Surprisingly Bearable
What does a person need to live? A modern person would answer without hesitation: money. An imperial citizen might say honor or status. There might even be one last romantic in this era who would answer love. Ain Magnolia clearly belonged to that final category.
—Gurgle gurgle.
Yet here I was, in a dingy tavern tucked away in a back alley a few blocks from the grand plazas of Lumen, the heart of the empire. The place reeked of piss and was draped in cobwebs. What I needed right now was booze. Booze still costs money, you say? Yeah. I could always just kill myself. After regressing, my pockets had been refilled. The amount was still pathetic, but damn, was I grateful. If I drank myself broke, it was clearly a sign to off myself. Infinite energy source achieved. Please give a round of applause for the next Nobel Prize winner in science. Not like I could go back to the modern world anyway.
“Ugh. One more.”
I set the glass down on the bar and ordered another. How many was this now? I’d lost count after using my fingers. Of course, I was only counting with one hand.
The first obvious change after quitting being Ain: I could actually taste the alcohol now. After chugging enough in my past life to rot my tongue, what was this nonsense? Back then, whether it was cheap dwarf-beard-soaked barrel swill or a twenty-seven-year-old Bronzebeard whiskey worth dozens of gold coins per glass, as long as it got me blackout drunk, I didn’t give a shit. The drugs had gradually dulled my sense of taste anyway. I wasn’t touching that stuff ever again.
The inside of the tavern matched its exterior. A beggar with a voice like a saw on vocal cords loitered by the entrance, and the owner had the face of someone who had zero interest in doing business. That made three of us total. Not many people drink this early when the sun’s still high. From the way the ceiling had been creaking, there were plenty of rats, though. At least the noise from the plaza outside drowned them out. Lucky me.
I picked up the chicken leg on the plate and took a bite. Crispy skin, juicy meat. Washing it down with the honey-scented whiskey cleaned the grease right off. Wasn’t this basically sex and a happy ending? Since I’d gotten what I wanted, they could send me home already.
Depending on alcohol was the same as last time, but if I was going to do it, might as well go all out. I was drinking expensive stuff I’d never even glanced at before, fully intending to drink myself to death in this life.
—Creak.
The saloon door opened, flooding the place with sunlight I’d been avoiding. A chubby man with a flushed face, clearly already a few drinks in, stepped inside. He spotted me and shouted, “What the hell? Some fancy young master drinking in broad daylight? Hey, owner! You running this place right?”
I’d been thinking of making this my regular spot since it was close to home, but fuck, the place looked worse than a dog’s front yard. Never coming back.
The man ignored the empty seats and deliberately sat right next to me while I was still knocking back drinks. Wearing an Academy uniform and camping out in a tavern at this hour, I guess standing out was inevitable.
“When an adult’s talking, show some respect… Are all you young masters like this?”
The second obvious change: I’d become cheerful! I turned my empty sleeve and the scar around my eye toward the man who looked like a walking jar of desire and answered, “Try becoming a cripple yourself, you piece of shit. See if your personality doesn’t turn to garbage.”
Self-deprecating joke. One of the fastest ways to close the distance with a stranger. If they get pissed and charge, I just fight. I’d gotten good at handling unwanted provocations flexibly. In short, I didn’t hold back anymore.
The jar-man tapped the table with his fingers like he was annoyed, then spoke. “…I didn’t recognize a patriot. My mistake. At such a young age, tsk. Let me buy your next drink as an apology.”
Contrary to his appearance, the man had a surprisingly kind heart. He raised two fingers toward the owner to order. The wound that had only ever been mocked by highborn brats, never praised. Look at that. Change your attitude toward life and good things start happening already. Maybe living like this wouldn’t be so bad.
Well, I could live like this until the nightmares knocking on my door every night became unbearable, until I finally sliced my wrist with the knife on the table instead of steak, until my liver rotted like a specimen soaked in alcohol, until the family sent an assassin to erase every record of me and I vanished in a back alley without a trace, or until I picked a fight while drunk with some passing overpowered archmage and got roasted like the chicken on the plate. The ending was obvious either way. I’d given up optimism about the future a long time ago. The fact that even if I died, I’d just regress as a cripple again—that had been the biggest shock since realizing Santa wasn’t real back in elementary school.
‘The sadness back then was indescribable…. It was Dad in the Santa suit.’
While I was lost in melancholy, tilting my glass, a familiar shadow fell over the table.
“Why didn’t you go to school…? You’re even wearing the uniform…”
The voice clung to me like candy melted in sunlight. The shadow Ain had left behind.
“There’s going to be a student council meeting tomorrow about your disciplinary action…. You have to come…. Even if it’s just for my sake….”
A face that, aside from the eye color, shared no resemblance to mine no matter how hard you looked. Light blue hair neatly braided, wearing a perfectly pressed Academy uniform, a woman who looked completely out of place in this tavern. Iris Magnolia. My half-sister. Back when I was still under the family’s shadow, she was the one I believed was on my side without a doubt. The moment I was expelled, she was the first in the family to leave me.
The interest she’d shown me had only ever been pity and a sense of duty toward blood. Come to think of it, she’d named the stray cat she picked up Ain too. Haha. Crazy bitch.
When I stood up, the jar-man who’d been sitting next to me had already vanished. He must’ve gotten scared after seeing the magnolia embroidery on Iris’s clothes. She might’ve been the first friend I made besides Giselle. Even bought me a drink. Buying drinks makes you a good person, after all.
I pulled a few gold coins from my pocket and scattered them in front of the owner. “Keep the change. Buy your kids some snacks.”
“…? What kind of payment is this? Hey, hey! Don’t just leave!”
“Ugh…. I’m sorry…. I’ll pay the rest….”
Ignoring the owner’s cheers at my generosity and Iris’s voice calling after me, I walked out of the tavern.
“A-Ain. Wait a moment….”
But the candy stuck to my feet showed no sign of falling off. Before I knew it, Iris had caught up, walking two steps behind me.
“I’ll go tomorrow.”
I gave a half-hearted reply and turned the corner toward a sunny spot in the plaza. I pulled out a cigarette, lit it against the alley wall with a match. A thin ray of sunlight aligned perfectly with the cigarette tip, stinging my eyes. My vision, adjusted to darkness, blurred in the bright light. Through that haze, a shape I could never forget wavered.
“……”
“…So that’s why I said just for a moment.”
Iris let out a small sigh behind me. Stepping out of a carriage parked beside the fountain were a pair of cockroaches in human form. The man in the fur coat despite the season was clearly the rumored Northern Archduke. He opened the carriage door and extended his hand politely. The one who took it and carefully stepped out, with ivory-blonde hair, was Giselle.
Our eyes met. Just like always, the way I could recognize Giselle from miles away, she would surely recognize me at a glance no matter where we met. Her blood-red eyes trembled slightly the moment they met mine.
The Archduke, who had been escorting her, seemed to notice where her gaze was directed and quickly approached me. “Oh my. Look who it is. Isn’t this the empire’s most famous Torn Bastard? Can you even see where you’re going with that cripple eye? Huh?”
The perfect line to make me miss the drunk from the tavern. …Fucking hilarious. You need this level of eloquence to steal someone else’s woman so openly. On top of that, he’s cold to others but warm to his woman—that gap moe probably hits hard with the ladies. I’m jealous as hell.
But the downside of self-deprecating jokes is that they only work when aimed at yourself. When someone else does it, it’s just an insult.
‘He probably didn’t come out for a walk with protective magic on.’
I swung my remaining arm back and kicked the Archduke’s shin with all my strength. Leaving him flipping once in the air before face-planting, I walked toward Giselle.
Giselle was staring blankly at the empty roadside, not at the Archduke or me. With a smile on my lips, I muttered just loud enough for her to hear: “You should train your dog better, Giselle. I like the leash you put on the bitch, but it keeps barking.”
I passed Giselle and headed down the main road toward home. From one sunny spot to an even brighter one. At the end of the journey, there was nothing but my house, darker than a grave.
“Your punishment’s going to get worse….”
Iris’s small lament reached my ears as I left.
“…Run…. Nia…. In….”
I thought I caught a glimpse of Giselle’s lips moving. It had been so long since I last saw those lips open. It wasn’t my concern anymore, though.
The earlier commotion had drawn a crowd. I pushed through the wall of people. When someone bumped my shoulder, the cigarette that had been dangling from my dry lips went out.
Once I entered the quiet tree-lined path along the river, I lit a new one. The shade made walking easier. I followed the road down the hill for a long time until I reached our beloved home. Of course, neither “our” nor “beloved” could be found anywhere.
—Creak.
The door opened with the familiar sound that greeted its owner. I sat on the bed and spent a long time wrestling with my empty sleeve to take off the uniform. Why had I even put this on in the first place? Ah, right. I’d been planning to go to the Academy. But the throbbing in my arm had pissed me off, so I’d gone straight to the tavern instead.
I opened the window to air out the stuffy room, then went to the cupboard for booze and a glass. Thanks to Iris, my perfect plan to stay at the tavern all night had been ruined. It’s fine. The night is long. I can still drink properly from now on.
—Gurgle gurgle.
After filling the glass, I went into the bathroom to wash my face. Standing in front of the sink, I looked into the mirror, the source of all my rage. The cracked glass with clear signs of being struck perfectly reflected my feelings. Facing my unfocused reflection, I remembered another downside of self-deprecating jokes.
I could never become someone with a masochistic streak.