugh before she finally asked,

 

“Is it really okay for people to know I’m a girl now?”

“I think so.”

“Why?”

“We’re already confirmed as D-rank adventurers. No one’s going to mess with us. And after your Coming-of-Age Ceremony, we’ll be leaving Jasted in, what, two months at most? It won’t matter by then. Oh, actually — on the road, I’ll still ask you to dress as a guy. For safety’s sake.”

“That’s fine.”

“But… More than anything… I wanted you to have a proper ceremony.” Something in his voice had changed. He wasn’t just talking about practicalities anymore. “I got to come of age twice. Back in Japan, I wore a matching hakama with my idiot friends and went to the ceremony together. And then, in this world, in the Royal Capital, the Goddess blessed me.” A small, wistful smile tugged at his lips, a flicker of nostalgia crossing his face. “Thinking about all that made me wonder — what about you, Ize? You should’ve had four more years. Four whole years before adulthood. Instead, you got thrown into this world, torn away from your family and friends. Before you even got your bearings, a stranger asked you to run away with him. You fought battles you never should have had to fight, faced your trauma head-on, and pushed through all of it. You didn’t get a choice. You were forced to grow up too fast.”

 

Ize’s throat tightened. She wanted to brush it off. Shrug it away with a joke, a halfhearted “It wasn’t that bad.” But something in her chest stirred — something raw, something long buried. And for the first time, it felt seen.

Still, she couldn’t let Hal carry this weight. Their journey had never been a burden, not to her. She shook her head repeatedly, almost like a spoiled child.

 

“Hal, this isn’t something you need to worry about

“But I can’t not worry. I relied on your resilience more than you realize. It helped me, too.”

 

Ize blinked. She had never once imagined that she had influenced him — that someone like Hal, someone much older, so much more experienced, had leaned on her in any way.

Hal looked slightly embarrassed but pressed on.

 

“The other day, you hesitated to cut your hair. I had a feeling I knew why, but… was it because you stopped playing basketball?”

“Yes.” She exhaled, the admission leaving her in a slow breath. “I’d always kept it short since the day I decided to take the sport seriously. When I realized I could never play again, I thought… I’d like to grow it out.”

“I see… That’s not something you could have said if you still wanted to keep pretending to be a boy. I should have noticed sooner. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Hal took a deep breath, his voice turning lighter. “I asked Miss Etta about how people celebrate the Coming-of-Age Ceremony. And I spoke to some of the other female adventurers, too. Most of them told me the same thing — dress up, put on makeup, receive flowers or gifts, and finish the day with a nice meal shared with family.”

 

The idea of Hal — Hal, had more common sense than most but still got tripped up by unexpected details — asking around about something as unfamiliar to him as this… She could almost picture how hard it had been. All the awkward phrasing, the polite but confused reactions.

 

“After hearing that,” Hal said, voice quiet but certain, “I realized I wanted you to experience your ceremony as yourself. Not as the Ize you’ve been pretending to be, but as you truly are.” His eyes met hers again, steady and unyielding, full of quiet conviction. Then his gaze flicked to the dress still resting in her hands. “Remember when I went out with Kenis’ team? They helped me pick this out for you.”

“The day you helped with appraising?”

“Yeah. The two girls are good friends with you, too, so I figured they might already know. Turns out, I was right. When I asked for their advice, they were happy to help. Really happy, actually. Also… they offered to do your hair and makeup, if you wear it tomorrow.”

Ize blinked. “Miss Elene and Miss Odelya…?”

“That’s right.”

 

Her cheeks burned. So they had known all along — It was an odd feeling, part embarrassment, part warmth. She had been so careful, so certain that no one had caught on, yet they had. And instead of exposing her or teasing her, they had simply chosen to keep her secret. To quietly support her in their own way.

And it wasn’t just them. This — this dress, this moment, the very idea that she could have a ceremony here — was only possible because of Hal.

 

“For now… I still want to be ‘Ize, the little brother.'”

“That’s fine.”

“But tomorrow… I’ll be ‘Ize, the girl.'”

Hal’s face lit up, his entire expression softening with relief. “Yeah.” Then, to her surprise, he grinned. “Thank you.”

Ize let out a short, incredulous laugh. “I should be the one thanking you. Why do YOU look so relieved?”

“Honestly?” Hal scratched the back of his head. “I was terrified you’d find it creepy that I picked out a dress for you, or that you’d flat-out refuse to wear it.”

She smirked. “That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

 

To prove her point, she reached into the bag and pulled out the rest of the carefully chosen pieces — a cardigan, hair accessories, a pair of boots. She laid them out one by one, taking her time. She had never received a gift that made her this happy. Not even from her parents.

 

“Thank you, Hal. The ceremony is tomorrow, but I think I’ll remember today forever.” She turned back to him, smiling, her eyes shimmering with something she couldn’t quite name. “By the way… you should really get back on your chair. You look like you’re scolding me.”

“I would if I could.”

“Huh?”

“My legs…” He let out a slow, defeated sigh. “They’re completely numb.”

 

Then, with a dramatic groan of pure agony, his suffering echoed through the small room.

Ize clamped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking, but she didn’t move to help. Thanks to her Stealth ability, no one outside heard his pitiful cries. He writhed on the floor for several long minutes, his face contorted in pain, until at last, sensation returned to his limbs.

Later, Hal would claim — with absolute certainty — that, at the very moment he admitted his legs had gone numb, Ize’s expression had been so mischievously smug that even the Cheshire Cat himself would have given it a perfect score.