Chapter 81

EP.81 A Calm Daily Life and the Runaway Child

As I stepped outside, I suddenly began to look around.

The warmth emitted by the midday sun failed to fully reach the ground, still buried under fragments of winter, and dissipated.

I involuntarily exhaled, and the breath immediately froze, turning into a white mist.

When did it get so cold?

Even in such cold, or perhaps because of it,

The sky was so clear that not a single cloud could be seen.

It was a clear day.

A day I dislike.

A sharp chill pierced through my thin cardigan, tormenting my skin.

However, I didn't feel particularly cold.

Perhaps my body was that healthy.

No, even so, there are limits.

This was probably due to the alcohol I had been drinking non-stop before leaving home.

Why? Russians pour alcohol into their stomachs to ward off the cold, don't they?

How much soju did I drink?

Three bottles? Four bottles?

Without any proper side dishes, I drank so much of that red liquid, so it's not that strange that I don't feel the cold now.

I walked aimlessly and endlessly.

Like a lost child, or a child who had run away from home in a huff.

Ran away in a huff.

I didn't want to admit it, but that expression was exactly right.

Unable to hear a few words of praise, I drank and whined all day, turned off the broadcast in a fit of anger, and ended up in a state of pseudo-running away.

I'm such a fool.

I mocked myself several times, but unlike usual, there were no signs of self-loathing taking root.

Normally, at this time, I would think it was all my fault, beg for forgiveness from someone I didn't even know, and feel extremely depressed. Why not now?

Perhaps this too is the power of alcohol.

Someone once said,

The world looks as beautiful as the amount of alcohol you pour into it.

I was half in agreement with that.

The sunny weather I usually dislike looks so sparkling and beautiful now, surely because I've had some alcohol.

I keep talking about alcohol, but I wasn't that drunk.

I only drank enough to feel good, so it's natural.

I won't deny that I felt a bit tipsy,

But the difference between my usual self and now is,

When passersby freeze or avoid eye contact or, conversely, stare at me as if hypnotized, I meet their gaze with a friendly smile and a wide grin.

Ah.

I smiled, and that person's face turned red.

Why?

"..."

Why, indeed. Pretending not to know.

I let out a snort, pretending not to notice the sneer forming in a corner of my heart.

It was all good up to that point.

The problem was that it was only good up to that point.

My bold steps, taken with courage, eventually led to aimless wandering because I couldn't find a destination.

Why did I even come out?

As I thought earlier, in a huff, to throw out the trash, because there was nothing to do at home...

...

There's nothing to do outside either.

With no proper friends or hobbies, there's no way I would suddenly have something to do just by going outside.

I thought about going shopping for clothes, but I didn't really feel like it.

I didn't want to return home and hurt my pride, but what should I do?

I wandered the streets for a while.

My neighborhood is old and rundown, but it has a unique charm because of that.

The downtown area has developed somewhat, but from the outskirts of the far end of the horizon, endless fields stretch, filled with the scent of grass.

Is it an advantage or a disadvantage to be able to feel both urban and rural scenery at the same time?

It would be a charming neighborhood if it weren't for the stray animals that howl at night.

While having such trivial thoughts, I didn't stop walking, and before I knew it, I arrived at a park I had visited before.

The park with the convenience store.

Without a specific destination in mind, I ended up at a familiar place.

I looked for a place to sit.

I wasn't that tired from walking, but I wanted to clear my thoughts.

A wooden bench was conveniently nearby.

I went over and sat down.

A drowsy feeling came over me.

Sometimes, it might be good to be out like this.

Not to meet someone, not to buy food or clothes, but just to take a walk in the sunlight outside, for no reason at all.

I don't go out enough.

"..."

I've changed.

I mean, I've already taken action on thoughts that I used to just mock.

I used to hide inside because I was afraid of people, but now...

When did it start? I'm not sure.

It's not a bad feeling.

While half-closing my eyes, I started to hear chirping sounds around me.

Small, nameless birds, which you might only see in the countryside, started to gather around.

It's strange. I didn't have any seeds, so why? It can't be because they think I'm pretty.

Come to think of it, the saint was said to be loved by animals, too.

But that's just a setting I made up.

A delusion that wouldn't even apply in the game.

If you think about it, it's absurd that I suddenly turned into the saint overnight.

I accepted this phenomenon as it was.

Curious about the few birds chirping around me, I extended my hand forward,

And one of them perched on my fingertips and started chirping at me again.

It was a scene you might see at a circus.

At the same time, I had a slightly unsettling thought.

Now, it's just pretty and small birds, but what if rats or pigeons start swarming around?

They're animals too.

I don't like that idea.

But it seemed I didn't have to worry about that, as the pigeons by the park fountain didn't seem to pay much attention to me.

If they started clinging to me, covered in all sorts of filth, it would be a big problem, but on the other hand, I felt a bit let down.

I did say that only pretty and cute things would gather, didn't I?

What a convenient setting.

While thinking about this, the bird on my fingertips tilted its head and gently pecked my hand.

It seemed to be showing affection.

But the messed-up me, of course, had messed-up thoughts.

If I were starving and had no money, I would...

"..."

Why, there's a story about Ernest Hemingway being so hungry that he caught and roasted a pigeon in the park with his bare hands.

In that sense, little bird, whether you're a sparrow or a finch,

You're lucky.

Did the eerie thought somehow get transmitted? The bird that was pecking my hand was startled and flew away.

The birds that were circling around me also started to fly to nearby trees.

Well, that's enough of this ridiculous sentiment.

I've rested long enough and taken a walk. Since there's nothing else to do, I should go home.

Thinking about it, if I was upset that viewers only talked about my chest and didn't praise me, I could just turn off the broadcast and only play games.

As I got up,

There was a gaze looking up at me.

Looking up at me.

A small child.

A child whose gender I couldn't tell, hiding behind a utility pole.

About twelve or thirteen years old, by the looks of it.

Smaller and more pitiful and anxious than the birds, it was very unsettling.

My mood started to sour so quickly that I was surprised.

Why? The child didn't do anything to me.

It's not because they were secretly watching me; those innocent eyes were too pure.

I don't usually react much to people who look at me from head to toe, so it was strange that a twelve-year-old child looking at me a little would make me feel so bad.

I soon found the answer.

No, a sense of déjà vu forced me to the right answer.

The child resembled my past self.

"..."

Not in appearance, but in the aura.

Small, scrawny, shoulders slumped, lacking confidence, and with a sadness in those innocent eyes that didn't fit their young age.

Even the way they flinched as if burned when my gaze met theirs.

My body moved on its own.

The child, who was about to run away, stopped when I approached.

As I stared, the child, as if resigned, lowered their head and apologized.

"Um, it's not that, I didn't mean to, it's just that you were so, so beautiful, I'm sorry..."

I understood.

I felt it intuitively.

I saw through it consciously.

The way they stammered, as if seeing a person was a great sin, was clearly calculated.

I don't have