I Am a Bad Person. -5-
I stopped by a tavern after a long time. To give myself a gift for all my hard work, I strode toward a place filled with short but cherished memories.
A tavern on the outskirts of the capital. Grape's Tavern, where the draft beer and dry snacks were delicious, was run by a young female owner. In the novel, it appeared as a favorite spot for Yuria.
Ding-a-ling. "Welcome~ This is Grape's Tavern. Oh!"
The owner, who had been in the kitchen, let out an "Oh!" at the sight of her long-lost regular customer. She greeted me warmly, saying it had been ages. I gave her a small wave and a bow.
"Long time no see, ma'am."
"It's been too long. I thought you were dead."
"Apologize for thinking a young man with a bright future ahead was dead."
"Hohoho. That's just how glad I am to see you."
I brushed off her teasing with a light laugh and said, "I had business in the capital, so I dropped by. Got a seat?"
"Of course~ I'd make one if there wasn't."
The unusually friendly owner replied with a bright smile. She was a good person who gave extra service ever since I'd chased out a troublesome customer in the past. As we chatted about recent happenings with warm smiles, she glanced toward a corner of the restaurant and said to me, "But aren't you here with your friend?"
"Friend?"
"Yeah. You two used to come sometimes. He's already here, sitting."
Friend... Who? A bitter doubt rose in me—did I even have friends during my lonely academy days, when I had none? Following the owner's gaze, I turned my head and spotted a pink-haired woman in the corner of the tavern, sipping her beer alone.
She took a swig, grimaced, and muttered, "Kuhhh... bitter." At that familiar sight, a small laugh escaped me.
Noticing my ambiguous expression, the owner cautiously asked, "Should I set you up separately?"
I shook my head, politely declining her consideration. "No. I'll sit over there."
I walked lightly to the corner where Yuria sat. Plenty of good seats were available, yet she'd chosen the shadowy nook—it made me chuckle. And seeing someone who hated alcohol doing this was hilarious. A smile kept creeping onto my face.
*
"Why are you drinking alone like some tragic heroine?"
Yuria looked at me with startled eyes. Her half-lidded gaze, hazy from the booze, brimmed with surprise.
"Rica...rdo? How did you get here?!"
"Why does the world's most handsome and perfect man come to a tavern? To drink, obviously."
"What...?"
Flustered, Yuria let out a snicker in response. It was sincere, but she took it as a joke, and I laughed along. Scraaaape.
I carefully pulled out a chair and sat facing her. I'd felt lonely thinking I'd drink alone, but now I had company—it lifted my spirits. I asked Yuria, who wore a bitter smile,
"Mind if I sit?"
"You're already sitting."
"I'd run if you said no."
Yuria snickered again and gave her okay. "Sit."
"Thanks. Dodged drinking solo—lucky break."
"And the young lady...?"
She glanced behind me, but I shrugged and replied with 'Lady's out.', clearing up her question. I ordered beer and dried squid from the server, then gazed steadily into Yuria's eyes. They were moist. Her expression was downcast, melancholic—like she'd just been crying. The heroine's always crying, I thought.
The novel often described her gloom, but seeing it firsthand... it didn't sit right. It was a bright, hopeful romance fantasy popular with female readers, but that only applied to the male leads. They were physically strong but had their lacks. Yuria was physically weak but filled their emotional voids. The story's fun came from that dynamic, but for her, it probably wasn't so pleasant.
Not that Yuria was weak. She had healing magic talent beyond her peers and vast knowledge of holy magic. It was just that Mikhail, Ruin, and the other sub-males excelled in everything. Yuria wasn't lacking; her talents lay elsewhere.
Like with Hans. I figured she felt skeptical about her reality of always needing help. Praised by those around her, yet feeling like she could do nothing herself.
The novel had described her feelings at this point: wandering about her worth amid complicated relationships. Bullied since her first year. Hans fallen. In crises, helped only by the male leads, disgusted by her own helplessness—that was now.
So I could guess at her worries. Or maybe not.
I cautiously broached the subject with her gloomy face. "Must be tough, huh?"
"Pardon? What...?"
"Just school, academy life in general. Seems rough. Unlike me, you didn't tank your grades."
"...It's manageable."
She replied with a bitter look. Her firm tone said mind your business, but her sadness hinted at academic stress. Hoping to make her smile, I pulled a cheeky face.
"Live off your looks like me. It's thrilling."
Yuria snickered. "You know how obnoxious that sounds?"
"That's the point."
"Pfft! What even...?"
I thought it'd ease her troubles a bit, but it didn't help much. Bitter smile at her grim expression, I switched to lighter topics. "Tteokbokki good today? Put extra effort since it was a special order."
Yuria chugged her beer. "Super tasty."
Weak to alcohol, she grimaced—"Kuhhh... bitter."—muttering honestly. Too much isn't good, I thought. The novel said three beers got her drunk, so I smiled faintly, worried about her overindulging.
"Glad you liked it. Worked hard. Unfamiliar kitchen, so I put salt instead of sugar, but hey—what matters is you enjoyed it."
"...What was that?"
"Means I made it tasty."
"..."
Straight talk left her speechless, head down. In a small, trembling voice, she asked cautiously, "Do you do that for just anyone?"
Her ears, visible under lowered head, burned red—probably from exceeding her limit. I shook my head.
"Tteokbokki with all my soul? Not for just anyone."
"Then why me?"
"'Cause you're a precious friend?"
"..."
Her ears flushed deeper. Can't let her drink more. I'd hoped for haha-ho-ho fun, but this could turn into me consoling a drunken rambler. While her head was down, I stealthily slid her beer glass to the table's edge.
Stare.
Yuria stared blankly at my sneaky hand hiding the glass in the corner. Propping her chin on the table with a sulky pout, cheeks puffed, she said, "Why hide it?"
"...Didn't do anything."
"Liar."
Awkward laugh as I returned the glass. Her puffed cheeks deflated at the beer back in front of her; she grinned goofily and chugged the rest. Wiping foam from her lips, she grimaced—"Kuh... bitter."
I shook my head at the sight. "Respect to someone weak to booze doing shots."
"Why?"
"Just is."
Stare.
Her booze pride dented, Yuria stared again. "Who do you think I'm like this for...?"
Her sassy tone, trailing up, drew a small laugh from me. "You knew I overcharged you today? Got 10 extra gold, though."
"?"
Her puzzled eyes. "...Not?"
"No."
"Uh..."
Accidentally confessed. I scratched my head, flashing a cheerful grin. "Guess the imperial army's hauling me off."
"..."
"I'll tell the owner to comp you."
Her icy look left me speechless. Awkward air flowed as the tavern filled up. We downed glasses. One. Two. Anxiety hit as Yuria's eyes lost focus.
"Haa..."
Heavy sigh, then she spoke. "Ricardo."
Not polite—casual. I smiled at her sloppy state. "Yeah?"
"That is..."
She hesitated long, then opened up. "You don't hate me, right?"