After a long language-learning session with the little girl he had met yesterday, Kagayama sat quietly in his bedroom.
A table stood by the wall, its drawers willingly holding all of its owner's belongings.
One item seemed special—wrapped in dirty white cloth, it carried the scent of earth, with bits of gravel still clinging to it.
A man sat on the edge of the bed, watching the item carefully while his leg shook uncontrollably as he thought about something. His blank, gloomy eyes never left the items even for a second. And from the inside, his heartbeat pounded very fast, and sometimes broke the rhythm, making him struggle to breathe.
He carefully stroked his chest, seeking comfort inside the raging storms.
Kagayama seemed more stable, even though the wrath and anxiety still surrounded him like a sandstorm. A scene in which he gets beaten up on this day plays repeatedly. Their voices become bad background music, as bad as their full-of-scars bodies.
The way they slap the woman on the streets and humiliate her makes the rage inside him boil once again, especially when he cannot help her or even himself at that time.
The sound of gritted teeth, followed by ragged breath, came from Kagayama. He clenched his fist tightly as if about to punch someone in the face and rip their cursed mouth open.
But a sense of guilt always follows him whenever a desire to take revenge on them arises. His image of the brutal revenge is getting weaker as his feelings become more stable.
As the hard condition seems about to disappear, a scene of the thug's cruelty always appears, like poor people seeking help from officials during the campaign. Kagayama loses count in this cycle, he doesn't even remember when this storm started, and how long it will last.
He takes a tired sigh, opening the cloth from the crossbow, and sees it carefully.
One mini crossbow, ten arrows like a straw needle with a poisoned tip, and finally, a glass bottle full of poison inside it.
The crossbow is adorned with leaves-metal carving on the right side, and the other side is carved like a symbol with some unreadable letters surrounding it.
His finger hovered over the strings before continuing to the trigger.
Kagayama pulls the draw mechanism into place, adjusting it for a second, and pulls the trigger.
The strings shot forward, clean and sharp.
"Just one shot…" He murmured while placing the crossbow on the cloth, wrapped it up again, along with the poisoned arrow and the bottles. Then he placed it inside the drawer, closed it properly—without anyone knowing.
His body remains hurt, and his mind is exhausted. But tomorrow, he must wake up early like today, working as a servant in this mansion until lunchtime, before he must get another exhausting job outside.
As the nocturnal animal grew quiet, it was time when the journey on this day came to an end.
Kagayama lay on the bed, trying to close his eyes and sleep. But rage clung to him like shadows—keeping him wide awake far into the night, until at last... silence found him.
By morning, Kagayama would wake up early as before, work in the kitchen, eat with the other servants, and do the rest job Henry had assigned for him.
This day, his task was washing. And now, he and Merianth hung the clothes on the rope beside the mansion.
Merianth stole a glance at him as usual, but this day she seemed a little bit worried because Kagayama looked tired physically and mentally, especially when she spotted the bruise residue on his face.
Her soft hands touch Kagayama's wounds gently, almost like teasing, but it was for a different purpose this time. Her face was full of affection and concern as she stared into his eyes with a gentle, heartwarming smile.
On the other hand, Kagayama seems slow to respond, but that doesn't mean he is immune at all, because after a few seconds, a faint blush appears on his cheek, and his gaze switches to avoid hers.
Merianth doesn't stop, she traces her finger on the bruises while saying.
"I'm just curious about this wound since the morning when we started to work together… Does that hurt? Kagayama?"
"Not as much as yesterday…when someone punched my face." He muttered, still avoiding her gaze.
"You must stay alert from the thug, especially on city roads, okay?" Her tone is firm—every word laced with warning.
"Okay…" He nodded slowly, before staring at her in confusion as Kagayama realized something. "I didn't remember telling you this one before…" His voice demanded her answer, low and full of doubt.
"Yeah, you wouldn't tell me, I'm just guessing because there are so many thugs around this place lately, and the only one who had the biggest chance to punch you is them, is that right?" Her hands were on her hips, brimming with confidence.
"Y…yeah, you're right." He turned to the baskets full of wet rags and continued his job like before.
However, Merianth remains unsatisfied with lecturing him, wanting to make sure if Kagayama would take it seriously.
"I just…I don't want to see you come back like this again."
And now Kagayama voluntarily turned on her, not because of her words, not to listen to her warning, but to ask something he had held since yesterday.
"Umm…Merianth…"
Her eyes widened, and her chest pounded faster at the sight of her beloved one, watching her closely.
"Y..yeah?"
"What would you do if someone took something important in your life?"
She became calmer and gave a spontaneous answer, which she probably does not regret.
"Of course, I will make them pay for that, and teach them a lesson…" Then she paused for a second while switching her gaze to avoid Kagayama. " I…I mean, I will charge them twice…"
"I see, that was a good point."
As his question had been answered, Kagayama continued his job again, but Merianth suddenly asked him for something.
"Umm…If you don't mind, could you help me after lunch break until I'm done?"
"I am sorry, but I must go after lunch break for more money."
"But I need you to help me clean…"
She looked hesitant as she stared at the floor, before continuing in a low voice.
"....my room."
Kagayama turned slightly, watching her troubled face carefully.
"If you want it, I could help you after I come back from my job."
She nodded fastly, trying to cover her nervousness.
"Y…yeah, it would be nice."
After that quick conversation, they continued their duty until lunchtime.
When the work ended, Kagayama went to the city like before to earn more money. But this time, he brought the crossbow with him—hidden under his clothes, and sometimes puts it somewhere else while he needs to focus on his job.
Watered plants, took gallons of water from the nearby river, fed the animal, crushed rock with a hammer, moved boxes, and sometimes his tired body wanted a peaceful rest besides a building. It seems he has a loyal and new customer right now, making him earn more than 53 Fevein in total.
Afternoon, when the elevation of the sun is thirty-five degrees from the horizon. Kagayama moves iron bars from a cart to the blacksmith's storage. It was a job full of exhaustion and sweat, but the salary is 15 Fevein—enough to keep him interested.
As he took the iron bars from outside, Kagayama's eyes were always roaming around, watching the street nearby, and keeping his eyes on the guards. He felt something was off this day, the guard number in the street increased, and suddenly appeared in very different spots all over the nearby place.
"Maybe I shouldn't have brought the crossbow today…" He thinking while carrying the iron bars to the storage room. "If I knew they would crawl like flowers in the spring."
He couldn't help but keep his eyes on them while avoiding any contact with guards as he walked to another place. Fortunately, he succeeded in hiding his crossbow inside the blacksmith's storage, making him feel safe, and also increasing his speed in moving the iron bars to the storage—because he had to keep an eye on it.
As the final bars were placed, Kagayama would sit on the boxes, watching the storage carefully, and noticing something unusual.
The place he was in was a blacksmith's workshop—but not a single sword or weapon could be seen. Instead, it was just a room filled with metal bars and tools. He glanced at the hammer beside him and noticed the worn curves on its surface, a sign that it had been used many times before. Then he looked at the water container—it was still full of dirty water, which meant it had been used recently. The amount of iron bars was overwhelming; the pile towered high with its massive length and width.
As his thoughts drifted, the blacksmith approached from outside, holding a pouch of money in his hand. His frowning face softened with relief when he saw that all the iron bars had been moved to their proper place. As the distance between them closed, the blacksmith said,
"Here's your money, young man."
"Ahh, thanks."
He handed it, and the pouch landed like an anchor, pulling his hands earthward at sudden weight. At the moment Kagayama's hand regains balance, he opens the pouch carefully, and throws the money into his palm, counting it to make sure there is no mistake.
A gasp slipped from his mouth as his eyes widened in confusion. The coins inside it are worth 18 Fevein, more than the deal they made before. As he counted it twice and found the same amount of money, Kagayama looked at the blacksmith owner and said.
"You gave me more than we agreed, sir."
He simply nods, closing his eyes while giving a slight smile on his face.
"Just consider it was my thanks for your help…"
"But I just did my job," Kagayma said while seeing the coins in his hand. "I don't think I deserve more than we agreed…"
"Hmm," the blacksmith hummed, rubbing his chin. "If that's so…"
He suddenly reached out and snatched three coins back with surprising speed.
"I'll take back the excess money."
"Ehh—" Kagayama blinked, caught off guard as he stared at his now lighter hands. A rush of regrets filled his mind after the weight and the rewards disappeared.
The blacksmith, knowing his expression very well, his gaze sharp but not unkind. He took two coins from his hands and placed them back into Kagayama's palm while saying.
" Don't waste a single chance on your future like this…" He said it firmly, his tone shifting to something deeper. "Sometimes... the thing you refuse to take is the thing you regret losing the most."
Kagayama looked up, unsure of what to say. The blacksmith simply turned around, returning to his workbench with the last coin thrown into the air—glinting briefly in the sunlight from the hole on the rooftop—before he caught it casually.
"And even if fate would bring another chance…" He said without turning.
"The worth will never be the same."
The word hung in the air, united with the oxygen he used to breathe. He couldn't believe he had received an important lesson from him, and Kagayama couldn't wonder what would have happened if he hadn't taken this job. Maybe all of the bonuses, or even a single word from him, would not ever reach him.
As he walked over, Kagayama switched his gaze to the crossbow he had hidden all of this time. He felt uncertain about his choice; some part of his body refused to give it a single try, but the other part remained full of anger and desire to seek revenge. His eyes trembled slightly as his mind conflicted, and scared that there was no second chance for it, just like the blacksmith said before.
But he knows this revenge will lead to consequences in the future, and that might be destroying him even more. The sweat falls from his head as Kagayama searches for an answer, and finally, he concludes.
"Maybe, opportunity is not only about making decisions, but also about the chance to stop… Stop before it all goes too far."
With that, his breath got back to normal intensity, and the fire within his body slowly disappeared, but on the other hand, he couldn't let them take something precious from him again. He must defend himself from the danger, and not just give it away.
A sigh slipped out of his mouth, the heart inside him was still pounding fastly, but his hands relaxed.
Kagayama tucked the coins inside the pouch, walked over to the crossbow, picked it up, and hid it carefully inside the curve of his clothes. Then, he looked outside and thought to himself slowly.
"Maybe…I would use this just to defend myself from now on."
He moved forward—to the same destination as before.
Along the same street as before.