The Girl Wants to Be Murdered

TL/Editor: Butter Cat

Status: 4/week mon-thurs

Illustrations: none

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〈 Chapter 33 〉 Chapter 33. Arrogance.

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**

I enjoy observing things closely.

A red-tinged maple leaf, exuding the essence of autumn.

That single leaf, which we pass by without a second thought, might contain a deep history that we can't fully comprehend.

Isn't it, fascinating?

"—Do you like it?"

"Yes! The color is like Big Sis Elli's eyes, so pretty!!"

"....If you say so, I like it too."

Rattle, rattle, rattle. Inside the carriage, rattling along at high speed.

I was lying down with my head on Big Sis Elli's lap, gazing at the small maple leaf in my hand.

The ride in the bumpy carriage was far from comfortable, but none of us complained about it.

This moment was too precious to be wasted on such trivial matters.

I looked at the maple leaf, then at Big Sis Elli's eyes.

The more I looked, the more they resembled each other.

So pretty, so beautiful.

"Huh? Big Sis Elli, your face is red—!!"

"....It's just your imagination."

"Eh~? No it's not~? Heehee."

"...Honestly, you're such a handful."

Elli had pulled her hood down low to hide her face from others, but when I rested my head on her lap and looked up, I could clearly see her blushing face.

Her body, a little warmer than before.

Worried that she might get upset, I decided to stop teasing her.

A sudden relocation.

Elli and I abandoned our old house and set out for a new place to call home.

I didn't know the reason... Well, she must have her own reasons.

I just follow Elli's lead.

A sudden confession, starting with the words, "There's something I'm hiding."

Elli's passionate plea, asking me to trust her just one more time, even though she couldn't tell me everything, made me so happy that I nodded vigorously.

How could I not trust her?

How could I not be happy?

She had finally awakened from her long slumber, taking her first step as a human being.

I wanted to witness the end of her journey.

"Pat my head!"

"...As you wish. If it hurts at all, please tell me immediately."

"Heehee. Okay!"

Swish, swish, I closed my eyes, enjoying her gentle touch.

Her movements, so careful and focused, as if afraid of causing me even the slightest pain or discomfort, were adorable.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally drifted off to sleep, basking in a peace and happiness devoid of any worries.

"....By the way, Big Sis. What was the name of the village near the place we're going to?"

"Ah, I forgot to tell you."

Considering Elli's special circumstances, it was a suitable forest, close to a village where people lived, but not a place people would intentionally seek out.

Our new home.

"—It's Syria Village."

The carriage would soon reach its destination.

It was an end, but also a beginning.

I wondered what new encounters awaited me.

Lost in those thoughts, I drifted off to sleep.

Deeply, very deeply.

**

Many people jokingly say.

If they could go back in time, they could use their 'superior' knowledge to achieve greater success than anyone else, to live a life of comfort and ease.

Literature, engineering, academics, politics, entertainment.

They want to be praised and reign supreme among those they consider inferior, the people of the past.

It's just a hypothetical scenario, but we say that if it were possible, we could totally live like that.

Really, so arrogantly.

"Well — that's just how the world is."

It's just a form of escapism for people who are struggling to get by.

Just like me, in the past.

A delusion that most people want to believe in, that they, living in the present, are at least superior to the people of the past.

I'm actually not talented enough for this kind of work.

Others, don't recognize my talent.

I'm, a little, better than those around me.

Yes.

I might be, a little, smarter.

Because unlike them, I know that the earth is round, that objects with mass attract each other, that light has both wave and particle properties.

Because those people, who didn't even know such simple things, seemed so pathetic.

Haha.

—Even though, I can't even properly explain why the sky is blue.

"Ugh…"

Thump, thump, thump. I beat the laundry with a steady rhythm.

My arms ached, and my legs, crouched low, trembled, but I couldn't stop, thinking that each of these actions would be converted into money.

Water splashed with every beat of the washing bat. (TL Note: Fun fact in the afterword)

"Ughhh... Why are there so many clothes to wash today… I'm dying, Rumi…"

"Han. Wouldn't it be better to move your hands a little faster instead of complaining?"

"Yeees…"

Uegh, Mama is being mean…

I told you not to call me Mama.

Ouch—!?

Slap.

"Uuu…"

In a book with a similar story, the protagonist was so handsome that he could pick up anyone he wanted, so why am I stuck here, doing this?

Clutching my throbbing head, I reminisced about the past blunders that had led to my current financial situation.

So, it was a long time ago, a time I can't even remember properly.

I once tried to create the epitome of modern artifacts, a pen, using all my knowledge.

This is a hit! That’s what I thought back then.

I somehow managed to recall the memory of disassembling a pen during class, drew up a crude blueprint, commissioned it to a blacksmith, and struggled to gather the necessary materials.

It was a plan that I had poured all my savings into, money I had painstakingly saved by helping with household chores with my swollen fingers.

To make a small change in this stagnant life.

No.

Or perhaps, was it a gamble to preserve my sense of identity in this tedious life?

Well, it doesn't matter now.

Anyway, I did my best, within my capabilities.

And naturally, the result was...

Yeah, it was a complete failure.

Totally.

The ink wasn't what I had imagined, and the parts I had commissioned from the blacksmith couldn't even be assembled properly.

The smelting, the casting, everything was vastly different from the modern era.

Technology, doesn’t advance because of a single genius.

No, maybe they're not even geniuses.

It's the ordinary people who observe and imitate the technology created by geniuses.

Ink leaked from the back of the nib when I turned it upside down, it was too thick to hold comfortably, it was a complete failure that I would have immediately thrown in the trash back then.

A complete piece of junk, not even worthy of being called a prototype.

Naturally, the funds I had saved for my trip to the imperial capital went up in smoke.

Poof, just like that.

.....Damn it.

"Uwaaaaaaaaah—!!!"

"...Your usual tantrum, I see."

Thump, thump, thump, thump, I slammed the washing bat down with all my might, channeling my rage. I heard someone clicking their tongue beside me, but I didn't care, it was a common occurrence.

At this moment, I was a lone Don Quixote. (TL Note: Author really likes old novel, this is from an old Spanish novel.)

A single knight, fighting against a monstrous creature (laundry).

This is the enemy of my money!

And this too, the enemy of my money!

Wham, wham, I swung the washing bat recklessly, thrashing the clothes.

As I started beating them with all my might, the pile of laundry quickly dwindled.

And naturally, I made a mistake.

—Thwack!

A clear sound, different from the sound of hitting fabric, as if I had struck something hard.

At that moment, I instinctively knew.

I messed up.

"Aaaaagh—!!! My haaaand!!!"

"......"

The washing bat, swung with force, had hit my innocent hand instead of the clothes, and I rolled around on the ground, writhing in pain.

Mama... It hurts… Huu, make it better…

….This is driving me crazy.

Rumi, my friend, was staring at me with a look of utter disappointment.

Her eyes couldn't hide her disgust.

"Haah."

No, she wasn't even trying to hide it.

She was looking at me with a "This is my friend?" expression, as if she couldn't believe it.

With a harsh, judgmental gaze, like she was looking at a good-for-nothing NEET who stayed cooped up at home all day.

Without a shred of sympathy or hesitation, Rumi gathered her finished laundry and slowly got up.

"...I'm going back first."

And then, she abandoned me.

"Rumi!? R-Rumi!? Are, are you really leaving me—!? Hey!!"

"Bye-bye, Han. See you later—....Actually, let's never see each other again. It was fun while it lasted."

"Eeeeeeh—!?"

Just like that, my only friend in this village, the only one who was kind to me, Rumi, coldly abandoned me and left.

My fingers ached and throbbed.

I wanted to chase after Rumi and go back, but the pile of laundry, still far from finished, kept me rooted to the spot.

I think I finally understand why washing machines didn't exist in the Middle Ages.

You can just use people, so why bother with a washing machine?

Both cost money anyway, haha.

"Hngg…"

I couldn't help but shed tears at this harsh reality.

A teardrop fell.

But because they landed on my already soaked and swollen white hand, the tear vanished without a trace.

"......."

Yes.

Just like me.

Without any meaning.

It vanished, just like that.

**

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**** (TL Afterword)

So fun fact in the Middle Ages, people would first clean their clothes using soap from animal fat or ashes then quite literally beat the dirt out with sticks or ‘washing bat’. This method worked really well and is used by almost everyone, since it didn’t exactly need soap to clean the clothes, though the smell would remain.