First (10)
First (10)
A few days passed.
Every morning, the door opened at nearly the same time.
The sound became a familiar part of the daily routine.
It was Serepina.
She came in as she always did and began tidying up the mess I had made through the night.
But there was hardly any mess left to tidy anymore.
The empty bottles had stopped multiplying. The ashtray was clean.
A chain-smoking alcoholic who was also broke—forced into sobriety and cold turkey by sheer circumstance.
She stood in the middle of the room like someone who had lost her job.
Then, with practiced hands, she wiped dust from the table and pulled the wrinkled sheets taut.
She ground coffee beans she must have brought from somewhere and brewed a cup.
Right. She used to drag me to cafés, trying to change my mind somehow.
Though I always met her efforts with a sullen face and a stream of nagging.
The scent of fresh coffee filled the room.
It mingled with the faint lilac that lingered, creating a strange, bittersweet smell.
"The weather is nice today."
She set the coffee cup on the table beside my bed and looked at me.
Outside the window, the sky was murky and overcast. I didn't bother to correct her.
"I mended your uniform. There was a tear yesterday."
I only nodded.
"Let me know if you want to walk to class together."
I didn't answer.
Serepina kept trying to make conversation.
Something about a book she read yesterday. A professor she passed in the hallway.
Most of her words scattered into the air.
I was listening, and I wasn't listening.
I simply watched, blankly, as the lilac scent filled the room and faded.
She grew quieter over time. At some point, she just cleaned the room in silence and left.
She looked like someone polishing an old gravestone.
What had she expected from me?
She was the one who had called me a piece of trash that never changed, that stayed the same as always.
I only pulled myself out of bed after she was gone.
The window was steeped in its usual pale dawn light.
The coffee Serepina brewed for me was always cold.
I thought about death.
Suicide, to be exact.
I was probably living the most absurd life in this world.
I'd decided there was no meaning or value left in living, blown my head off—and then came right back.
If dying truly meant the end—
If I couldn't return to my original world, if I wasn't collecting Endings, if I simply died as Ravin—that would be a problem.
Though I suppose every way of dying is just a dog's death anyway.
Maybe my life was livable enough.
If I could afford to agonize over things like this.
I passed the day with those meaningless thoughts, then greeted another.
Diligently living life to the fullest, in my own way.
At least for me, suicide wasn't a reason to abandon daily life.
If I were Ravin, I would have holed up in here for good. So I had to at least manage this much.
Be normal. Put away the rampaging behavior. Just... be ordinary.
It held no meaning. But still.
Anyway, classes were tedious.
The professors wrote things on the blackboard. The students copied things down.
I just stared out the window. The sky trapped in the square frame was always shining blue.
When class ended, I went straight back to the dormitory.
I didn't want to run into anyone. I disliked being spoken to even more.
The world spun on just fine without me.
Those days repeated. Then came an afternoon.
After the last class, I returned to find a white envelope wedged in the door crack.
It was a thick envelope stamped with the Academy seal.
'Final Decision of the Disciplinary Committee.'
I carried it inside.
I sat on the sofa and started to open it, then let out a sigh and tossed it onto the table.
I lay down on the bed.
Closed my eyes.
Tried not to think about anything.
But it's like telling someone not to think about blinking. They only think about it more.
The mind is weak against negation.
About a week passed that way.
I shut myself in the room and did nothing.
If I'd been expelled, there was no reason to go to class anyway.
No one came to throw me out.
Maybe I was lucky.
Serepina still visited every morning, but she no longer brewed coffee or tried to speak to me.
I never drank the coffee she made. I always left it there untouched.
At some point, she just stood there blankly, glanced around the room I hadn't messed up, and quietly left.
I kept putting off the day I'd die, day after day, like a coward. Then a System Message flickered into view.
[Collect the Endings! 1/?]
[Reward: Return to the Original World.]
As if to say: if that's how you're going to live, hurry up and drop dead.
Fine. If they say do it, I'll do it.
Ravin did. And so did I.
They told me to get engaged, so I did. Told me to love, so I loved. Called me trash every day—maybe that's why I became trash. Said they wished someone like me would just die, every single day.
So I'll die.
They'll send me back, I'm sure.
Dying like this, without any meaning, must be one of the Endings too.
Serepina would pretend to be sad for a little while, but Kyle would take care of that somehow...
I don't like that thought.
But I'll definitely be able to go back.
Definitely.
Without fail.
I kicked off the blanket, stepped on one end to hold it down, and tore it in half. I rolled the pieces tightly into rope-like strips, then knotted the two together to form a long noose.
I tied it firmly to the wooden beam running across the ceiling and placed a chair underneath.
I took off my shoes and climbed onto the chair barefoot.
I drew a breath in, then out.
I'm not fond of pain, but once I open my eyes, I'll either be back like last time, or I'll have returned to where I originally was.
I'll just go back.
On the right side of the desk, there'll be a half-melted, watery iced coffee I never finished. A laptop will be sitting in front of me.
What was the title? I can't even remember.
Anyway, this whole world will be trapped inside that tiny monitor.
I slipped my head into the noose.
And then someone—I don't know who—knocked on the door with impeccably awful timing.
Almost as if someone had been watching the room.
Knock knock.
I didn't answer.
The knocking didn't stop.
"Ravin Edelgard? I know you're in there."
Estelle's voice.
Her voice was bright and cheerful, the same as always.
If I stayed still, that self-righteous woman would smash the door down to get in.
That was the kind of person she was.
A sigh escaped me.
The fact that even dying required timing was exhausting.
I untied the rope from the ceiling and tossed it carelessly onto the bed.
The noose slackened powerlessly, reverting to nothing but dirty torn blanket.
I kicked the chair back to its proper place.
This was unbelievably draining.
I moved my creaking joints and walked to the front door.
Creeeak.
When I opened the door, Estelle was leaning against the hallway wall, crunching on an apple.
She was wearing her usual white priestess robes.
"That was fast. I thought I'd be knocking for another ten minutes."
Her tone was like she was scolding a friend who was late to a meeting spot.
A half-eaten apple rested in one hand.
"Wondered why you never came to the church."
A tone like she was scolding a friend who was late to a meeting spot.
When exactly we'd become this familiar, I had no idea.
"Why would I go."
My voice didn't come out right.
It was the first thing I'd said in days, so it scraped out rough as sand.
"Didn't you get the notice?"
I got it.
If the person sent to tell me to clear out was the Saintess, was I supposed to feel grateful? That seemed worth mulling over.
"I'm supervising your community service. Told Levina about it."
"Community service?"
"...You didn't even read it. Figures."
Estelle giggled.
She peeked into my room but made no move to go inside.
"Your eyes are full of apathy. Life not fun?"
Her fingers brushed my cheek.
"Then again, if you spend every day holed up in a corner staring at the ceiling, I guess it wouldn't be."
I didn't bother to avoid her hand.
"One month suspension. 200 hours of community service.
Came out pretty light, didn't it? Surprising, right?"
Her voice was full of mischief, but her eyes weren't smiling.
"I pulled some strings.
Spouted some sanctimonious scripture about how every sinner deserves a chance. Heh.
You're pitiful. Heard you got struck from the family register?
And the broken engagement—well, that's famous."
Estelle took another bite of her apple, grabbed my wrist, and shoved the half-eaten fruit into my hand.
"So this Saintess is going to grant you some mercy.
Your job... well, just keep me company.
Take walks with me. Easy, right?
I've already marked you present starting a week ago, so don't worry."
Estelle said this with a wink.
Her red eyes glittered playfully.
I gave no answer.
Maybe because my head was full of thoughts of dying—my mind felt like it wasn't turning over properly.
She seemed to take my silence as agreement. Estelle's expression turned satisfied.
"Follow me."
She seized my wrist.
Her hand was slender and pale, but its strength was startling.
I offered no resistance. I let her drag me, helpless.