I stare at the familiar ceiling that I have done so countless times since I got into this world. After drifting through this new life for so long, I have for once stopped to think.
I don't want to be ungrateful for what I have now, and more importantly, I don't want this life to go to waste.
I have decided—I will decline Eileen and forget about this skill of mine. I also want to tell Yura how important she is to me.
As I pump myself with enthusiasm, this sleepless night just seemed to stretch on even further. I looked beside me to find Eileen sleeping with a serene expression. Of course, I didn't do anything, neither am I going to.
I offered for her to sleep on my bed and said I could sleep on the floor, but she just didn't agree with it. She wanted to sleep on the floor, but I couldn't just let my guest do that.
I gave up after seeing that she wasn't about to budge and asked if there's a compromise we could reach, and she surprisingly insisted on sleeping together. How could she be this defenseless? Men are like wolves, you know.
"I think I should get some fresh air."
I carefully tread around Eileen so as not to wake her up as I got off the bed. The wooden floor creaked slightly with my step as I put my feet down.
I walked through the bedroom, opening into the common room from where the door to the outside is.
I unlocked the simple lock and stepped outside.
As I looked at the bright full moon and solemn atmosphere, I took a deep breath. The night air is oddly refreshing.
"Having trouble sleeping?"
I was startled by the voice coming from beside me. I looked to the side to see Kur sitting on the ground. A white cat that I know very well is sleeping on his lap.
"What are you even doing here? You could have just asked if you needed a place to sleep."
"I am keeping guard."
"Oh, okay," I said, not sure how to reply to that. This village is particularly safe, and it's not like it's his job to protect the house of someone he just met today.
He seems just as eccentric as Eileen, I sighed.
I decided to ignore his weirdness and converse with him. I walked over to the other side and sat myself on the ground.
"I assume you aren't willing to leave with us?"
I didn't expect him to jump right into the heart of the matter. I was startled for a bit but decided to answer sincerely.
"No, there are more reasons than I can count why I don't want to leave this place."
Putting aside the matter of whether I even deserve to take part in his journey...
"I expected as much. It would be strange if you wanted to leave; after all, this is what you wished for so dearly."
"What are you—"
I have had this strange feeling with Eileen. Both of them talk as if they know me intimately from some time before, even though I have no recollection of ever meeting them.
"I can't answer any of your questions right now. But remember that you have to wake up from this dream someday. It can't go on forever."
The more he speaks, the more I am lost on what he is trying to say and how much he knows.
"Are you saying that I have no choice but to leave this place?"
"No, you have a choice. But knowing who you are, you would never choose anything but one predefined outcome."
Of course, there are hundreds of questions popping up in my head, but as he already said, he isn't going to answer any of them.
I simply looked up into the sky and basked in the cold moonlight. Not knowing what to say, I just kept my gaze fixed on the blue moon.
The next day...
Somewhere along the way, I got drowsy and decided to go back to sleep. Of course, I offered Kur to come inside and he denied. I paid him no mind and fell into a deep sleep the moment I hit the bed.
I could feel my consciousness returning as I heard the chirping of the birds and the clinking of metal.... Huh? Clinking of metals?
I got up and walked into the common room to catch a glimpse of Eileen in the kitchen. She seems to be cooking something. I am more or less used to being met with the unexpected, so I just walked into the kitchen and thanked her for taking the time to cook for me.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Oh, yeah. I did. Though I am the one who's supposed to be asking you that, as you are my guest."
"You don't have to treat me like that; think of me as your maid."
"Ah, oh okay," I will never understand what is going through her mind, and I don't think asking her is going to help. I know better than to protest and decided to go along with her.
Following her rhythm, I sat myself at the table after she was done cooking. She laid down the breakfast in a skillful manner and then served the dishes.
My breakfast consisted of bread with meat stew and some salted vegetables. It was modest, but that's no surprise considering I don't really have many spices or cooking utensils. But the stew was well-cooked regardless.
I thanked her for the food as we sat down to eat. I looked over at her engaging with the meal with small bites. I thought of starting a conversation but decided otherwise. She probably thinks it's bad manners to talk while eating or something.
After I am done with the meal, I chugged the milk and let the cup rest on the table. She seemed to be done as well, but she wasn't getting up yet. She seemed to be in some deep thought, and I decided to just sit and see what she was up to next.
"Somewhere I heard this one story about a hero."
"Oh," I exclaimed as I grinned over how you can never tell what she is going to say next. I am beginning to find this a little endearing.
"Will you listen to me retelling it?"
"Sure."
"There was this one boy, an ordinary boy. He wasn't special in any way, and no one expected him to do anything great. Neither did the boy expect so much out of himself. But as fate has it, he was given a miracle to be greater than anyone else. He thought of living selfishly, to enjoy the miracle he was granted, but that just wasn't something he could do even if he wanted to. For as long as he had the power, he felt responsible for saving others. Because he was the greatest one, he was the only one capable of saving this wretched world."
I was surprised by the tone of Eileen's storytelling. It's a commonplace story of heroes—a man being granted great strength and using it for the greater good—but she frames it in such a pessimistic way, as if it's somehow wrong to live like that.
"Do you not like the path the hero chose?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Why is that?"
"Because within all this power and responsibility, he forgot who he was: an ordinary boy. Just because he was made stronger than anyone else doesn't mean he had what it takes to be a hero. He neither had the love for humanity nor a genuine wish to save anything. He simply did so because he was the only one capable of it."
Eileen's face clouded over for a second as she began telling the conclusion of the story.
"His tale received an ending befitting someone ordinary; he couldn't save anything in the end. He went through countless ordeals, suffered through unimaginable pain, but all he had to show for it was failure. There was no point in the effort, no reward for the struggle. Within the world that met its doom, he simply became the object of people's hatred. They hated him as if he was the one responsible for it; they hated him for not being able to do an impossible task; and they hated him because he couldn't live up to their expectations."
"Can this... even be called the tale of a hero? He didn't achieve anything in the end."
"Maybe not, but to me, he shined greater than any real hero ever did."
I could feel how much this story meant to her, and I can see the beauty in it from a certain perspective. But isn't this just a tale of foolishness? Why would he choose a path of such ordeal when it was not even something he wished to become?
"You otherworlders are given the gifts to be stronger than others for much lesser effort than anyone else—miraculous skills overpowering all else, being able to level up faster than anyone else, being able to bring about the impossible. But do you think you will never face any pain or failure just because you are strong?"
Huh, was this tale about us? Did she mean something more than the literal words by this story? This reminds me.....
"Is this story about Kur? His skill was something befitting a hero. Is this what he had to go through?"
"How you choose to interpret this story and whom you choose to associate it with is up to you. Like I said, it's just a story. It doesn't necessarily need to mean anything more than a tale of amusement."
I can't really tell what she is thinking or feeling with that poker face of hers.
The way I imagined this sort of story about reincarnation and OP skills would go is like engaging in self-fulfillment—a power fantasy where the world is made to fold under your strength. One would simply engage in debauchery and save the world in the meanwhile, not as a struggle, but as an object of easy conquest for satisfaction and fame. The hole in this premise that I couldn't see before was the fact that it's only possible because the world is made to bend itself in favor of oneself. This doesn't happen simply because you are strong; it happens because the story is written that way.
I am uncertain of what I feel regarding the story Eileen just told me. It's foolish, but it's still something to be seen in admiration; it's a tragedy, but the character encompasses hope. It feels so distant yet so familiar to me.
"I wonder what the hero would think at the end of his journey. Do you think he would regret ever trying?"
"I don't know, that's for the hero to discover for himself."
Strange as ever, I thought as I contemplated over Eileen's words.
"I don't know why, but I feel like the hero would choose the same path all over again if given the chance."
"You think so?"
"Yeah." This comment of mine brought a light into her eyes that I hadn't seen since we met.