Chapter 85. Break up? (3/6)

I raised my left hand then covered my left eye and forehead with the palm of my hand. I took in another deep breath while I tilted my head up and to the right to look over my shoulder in her direction. 

“Rosa… can you at least try a bit to care more about yourself? I get you’ve been brought up that way, to not value your own life, that the values and duties instilled in you are different from normal everyday civilians, but you said you wanted to become a teacher, right? Teachers of normal civilians have to teach their students the value of life, how to care about their life, both present, and future. How can you do so when you don’t care and value your own life?”

She was caught off guard when I told her that out of the blue.

“Care about myself more?”

“You don’t need to care about me, Rosa. I’m not worth it. I’m a terrible person with an atrociously bad personality. I have been, and always will be. That will never change about me. Even before I cheated on you, that was the case. After cheating… I’d say something like death is the only thing suitable for someone like me. If you were to kill me, I’d fully accept it. What I did, crossed a certain line. It’s a fine line I can’t accept I so easily crossed.” 

Even if it was because a moment of weakness I had was exploited, I believe I was level-headed enough at the time after I’d slept it off. I won’t ever make excuses for the things I’ve done.

No matter the circumstances. I’m scum. Low-life scum. I never hated that about me though. I accepted it. But if I ever sunk to a level even lower than that, I would hate myself at that point.

To reach that man’s level… I didn’t want to be more like him. I didn’t want to resemble him, to become his spitting image. The type to do the sort of things he did. To use a woman as a convenient tool to satisfy your own desires, hurt and betray her, then throw her away when you’re done with her.

That was why I never got close to women before, or anyone else. Deep down I felt since I was his son that exact sort of thing would happen. Blood runs deep. Born to such a man, it was only natural.

Did I hate him though? No. Never. I wouldn’t allow him to occupy my thoughts even as someone I hated. My revenge would be to simply forget his existence. If I ever ran into him, I’d simply walk by him like a stranger and never even acknowledge him. The only thing I truly hated was the idea of ending up like him. At this rate, it was exactly that path I was on and it was just a matter of time.

“Ran… if you’re trying to teach me about such a thing… don’t you think you should do the same too? You just told me you’re fine even if I killed you, is that something someone who values and cares about their own life would say? If you expect me to care about myself, show me how to do it properly and don’t do it in such a half-assed manner.”

When she said that and saw through me, my head sunk down low.

I let out a self-deprecating laugh and said, “Haha. I’m not the one who wants to be a teacher. I can’t teach you something I don’t know how to do myself.”

As soon as I uttered those words a strong gust of wind blew against me while something in my brain clicked as a mystery suddenly unraveled in my head. 

The world momentarily came to a still as all the pieces fell into place.

I finally recalled the true reason I was assassinated and who had really killed me. I hadn’t been able to remember or figure it out up until now as my memories around that time were scattered and fragmented when I awoke here.

In the life I previously led, my only objective had turned into a simple one, to live until I turned forty. I’d told myself that was all I wanted. I’d love life doing whatever I wanted to do with that deadline in mind. 

I didn’t want anyone but me to decide when I lived until or died, not even nature. So from a young age, I said I would die when I turned forty. And right on time, I died as intended.

The one who killed me, an assassin, but at the same time, not quite. 

It was me.

I’d taken my own life.

Through an assassin's hands.

I’d put up a bounty online for someone to kill me on a specified date, time, and location. I’d given all the specifics. I didn’t like the idea of simply committing suicide though, so I’d decided to hire an assassin to claim my own life.

Honestly, I hadn’t really expected much to come of it and if it didn’t work, I’d just reluctantly do the deed myself, but it seems it played out the way I wanted. The only miscalculation being, I’d returned to the past with all my knowledge, but my memories were fragmented, scattered, and incomplete.

The day I died was my birthday.

I’d seated myself inside my empty apartment at the center of the living room in a single wooden chair I’d bought specifically for that day. On the ground, was a black tarp I’d laid out to prevent my blood from seeping into the floor and ruining it. It would make cleaning up easier for whoever had to do so. I wouldn’t inconvenience anyone this way. I was trying to be considerate in my own twisted way.

There wasn’t anyone who would mourn my death. I’d made sure of that all my life as I lived in solitude. I didn’t like to inconvenience others or cause a scene. I didn’t want to be remembered by anyone. I’d simply be forgotten like this.

Accepting my life would come to an end that day, I closed my eyes and fell asleep while seated in that lonely chair.

The last thing I remembered was opening my eyes from the pain with the only thing in sight being that knife. Then the final words that had been whispered to me by the unseen beautiful assassin who finished me off.

The sigh she let out before the words left her mouth beside my ear, “Haaaaaah. If you’d made different choices in life and learned of love… maybe you wouldn’t have had to die all alone like this.” With nobody to remember you except me. 

Those were the final unspoken words of my assassin.

If I wasn’t wrong… she’d been aware of me from high school and even recognized me. That was the only reason she would have said such a thing. She’d been the one who accepted the request to assassinate me.

Another flaw in my plan. In my final moments, I’d been remembered by the very assassin I hired to reap my own life at my request. I’d wanted to disappear from the world unremembered by anyone, but in my final moments, someone had remembered me. I’d failed to depart the way I wanted to. And… it had all been this girl's fault.

Had a regret unconsciously been born at that final moment? The reason I’d returned to this time, was it because of that?

“Haaaaaah.” I breathed out a small sigh as I closed my eyes and resigned myself.

The world started to slowly move forward again.

I was… about to die again.

My assailant, the gust of wind just a moment ago.

I’d been near the edge of the roof the entire time after all. 

See? It was a stupid idea to stand there. It was so predictable I wanted to laugh derisively. The most blatant foreshadowing. Story of my life. As a writer myself, I had the urge to rip up a manuscript out of rage from this development.