Until now, I had only been looking at what had happened before I had died. Whenever I felt like my death was coming up, I replayed scenes from earlier in my life, far away from the time of my death.
The reason why I didn’t want to see when I died was simple. I was scared. I just felt uneasy about the situation that had brought on my death. Nobody would be very excited to see themselves dying. But I had been reading the book basically until I died, so I needed to go back to that time if I wanted to check.
“I said I don’t wanna see it. I don’t.”
I petulantly said, even as I drew the magic circle onto the piece of paper from earlier. This time, I put time time much later. Further, further, until the time when I had died.
I really didn’t want to see it.
As I poured my magic within the circle, I thought again.
Seriously.
Then, I pieced the image in front of me to the time when I had died.
I tried to find out when exactly I had found the book ‘Hestia and the Bastards’, but I couldn’t seem to figure it out.
I had been holding that book from some point onwards. I had just been carrying the book around from whenever it had happened. The title sounded like a romance, and the plot was a bit strange but had some interesting points. I read it here and there during work. I had allowed myself to read romance novels instead of anything else as entertainment.
Reading books were a healthy hobby, and I was able to forget about my life when I was immersed in the story. I loved the writing style and how the story progressed so much that I split my precious time here and there to read this romance novel.
To be honest, I had basically just read the romance that had been placed on top of the intense story beneath it. The story had been so dark that I’d just read enough to figure out the basics and had skipped a lot of it. That was why I barely understood the incredibly horrifying ending of the novel.
I could see myself wearing my part-time uniform and reading ‘Hestia and the Bastards’ while the store was almost empty. I had a vocabulary list next to the book and was reading through the pages with my chin on my hand, looking incredibly bored. I floated next to my past self to get closer. But wow, I looked unapproachable then too.
I floated next to my past self, Ye-an, and read the crux of the issue, the novel, together. I had always read the novel next to my past self in my dreams, so this wasn’t very awkward.
When I flipped to the last page while Ye-an wasn’t looking, the last page of the novel, the page that Hylli had given me, was still in the book. My present self was reading the end of the novel. I needed to figure out the backstory of everything that had happened, so I floated next to myself and read through the story. Wow, it was a fun read after so long.
[Swanhaden unsheathed the circular sword from his side and stabbed the face of the person directly in front of him. Underneath the pale moonlight, blood spattered unto his cruel smile…..]
My present self, who had been avidly reading through the novel, paused at that. They frowned and muttered to themselves. I also paused as I read that scene.
“This…..is a confession scene, right…..?”
Ye-an muttered as she raised an eyebrow.
I was more surprised than Ye-an at her words.
Oh, right, that scene.
It was the scene where Swanhaden brutally murdered everyone who tried to cozy up to Hestia in front of her. Then, after that, Swanhaden, that crazy son of a bitch, told her that he liked her.
At that time, I had no idea that I would live in the story of this book, so I just thought, ‘Wow, the author really likes gore.’ and had moved on. There had been a lot of scenes where the novel characters seemed morally corrupt at best, but I kept reading.
Yes, that was how it had been. I began to remember some of the more hazy parts of the novel. I did have dreams when I remembered the original novel’s contents, but they had been pretty unclear.
“Now that I’m reading it again, it feels really weird.”
I couldn’t help but be surprised as I sat next to my past self and read along with her.
First, I knew that all of the male characters were basically insane, but all of the romantic scenes in the novel seemed incredibly forced.
When the story progressed as it should, all of the male characters’ lines seemed to fit their personalities perfectly. But why did it feel so different whenever romance was introduced? It felt wrong, as if they were forcefully shoving romance into the scene.
Blood’s spurting everywhere, and then “I like you”! It looks like a battle’s about to happen, but then there’s a kiss out of nowhere! Kind of like that?
Moreover, this author seemed to hate Shuraina a lot.
Shuraina was written out with such such malice whenever she was in the story. Of course, her lines in the story fit the unfamiliar personality that Shuraina had, but it just felt a lot meaner than it had to be.
She was annoying, but she was also a pitiful character. She had an incredible amount of unfound confidence, and if a man showed even an iota of interest to her, then she automatically assumed they liked her. She was filled to the brim with showoffiness and vanity, and she was quick to move and say whatever came to her.
…….The author really wrote out Shuraina like an amoeba. How mean.
There were a lot of weird, strange parts in the story, but the story itself was still fun.
“Why, why’s the ending like this? Why is everyone dead? And what happened to Hestia?”
My past self skipped the blood-spattering parts of the story. When I reached the last page of the novel, I scowled and threw a small tantrum.
Just like how I remembered, Hestia didn’t get together with anyone.
Hestia didn’t seem too interested in falling in love with any of the male characters, too. Seeing how Hestia and Cory were friendly towards the end, I had assumed that she had a chance with Cory, but even Cory turned weird at the end of the novel.
All of them clung onto Hestia and liked her, but she became sick of them and had left.
And the place she had gone to was the mountain in the back of the school? Why did it have to be the mountain behind the academy, Hestia? Doesn’t that feel lame? The story literally went up the mountain.*
…..Anyway, even if the romance was a mess and the story went up the mountain, it was incredibly interesting.
My past self seemed miserable with annoyance after finishing the novel.
Ye-an touched the stiff hardcover of the book before rereading the ending once again. Then, she lightly threw the book onto the register counter.
“Ugh, that’s so annoying. It feels wrong.”
When I finished reading the novel, my part-time job had ended too. The novel was something I read to pass the time while customers were far and few, so I immediately moved on from the novel when it was time to go home.
After checking the time once, Ye-an picked up one of the triangle rice balls* she had collected to throw out and ate one while she changed clothes. She pulled her bushy hair into a ponytail and pinned her bangs up before standing up, probably to go to the restroom.
While my former self had gone to the restroom, I took out the book that she had put in her bag.
‘Hestia and the Bastards’ had an incredibly childish title, but the cover was beautifully, elaborately decorated. There was a fancy gold pattern at every edge of the book. A golden circle swirled inwards before spreading out like branches on a vine.
Maybe it was because of the elaborate pattern. Maybe it was because it had an incredibly thick cover, unlike modern books. But it felt like an old book. I touched the slightly yellow paper with my fingertips before checking the front and back of the novel.
“No author name or publisher.”
I frowned as I looked at the book that Ye-an had left behind.
Seriously, there wasn’t even a bit of information about the author. I had no idea when this sort of book had suddenly popped out. I wanted to get some more information about the current situation, so I looked closer at the book. I wondered if there was an author’s blurb or profile in the front of the book and checked again, but there was nothing.
I had to check and put the book back before Ye-an returned, so I had to rush. My past self wouldn’t be able to see my form, so it would just look like the book was floating on its own. She’d be freaked out.
I stared intensely as I flipped through the pages. I saw familiar names of familiar people, read the plot and saw the contents, and that was it.
It was just the title and the story.
“Wait,”
Or, that was what I had thought it had. Hold on.
The first page was a blank sheet of paper, and the second page was the title page. Then, the third page, the one that I had barely given a glance to, caught my eye.
I carefully read the contents of the page. It was a short sentence, but I traced the line with my finger.
{Begrudgingly, to my last hope}
“Last hope…..?”
Sometimes, authors would dedicate their authors and write out, “I dedicate this book to so and so.” or “To someone” and wrote out names of people they thought of as they wrote or people they were grateful for.
This person was looking for their last hope. And they said that it was begrudgingly. I wanted to figure out what that meant and wanted to read it more closely, but it was only that one line. It wasn’t even a complete sentence. ‘My last hope.’ That was it.
I stared at the page a bit longer to think about what that meant, but rushed to shove the book back into the bag when I heard Ye-an return.
But I noticed a pattern on the cover of the book as soon as I was placing the book back.
“That….!”
I had just assumed it was a pretty pattern that was placed for decoration, but it was a piece of a magic circle that had been placed on the corner of the book.
Before I could take a closer look or analyze the circle, Ye-an zipped her bag shut and headed out. I clicked my tongue as I watched my former self exit the convenience store. I was going to have to chase after her for that book now.
I grit my teeth and furrowed my brows without realizing it.
I didn’t want to see what happened after this again, but….
On a night when the wind was frigid cold, Ye-an blew a puff of warm air and stared at the night sky on her way back home. She gripped her backpack straps tightly as she blankly stared at the sky as she walked.
The shining stars seemed dim and far away because of the bright lights surrounding them. The fish bread* she had bought for her younger siblings were growing colder by the second. She licked her dry, split lips as they prickled, but they only grew drier as she licked.
It was the day I died.
Ye-an, so, my former self, was kicking a poor rock as she slowly walked back.
Her dark circles were basically touching her chin, and the neatly-brushed hair from the morning was a tousled mess. I clearly remembered the day I died, so I knew exactly what the lifelessly walking Ye-an was thinking of as she walked.
Ye-an was walking down a city street. It was a pretty late hour so it should’ve been empty, but there were quite a lot of people walking by because it was in the city. She didn’t want to hear the loud chatter of people, so Ye-an changed directions to walk on the streets where people lived.
She stared at her shadow as it grew bigger and smaller under the streetlight when she caught sight of a few students her age as they walked past her, still in their uniforms.
“We couldn’t hang out for too long because of cram school, so let’s go watch a movie tomorrow.”
“If you buy tickets for a horror movie without telling me, I’m going to kill you.”
My past self was staring miserably at a pair of students who had linked arms, still in their uniform.
Then, my former self turned her head and rushed to go home.
“I’m not jealous.”
Ye-an quietly muttered to herself, lips in a pout as she scowled. Her slow steps grew faster. I couldn’t help but smile bitterly as I stared at my former self.
Until now, I had only been looking at what had happened before I had died. Whenever I felt like my death was coming up, I replayed scenes from earlier in my life, far away from the time of my death.
The reason why I didn’t want to see when I died was simple. I was scared. I just felt uneasy about the situation that had brought on my death. Nobody would be very excited to see themselves dying. But I had been reading the book basically until I died, so I needed to go back to that time if I wanted to check.
“I said I don’t wanna see it. I don’t.”
I petulantly said, even as I drew the magic circle onto the piece of paper from earlier. This time, I put time time much later. Further, further, until the time when I had died.
I really didn’t want to see it.
As I poured my magic within the circle, I thought again.
Seriously.
Then, I pieced the image in front of me to the time when I had died.
I tried to find out when exactly I had found the book ‘Hestia and the Bastards’, but I couldn’t seem to figure it out.
I had been holding that book from some point onwards. I had just been carrying the book around from whenever it had happened. The title sounded like a romance, and the plot was a bit strange but had some interesting points. I read it here and there during work. I had allowed myself to read romance novels instead of anything else as entertainment.
Reading books were a healthy hobby, and I was able to forget about my life when I was immersed in the story. I loved the writing style and how the story progressed so much that I split my precious time here and there to read this romance novel.
To be honest, I had basically just read the romance that had been placed on top of the intense story beneath it. The story had been so dark that I’d just read enough to figure out the basics and had skipped a lot of it. That was why I barely understood the incredibly horrifying ending of the novel.
I could see myself wearing my part-time uniform and reading ‘Hestia and the Bastards’ while the store was almost empty. I had a vocabulary list next to the book and was reading through the pages with my chin on my hand, looking incredibly bored. I floated next to my past self to get closer. But wow, I looked unapproachable then too.
I floated next to my past self, Ye-an, and read the crux of the issue, the novel, together. I had always read the novel next to my past self in my dreams, so this wasn’t very awkward.
When I flipped to the last page while Ye-an wasn’t looking, the last page of the novel, the page that Hylli had given me, was still in the book. My present self was reading the end of the novel. I needed to figure out the backstory of everything that had happened, so I floated next to myself and read through the story. Wow, it was a fun read after so long.
[Swanhaden unsheathed the circular sword from his side and stabbed the face of the person directly in front of him. Underneath the pale moonlight, blood spattered unto his cruel smile…..]
My present self, who had been avidly reading through the novel, paused at that. They frowned and muttered to themselves. I also paused as I read that scene.
“This…..is a confession scene, right…..?”
Ye-an muttered as she raised an eyebrow.
I was more surprised than Ye-an at her words.
Oh, right, that scene.
It was the scene where Swanhaden brutally murdered everyone who tried to cozy up to Hestia in front of her. Then, after that, Swanhaden, that crazy son of a bitch, told her that he liked her.
At that time, I had no idea that I would live in the story of this book, so I just thought, ‘Wow, the author really likes gore.’ and had moved on. There had been a lot of scenes where the novel characters seemed morally corrupt at best, but I kept reading.
Yes, that was how it had been. I began to remember some of the more hazy parts of the novel. I did have dreams when I remembered the original novel’s contents, but they had been pretty unclear.
“Now that I’m reading it again, it feels really weird.”
I couldn’t help but be surprised as I sat next to my past self and read along with her.
First, I knew that all of the male characters were basically insane, but all of the romantic scenes in the novel seemed incredibly forced.
When the story progressed as it should, all of the male characters’ lines seemed to fit their personalities perfectly. But why did it feel so different whenever romance was introduced? It felt wrong, as if they were forcefully shoving romance into the scene.
Blood’s spurting everywhere, and then “I like you”! It looks like a battle’s about to happen, but then there’s a kiss out of nowhere! Kind of like that?
Moreover, this author seemed to hate Shuraina a lot.
Shuraina was written out with such such malice whenever she was in the story. Of course, her lines in the story fit the unfamiliar personality that Shuraina had, but it just felt a lot meaner than it had to be.
She was annoying, but she was also a pitiful character. She had an incredible amount of unfound confidence, and if a man showed even an iota of interest to her, then she automatically assumed they liked her. She was filled to the brim with showoffiness and vanity, and she was quick to move and say whatever came to her.
…….The author really wrote out Shuraina like an amoeba. How mean.
There were a lot of weird, strange parts in the story, but the story itself was still fun.
“Why, why’s the ending like this? Why is everyone dead? And what happened to Hestia?”
My past self skipped the blood-spattering parts of the story. When I reached the last page of the novel, I scowled and threw a small tantrum.
Just like how I remembered, Hestia didn’t get together with anyone.
Hestia didn’t seem too interested in falling in love with any of the male characters, too. Seeing how Hestia and Cory were friendly towards the end, I had assumed that she had a chance with Cory, but even Cory turned weird at the end of the novel.
All of them clung onto Hestia and liked her, but she became sick of them and had left.
And the place she had gone to was the mountain in the back of the school? Why did it have to be the mountain behind the academy, Hestia? Doesn’t that feel lame? The story literally went up the mountain.*
…..Anyway, even if the romance was a mess and the story went up the mountain, it was incredibly interesting.
My past self seemed miserable with annoyance after finishing the novel.
Ye-an touched the stiff hardcover of the book before rereading the ending once again. Then, she lightly threw the book onto the register counter.
“Ugh, that’s so annoying. It feels wrong.”
When I finished reading the novel, my part-time job had ended too. The novel was something I read to pass the time while customers were far and few, so I immediately moved on from the novel when it was time to go home.
After checking the time once, Ye-an picked up one of the triangle rice balls* she had collected to throw out and ate one while she changed clothes. She pulled her bushy hair into a ponytail and pinned her bangs up before standing up, probably to go to the restroom.
While my former self had gone to the restroom, I took out the book that she had put in her bag.
‘Hestia and the Bastards’ had an incredibly childish title, but the cover was beautifully, elaborately decorated. There was a fancy gold pattern at every edge of the book. A golden circle swirled inwards before spreading out like branches on a vine.
Maybe it was because of the elaborate pattern. Maybe it was because it had an incredibly thick cover, unlike modern books. But it felt like an old book. I touched the slightly yellow paper with my fingertips before checking the front and back of the novel.
“No author name or publisher.”
I frowned as I looked at the book that Ye-an had left behind.
Seriously, there wasn’t even a bit of information about the author. I had no idea when this sort of book had suddenly popped out. I wanted to get some more information about the current situation, so I looked closer at the book. I wondered if there was an author’s blurb or profile in the front of the book and checked again, but there was nothing.
I had to check and put the book back before Ye-an returned, so I had to rush. My past self wouldn’t be able to see my form, so it would just look like the book was floating on its own. She’d be freaked out.
I stared intensely as I flipped through the pages. I saw familiar names of familiar people, read the plot and saw the contents, and that was it.
It was just the title and the story.
“Wait,”
Or, that was what I had thought it had. Hold on.
The first page was a blank sheet of paper, and the second page was the title page. Then, the third page, the one that I had barely given a glance to, caught my eye.
I carefully read the contents of the page. It was a short sentence, but I traced the line with my finger.
{Begrudgingly, to my last hope}
“Last hope…..?”
Sometimes, authors would dedicate their authors and write out, “I dedicate this book to so and so.” or “To someone” and wrote out names of people they thought of as they wrote or people they were grateful for.
This person was looking for their last hope. And they said that it was begrudgingly. I wanted to figure out what that meant and wanted to read it more closely, but it was only that one line. It wasn’t even a complete sentence. ‘My last hope.’ That was it.
I stared at the page a bit longer to think about what that meant, but rushed to shove the book back into the bag when I heard Ye-an return.
But I noticed a pattern on the cover of the book as soon as I was placing the book back.
“That….!”
I had just assumed it was a pretty pattern that was placed for decoration, but it was a piece of a magic circle that had been placed on the corner of the book.
Before I could take a closer look or analyze the circle, Ye-an zipped her bag shut and headed out. I clicked my tongue as I watched my former self exit the convenience store. I was going to have to chase after her for that book now.
I grit my teeth and furrowed my brows without realizing it.
I didn’t want to see what happened after this again, but….
On a night when the wind was frigid cold, Ye-an blew a puff of warm air and stared at the night sky on her way back home. She gripped her backpack straps tightly as she blankly stared at the sky as she walked.
The shining stars seemed dim and far away because of the bright lights surrounding them. The fish bread* she had bought for her younger siblings were growing colder by the second. She licked her dry, split lips as they prickled, but they only grew drier as she licked.
It was the day I died.
Ye-an, so, my former self, was kicking a poor rock as she slowly walked back.
Her dark circles were basically touching her chin, and the neatly-brushed hair from the morning was a tousled mess. I clearly remembered the day I died, so I knew exactly what the lifelessly walking Ye-an was thinking of as she walked.
Ye-an was walking down a city street. It was a pretty late hour so it should’ve been empty, but there were quite a lot of people walking by because it was in the city. She didn’t want to hear the loud chatter of people, so Ye-an changed directions to walk on the streets where people lived.
She stared at her shadow as it grew bigger and smaller under the streetlight when she caught sight of a few students her age as they walked past her, still in their uniforms.
“We couldn’t hang out for too long because of cram school, so let’s go watch a movie tomorrow.”
“If you buy tickets for a horror movie without telling me, I’m going to kill you.”
My past self was staring miserably at a pair of students who had linked arms, still in their uniform.
Then, my former self turned her head and rushed to go home.
“I’m not jealous.”
Ye-an quietly muttered to herself, lips in a pout as she scowled. Her slow steps grew faster. I couldn’t help but smile bitterly as I stared at my former self.
