Before I realized it, the year is over.
On the third day of the new year, I have a part-time job at the pub from noon ‘til dawn.
There are still a lot of drunkards celebrating the New Year with alcohol, even though it was already the first Saturday of the new year.
As expected, the bar is in a state of pandemonium—I mean, great success.
But at around midnight, some drunk guys from this town and the neighboring one start a brawl in front of the pub.
The pub owner’s wife says, “You fight all the time, so you should be used to it, right? Go and stop them.”
What the heck?
It’s not like I get into fights all the time. And what does she mean by “should be used to it?” I haven’t been fighting so frequently that I’d get used to it. At least, I don’t think so.
There are many things in her statement that bother me, but for now, I push it to the back of my mind and stop the fight.
The number of people involved is quite a lot, making for a fierce brawl. Even if I attempt to talk things out, they may just ignore me and keep talking with their fists. I also don’t know who are in the wrong here, so I just knock them all out.
Whenever Lian stops the kids from fighting, he’ll say that both sides are in the wrong in a fight, so they have to be punished together. And I am of the same opinion.
In the end, I’m the only one left standing in front of the store, still and silent all around.
Although I stopped the fight, just like what the pub owner’s wife wanted, she hits my head. She scolds me, telling me that I overdid it.
“Things only get more troublesome when you’re here. Go back to the village before the police comes,” she says.
If it’s like this, won’t I look like the worst out of all of them? Even though I am the one who stopped their fight.
I leave for the village, saddened at being chased away.
I’m bothered. Try as I may, I don’t understand why she’s forcing me home, so it’s hard for me to accept it just like that.
And so I return to the church in a gloomy state.
During the fight outside the bar, someone hit my head with a liquor bottle, shattering the bottle to pieces and soaking me from head to toe. I’m not entering the church like this, so Marie hands me my pajamas first. And off I go to the bathroom.
After washing myself, I head straight for my bed since I don’t have anything else to do─
Lian is sleeping on my bed again.
What is he doing here?
Maybe he’s waiting for me?
No, there’s no way he’ll do such a thing. Calm down and wake up.
Maybe he heard from Marie or the kids that I will be staying at the bar again today, so knowing that my room will be vacant, he stayed in the church. That’s the reason Lian gave me the other day for why he was in my room last time. “Didn’t you say I can use your room when you’re not there!” he said, his face red in rage.
Because it’s cold, I slip into the bed for now. Lian frowns, but doesn’t chase me out.
He seems to be half-awake. “Warm…” he mutters before leaning closer to me, snuggling up against my chest.
He occasionally rubs his face on my chest like a cat, and breathes in my scent. Then he smiles, loosely clutching my pajamas. It is very, very cute.
Whenever I stroke his head, he sighs in comfort, his cheeks flushing slightly. The sight is no less adorable. And rather coquettish too… I can feel my lower body waking up.
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Nurturing the Hero to Avoid Death
Romantizm"Please, I implore you to save the world." This is what a goddess in white says to me in a pure-white space. Such is the standard line that suggests the game is about to begin. Please say this stirring line to boys and girls with sparkling eyes! It'...
