There is No "If" in History, But Here There Is
History has no "ifs." Therefore, the "if" story that unfolds from here is not history. It's someone's dream, illusion, hope—or something that's not quite any of those. Something in-between. An "if."
What if the protagonist were reborn not in the original world's setting, but in the world of the prologue? That "if" story.
Sadness is the most primal emotion, I believe. People who can't empathize with others' joy are pitied, but those who can't properly feel sadness or failure in the face of others' are not considered proper humans. The reason is simple: everyone's life is tragedy, not comedy.
With rare exceptions, everyone carries their own sadness and worries. And even those exceptions are pitiable for lacking such burdens. Since we're all such wretched beings, we reject those who can't understand us. That's why, among all emotions, I rank sadness the highest.
There's no foundation built on success anywhere. Only failure becomes the stepping stone, leading one to greater heights.
Thus, all I wanted was to be their foundation. I never wanted to be the one grabbing at their ankles...!!
"—Ispa."
"...Yuta-nim."
Her grip tightened fiercely, slowly draining the color from my hand. I strained to shake off her wrist, but in this child's body, I couldn't overcome the strength of the grown girl she had become. My wrist ached as if it might shatter, but I had no spare attention for it.
I had to escape. Away from these children...
"Where are you off to this time?"
"...!!"
After a long struggle, I couldn't free my wrist.
Thud. Tossed onto the bed, I didn't even have time to feel the somewhat stiff mattress before scanning my surroundings. The spacious room—big enough for several people—had not a single window. The only exit was the door, blocked by the very person who had dragged me here.
Click. Something unknown wrapped around the door.
"...Yuta-nim."
"It's Ispa, right? No, it can't be anyone else."
The windowless room was pitch black. The lone candle illuminating it flickered out from the gust stirred by Yuta's heavy footsteps. Without that light, the room became pure darkness; nothing was visible.
Desperate to escape somehow, I crawled across the bed toward her blind spot. But her hand caught me first.
"Those eyes. That hair. That smile. How could I forget, Ispa?"
"...I'm—"
"—No arguments."
No matter how much I'd honed my skills over countless hours, I'd learned one truth: innate strength defies all reversal.
"At first, I thought it was a hallucination."
"You must have seen wrong."
Her left hand seized my right.
"But touching you myself, I felt it for sure."
"I'm not... that... person."
Her right hand took my left.
"Ispa. You're alive."
"I don't... know anyone... like that."
"—Liar."
Her legs coiled around my waist like a serpent. My body was perfectly restrained. Escape was impossible now.
Was it a mistake to think I could watch the grown versions of them from afar, reborn in the same world with the same appearance? Or had I misjudged how little my existence weighed in their hearts?
Hearing they were now the leader and vice-leader of a famous mercenary band, I'd smiled involuntarily at their remarkable growth as they passed by. Was that the error? In the end, I'd been caught by Yuta the moment she spotted me.
"Ispa. Ispa. Ispa..."
"Ugh... Let... go. If word gets out that the vice-leader of the Silver Shadow Mercenaries is doing this...!"
"—And what're you gonna do about it?"
"Ah—!?"
Sudden pain shot through my shoulder. With her hands and legs binding me, and the utter darkness blinding me, I couldn't tell what had attacked. The unpleasant sensation drained my strength, clouding my thoughts.
What... What's happening?
Her breath roared hot in my ear.
"By the way, Ispa, you haven't changed a bit."
"Ugh, ha, haa... What... is this...!?"
"Your hair, height, chest, eyes, scent—everything's just like before."
Had she noticed my resistance weakening? Her hands released their grip and slowly traced my face. Gradually sliding from top to bottom, her fingers explored every inch of my body. By the time they reached my legs, the touch turned fervent, as if probing their very existence.
"...!!"
"Is this... a dream?"
The body of a woman over twenty crushed my childlike frame with overwhelming force. Under the suffocating pressure, I couldn't muster a single proper resistance.
This... is dangerous...!
"Even if it's a dream, that's fine. Lately, you haven't even appeared in my dreams."
"Get a... grip...!"
"I'm more rational right now than ever. Like this."
"—!!!!"
The sharp pain from before struck again in succession. I shouldn't feel pain this acutely, so why wouldn't it fade? It hurts. Stop. Please.
"—Kuh, haa... haa..."
"Ispa. Why'd you do it?"
Thud. Using my last ounce of strength, I broke free from her embrace, but I barely took a few steps before she grabbed my ankle. Dragged back into the darkness, I saw her sapphire eyes gleaming vividly.
The eyes I'd once praised as jewel-like now stared at me from the shadows.
"I'm... not... Ispa...!"
"......"
"I don't... know what you're talking about... Vice-Leader...!!"
"......"
Even reborn, I hadn't wanted to face them. Who pays attention to a step already trodden? Stairs merely allow others to climb silently. They'd grown enough, achieved more than anyone. If my name lingered at the edge of their accomplishments, that was satisfaction enough.
Stairs must be tools for the user, never burdens.
"So—!"
So.
"—You done talking, Ispa?"
"...!!"
From the start, my words hadn't reached her ears. Fresh agony seared my captured ankle, like red-hot iron branding flesh.
"Hiaaaah—!!?"
"I don't get it—why you're here alive, after dying by my mistake right in front of me."
Pulled backward by immense force into the dark, my small hands couldn't even grip the floor.
My body. Slowly. Backward.
"Let... go...!"
"Everything's incomprehensible. Maybe it's a dream. Or maybe I've finally lost my mind."
"For... real—!!?"
The other ankle exploded in pain, as if flayed raw. All I could do was clamp my hands over my mouth, praying my screams wouldn't escape and tarnish Yuta's honor.
"But it's okay."
"Haa... hup...!"
"—Because you're here."
A heavy mass enveloped me. She collapsed atop me.
Ah, where did it all go wrong? Because I desired to see their grown, beautiful forms? Because I overlooked that they hadn't let go of me?
I didn't know. A sound whispered in my ear.
"So, until this dream ends."
"Haa... haa..."
I had no choice but to accept it.
"—Stay with me."
This life would be spent indulging her whims. A gift for the childhood friend who'd grown so well.
It had to be that way.
Creak. The door closed gently, a careful consideration not to wake my sleeping self. But I'd been awake for a while, merely keeping my eyes shut from lack of anything to do. I rose immediately.
Well, that consideration was so warm it felt nice.
As always, I slithered from the bed amid the jangling of chains linking my neck and legs, welcoming the visitor.
"Welcome back, Yuta?"
"—Yeah. Ispa."
Yuta gazed down at me happily, then scooped me up under the arms like a pet dog. I made a helpless face and rubbed my cheek against hers.
I didn't know where it went wrong. But this useless life anyway—for my childhood friend who'd done so well alone, I'd use it for her.
That was all.
And with this, the side stories essentially end. I might write a Part 2 later and add more side stories then. This is Ispa's pet route, where she doesn't value her life much. What happened in the darkness? No one knows. Observation requires light, after all. In a lightless space, no one knows what transpired. Not even the author.