Chapter 22: Academy Heroine's Right Diagonal Back Seat
Chapter 22
“I never thought of Scarlet as a friend from the beginning.”
After saying those words, Sylvia spun around and returned to the classroom.
As I blankly stared at Sylvia's back, I felt something tapping at my leg.
When I looked down, I saw my hand trembling uncontrollably, repeatedly hitting my leg.
...Hmm, was a tremor something that could develop later in life?
I clasped my trembling hand with my other hand and squeezed them together tightly, calming the shaking slightly.
Anyway, Sylvia seemed unusually edgy today.
Well, Sylvia is a girl, so there could be a few days each month when she feels this way.
Even with magic, elves are no different from humans.
I should probably be cautious around Sylvia in her "Magical Elf Sylvia" mode for a while.
It was a pointless thought, even to me.
I'm having pointless thoughts.
So, manage your expression.
The distorted expression returned to a neutral one.
*
When lunch break ended and class resumed, the strangely tense atmosphere in the classroom seemed to lighten up a bit.
One reason was that both Sylvia and Yoon Si-woo looked less tense than they had in the morning, but the main reason was likely the teacher leading the lesson at the front of the classroom.
“Since you’ve entered Aegis Academy, you can already be considered heroes! Aegis doesn’t admit anyone who isn’t strong, so by getting in, it means you already possess a certain level of strength!”
The female teacher in charge of the class on the mindset of heroes.
Her appearance suggested she would be very calm, but when she started teaching, she was so passionate and animated that you could almost hear “flap-flap” sound effects around her.
Even though she was taller than the average woman, watching her made you think of a little bird flapping its wings energetically.
The other students attending the class wore smiles as if they were watching an adorable creature scurrying around, confirming that they probably felt the same way.
“Don’t think of protecting people as something grand like noblesse oblige, where those with power must fulfill their responsibilities and duties. Just consider it a natural part of being strong!”
The teacher continued her enthusiastic explanation.
The students listened with pleasant smiles.
“Considering only the strength we possess, if ordinary people are like babies, you are like fully grown adults! If something dangerous happens, even if it’s a risk to us, we shouldn't just leave those helpless babies behind. Got it, everyone?”
To the teacher’s habitual phrase, “Got it, everyone?” the students responded loudly with a laugh and a “Yes!”
Busy trying to gauge whether Sylvia’s mood had improved, I was the only one who didn't answer the teacher’s question. But I had only one thought while listening to the lesson.
Sylvia looks pretty, even when she’s in a bad mood.
Other than that, nothing else mattered to me.
*
On the way home after school, I saw a man giving a child a piggyback ride.
The child, perched on his father’s shoulders, was looking at the world from a much higher perspective, smiling brightly.
I wondered if the child knew that his father was sweating profusely.
Despite the sweat, the man carried the child silently without a single complaint.
Entranced by the scene, I walked until I reached home without realizing it.
Following my routine, I undressed and took a shower as soon as I got home.
After the shower, I opened the fridge to prepare dinner.
“Oh...”
I had forgotten to do grocery shopping on the way home.
I thought about going out to buy groceries, but having already showered and changed into pajamas, I lost the will to go out.
Do you know the feeling of a situation falling apart after you’ve come home from work, showered, and changed?
I’d rather skip dinner for one night...
Come to think of it, I hadn’t eaten breakfast either, since I rushed out in a hurry to avoid being late.
I earned money, but why can't I spend it...
Yesterday was strangely lucky...
I sighed and collapsed onto my bed.
It was too early to sleep.
Would I have to kill time again?
Sigh, I’d like to avoid any more killing...
I wished my superpower allowed me to sleep as much as I wanted.
That way, I wouldn’t have unnecessary thoughts and could just sleep.
I wondered if Sylvia’s mood might improve tomorrow.
Thinking such thoughts, I clasped my still trembling hands together and closed my eyes.
*
When I was a child, I liked my father.
No matter how much money someone else’s father made or what their profession was, I never felt envious.
My father was the only person people around us would say was hard to find in today's world.
Kind, devoted to helping others, valuing connections, repaying kindness several times over, and forgiving others' mistakes generously.
I thought my father was the coolest person in the world.
I always wanted to be like my father.
But unlike the stories I read as a child, the world was not a place where good deeds were rewarded.
It was quite the opposite.
At some point, strangers started visiting our home frequently.
Whenever I heard someone knocking on the door, I would crawl into the closet.
It was a game of hide-and-seek that my father and I had agreed upon.
In our house, the only place to hide was the large closet, so I would always hide in the dark closet with the door closed until the loud noises outside ceased.
When the noise subsided, my father would open the closet door, smiling, and tell me how brave I was for hiding so well.
Honestly, being alone in the closet was scary, but I was happy because my father praised me.
Because of my father’s reassurance, I could muster the courage to endure the darkness of the closet.
It was one night during such hide-and-seek games.
It was a time when I should have been asleep, but I couldn’t fall asleep because of an odd feeling in my chest. My father, seeing this, held me tightly for a long time before he spoke with a trembling voice.
He apologized, saying he wasn’t smart enough to find a better solution and that he was really sorry.
After saying that, he extended his pinky finger and asked me to make one last promise.
He taught me that promises made with a pinky swear should never be broken.
I hooked my pinky with his and engraved his words deep into my heart.
That was the last memory I had of my father.
The next day, I woke up, went to school, and when I came back, the house was covered in red notices, and my father did not come home until late at night.
The next day, and the day after that, he didn’t come home either.
My father had debts.
That was all my mother told me, and as I grew older, I came to believe that my father had left my mother and me in the middle of the night to escape his debts.
I believed that my father was not the kind of person who would do such a thing, so I was even more disappointed that he had disappeared, leaving us behind.
I thought that until a man who claimed to be my father’s friend appeared and knelt before me.
Surety.
He said that my father had taken on a huge debt because of him.
He said that he had run away, leaving my father to shoulder the debt, and cried as he spoke.
My father’s name was listed as the guarantor on the paper the man held.
Alongside it was a name that seemed vaguely familiar, probably the man's own.
It was a name I had heard my father mention often, calling him a good friend.
The debt my father had taken on for this man was far too large to be paid off by simply taking our furniture.
It was an amount that would not be surprising if our entire house was taken.
Only then did I understand.
My father hadn’t run away in the night.
He had gone to fulfill his responsibilities as a father, to protect the home where my mother and I would stay.
I recalled what my mother had told me.
If debts weren’t paid, others would suffer.
It wasn’t my father who hadn’t paid his debts, but this man, and the person who had suffered the most was probably not my mother or me, but my father.
My father must have told my mother not to tell me the truth, fearing I would live hating this man who had betrayed him.
My father, who always said that hating someone does nothing to help your life.
That was the kind of person my father was.
Without a word, I helped the crying man to his feet and sent him away.
Blaming this man would not bring my father back.
And my father would not have wanted that either.
In the end, neither my father nor this man was the one to blame.
The world was harsh to good people.
A place where trust is betrayed and faith is exploited.
A place where being kind means being called a fool.
Why do good people always have to suffer?
That’s why I hated the world.
That day, I remembered the promise I made with my father.
‘Even when things get tough, let’s promise to always live bravely, with Dad.’
The weight of the pinky promise we made felt especially heavy today.
With a heavy heart, I asked silently.
Father, am I doing well?
Naturally, there was no response.
That nice...
ReplyDeleteThis is heartwrenching... if only Sylvia wasnt so blinded by jealously then she could’ve seen how good of a person mc is
ReplyDeleteThanks for the chapter
Well, i can't say i don't understand MC's view on the world, i would change that word though.
ReplyDeleteIt's not the world, it's not Mother Earth's fault, but human society that's rotten to the core, and each of us is a part of it.
I believe there's a line between being good/kind, and this though.
I can understand helping a friend, but, if you have someone under your care, you don't act like this.
One can't save everyone, so priorities are needed.
And the priority is the people under your care.
Besides, in my opinion, there's things one shouldn't help with.
Self-inflicted things being one of them.
To incur such a big debt means you fucked up big time. There's always a progression on that type of mistakes.
Meaning there should be awareness that you're doing something wrong and thus a chance to sober up and stop.
The father going was taking partial responsability, if we're being factual here.
Because you're leaving that people behind without protection and support, in more than one sense.
I agree that hating doesn't help much in most cases, emotionally.
But, anger and hate sometimes are the push we need to go on with life when nothing else gives you the desire to.
One can build from there until letting go is really possible.
So hate isn't a purely bad thing. Like a weapon, it depends who's holding it.
Example of this is our MC, that needs strong emotion to make the flames strong.
Whem you had a shitty life it's easier to recall the bad.
At least we can see that MC can be happy too if the situation allows it.
MC has a long way to go for stability though.
Cada vez estos comentarios se hacen más grandes XD
DeleteThis... feels like i'm reading a diary, albeit with a spice of fiction on top of it. I don't feel like i'm reading a "story" if you get what i mean.
ReplyDeleteThat's society for you, you can't truly and fully trust anyone. Well, that's what edgy people say.
ReplyDeleteThe next button links to this chapter instead of the next one
ReplyDeleteThank You, Problem Solved
DeleteA tough read on the heart, it’s a shame an easy life isn’t often given
ReplyDeleteThe author sure knows how to pull people's heart strings and make them cry a river.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry I don't feel a single smidgen of pity for the father. There's a fine line between being kind and being stupid. In a resource limited setting, selfishness is a necessary and inherent trait of all sentient beings. And the scale of selfishness is directly proportional to intelligence. The dude forgot that and directly put his child and wife in danger from loan sharks. While the bad guys are bad guys, a father who forgot he's a father is not a good guy either.
ReplyDeleteThe child MC deserves pity though. That was not something any kid should've gone through.