Blood Relation
“Blaaargh!! Bleeegh!!”
I’ve been puking since early morning, but it’s not because I’m welcoming this surprise visit. I just drank myself stupid until dawn, tongue twisting with every shot, and now the hangover’s trying to kill me.
After cleaning up the sink and myself, I drag myself to the closet and pull out the uniform that makes me want to heave all over again. Taking it off took forever; putting it on takes just as long.
Stepping outside, the cold wind still blowing hits my cheek. If yesterday had gone according to plan, I’d be sprawled in some tavern right now, not giving a damn how the world turns. The road to the Academy runs in the exact opposite direction of the taverns.
Students in the same uniform hurry toward the same place. Cigarette dangling from my lips, I follow behind them, chuckling to myself. I can’t remember the last time I visited the Academy in the morning. Hell, visiting at all feels rare. When was the last time I smashed a window after drinking all night?
Past the dorms and heading for the main building, a familiar face greets me.
‘With that hand of yours, you couldn’t even hide under Giselle’s skirt anymore, could you? Biyeongsin.’
The Academy’s resident troublemaker, the mischievous little shit Max, walks over with a greeting.
“Where you off to in such a hurry? If you’re looking for Giselle, she’s not here yet, unfortunately.”
“Head’s killing me, so shut your mouth and fuck off.”
We trade the usual crude banter between close acquaintances and walk shoulder to shoulder. Max has plenty of friends thanks to that sickeningly friendly personality of his. The three or four guys surrounding us now are part of that crowd.
“Ain, Ain. Just Ain now. Not Magnolia anymore. Air’s different up there, right? How’s it feel to become a commoner?”
Max harbors a deep grudge against the privileged elites of this rotten, classist society. The proud red blood of the working class flows through him, perfectly matched with his massive frame and equally massive fighting spirit. In short, he’s a fucking asshole. The kind of rootless thug you see everywhere.
‘Come to think of it, this bastard couldn’t dodge the conscription draft either.’
I want to tell Max honestly. I deeply sympathize with his ideology. I want every bastard sucking honey off their family name to drop dead too.
Max’s mother must have poured every coin she scraped together over more than a decade—working herself to the bone, sweat and blood—into his tuition. The only way a commoner gets into the Academy is through lobbying, after all. She literally bled for her golden child.
Look at this piece of shit again. How the hell did someone that decent give birth to this bastard? Hint: Max’s mother worked the same job as my late mother.
“You hurt your mouth instead of your eye? Why’re you mumbling? You ready to get expelled?”
“Ready to fuck your mom, looks like…”
Clearly still not sober. My defense mechanism, cherry-picking only the worst words floating in my foggy head, just spat out a vicious “your mom” joke that would scar the fragile Max.
‘Shit, that was way too harsh. Feels kinda bad now that it’s out.’
“…What?”
Max and his crew all look like they misheard. For now, confusion seems to outweigh anger. Ah, it’s about to explode.
“Y-you-you son of a bitch!!”
“Son. Is that any way to talk to your new dad?”
I’m a pathetic clown. Max, forgive this useless friend for clinging to a failed joke.
A minor scuffle broke out—the kind common among guys our age. Boys fight with fists when they grow up, what can you do.
. . .
Clutching my throbbing, swollen mouth, I head for the student council room. Eyes stab at me from every direction as I climb the stairs and walk the halls of the main building. I take a couple breaths in front of the door before knocking.
—Knock knock.
“Come in.”
Even disciplinary hearings are just simple procedures here. I just hated the stiff atmosphere and authoritarian attitude.
Inside are the bespectacled president, the secretary, a teacher, and Iris, the treasurer. Iris, seated, gives me a tiny wave hidden from the others. The teacher in the corner doesn’t even glance my way, just stares at the pocket watch in his hand.
“Have a seat.”
I sit in the chair prepared in the center. The hard feel of it matches the air in here and does nothing to put me at ease.
The president frowns deeply.
“Ain Magnolia, student of this academy…”
“Just Ain now.”
“I heard the disownment process still has steps left.”
Can you really call it a “process” when you’re just nodding along while stuffing food you can’t swallow down your throat and enduring every kind of contempt in your ears, all while facing faces you don’t want to see?
“Then, Ain. First, regarding the disturbance in the plaza yesterday. The person to whom you showed such rudeness is a distinguished guest invited in the name of the Empire. Are you aware of that?”
“I didn’t know their position. But even if I had, I would’ve done the same. That’s not the only reason you called me here, is it?”
The president’s eyebrow twitches once. Iris’s face turns deathly pale in an instant. She crosses her hands on her lap into an X and shakes her head frantically.
“Frequent absences, property damage, and now we’ve just received word of an unprovoked assault on a fellow student.”
Max, you little shit. I’m disappointed you’d snitch on a friend over a bit of roughhousing.
“According to academy policy, the punishment will be decided in due course, but you should prepare yourself for severe disciplinary action.”
“If you’re done talking, can I leave?”
Iris looks ready to foam at the mouth, trembling. After a small deep breath, she stands and speaks. Her yellow eyes—same as mine—glint like a cat’s from the shadows.
A cold voice fills the room.
“The rumors circulating about Ain are nothing but gossip. Disownment? Severance? Do you truly believe the proud Magnolia family would cast out their only son, Mr. President? When carrying out the procedures, please do not forget that Ain Magnolia remains under our family’s protection.”
“Ain himself acknowledged the disownment, didn’t he?”
Iris narrows her eyes and glares at the president. The gaze is sharper and deeper, as if making up for the squint.
“My foolish little brother must have made a mistake. I trust you won’t nitpick over a minor slip of the tongue.”
This is how the Iris who stutters and can’t even speak properly in front of me managed to snag the important position of student council treasurer. That must be the mask. Her real self is the one who trails off and makes people’s blood boil. I’m always impressed by that skill.
“…We’ll take it into consideration when deciding the punishment.”
Once the president backs down, Iris leans back in her chair again. She still hasn’t relaxed, keeping her expression and posture perfectly composed.
The president’s handling of the situation is correct. No matter your position at the Academy, there’s nothing to gain from throwing your weight around in front of a noble house.
Ah, Max. I miss that simple, stupid courage of yours. Even if they protect you like this, they’ll be the first to turn their backs when the family finally kicks you out.
The image of Iris flipping her attitude like a switch and abandoning me when I was desperately trying to borrow a hand flashes through my mind.
“We’ll contact you with the details later. You may go.”
With the feeling of saying goodbye to this hierarchical atmosphere, I quickly close the door behind me. Lighting a cigarette against the hallway wall, I hear the door open and Iris follows me out.
Once out of others’ sight, she immediately softens.
“H-how could you say that, Ain… You scared me…”
“We’re done, right? I’m leaving.”
“W-wait a second…”
“Wait, wait, wait— I’m busy.”
The Empire’s hidden taverns are waiting for my visit today. The place I went yesterday was a bust. Time to find a new one.
“Uh, you’re going drinking anyway, right…?”
“Bingo. If you get it, let go of my wrist.”
Iris has somehow gotten right next to me and grabbed my hand. Why are all these magic users so weak when they don’t even exercise?
“Th-then… won’t you have lunch with me…?”
“No thanks. Unless you’re buying the drinks.”
“Haa… Fine…”
“…? Fine what?”
“I’ll buy you drinks… But I get to pick the restaurant… Is that okay?”
I shake off my captured wrist and check my wallet. Empty as usual.
“Why aren’t you leading the way? Lunch is gonna pass us by.”
. . .
Suicide is always an option, but that doesn’t mean I’m turning down free drinks. Suddenly, I feel a strange closeness to Iris. Nothing beats blood relations, after all. Yeah, right.
The restaurant we arrive at isn’t the shady alley I usually frequent, but a bright place overlooking the river from the window. Thanks to that, the atmosphere between us brightens up too—absolutely not.
I silently sip my drink while Iris diligently cuts her cutlet with fork and knife. Just looking at the knife makes the pain from the final moment of my previous life feel vivid, like it happened just now.
Living with suicide on my lips doesn’t mean I have masochistic hobbies. If anything, I’m sick of pain—whether internal or external. That’s probably one reason I didn’t bother refusing Iris’s offer. If things get bad, I won’t hesitate to die, but if I can keep eating, living as long and thin as possible might not be so bad. Though I probably only have a few months left anyway.
“D-does it suit your taste…?”
“Yeah. The sweet flavor’s just right. Want a sip?”
“Ah, no… I have to go back to the Academy…”
There were times when that autistic speech impediment of hers felt endearing. Maybe because Ain’s childhood was especially bleak, Iris’s occasional acts of charity sometimes soaked into my heart like spring rain. Since I was an only child in reality, the sisterly kindness I never received was welcome.
Let’s throw that sense of closeness I felt walking into the restaurant into the river outside the window. I focus only on the alcohol in front of me and enjoy this pointless time.
“A-Ain… I have something to tell you…”
“That’s rare. I don’t want to hear it.”
“W-why do you have to talk like that… You’ve… changed so much lately…”
Is it because of the half-year gap, or because I quit being ‘Ain’? From Iris’s perspective, maybe I’m the one who flipped my attitude like a switch.
“…Say it.”
“…Won’t you ask Father for forgiveness?”
“……”
What kind of answer is Iris hoping for when she asks me that?
“Forgiveness for what?”
“N-no… It’s not that Ain did anything wrong…”
Her already small voice crawls into a mouse hole.
“Ah, Father will definitely… if you just bow your head, he’ll accept you again…”
I set down my glass and roughly run a dry hand over my face. To summarize: confess to crimes I didn’t commit and crawl back under the family’s protection. That’s a change, at least. In my previous life, there wasn’t even this kind of offer.
My temples throb like they’re being squeezed by a rope. I pull out a cigarette and put it in my mouth. Iris lights it with her magically ignited fingertip. At least she’s useful as a match and wallet substitute now. How moving.
I exhale the smoke long so it doesn’t touch Iris’s face. But the pain only gets worse.
She’s not doing this out of malice. I want to believe that. Still, because of what I’ve seen growing up, I don’t feel like being as harsh with Iris as I am with Max.
“Thanks for the drinks.”
If that’s the case, leaving is the best move. Before any nasty words slip out and ruin the mood, I push back my chair and stand. Contrary to expectations, Iris doesn’t actively try to stop me.
“Th-think about it… and if you decide, t-tell me…”
“That won’t happen. I’m going.”
Leaving the restaurant, I throw the finished cigarette butt on the ground and crush it. Even after escaping the source of the headache, the aftereffects still linger in my body. I wander aimlessly under the sunlight. After hesitating for a long time about whether to head to a bar or home, I turn my steps toward the Academy. For some reason, today’s pain feels like it’ll thrive better in a damp space.