Eternally Regressing in Another World

Chapter 32: Square 26: Persecution and Playfulness

A sulfurous smell, a damp mattress. On top of that, the feeling of bugs crawling up my arm jolted me awake instantly. I glanced at the watch I’d left by my pillow. The hands pointed to 7:30.

"Crap!! Gonna be late for work..., oh, right."

Guess sleeping in the most realistic place I’d been in so far made me wake up disoriented, thinking about the wrong things. This was another world. No point worrying about a job that didn’t matter here.

"Right, I got fired anyway."

Kept going like this, I’d just keep dredging up unpleasant memories. Better grab some food and reset my mood. I pulled my wrinkled dress shirt on, tied my tie with practiced hands, and headed toward Shiran’s room.

"Morning, you up?"

I knocked, and an answer came right back.

"I’m up, just wait a sec..."

I could hear some rustling around. Was she getting changed? Guess I’d called out at a bad moment.

"...Come in."

Seemed like she’d finished changing. I called out once more before stepping inside.

"Morning, I’ll get breakfast started. Oh right, what did you want to eat again? Never got around to asking yesterday."

"Um, ...meat stir fried with vegetables."

"Got it, hang tight."

Turning my back on Shiran, who gave a small smile, I headed to the kitchen. For now, I still had leftover lettuce from yesterday and some meat. But that alone wouldn’t be quite enough.

"Oh right, since I’ve got mayo..."

I boiled some prepped potatoes and onion, mashed them, and mixed in mayonnaise. A quick and easy potato salad, done. Would’ve liked cucumber and carrot too, but the flavor came out perfect regardless. Two dishes felt a little sparse though, wanted one more.

"Right, might as well use the tomatoes I’ve got."

A few minutes later, the finished dishes lined the table. Stir fried meat and vegetables, potato salad, and for the last dish, beef simmered in tomato cream. Fancy name, but really just beef and onion thrown together, nothing fancy about the effort. But of course, the taste didn’t disappoint at all. The tomato cream simmer in particular turned out with a surprisingly spot on flavor, reminiscent of a family restaurant dish.

"Thanks for the food... that was delicious."

Shiran looked up at the ceiling with a face full of quiet contentment. She wasn’t smiling exactly, but that overflowing sense of happiness on her face was oddly heartwarming.

"Do you usually cook for yourself?"

Shiran shook her head slightly.

"No, I buy canned food from the store nearby and eat that."

"Canned food, huh. I used to live off instant noodles a lot myself, so I’m not really in a position to judge."

At my mutter, Shiran looked at me with a puzzled expression. Right, I guess instant noodles don’t exist in this world.

"So, um, living off stuff like that must get expensive, right? Are you doing okay not cooking for yourself?"

"Yeah, some important people give me money until I turn twelve. Apparently it’s a law or something."

So the state was supporting her. Not like there’d be much work available for a kid this young anyway.

"So are you going to school?"

"...I can’t go."

"Not enough money or something?"

"...Um, ...well..."

Her hesitant answer, eyes starting to drift away. I had a hunch and asked.

"Because of bullying?"

"........Yeah."

Guess the same problems exist no matter what world you’re in. Never expected to run into a bullying related truancy issue after getting isekai’d.

"Hey, tomato mister."

"Hm?"

"...Never mind, it’s nothing!"

"Ah, hey!"

Shiran bolted out of the room. I noticed the tears welling up in her eyes as she left.

"Should I go after her? ...No, maybe it’s better to let her be alone for a bit right now."

Shiran had probably been trying to ask for help just now. Which meant, rather than talking to her directly, there was someone else I should talk to instead.

"...Guess I’ll go check out that girl’s school."

Asking the innkeeper at the run down inn, I found the location easily enough. Ten minutes on foot from the inn. The building looked a little unusual to be called a school. Must have been right around the start of the school day, kids with leather satchels slung over their shoulders were filing into the schoolhouse.

"Leather bags instead of backpacks, huh."

Small kids walked in cheerfully, cloth bags with embroidery slung over their shoulders. While watching the scene with mild curiosity, a familiar face caught my eye.

"Oh? Those are the bratty kids from yesterday."

Among the kids heading to school, a group of unpleasant looking boys walked along, chattering noisily.

"Alright, alright, excuse me a sec. I’ve got something to talk to you kids about."

"WAAAAAAAH!!! It’s the stabbed mister from yesterday!!!"

Right, I did put on that little act. Perfect, might as well use it.

"Hey, wait up! Why were you bullying that girl yesterday? I got saved because she patched up my wounds, you know?"

Well, a lie, but still.

"I-it’s not bullying! We’re fighting off a ghost!"

"...A... ghost?"

"Yeah. We’re chasing that ghost off so it can’t come to school."

Shiran, a ghost? ...I’m not following at all here.

"Hey, mind telling me a bit more about that..."

Right then, an unfamiliar high pitched melody rang out from the schoolhouse.

"Uh oh! We’re gonna be late!"

"Hurry, hurry!"

Guess that was the school bell. No chance of getting any more out of them until school let out.

"Can’t exactly wait around here all day. Alright, ...now what."

I leaned against the school gate and lit a cigarette. A small figure approached me as I did.

"Mister, do you know Shiran?"

The one who spoke up was a boy about the same age as the troublemakers from before. While the other kids rushed frantically past, this one showed no urgency at all. He looked up at me with a slightly anxious expression. Was he scared of me, maybe? I stubbed out my lit cigarette into a portable ashtray and crouched down to meet his eye level.

"I just met Shiran yesterday, actually. If you know anything about her, mind telling me?"

"...Okay, come with me."

"You sure about skipping school?"

"It’s fine, I’m skipping today."

The boy turned his back on the noisy, bustling school and started walking the opposite direction. Matching his small strides, I followed after him.

"Here it is."

The boy pointed to what looked like an entirely unremarkable horse stable. A modest wooden shed tucked into the corner of a small farm.

"This way, this way, mister, hurry!"

The boy waved both hands, urging me on. He kept going into the grass beside the stable.

"You get in from here."

"...That’s asking a lot."

Hidden behind the tall grass, invisible at a glance, was a hole cut into part of the stable wall.

"Push through it, you’ll probably fit too, mister."

The boy crouched down and slipped through the hole smoothly. Naturally, I barely managed it, basically crawling on my stomach the whole way.

"Phew, phew, if my suit rips over this, that’s no joke. This is my one good outfit."

Past the hole was a storage area for cleaning supplies. Seemed like the hole we’d come through had been conveniently hidden behind a wooden box.

"This way, mister. Oh, make sure to put the box back."

"O... okay."

This is straight up trespassing, isn’t it. ...What am I even doing.

"Hurry up!"

"O-okay!"

Following the boy, we came out into a dim, spacious area lined with horse stalls. The animal smell of the horses hit my nose immediately.

"Climb up here."

Saying that, the boy skillfully climbed a rope at the edge of the stable. The rope hung down from the ceiling, about three meters up. No way, this is actually rough...

"Damn it, I’ll do it! Don’t underestimate adults!"

The boy climbed all the way up and disappeared into the attic space.

"Just gotta be careful..., careful..."

I clenched my bag in my teeth and started climbing bit by bit. I remembered climbing a pole as a kid, but climbing a rope was a first for me in this life.

"You’ve got this, mister."

"Yeah! (something unintelligible through clenched teeth)"

"Uh, ...I have no idea what you just said."

After nearly falling once, I somehow managed to make it up.

"Phew, made it... what is this place?"

There was a room laid out with a nice carpet. A bookshelf, a barrel filled with water. A soft looking sofa, even a child sized bed. Calling it a kid’s secret hideout felt like an understatement, given how oddly luxurious and well equipped the whole space was. Standing in the center, the boy spread both arms wide and declared, with obvious pride.

"Fufufu, welcome, at last! To the hideout of yours truly, Flaut Beyonetta!"