Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: False Picnic and Defiant Resolve
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Time flew by quickly. Nothing had changed.
"Anis, chocolate latte again?"
"...Yeah."
Daily life,
the novel,
"...Haa."
that phrase too.
Picnic day was tomorrow.
I went to the school store with Han U-sol and bought some snacks. Yoon Na-rin was face-planted on her desk in the classroom, sleeping.
I sat on a bench, holding a macaron in one hand and a chocolate latte in the other, swinging my legs.
Tomorrow was the picnic. My legs, buzzing with anticipation, swung even faster through the air.
"Picnic!"
"That exciting, huh?"
"Yeah. It's my first one."
The picnics from my previous life didn't really count as picnics. This was my first proper one in this world.
"Never been with your parents as a kid?"
"No parents."
"...Sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"Nah. It's fine. Doesn't bother me."
It really didn't. To me, parents were always the type who got drunk, flew into rages, and abused me. Not having them was way better.
Even though I said it was okay, Han U-sol kept apologizing, saying he'd messed up.
"Guess I'll go grab another macaron then."
"Haha, sure."
I ate the macarons Han U-sol bought on the way back to the classroom.
'Hmm. Ate a bit too many. Feeling full.'
After about ten, I started feeling sick of them.
Suddenly losing my appetite, I forced the rest on Han U-sol.
He grumbled but stuffed them down anyway.
"Anis, you seem in a good mood today."
"Picnic's tomorrow."
We were on our way back to the dorms after classes.
"What're we even gonna do at the cherry blossom festival?"
Yoon Na-rin replied indifferently, clearly unimpressed with the location.
"Look at the cherry blossoms."
"...That's it?"
"...That's the romance of it."
...Truth be told, I'd never been to a cherry blossom festival either, so I was just bluffing. Still, there had to be a reason crowds flocked there. Something fun would probably come up once we got there.
Anything had to be better than that otherworldly nightmare of an amusement park.
"Alright, Anis. See you tomorrow morning."
"Yeah. See ya."
I parted ways with Yoon Na-rin and headed to my dorm room.
'Can't wait.'
I lay down early for tomorrow but couldn't sleep from the excitement.
Of course, that phrase etched into the ceiling didn't help with my sleep either.
The next day arrived.
"Picnic!"
The moment morning broke, I bolted out of bed.
Having stayed up all night anticipating it, I left the dorm room right away, met up with Yoon Na-rin, and headed straight to the cherry blossom festival.
And now that we'd arrived...
"Move with a bit more pep in your step!"
A tall teacher with a bald head and an eyepatch over one eye shouted. It was Teacher Rockbell.
"Serving the citizens is a hero's natural duty! Do it with more sense of purpose!"
As the bald guy said that, the students' faces soured. Even the usually diligent Han U-sol was no exception.
'No... this... this isn't what I wanted...!'
One hand held a multi-tool tong, the other a trash bag.
We were currently in the midst of enthusiastically picking up trash around the festival grounds.
'What the hell is this...!'
Shouldn't a picnic mean gazing at falling cherry blossoms, sitting together on a mat, sharing lunchboxes, and chatting?
Why were we doing volunteer work under the false name of a picnic?
'This isn't a picnic...!'
They say betrayal hurts as much as the expectations built it up. Right now, I was on the verge of tears. It probably showed on my face too.
"Hey, you there! No slacking off and chit-chatting! Have some shame!"
Rockbell, that bald bastard, was even controlling students for talking while picking up trash.
'...Fuck. Bald asshole... what a prick.'
Bald guys were either saints or total wrecks—nothing in between. This teacher was definitely the latter.
At some point, Yoon Na-rin, Reisi, and Han U-sol had vanished from sight.
'Fuck... is this the story that fucker writer scripted?'
The guy I suspected sent me to this world.
The one tormenting me daily with the same phrase.
And the bastard who wrote this picnic episode like this.
'I'll kill him... seriously, kill him later...'
I'd been so looking forward to it... even brought cards to play poker on the mat.
As I grumbled and furtively picked trash to avoid the bald guy's eyes, a child's voice came from behind.
"Huh? It's the big sis who got the balloon down last time!"
It was the kid who'd been crying because her balloon was stuck in a tree on the way home from school before.
"Uh... hi?"
"Hi! Thanks for last time!"
"Sure."
Seeing the kid beam like that made my lips twitch up unconsciously.
She held a balloon in one hand today too, and her other hand gripped what looked like her mother's.
"Rena, who's this pretty big sis?"
"She helped me when my balloon got stuck in the tree!"
"Oh, really? Are you an aspiring hero by any chance?"
The kid's mom asked, eyeing my uniform.
"Uh... yeah."
"I see. Thanks for helping my daughter."
The mom smiled.
"...No big deal."
"Hehe, so humble. Rena, say thank you~"
"Thank you~"
With that, the kid and her mom waved goodbye and left.
Honestly, it felt good.
Was this what they meant by small good deeds bringing big joy?
It was a ticklish feeling I'd never experienced before.
If I could really become a hero...
"Well done, Anis Harper."
Rockbell approached—having overheard my chat with the mother and daughter from afar—and said,
"Becoming a hero starts with those small things."
"......Yeah."
Bald or not, he had a way with words.
"......"
I watched the mother and daughter walk away. The kid still clutched her balloon.
The balloon still had that phrase.
After that, the bald guy started paying extra attention to me, nagging nonstop.
"Anis Harper! Right there! Pick up every last bit, corner to corner!"
'...Shut up already.'
Seeing that phrase again had already soured my mood.
Every time the bald guy yelled, it got worse.
Fed up with his constant meddling, I slipped away from sight, heading deeper into the more obscure spots.
Deeper in.
More corners.
Deeper still.
The further in I went, the fewer people there were.
Deep.
Deeper.
Each step deeper dragged my mood down too.
The kid's mom's words echoed in my head.
Humility.
Knowing your shortcomings and humbly accepting those superior to you.
In other words, knowing your place.
More elegantly put:
Don't act above your station, you worthless shit.
People always regret it later.
Wish they'd been a bit more humble.
Known their place.
Kept their mouth shut.
It always showed up whenever I forgot to be humble.
Or, put differently, whenever I acted beyond my station, dreaming of happiness and excitement.
And I'd suffer seeing it.
Self-loathing for daring to wish for happiness.
Mocking myself for thinking a guy like me, not even from this world, could save its people.
A happy daily life unfit for my station.
The dream of being a hero, overreaching my place.
Whenever the phrase appeared, my days turned to self-flagellation and torment.
Things had improved a bit thanks to Yoon Na-rin, but it still tormented me.
In the eyes of the author who sent me here,
was I really acting that arrogant?
Was hoping for simple daily joys so unbecoming of me?
Was my wish to become a hero and save people truly too much?
If so,
would giving up here, staying in my place, make that phrase finally stop?
If I truly gave up everything...
......
......
...
.
"...Ah."
When I came to, I'd wandered so deep that not a soul was in sight.
A remote corner deep in the park. I looked around.
A filthy trash bin, overflowing from neglect.
And a weathered clock mounted on the nearby wall.
That was it.
Clunk. Roll roll.
An empty soda can tumbled from the bin to my feet.
Again.
Left alone once more.
Gloom filled my head.
What time was it?
Festival's backwater.
Standing alone at the innermost corner of that backwater, I stared at the clock.
Hour hand between 11 and 12. Minute hand at 10.
11:50.
Cracked glass.
Dust piled thick.
Thin cobwebs in spots.
An old clock no one maintained.
No one cared.
Just standing alone in the corner.
Just like me.
—Tick.
Yet the clock kept moving.
As if it didn't care about attention, fulfilling its duty with noisy seconds hand.
—Tick.
Lost in the ticking, soon the seconds hand lapped the hour and minute hands.
Not long after, it passed 12.
As the seconds hand crossed 12, the minute hand twitched. The hour hand followed suit.
Slowly, but steadily.
Doing its job.
No, you're different from me. You know what you have to do. Even if it's pathetic.
—Tick.
Now the hour and minute hands neared 12. They overlapped, waiting for the seconds hand.
—Tick.
The seconds hand swept over them. When it hit 12,
the minute hand twitched, the hour hand moved.
—Tick.
All hands pointed to 12.
———■■■!!!
And from afar came a magic beast's roar.
From the direction I'd come.
"...!? W-What!?"
As I panicked, an amplification spell blared across the park.
It was Teacher Rockbell's voice.
"......!"
I summoned my sword. As I tensed my legs to dash out,
my eyes caught the soda can at my feet.
More precisely, the phrase engraved on it.
"......"
What the hell are you trying to say?
Stay out of the story and just watch quietly?
No.
That's not it.
Why it shows now.
Daring to guess: a worthless piece of trash stuck in the sewer who suddenly wants to play hero—don't overstep.
So what it's telling me is:
In other words, know your place.
More elegantly: be humble.
...Maybe I should rest a bit.
I was truly exhausted now.
I didn't even know why I'd come to this world or what I was supposed to do. Hadn't I endured plenty already?
...Should I give up?
Strength drained from my sword-gripping hand bit by bit.
Then.
—Tick. The seconds hand moved.
—Tick. The minute hand twitched.
—Tick. The hour hand, slow but steady.
The clock was moving.
Unlike me, stopped still, it kept going endlessly.
...If it stops, its reason for existing vanishes.
Me too. If I stopped, it meant nothing.
No matter what, I'd sworn to live as I wanted.
"...No, fuck this."
Give up?
What the hell was I thinking?
It was just that bastard who dumped me here and kept shoving that phrase in my face who was the real asshole.
Is it wrong to wish for happiness beyond my lot?
Wrong to dream of saving people?
Is that arrogance?
"No."
—Crunch!
I stomped the soda can flat.
What was that 'place' anyway?
Was I doomed to misery?
No.
The ones doomed to misery were my abusive dad from before,
and you, who summoned me here and tortured me with that phrase.
To preserve the story's causality?
No.
I know that's not it.
"You just want to make me miserable."
"You just want to see me bawling my eyes out."
Grip. I tightened my hold on the sword.
"Fuck that. I'm gonna live my way."
I am.
I'm going to save the people in trouble.
—Clang!
I kicked the crushed can. It flew into the corner trash bin.
Don't try to control me.
Sword in hand, I charged ahead.