Chapter 48: Deleting a Diary is a Farewell to the Past
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 48: Deleting a Diary is a Farewell to the Past
Once I’d steadied my emotions, I got back to work. I unplugged my old phone from the Little Ox-Horse; the device had fulfilled its final purpose.
Naturally, I wasn’t going to let it waste any more mana—after all, its "battery life" was converted from mana.
In the end, I found myself scrolling through it one last time with a hint of nostalgia, until muscle memory led me to tap on the memo app.
The first thing that caught my eye was my diary.
Entry after entry appeared before me.
August 25th, Sunny
This is the first time I’ve ever kept a diary…
December 29th, Rainy
The Counselor called. I thought it was about the Common Language make-up exam, but it wasn’t…
January 18th, Sunny
The day passed just like that. Everything seemed perfectly reasonable.
11:25 PM. I’m done crying. No one saw me. Good. Pull yourself together and keep going…
October 20th, Rainy
As I was writing this, I instinctively checked the calendar. But it shouldn’t be like this. Today should be my birthday. I should know that better than anyone…
...
I looked through the entries. They were intermittent, recording events both great and small. Even though I was a transmigrator with a mature soul, life didn't care whether you were an adult or how "mature" you were. It hit just the same.
The further down I read, the less I remembered. That’s just how memory works—you’re supposed to forget the unhappy things. My brain seemed to understand that better than my conscious mind did.
I really liked one particular line from my diary:
"I hope that when my future self reads this, they’ll be completely baffled. That would prove I’ve finally forgotten it, wouldn't it?"
It was true, but while the diary had preserved the record, it had left a void in my mind.
Sometimes I regretted keeping a diary. Every time I reached these parts, I knew I had endured unspeakable pain back then, yet I couldn't remember the details. It felt like a gap in my history, as if a piece of me had been crudely gouged out.
I peered into that void, but I could see nothing—only feel a sense of bottomless dread.
"Alright, it’s all over now."
I scrolled back to the very first entry. The order in the memo app was actually a mess; sometimes a stray edit would bump an old note to the top. I didn't care. I only cared that these things had actually happened.
I no longer placed much importance on the chronological order of time. Now, I only cared about the individual nodes of experience.
Fortunately, I knew which one was the very first—the very first entry I’d ever written. Though the content seemed childish now, it was the one I had revisited the most, so it sat at the top.
A confirmation prompt popped up on the screen: Delete?
I hesitated for a moment, then finally tapped it.
Whether it was a slip of the finger or a sudden burst of resolve, once I started, I knew I was being forced to say goodbye to my past.
It was inevitable.
I didn't choose "Select All." I deleted them one by one.
Perhaps "deleting" wasn't the right word. It was more like a final review, a formal severance of my past life in this world.
With every deletion, I found that I felt no lingering attachment. Instead, I felt lighter, my movements becoming more practiced and fluid.
It wasn't until I reached the very last one that it hit me.
There were no more.
So, the sum of my experiences in this world amounted to only this much? It seemed there wasn't much left to be sad about after all.
I gave a soft chuckle and deleted the final memo with a casual flick of my finger.
As if it had never mattered.
I looked up at the ceiling with a sense of liberation, then took a moment to feel the villa around me. This was where I would be living from now on.
It was good.
I reached out to turn the phone off. I’d find a chance later to remove it from my sight—and my life—entirely.
But just as I was about to shut it down, the screen went black. It looked like the battery had finally died.
It made sense. I hadn't charged it for long, and I’d just made two calls and spent a while reading the diary. Plus, the battery was prone to leaking power...
It seemed the phone was even more eager to leave me than I was to let it go.
As expected of the phone that had been with me for so long—it really understood me!
Don't worry, I'll find a chance to give you a grand burial!
I went back to my room and tossed the phone onto the nightstand. Since it was dead, I wasn't worried about anyone picking it up and looking through it. Even if they did, the most important thing—the diary—was gone. I had nothing to fear.
I knew that I had officially parted ways with my past. Sometimes, making a major resolution only requires a very small act. For me, it was just moving on from a phone.
Originally, I hadn't planned on going out again. My half-day of paid leave had been thoroughly disrupted by those earlier events. Even though my mind and my mouth kept insisting I had made a clean break with the past, my emotions weren't going to shift that quickly.
I had already downloaded the academy’s food delivery app.
But suddenly, I felt like taking a walk. And if I was going for a walk, I might as well find something delicious to eat while I was out.
I scrapped my plan to order delivery. I would indulge myself and seek pleasure in the most spontaneous way possible. After all, is there anything a grand, delicious meal can’t help you move past?
I wasn't the one who should be worrying!
Standing before the vanity mirror, I tidied my appearance and checked my clothes. Once I was sure everything was in order, I stepped out the door with a light heart.
As for where I was going?
I hadn't decided. I had no goal.
I’d just head to the bus stop and play "blind box" with the routes!
The bus was free anyway. If I saw an interesting place from the window, I’d hop off. When I got tired of walking, I’d get back on and keep watching the scenery. The Witch Academy was massive; every street offered sights I had never seen before.
Of course, I had to consciously avoid the areas affected by the recent battle. I wasn't sure if the buses on those specific routes were even running.
Luck was on my side. Shortly after I reached the platform, I successfully boarded a bus. There were very few people on board—just a few Senior Sisters sitting in silence. It actually made me feel a bit like an outsider.
After riding for a while, I finally made a decision: I’d get off midway and transfer to another bus.
I didn't know where the next stop was, but the road started to feel familiar.
Thinking back, wasn't this one of the roads I’d taken when I first came to register?
I’d set out to see new places, only to end up circling back to familiar territory.
There was no helping it. In that moment, I decided to put a temporary faith in providence and fate. Retracing my steps wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
Besides, I could keep an eye out for any good restaurants along the way to check out later.
I hopped off the bus, bidding farewell to the somber vehicle, and began to wander aimlessly down the sidewalk.
Even just walking here, I could feel the air thick with a sense of freedom. It was the exhilaration of breaking my own chains!
I drank in this newfound sensation greedily, knowing that before long, I would grow accustomed to it.