I write an Isekai about communist revolution until an anime is made out of it

The Company of Myself

There was no shortage of less-than-dramatic sorting-out to handle before I could actually ride off into the night. I loaded my backpack onto the horse, looted the dead man's weapons (look, medieval soldiers actually did that even on Earth, so this is fine), loaded those onto the horse, and double-checked that there was really nothing on the body like a note or even a symbol that would give me a clue as to who this guy was. After that, and once again attempting to convince the horse not to buck me off and kill me, I rummaged through the saddlebags for a look at my haul (turns out existential memes are great for numbing the shock of killing someone and stealing his stuff, or maybe I'm just a sociopath, or this just isn't actually a big deal in the first place). Stowed with the saddle was an actual proper load of provisions, a cleverly-hidden sack of coins, a fancy-looking lockpick, a mortar and pestle, and what must have been at least a hundred vials and bottles and flasks and jars of strange liquids with cryptic labels, a few of which were warm to the touch, and several of which reacted violently upon shattering after I threw them. Last but not least was some small pouch containing a stirrup, which finally brought to my attention to the fact that there was only one fixed to the left side of the saddle.

Oh, ooh, I've read something about this. In Europe in 400AD or something they had saddles with one stirrup specifically for mounting-up, and it was the Huns (or maybe the mongols?) that invented saddles with two stirrups, so that they could stand in their saddles and fire their bows behind them. That definitely doesn't apply here but okay, thanks for sharing, part of my brain that stores memories.

Well, certainly as long as I have no real clue how to ride a horse, I can at least make sure I'm as well-equipped as possible. I fixed the spare stirrup to the right side of the saddle, and turned to the tree the horse was tethered to, so that I could finally untie it and get riding.

I came to my senses with the resounding clonk of a hoof to the head, and found myself slouched into some painful position on the ground, and in daylight. The aching pain of an uncomfortable sleep combined with frustration squeezed a labored groan through my mouth as pulled myself upright with the side of the tree. Taking a brief gander at my surroundings, it was immediately apparent that the horse which had kicked me awake was once again going apeshit, and seemingly gesturing towards something downhill. My own gaze instinctively followed hers to a DnD party something like 200 meters downhill, and headed my way from a dirt road that snaked through the valley immediately behind them. As soon as they noticed I was back up, they returned towards the road they had been wandering on; maybe they intended to help a downed traveler, maybe they were going to loot me, and turn in the bounty which may or may not be on my head. Whatever it was, I had nothing to offer them standing, and so they left me in peace.

Whelp, what a wonderful night.

I looked to the ground with a sigh as I leaned on the tree, and saw that the horse had lawnmowered away all the grass within its reach, and also wasn't wearing horseshoes. Returning my attention to her long face, it finally occurred to me that this thing needed a name. Whatever the dead assassin had called her would be the simplest choice, but even if I knew what that was I could probably do without that association (assuming he even called her by name, anyway). Well, I had to call her something, so... how about... "Honse", from that tumblr post about "mutiliating a JPEG"?

With that recollection came a tidal wave of memories from the comfortable life I had led - the family I'd left behind, the stupid memes, the pathetic existence it took twisting reality upside-down to snap me out of - and I shed my first tears since landing in this world. The confused mess of emotion came gushing down my cheeks as whatever parts of my mind weren't preoccupied with sorrow scrambled to locate the source of this attack. This went on for a good ten minutes, with each beloved or cringe-worthy memory giving way to another as I unconsciously traced back the story of my life.

Pathetic, you are pathetic. If the universe itself hadn't thrown you out you would have never left your room, consuming video games and anime and memes which you don't even truly enjoy while the immense range of possibilities you're privileged enough to have slipped away from you until you either mustered the willpower to end it all, or your body and mind slowly decayed to nothing. If it wasn't for whatever senseless Eldritch fuckery brought you here, you'd invariably amount to nothing more than a waste of oxygen and daddy's money - and even now, after reality itself has bent over backwards for you, you've still managed to fuck everything up.

There you are you incorporeal sack of shit, for a moment I held out hope that maybe you never managed to stow-away in my mind, but I see you cant resist an opportunity to nag at me. I am the master of this consciousness, and I will decide what is done with the body it commands. I will do something monumental for this wonder-full world and if you want to stop me you'll have to start shutting down my organs like a real disease instead of cowering inside my mind like the worthless fucking parasite you are.

Well, at the very least my brilliant self-help strategy of talking shit about that damned voice in my head still works.

I collected myself with a resigned sigh, winced at the wound above my belly which I only now remembered, and glanced up and around me in an instinctive measure to verify that nobody had seen my little breakdown. Fortunately, if that DnD party had seen me they had decided to leave me alone before I starting bawling where I stood, and nobody else had shown up on the road after them. So, the only witness would then be - "Honse". She met my gaze with what was either compassionate concern, or the unseeing view of a creature which had precisely one brain cell bouncing around its skull like a windows screensaver.

Well, I really do need to be going, so let's see if "Honse" can make up for my complete lack of knowledge how to ride her, after all.