I Start with a Bad Hand!

As Irene walked towards the door, she suddenly stopped and turned to look at me. Then, awkwardly opening her arms, she hugged me and patted my back.

“Today… you’ve been through a lot.”

It was a party I threw wanting to say that to you. I’ve been bothered that I couldn’t say it. Irene, in an uncharacteristic manner, looked even more embarrassed as she awkwardly tried to justify her actions.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing…”

I stared blankly at Irene. Now her ears were red too. “I’ll be going now,” she said, and I came to my senses, nodding and opening the door for her. As Irene started to step away, she hesitated and spoke again.

“Can I come by occasionally to have tea like this?”

Something in my heart that seemed broken began to tick again, like a clock starting to work. I nodded. Irene, saying “Take care then, sleep well,” walked down the dark hallway and faded into the distance.

I absentmindedly closed the door and slumped down at the table where we had been sitting. The two cups of tea, untouched, still sat there. Wrapping my hands around one cup, I looked out the window just as Irene had done.

The tea was still warm. It seemed that warmth had enchanted my heart, dispelling the feelings of powerlessness and loneliness that had shaken me all day. Those cold, clumsy, and awkward beings had somehow erased the day’s discomfort.

I looked at Dietrich’s reflection in the window. I thought that all I could do for Dietrich was to prevent people from finding the sudden changes in Dietrich odd, being almost imperceptibly present. But these strange warmth had shaken the resolve I thought I had for helping Dietrich.

Dietrich’s life will go on even after I leave. While the sudden changes in life that greet Dietrich one morning may be startling, I hope they won’t be as lonely as before. I hope that Dietrich inhabits this body and gains more memories than the ones I took away from that child. And so, I hope the life Dietrich leads henceforth will steer towards an ending different from the original story.

I wish for a life that, though once tainted with misfortunes big and small, feels as much sparkling warmth and joy. Holding a bad hand already, yet hoping for the moments yet to turn the unseen cards. Hoping that even when life brings moments of despair, there is always the strength to rise again.

Somewhere cold, clumsy, and willful… but not left alone, wandering aimlessly—surrounded by people who cannot bear to leave Dietrich alone.

My daily life flowed similarly to before. I ate alone, attended classes alone, and spent most of my remaining day either in the library or at the archery range. Perhaps due to the Ducal House or thanks to Irene, the incidents in the student council office passed more quietly than I had anticipated, but the gazes following me remained.

However, there were changes.

Irene now visits my dormitory whenever she has time to drink tea. The Second Prince teases me during every Regional Studies class we share, prodding me about when I will return his school jacket. Yuri, who had seemed down for a while, now appears out of nowhere in secluded places as if conducting a spy operation, meets me, and then disappears.

Occasionally, Cedric still looks displeased when he sees me, but he no longer picks fights as he used to.

‘Seems like the possessed crazy old man got exorcised.’

The silence of my daily life was now filled with pleasant chatter instead of the discordant noise of an out-of-tune radio. The weather was warming up, and I felt the light spring breeze as I walked to class.

The academy was beginning to bloom with flowers, heralding the upcoming spring ball. Students, busy preparing for the event, bustled around carrying bouquets of flowers. Yet, beneath this colorful facade lay the cruel reality of upcoming midterm exams.

Whoever scheduled the ball right before midterms might have been malicious, but the academy looked as beautifully adorned as spring itself, causing even my heart to flutter.

However, I had to continue studying intensely to maintain the scholarship I received for entering as the salutatorian. All classes were manageable, except for the insanely difficult Regional Studies class, which worried me a lot. Surprisingly, I found help from Irene.

“Here are last year’s class materials. …Just use these for reference, don’t rely too much on them.”

It turns out Irene was also a determined freshman who had taken this crazy subject last year.

The thick stack of reports Irene passed to me brought an unprecedented level of confidence. I now entered class with the smug expression of a well-fed predator.

“Looks like you brought the school jacket today,” the Second Prince would comment each time.

The playwriting class was also midway through. For our midterm assessment, we had to create and present a soliloquy drama, which involved collaborating with the drama club members.

Internally, I felt sorry for whoever had to perform my ‘masterpiece’ “Romiët and Julianus.” Despite my best efforts, compared to others’ works, my play seemed no more than a stack of tainted paper.

In the end, I hastily submitted my second play, ‘Lamhit,’ to the professor. Unlike my first work, which started from scratch, I thought there would be some improvement somewhere.

At first, the professor read it with a serious expression, but when about 25 people had died in the play, his expression rapidly worsened, and he called me in for a separate consultation.

“…Have you been experiencing any difficulties at the academy lately?”

I hadn’t expected him to ask such a concerned question.

Eventually, I changed my mind and chose ‘Romiët and Julianus,’ a play where only about four people die, for the mid-term evaluation.

My partner was a petite girl named Agnes. Her slightly upturned, cat-like eyes matched her innocent expression well. After exchanging brief greetings, we immediately plunged into practice.

“You. Are. Beau. Ti. Ful. Ro. Miët.”

‘No…!’

I could instinctively feel it the moment Agnes first uttered her line. This person was… truly not wasting my script with her awful acting…

It seemed Agnes realized it too, right after she read her first line. Why we had become partners… We were a disastrous combination of talentless actors, who felt fortunately matched in our ineptitude. We exchanged glances of relief and began practicing our acting.

“From. The. Mo. Ment. I. First. Saw. You. Did. I. Know. My. Fate…?”

Thus began a hellish collaboration that filled the drama class.

***

Since encountering the priest in the temple, I truly started needing money. It was time to pull together some emergency funds as quickly as possible.

‘That young priest told me to come back in the winter, but… I still need to save up enough money to meet the archpriest, just in case.’

That priest might not graduate…

However, there weren’t many legal ways to make money as a student. Moreover, the academy fundamentally prohibited students from holding jobs while enrolled.

‘Damn it.’

I racked my brain, carefully organizing the information from the original work and what Dietrich had about the empire. I ruled out plans that took too much time or were too risky, and unrealistic ideas like making a fortune from a play script.

At the very end of the list, only one plan remained. I tapped my pen on the paper, which listed ways to make money, deeply engrossed in thought.

‘I can’t say there’s no risk. I’m not even sure if it’s feasible according to my plan….’

Using information from the original work seemed like a possibility, but… I needed information. Information that could truly assess the feasibility. I pushed back my chair in the library and stood up, ready to meet someone who could help.

“Professor, have you ever participated in the empire’s autumn hunt?”

When Agatha came over to adjust my posture for holding a bow, I asked her casually, trying to sound indifferent. Agatha, still focusing on my stance, replied,

“Once, after I graduated from the academy. Why?”

“How was it?”

“Just curious.” I muttered evasively, and Agatha adjusted my stance a bit more.

“It felt less like a hunting contest and more like a walking competition.”

I pulled the bowstring and released the arrow. It hit the center of the target effortlessly. I felt like my skills had improved a bit since that training in the rain.

Trials have made me grow. I muttered to myself, sounding like a protagonist from a sports manga, and then I asked Agatha again,

“A walking competition?”

“The hunting grounds are about half the size of a rural village… it’s hard to spot the game.”

“I’m not sure how many hours I wandered around trying to catch even one. Any slight noise and they’re already running away from afar.” Agatha grumbled and then asked me,

“Why, thinking of going?”

I closed my mouth at that question. There was something else I wanted to ask about more than the hunting contest.

“If I were to go, assuming there’s nothing wrong with my leg… thinking of participating in the hunt…”

“What do you think I’d be capable of, professor?” 

Agatha turned to look at me and then seriously asked,

“What do you mean by ‘to what extent’? Ranking in the hunt?”

“That, and also, the probability of coming back unharmed if I were to encounter a wild beast.”

“Thinking about my chances of survival if I were aiming my bow at a beast.” I added, and Agatha answered with a serious face,

“I’m not sure.”