"Open the cupboard. Take out the whiskey and drink it.
I love that juicy taste, it's a liver thief.
Just give me one more sip."
I hummed my personally arranged theme song as I crawled toward the cupboard.
On three limbs, of course.
I don't know about a Happy Ending, but I reached the shelf, climbed up, stuck my hand in, and rummaged around.
—Clatter
Oops. I finally ran out of booze.
How long did I last? I don't know anything past the first week.
Even looking at the wall where I scratched marks with my sword to track the days, I can't make them out through my blurry vision.
The cigarette in my mouth is my last one, and my wallet's been empty for ages.
But don't worry, everyone.
I prepared for this in advance.
Crawling became too bothersome, so I just rolled around on the floor.
Every time I moved, the piles of empty bottles rolled along with me.
I swam through the cigarette butts and bottles decorating the floor until I reached the drawer beside the bed.
Ah, what used to be the bed, that is.
On the first day of my regression, the moment I got home, I smashed the bed to pieces.
I taught that wretched piece of furniture—one that made me picture Mace lying there just by looking at it—exactly who was boss.
I opened the first drawer.
Not here. Just a silver ring with two useless letters engraved on it, sitting there all alone.
I opened the second drawer. Empty, just like me.
The third one. Here it is.
I pulled out my special time machine that only I could use.
Specifically, a rope I bought from the general store—a finished product with a noose already tied.
I only realized it when I got to the store, but with this crippled hand of mine, I couldn't even tie a rope by myself.
I pointed at my neck and asked the sturdy shopkeeper lady to please tie a knot that would fit right here.
The lady stared at me for a long while, then said,
'I can't do that unless you tell me what you're planning to use it for.'
So I flicked a gold coin at her face instead of answering.
Money talks.
In the end, a soft rope—kindly oiled and tanned as a bonus—came into my possession.
Come again? Sure, sure.
Long live the Pater Empire. Ten thousand years to His Majesty the Emperor.
What exemplary civic consciousness.
Live like that your whole life and then drop dead, you fucking bastards.
I'm going first.
I hope someday an uprising or famine breaks out and this motherless empire gets wiped off the map.
My only regret as I die now is that I won't get to witness that spectacle.
I grabbed the table and barely managed to pull myself up.
After spilling so much alcohol in this damp, sealed space, the table legs had already rotted and wobbled under my weight.
The table's friend, the chair, had been smashed long ago.
The bed wouldn't break easily, so I beat it down with the chair.
The wooden fragments under my feet now are its corpse.
Swaying on top of the table, I threw the rope at the ceiling beam.
The rope just bounced off the ceiling a few times before falling limply, refusing to catch.
—Thud
It won't fucking catch.
Come to think of it, even after I get it hooked, I'll have to tie it again anyway.
Forget it. I'll just find a knife and stab myself in the neck this time.
—Knock knock
As I was rewinding the rope, I heard an unwelcome guest knocking at the door.
Ignore it. In about two minutes, we'll be strangers anyway.
Having made up my mind to go our separate ways, I climbed down from the table.
—Knockknockknockknockknockknock
Far from stopping, the knocking became neurosis-inducing noise that persisted relentlessly.
I was curious enough about which rude bastard it was that I couldn't die just yet.
Thinking I'd take them along as a traveling companion, I kicked the door open.
—Bang!
"Hgk!"
In one corner of my wave-like rippling vision, I saw someone get hit by the opening door and fall back.
I tried to identify the unwelcome guest clutching their slightly reddened nose bridge.
Sky-blue curls, academy uniform, tearful expression—it's Iris.
It's been a while, but I'm not particularly glad to see her.
Though I'd probably feel the same about meeting anyone right now.
"A-Ain... How could you push the door so hard...?"
"Goodbye."
"Eh? W-wait..."
As I grabbed the handle to close it again, Iris stuck her foot in the gap.
Then she thrust both hands into the space too, trembling as she began a tug-of-war with me.
"J-just wait... Why... T-talk to Unnie for a bit..."
"Nothing to talk about."
Fuck, she must have cast a strength enchantment again.
Maybe because I've been drinking even more than in my previous previous life, I definitely can't win.
I gave up and suddenly let go of the handle, causing Iris to bounce back and tumble down the steps in front of the door.
"Ow... That's too much..."
But Iris got up again and tried to grab the door.
I was too tired to keep struggling, so I just let go of the door and stood in the entrance.
If I moved any more, something was about to come up.
"...What's that?"
Iris's expression and tone suddenly hardened like when she's in front of others as she looked at me standing there.
Following Iris's gaze, I discovered the rope still in my hand.
I forgot about it. Should've tossed it before coming out.
"A tool for autoerotic asphyxiation. It's popular these days, so I thought I'd try it."
"A-a-a-a-a-auto!?"
Too lazy to make excuses, I just said whatever.
Iris stammered again, her earlobes and neck flushing bright red.
How old is she? Judging by her reaction, she's never even been with a man.
"If you're not going to watch, go home.
Even a younger sibling needs private time once they're grown."
—Bang!
The excuse didn't work.
Iris rushed forward and pressed her hand against the door with far more force than before.
The hinges shook with much louder noise than usual.
"L-lies... You're lying..."
"Want me to show you? Just wait a bit. I'll take my pants off now."
My hand heading toward my belt was caught by Iris.
She glared at me with such strictness I could mistake it for walking down the academy hallway.
Thinking I'd just break my wrist if I kept going, I obediently lowered my hand and entered the room.
My staggering gait nearly made me fall several times as I barely made it to the table.
"Sit anywhere. I recommend by the door. That's the cleanest spot."
I pointed to a place that only had dust instead of butts and bottles as I perched on the table.
Spitting out the cigarette in my mouth, I stared down at the floor as Iris approached.
Ignoring the homeowner's wishes, she moved the accumulated debris piece by piece to make space, then sat beside me.
"Y-your room... Um... It's really... messy..."
"That's putting it mildly. Like a pigsty, right?"
"A-Ain... Are you okay...?"
"Sure. I'm fine. Minus an arm and an eye, my whole body's in perfect balance."
After talking for the first time in ages, I wanted a cigarette more than ever.
Just in case, I searched my pockets, but only found broken ones and loose tobacco.
Seeing my gestures, Iris lit a flame in her hand like always.
"No thanks. I quit. What I just smoked was my last one."
"B-but there's so much cigarette smoke... And the smell of alcohol..."
I gave up on ventilation.
Rain that only made me regurgitate shitty memories was pouring down outside.
"They say quitting starts with the decision. Since starting is half the battle, I've already half-quit."
When Iris tried to touch my forehead like she used to check my temperature when I was little, I lowered my head further.
My already slurring tongue was making my pronunciation twisted, and now my voice got quieter too.
Iris tucked her hair behind her ear and brought her face even closer to mine.
"W-why did you drink so much... Y-you haven't been coming to the academy either..."
"Must be puberty. Mind your own business and go massage Douglas's shoulders."
"D-did you drink because of Father...? A-actually, I have something to talk about..."
"If you came to convince me to kneel under that bastard again, absolutely not."
"A-again...? D-did Unnie ever tell Ain about that...?"
It's so obvious now.
I want to praise your effort, at least.
Without answering, I just picked up an empty bottle beside me and held it up to my eye.
Looking through the refracted glass, even this house—worse than a pigsty—became somewhat bearable.
"I-I wrote several letters... W-why... is there only one at the door...?"
To answer her question, I snatched the letter from Iris's hand and went to the kitchen.
Even without cigarettes, I had more than enough matches from the tavern.
I lit a match, held it to the letter, and watched the white envelope turn brown, then black.
"From now on, do this with all the letters that come. Easy, right?"
When I turned to Iris, her wavering eyes were fixed on the burning letter.
The stern dignity she'd shown earlier had long since vanished.
What replaced it was pitiful sadness.
"A-Ain... You're acting strange today..."
"I told you. Puberty."
I gathered the still-hot ashes onto my palm and threw them toward Iris.
The ashes just scattered in the air, unable to reach her.
The interior became dirtied with snowflake-like ashes.
The filthy air grew even murkier and hazier.
Through that blur, I saw something blue and white approaching me without hesitation.
I couldn't avoid the hand reaching for my face.
Not because Iris was fast, but because I was too slow.
Not because she was quick like Mace, but because Ain was slow.
"A-as I thought... Your face is hot like it's burning..."
"I'm embarrassed having Unnie touch me at this age. Move your hand."
"L-let's at least go to the hospital... Okay? Or I'll buy medicine right away..."
"I said move your hand, Iris."
But with my hand losing strength by the second, all I could do was wave it feebly like shooing a fly.
I couldn't properly push away Iris as she kept pressing the back of her hand against my forehead and cheeks, comparing them to her own body temperature.
Perhaps because the hand that had been cooling in the breeze touched my burning body, my head gradually tilted.
The heat I'd been holding seemed to escape outside, and my vision began to flicker.
—Thud
"A-Ain?"
A dull impact starting from my head flowed through my entire body.
I must have collapsed straight onto the floor.
This body that hadn't had a single illness since childhood.
.
.
.
Perhaps the alcohol left along with the fever—the moment I woke up, I knew where I was.
The swaying and the sound of hoofbeats. Fuck, a carriage. The one Iris came in.
I opened the door in front of me and jumped out of the moving carriage.
"Huh? Ain? What are you..."
—Splash
Of all places, I landed in a mud puddle created by rainwater.
I flailed in the water entering my mouth and nose as I crawled away from the carriage.
With the sound of a whip crack, the carriage stopped, and I heard someone running toward me.
My shoulder was grabbed and I was turned around to face Iris, her expression far more rigid than before.
But the tears welling up covered the sternness.
When Iris opened her mouth, her pronunciation was clear without a single stutter.
"Are you insane? What are you doing! What if you hit something and died!"
"I'd be grateful... I'm absolutely not going to the hospital or the manor..."
"What are you, a five-year-old? Why are you being so stubborn!"
"Just let me live my own life... We won't even see each other's faces in a few months anyway..."
I barely managed to answer while spitting out the muddy-tasting water in my mouth. The heat still remaining in my body rapidly cooled in the mud.
"Are you doing this because you're afraid I'll take you to the manor? Did you hate it that much?"
"Yeah. I hate it. The manor, you, Douglas, all those other bastards—I find them all disgusting."
"Y-you... At least explain why you're acting like this..."
Iris's voice began to stutter again.
I just held my ankle that I'd twisted when I rolled out of the carriage.
Fortunately, seeing Iris's tears no longer made my heart ache.
I just wanted to escape this situation and environment, go back to my house, and finish looking for that knife.
Whether Iris knew my feelings or not, she was gripping her skirt so tightly it wrinkled.
Having made up her mind, Iris nodded once and crouched down.
Her yellow eyes, still beaded with undried tears, didn't waver in the slightest.
"If you don't see Father. Would that be okay? Are you that angry at Unnie too?"
"......"
I'm angry at myself.
At myself and at a certain someone who ruins everything I touch.
"I'll make sure you don't meet the manor's servants or our parents.
It has nothing to do with the proposal I was going to make earlier.
Ain, you're hurt. Not just your leg, but your face too.
You're covered in wounds. And your body's burning hot on top of that."
If I said it's fine because I can just kill myself, she looks like she'd slap me.
Whether I was surprised by this attitude I'd never seen from her, or just because of the pain in my leg,
my mouth wouldn't open.
"Let's go together. Okay? Unnie will take care of you."
I didn't have the right to refuse in this situation anyway.
Because I was forcibly supported by Iris's slender but strong arms as she lifted me up.