Dynamic Life Story - 2
My gaze swept over the headstones and came to rest on Hecate’s. Two years had already passed since I began aging alone; three more and I would finally catch up to her. Of the six of us, she had been the youngest.
I’m the strange one here.
I had started my civil-service career far too early. By any normal route, beginning last year or even this year would still have been considered fast.
I stood staring at her stone for a long time. I knew I ought to leave, yet my feet refused to move. I usually avoided coming except on the anniversary, because I hated the way these bastards seemed to greet me from their graves; once I was here, though, I always wanted to linger a little longer. Human hearts really are peculiar things.
But what good would staying do? They had already polished off two bottles; whether I stayed or not, they would simply be sprawled out drunk. Even if they were still sober, the moment they saw my face they would tell me to stop making a fuss and get lost. Predictable.
See you next year.
Maybe I would come sooner than next year’s anniversary. If I did, I would come empty-handed, so don’t get your hopes up.
Still, I really had poured an unholy amount of liquor. Even though I had touched the stone carefully, my palm was damp. The smell had soaked in properly, too.
“You crying?”
“What crying? I’m not crying.”
I offered a final greeting, turned around, and the Minister charged straight in. If I had not been careful I would have looked like a psychopath grinning after paying respects. Still, this was his own way of offering comfort. Even the Minister’s usual rage-virus was quiet today.
They had not been special colleagues only to me; they had been special subordinates to him as well.
“Director, here.”
“Thanks.”
The First Section Chief, who had been reading the room behind the Minister, scurried over and handed me a handkerchief. I had been shaking my hands the whole way back because they were so wet; he must have noticed.
I wiped my hands, then returned the handkerchief now stained a soft blue. The First Section Chief pouted.
“I gave it to you to wipe your tears, and you dye it and give it back?”
“I told you I’m not crying.”
I smirked and pinched his lower lip. He had stuck it out so perfectly it was practically an invitation.
“Mmmph—!!”
Why did this kid always do this when he knew it would hurt every single time? Meanwhile I pretended not to see the Second Section Chief nodding in satisfaction while rubbing his own Adam’s apple. That one had earned every thrashing he ever got.
“That’s enough. Are you going to stand in front of them showing off how you grew up into a violent superior?”
The Minister took a jab at the complete mess we were making, but—
“Your Excellency already saw plenty of that when you were still a section chief.”
“You little shit.”
One sentence was all the defense I needed. With nothing left to say, the Minister simply started walking first. The sight was almost impressive. If I had grown up into a violent superior, who exactly did he think I had learned it from?
My eyes drifted back to the First Section Chief still pinched by the lip. Of course, a little of it had also been self-taught by watching these brats.
“Heading straight back, sir?”
“Have to. Nothing to do even if I stay in the capital.”
I gave a light nod at the Deputy Director’s words. I had already told the Principal I would finish by midday and return, so it was straight back to the Academy.
“Director. The First Section Chief looks like he’s about to cry.”
“Ah.”
At the Third Section Chief’s reminder I finally released the First Section Chief’s lip. I had forgotten I was still holding it. The texture was just so nice that once you grabbed it you never wanted to let go.
“Director, you’re supposed to cherish and love your subordinates more.”
I ignored the First Section Chief’s tearful whining.
With no more business in the Imperial Capital, I returned to the Academy at once. Truthfully, even if I got back before noon there was nothing urgent to do, but the longer I stayed in the capital the higher the chance of an unexpected summons. No need to take pointless risks.
I killed a little time, and the moment the club members arrived I sat Erich down.
“You haven’t been calling home lately?”
“Huh?”
A student living in a distant dorm who never once contacted his family, so the older brother had to deliver greetings instead. Truly bleak.
“The family head asked how you were doing.”
At the words “family head,” Erich flinched. He had always found the patriarch intimidating; apparently that had not changed.
“What… what did he say?”
“Just asked if you were well.”
“That’s all?”
The suspicion dripping from his eyes practically shouted that the family head was not the sort of man who asked after someone’s health for no reason. Even I had wondered what was going on when the old man inquired after me, but for you to do the same was a bit much.
At least I’m not his real son.
The body itself was definitely the family head’s blood and the family head’s son. But the contents inside were a complete stranger to him, and after the major burn four years ago I was not exactly close with him either. Still, you were essentially his only child—if even you acted like this, what was he supposed to do?
“There’s more.”
“I knew it.”
“He said to tell you that for a martial artist, going far matters more than going fast.”
Erich tilted his head, even more puzzled. It really had been nothing more than an ordinary greeting mixed with a bit of concern.
Back at the manor the family head had never cared how either of us trained so long as we hit the target numbers. Hearing him suddenly worry about our bodies was bound to cause some cognitive dissonance.
“When you’re living far away, at least call once in a while. Even when I was in the capital I called once a week.”
“You did? Who?”
“The steward.”
The “are you kidding me” look he gave me stung a little. Honestly, I also found it awkward to call the family head or Mother directly.
“Your father seems rather strict.”
Once the brothers’ family talk wound down, the other members who had been quietly listening edged closer. As always, it was Ryutis who spoke first with a light laugh.
“He’s not exactly the warm type.”
Erich answered firmly, though even that was a generous phrasing. It was less strictness and more blunt indifference. The side of him we had seen today at the National Cemetery had simply been too unusual.
“Is that how you see it as well, Advisor?”
“I moved out a few years ago. I don’t remember.”
“Haha, that makes sense!”
Four years ago, when I began my civil-service life, I had essentially become independent. And since I had never felt any blood bond with the family head to begin with, I had no interest in weighing warmth against strictness.
“I have so many siblings I don’t even know what it’s like to receive Father’s attention.”
Ryutis, as far as I knew, had two older brothers and about two older sisters above him. With younger ones lined up after him as well, he was merely the fifth of a great many children.
The way he put it, though, made the King of Armein sound like a cold-blooded father who neglected his kids. Leave it to a son to endanger his own father’s reputation. I should have known from the red hair—turns out he was a fire-attribute filial son.
The King of Armein simply had so many children that the attention he could give each one was limited; he was still known as a monarch who cared for his offspring in his own way.
“If only His Majesty had been even half as good as the King of Armein, things would never have come to this.”
I still remembered the Crown Prince muttering that while downing cheap wine alone after summoning me out of nowhere. He eventually got properly drunk and the Crown Princess had to soothe him in a panic; to this day I have no idea why he called me there in the first place.
Anyway, compared to the Livnoman Imperial House, which overflowed with bloodstorms and cold air, the Lovens royal family was positively harmonious.
“Having many siblings is a good thing, isn’t it? The burden gets spread around.”
“Well… true.”
Later, second of three siblings, left Ryutis with nothing to say; he answered sheepishly. In an ordinary family three children would be fine, but for a royal house three was dangerously few. The more spare princes available when a crown prince died, the better.
Of course, sometimes having too many simply meant they killed one another to thin the numbers. The currently silent Ainter was a living example of that kind of household.
“Is today’s topic family affairs? How unfortunate—I have nothing to contribute.”
Tanian, who had been watching the two princes’ exchange, spoke with a small smile. Starting the club meeting with family talk had apparently steered the entire conversation that way.
“Isn’t the Saint’s family the most impressive of all? Enen is your father.”
“Haha, that is true according to doctrine. I am an orphan.”
The casual self-deprecating jab even made Ryutis shut his mouth in shock. Impressive—getting that loudmouth to close his trap was genuinely hard… though considering Ryutis had just essentially force-fed him a “your dad’s in heaven” line, being able to speak at all would have been the crazier reaction.
Ryutis’s pupils darted around wildly before locking onto me. Why look at me? I have nothing to say.
I tried to glance away and ignore him, but the moment Luise’s dark expression entered my shifted field of view, I changed my mind.
“Let’s end the family talk here. If we keep going we’ll hear royal secrets and have to cut our ears off.”
“Ah, you’re right. I was careless.”
Ryutis latched onto my attempt to fold the conversation as if it were his only lifeline. I had not particularly meant to help him, but I would throw him a bone just this once.
“Luise?”
“Ah—yes, yes! You called?”
Her expression was still gloomy, yet the moment I spoke she hurriedly pasted on a bright face. Sorry—I had been distracted today and almost forgot.
“Those macarons were good last time. Think you could make some again today?”
“Yes! I’ll make them right away!”
“Great. Thanks.”
The darkness vanished at once and she beamed like the usual Luise. If I had not known better I would have thought I imagined the earlier look.
The one who knows should have been the one to look out for her.
A bitter smile tugged at my lips from the guilt. Apart from the people of House Naiead in this world, I was probably the only one who knew. It had been in the free chapters of the original webtoon. No matter how much the club members liked Luise, they could never have known the little girl she used to be.
Back then Luise had suffered a catastrophe that made Erich’s simple fear of the family head, or Ainter’s already-prepared grief over a dead full-blooded older brother, look trivial by comparison.
The author was insane.
I had never seen the original author’s face, but they had to have been a madman. There was no other way to put an eight-year-old through something like that.
Having your only older sister die while blaming you—wasn’t that a little too much?