Miss, stop committing suicide

Chapter 10

If there were a deeply religious person listening to this conversation, they would likely point fingers at me for daring to insult God. My already non-existent reputation would only sink further.

God, huh… Before I opened my eyes in this place, I had never set foot in a church. 

My only exposure to religion or doctrines came from a few forced words I had to hear from a Jesus-freak friend who fervently believed in God.

But in this world, most people believe in a single god.

Thanks to that, I’m also dragged to a religious facility — whether it’s a church or a cathedral, it doesn’t really matter — inside the academy once a week.

While I was thinking, Why do I have to go through all this?, I saw one disgustingly handsome man leading the worship, and I realized something.

All the flashy, unnecessary world-building was just a backdrop for that handsome man who preaches God’s words and for Vivian’s story.

Well, there’s no way that the benevolent God he talks about actually exists.

In romance novels, there’s always one of them.

A beautiful saintess in male-oriented novels, and a handsome saint in female-oriented ones.

Anyway, if I get to the point, the gist of what they say is that humans who don’t believe in God are uncivilized and not part of society — in other words, they aren’t even considered human.

They claim that the reason some nobles and royals are treated differently is because God has chosen to bestow special grace upon them.

That’s why, even in this world where “all are equal under God,” there are still slaves, commoners, and nobility who wield magic.

Apparently, everything that happens in the world is preordained by the omniscient and omnipotent God. So, we’re supposed to always believe in and follow Him.

If that’s the case, does that mean I’m supposed to accept all the unreasonable treatment I’ve faced since falling into this world because it was God’s will?

The thought makes me feel like I’m spiraling into despair.

“Vivian.”

“…Yes.”

“I’m rejecting your invitation to eat. And don’t come looking for me out of concern either.

We’re not friends. I mean, you already have so many impressive friends, so why do you keep coming to me?”

I asked the part I least understood.

But Vivian just sniffled, showing no intention of answering.

I let out a sigh as I looked at her.

“…Whether someone is impressive or not, approaching someone you want to get close to is natural, isn’t it?”

“That kind of thing happens naturally in novels filled with dreams and hope, or in fairy tales.

But in reality, everyone naturally sizes each other up when they meet someone.”

If I hadn’t died, I’m sure there would have been a scene in the novel where Vivian and I met.

But unlike now, I probably would have poured out all my emotions — ugly, stubborn, and unsightly — instead of speaking calmly.

“Besides, Vivian, I don’t like you.”

“Yeah, I figured you didn’t.”

The reply didn’t come from a woman’s voice.

When I turned my head, I saw Evan holding a book, seemingly eavesdropping on our conversation.

The way he leaned casually against the wall, as if he was ready to move at any moment, gave me the impression he thought I might slap him.

“Erica, why can’t you just get along with everyone?

Why can’t you just smile and laugh, like how our parents used to handle people they didn’t like?

Even if someone sent assassins after them, they still met those people with a smile.”

I cut off Evan’s nonsense before he could continue.

“Well, that household’s been burned down and in ruins for quite a while, so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I said it with a smile, and he shut his mouth.

He looked a little flustered.

Most people who grow up only looking at books and their parents turn out that way.

They focus on a single thing and neglect everything else, so they can’t react properly when something unexpected happens.

They just freeze in confusion, unable to do anything.

I’m not saying this applies to everyone, but it’s something I’ve observed through experience.

I turned to Vivian and spoke.

“Those kids who hated you when we were little probably didn’t hate you for the same reasons I do.”

They probably didn’t. Most of the boys in town probably had a crush on her.

“But I’m a reasonable person, so I’ll tell you the reason I hate you.”

While claiming to be “reasonable,” I openly declared my dislike for her.

It felt like I was embodying one of those stories where a hunchbacked, eccentric inventor of garter belts sneers, bursting into laughter.

Ah, even her current expression, waiting for my answer, was adorable. It made me feel jealous.

How pathetic of me to have picked a fight and tried to drive Vivian away from Evan.

If I had just told her not to come near me or Evan, would she have listened?

It’s a meaningless hypothetical.

There’s no way Evan would listen to me and stop meeting Vivian, and Vivian would have continued approaching me just as she’s doing now.

Even Evan seemed curious, tilting his head as he looked at me.

He probably didn’t think the situation was that serious. And since I was calm from the start, he probably assumed it wasn’t a big deal.

Fine, I should end this cleanly.

As always, I’ll pretend I wasn’t the one who got angry in front of Vivian.

“Are you saying… you have a reason?”

There’s no way I would act so uncouthly, rudely, or ungracefully — lacking all manners and respect — as to resort to violence.

Then, it hit me.

Maybe I was just making up reasons to dislike Vivian.

Like how she might be seducing Evan, how she might be looking down on me, or how it might be because of my lower status.

Perhaps I had crafted all these reasons just to convince myself.

Should I just lie?

If I’m being honest, I don’t think I actually hate Vivian all that much.

I’ve said it over and over again — I’ve thought about it to the point of exhaustion — but who could truly hate this lovely girl?

You might be able to feel jealousy, sure. But that’s as far as it goes.

It’s more like marveling at something beautiful.

Like gazing at a masterpiece on a wall — one that the artist poured their soul into.

I claimed I would tell her the reason, but when I stayed silent, Vivian’s expression turned slightly puzzled.

I raised the corners of my mouth, took a deep breath, and sneered. I pulled together every negative aspect of myself to craft the most scornful smile I could muster.

“I bet you’re a little curious as to why I’m not saying anything. But how am I supposed to speak when I don’t have a reason, huh?”

She smirked, letting out a small laugh.

Well, I’m not crying.

Of course not. We’re grown-ups now. No one cries just because of a few words exchanged like this.

“No matter how many delicious cookies you bring me, no matter how kindly you treat me, no matter how many times you come looking for me late at night, worried about me, no matter how many times you come back like this, saying you want to be friends again, or that you’ll apologize if you’ve done anything wrong, I think I’ll still hate you.

No matter what I say to Evan, it always feels like he prefers you over me.

Vivian, I really… I truly despise you.”

I mean, she must have gone around looking for me right after class ended and lunchtime began. That’s probably how she found me here.

“Erica Mecklenburg, stop talking.”

“Don’t interrupt me. I’m not done yet… No, actually.”

And yet, here she is, trying to stop me from talking because she thinks I might hurt Vivian’s feelings.

If even this isn’t proof that Evan likes Vivian, then I don’t know what is.

“Why? That name attached to this girl will soon disappear anyway.

Wouldn’t it be simpler to just call her by her name alone? Oh, but I guess our little bookworm here wouldn’t think of something like that, huh?”

“Why are you saying stuff like that…”

Evan looked flustered, his face showing a mix of shock and confusion — though I suppose those two words mean just about the same thing.

He had the same look on his face as that one time I climbed a tree and accidentally fell on top of him.

“Spare me your words. I don’t want to hear anything from someone like you who only knows how to bury himself in books.

You hate me so much that you’d rip me to shreds with words alone.

You despise me that much. You just… hm.”

I bit my lip.

A faint taste of blood spread in my mouth.

I could feel it trickling.

Maybe it was just drool. Yeah, I might be thinking too much about it.

When emotions swell up like this, it becomes hard to control your body.

Even my speech pattern stops sounding like a “proper young lady.”

Did it run away somewhere?

Not that it matters.

If I want, I can just do it myself.

Mimicking someone else’s tone of voice is an easy thing for me.

“I’m not very good at talking. I’m not here to pick a fight. I’m sorry.

Just… I’m sorry for everything.”

And then, I laughed.

Maybe it was because my emotions had swelled so high that I felt like I’d burst.

Even though I hadn’t broken down from something as harsh as being seared by a matchstick, I was crumbling now — over something as trivial as this.

“…Erica.”

Evan called out to me.

He said my name.

Even if he calls me, though…

Living like this isn’t so bad.

Not much time left, anyway.

That thought slipped from my mouth before I realized it. And surprisingly, it came out perfectly fine, just like that.

“Evan. And Vivian. So, don’t come near me anymore.

Just leave me alone. That’s all I ask. Really, that’s more than enough.”

I don’t feel sad, or hurt, or angry, or even miserable.

There’s no point in amplifying those kinds of emotions anymore.

After a while, they become so simple that they feel empty.

I glanced at Evan.

He didn’t seem particularly interested.

He looked a little flustered, sure, but that was it.

There wasn’t a single thread connecting us anymore.

The thread that had once tied me to this world… The only one left now is the one attached to this body of mine.

Other people are held in place by countless threads tied to the world around them.

But I have only one.

And that makes it all the easier to cut.

I decided to leave, taking one last mischievous glance at Evan and Vivian.

Leaving them behind in that awkward atmosphere felt oddly satisfying.

Then, I returned to the room where I’d be preparing for my journey.