Hey, I'm Still Alive
Hey, I'm alive? I had a dream.
A dream where I was back in my original body—not Ilisha's—hunched over in a dingy room, editing videos no one would ever watch.
Maybe it was reality.
Maybe becoming Ilisha was the dream, and what I'm seeing now is the real world.
What I couldn't be sure of was that no matter how I thought about it, I'd definitely died in that final moment.
No matter how closely Cecilia was watching over me, there was no way I could've walked away unscathed after unleashing aura blade at full power—twice in a row.
I knew it was reckless even as I did it, but I regretted it a little now.
Maybe I should've dialed back the output just a bit.
Even if the demon worshippers were tough, that last strike felt like total overkill.
While I was drifting in what might've been the afterlife—or just a dream—my mind started to clear, and my body came back into focus.
I could feel the warm blanket around me, my whole body throbbing, my skin strangely cool to the touch.
Huh.
This feels way too real.
Am I actually alive?
With a spark of hope, I opened my eyes. The familiar ceiling of the temple came into view.
"Nngh…"
Before I could even look around, a groan escaped my lips. My body ached all over—not just stiff, but throbbing like a bad flu.
Only after feeling that vivid pain did it truly sink in: I was alive.
…Cecilia must've pulled out all the stops to keep me breathing.
As expected of Cecilia. I knew she had it in her!
Honestly, though, I didn't expect her to save me from this. Even I thought I was a goner.
Well, in the original story, she managed to save Ern from an even worse state, so yeah, she could've handled little old me.
My one regret? I blacked out right after that final aura blade, so I never got to see Cecilia's face while she healed me.
It must've been an expression I'd treasure forever, and now I can only imagine it.
If I'd known, I should've secretly learned some astral projection technique or something.
Then I could've watched everyone's reactions after I collapsed.
Too bad I didn't, so I missed out. It was killing me.
They definitely gave me faces and reactions worth saving forever!
…But what can you do? For now, I'm just grateful to be alive.
I cut off my inner cursing at the missed opportunity and propped myself up on the bed.
Even that simple motion made my whole body scream. I had no idea how long I'd been out, but it must've been ages.
"Agh…"
There wasn't a single spot that didn't hurt.
My body creaked and shivered like it'd been frozen solid and poorly thawed.
…Which, come to think of it, wasn't far off.
As if agreeing, my body protested wildly, demanding I lie back down.
Dizzy, stiff, painful, cold, throbbing—total chaos.
But that was par for the course.
"Nyaaah…"
After a big stretch to loosen up my rusty limbs, I finally got a look at my right arm.
Scars snaked along the veins, covering it completely.
My hand was less obvious, but still ugly as sin.
Ah, what the hell is this?
It's like someone took a chisel to a statue.
Cecilia wouldn't have left it like this on purpose, so I figured it was from barely piecing together my shattered arm. Still pissed me off.
This looks awful. If you're gonna scar me, at least make it symmetrical.
That was the end of my griping about the scars.
I glanced around for a calendar.
That's when I spotted someone completely unexpected.
My mother.
She was dozing in a chair by the bed, head nodding forward.
Dark circles and tear tracks under her eyes, a crumpled handkerchief clutched in her hand.
That told the whole story.
She must've rushed here the second Father told her I was critical.
Then spent her time weeping endlessly over her comatose daughter, probably collapsing herself in the process.
Brother or Father might've handled it differently, but Mother's reactions? I knew them well.
I'd seen her cry for me plenty of times.
And here she was, crying for me again.
It made my chest tingle a little.
This body really is loved, huh.
Maybe because of that dream before waking, the idea of someone caring, loving me—it felt so damn good.
If I'd had parents like this as a kid, maybe I wouldn't be this messed up.
With a bitter inner laugh, I checked the calendar.
Exactly one week since the field trip.
Whoa, legendary.
I've only been at the academy two weeks, and half of that's been spent crashing in the temple.
No joke—this could go down in academy history.
Well, killing demon worshippers and beating back an actual demon a week after enrolling? That alone might do it.
As I spun my delusions solo to avoid waking Mother, the door opened and someone entered.
Brother.
"…Ah, Brother. Um, hello?"
I pondered what greeting would make the best gossip, but nothing came to mind, so I went with something plain. Like a morning hello.
Of course, Brother stared like he'd seen a corpse come back to life.
He stood frozen, hands trembling, then rushed toward me—only to stop and gently wake Mother instead.
"M-Mother. Wake up. Ilisha's awake. Mother!"
"Nnh… Ilisha… is… awake?"
Mother rubbed her eyes sleepily despite his efforts, then spotted me and rubbed them again.
Her eyes welled up instantly, and she pulled me into a fierce hug.
Her arms wrapped around my back—even my tail—and she clung like she'd never let go, no matter what.
"Ah… aaah… Aaaah!! Baby, my baby…!"
Mother's embrace was as warm as ever.
She held me so tight, like I'd drop dead the second she let go, murmuring my name over and over, doubting if this was real.
Feels so good.
One problem, though.
Can't breathe.
She was weak by northern standards, but still.
"Mother, I can't… breathe…"
I patted her back lightly until she finally released me.
"Ah…! Sorry, dear…"
"It's me. Ilisha. Not a dream—real as can be."
"Aaah, gods above… thank you. Sniff, thank you so much…!"
Mother, who usually cursed the gods, actually thanked them for once.
After a while, she loosened her grip and spoke to me with her tear-streaked face.
"Baby… Ilisha… You said in your letters you were getting along great with your friends at the academy. I trusted those letters, and yet… how did it end up like this?!"
…Ah, right. The letters.
That must've made her reaction even worse.
I'd never been a parent, so I couldn't fully grasp the pain, but I could fake some empathy.
"…Sorry. I never thought it'd turn out like this."
I gave an awkward smile, and Mother looked at me like she might burst into tears again any second.
Brother watched me with his lips pressed tight.
Then he spoke.
"Ilisha."
"Yes?"
"Let's go home now. Back to the estate, Ilisha."
He didn't wait for my reply.
"I… heard the gist. The demon worshippers are targeting you. This place is too dangerous. Even if the academy prides itself on safety, it's nothing compared to us watching over you every second. So… let's go home. Okay?"
He wasn't wrong.
So Mother nodded along, her face tearful.
"Yes, baby… let's go home. Please? Back to the North. If you miss your friends or teachers, we can invite anyone you want. There's no reason for you to stay here…"
She trailed off.
My expression control had slipped.
No way.
Go home now?
The stage is finally all set!
Cecilia was here.
Lucia, Dorothea, Ern, Reinhardt.
Ah, Yeon too.
A crowd of perfect audiences who went pale at my slightest injury, sighed in relief at my smile, and crumbled at my dumbest quip.
Leave all that for the North?
What bullshit.
Go back to being quietly protected, treated like a fragile duke's daughter, and withering away?
Hell no.
Even if worse dangers came, I had zero intention of leaving now.
It'd give me more chances to shine.
More attention, eyes, emotions to soak up.
Head back to the North where I'd already drained every drop?
No chance in hell.
I drew a firm line inside, but played hesitant on the outside.
Agreeing without thinking wouldn't be 'Ilisha.'
Then, in the sweetest daughter voice:
"…No."
Mother swallowed hard.
Brother's lips twitched like he was about to speak.
"I don't want to go home."
This was real.
"There are… friends here I want to protect."
Not entirely wrong.
A little true.
Just a little.
"And so many things I still want to see."
Mostly true.
Though those 'things' were mostly others' reactions, attention, gazes.
"I don't want to wither away in some empty place. I want to make what little time I have left shine."
This line would hit hard.
And it did—Mother's eyes welled up again, Brother's face twisted in conflict.
Ah.
Perfect.
Family emotions really pack that thick punch.
Tastes even better after so long.
Though too much would still sicken me.
"I know. I nearly died for real this time. I know I pushed too hard."
True.
For a split second, I really thought game over.
"But… if I go home now, I'll regret it forever."
Also true.
Regret leaving these juicy audiences behind.
So I'd stay.
No matter what.
I'd never leave.
Not this delicious stage.
Not for a second.