By the Grace of the Gods: Volume 1

by Roy

...Alas, that changed as I grew older. With my enrollment into elementary school, I started interacting with more people and widening my world. That led to many changes, such as making friends and studying together.

  But where people gather, arguments occur. This happened one day in the early years:

  I wasn’t the most social of people back then, and pretty much never went to play with my friends after school or anything because I had training. I stood out among the class, so I wasn’t very well-liked. I don’t remember what started it, but I had been pinned against the wall by five boys. They pressured me for a while, but I showed no fear and argued back several times. But they didn’t listen to me. All that came back were even harsher words from the five of them. Since they outnumbered me, they refused to listen and grew angrier the more I argued back.

  Eventually, one of them raised their fist. However, having received my father’s training, I evaded the punch without thinking. This was the moment that changed everything. I was backed against the wall, and the fist was aiming for my face from straight-on. In other words, the wall was waiting after I evaded. Momentum drove the boy’s fist to collide into the wall, making him scream. The other boys were surprised at his pain. A worried boy took his friend’s hand, making him scream louder, resulting in tears as he brushed them away. As children, they couldn’t do anything and eventually went to the nurse’s office, where it was discovered to be a fracture.

  Our homeroom teacher was immediately informed, and everyone except the injured boy was summoned.

  “How did this happen?”

  Naturally, we were questioned for the reason, and I responded with what should have been the truth. Friction with my surroundings aside, I wasn’t at fault for the injury. But the teacher ultimately determined that I acted violently, pushing the other boy over and stomping on his hand. Because the other four boys testified that that was what had happened. My desperate denials couldn’t win against the majority. The fact I had been pinned against the wall was taken as a light joke between kids, and my parents were summoned for the severity of the injury caused.

  Then, after school. The one who appeared was my father, although Mom had been the first one to respond to their call. The teacher was also surprised to see my father, who greeted her while continuously bowing his head. Immediately after that, I was punched.

  Once, twice, thrice. The hard fist landed on my face. When I covered my face with my arms, my stomach was hit instead. The unreasonable attacks continued until my teacher returned to her senses and intervened, and my father kept bowing his head as soon as he stopped.

  “I heard that my son has acted violently to another child. I am very sorry for his actions.”

  He suddenly switched from violence to a sincere apology. I believe the teacher was confused by my father’s sudden change of attitude. A silence flowed between us, which is when I thought, That was wrong, I wasn’t the one who acted violently. But the moment I tried to say that, my father’s fist came flying once again. Along with an order to stop making excuses and reflect on my actions. Everything after that proceeded quickly.

  “Fortunately, the bone was only fractured slightly and will be able to heal without any long-lasting effects... As long as you teach him that violence isn’t the answer, this should be settled.”

  After the exchange that felt like time had rewound, my father and I were dismissed by the teacher. The teacher who said violence isn’t the answer had accepted the violence that just happened as education. Perhaps it was because my father was an elite craftsman, but the teacher seemed to think that a stern hand was the respectful way to go about things.

  But on the way home, my youthful heart couldn’t accept the result so easily. And after distancing myself a little while walking, I let out a complaint. That I wasn’t the one who injured him. My father came to a stop where he walked before me. I braced myself to be punched again, but...

  “I don’t care about that. I just didn’t want to waste any more time over useless matters.”

  What came flying instead wasn’t a fist, but apathetic words. Don’t care? Useless matters? Rather than relief at not being hit, I felt more confused. I could understand the words, which made me more confused than otherwise. As I stood frozen, my father took a look at me.

  “Come back before your practice time. I want to work on a sword, so I’m going back first.”

  Leaving only those words, I watched my father’s back as he walked away. And on that day, I doubted his love for the first time. I was at the age for my rebellious period, but as I learned more martial arts from my father, he started spending most of his time on swordsmithing instead. It was as though his apathetic attitude had risen to the surface, having fulfilled his duty. At the same time, I began to see the sides of my father he could no longer fool me with, which made me distance myself from him.

  It’s hard to say whether my father noticed that. Perhaps he did, but didn’t care...

  The one who connected the growing gap between me and my father was Mom. Whenever something happened, my father would stand in the firing line first, as Mom wasn’t the type of person to act for herself publicly. Instead, she supported us from the shadows. That was the kind of person she was. There weren’t any particularly memorable moments, but she was always beside me when I was in pain or trouble.

  By the time I got into middle school, my father reduced the amount of direct instruction I received and immersed himself into swordsmithing. Swordsmithing wasn’t meant to be a task for a single person. Other than the swordsmith that forged the blade, there was the sheath craftsman and blade polisher that usually worked in concert — but my father did that himself. He used to attend craftsman classes to study, but began doing it for real now. Practicing the forms and training alone became my daily life, and the only time I was certain to see my father’s face was at breakfast.

  It was Mom who strongly insisted on breakfast. She tried to connect the two of us when we barely spoke to each other. Those days continued until I approached my middle school graduation.

  Father gradually pushed Mom away, until he stopped coming to breakfast... And then finished his newest blade. In front of the blade he had painstakingly polished, my father had collapsed with a triumphantly pleased expression.

  The cause of his death was a heart attack. He didn’t have any chronic illnesses — like with all humans, it was just his time to bow out.

  After that, our lives changed. While my father had a high income, he was careless with money and spent it frivolously on his studies. As a result, he barely had any savings, and it was difficult for a middle schooler like me to find work. Naturally, it was decided that Mom would start working and sell the house. Housework became the norm, along with my training. As well as part-time work from the moment I entered high school to graduation. Mom would also work until late, coming home every day with a tired face. We would only see each other in the short time before bed. At night, we’d talk about the things that happened during the day... but Mom never complained about our life at all.

  Looking back on it now, it wasn’t an easy life, but we were fairly happy.

  Then I entered university. We were struggling financially at the time, but Mom was adamantly against me working after high school. At the end of our discussions, I folded to her will. Fortunately, my options for part-time work had widened since high school, and my income increased if I took on jobs with some danger, like high-altitude work. Thus, I somehow managed to graduate and find employment... which was all good and all, until I had to leave that company less than a year later.

  I don’t know whether I could say it was beyond my control, but I definitely would have been causing inconvenience by remaining at the company. So I bowed my head to my superior and resigned. But resigning in less than a year was highly frowned upon in society. Every company pointed that out and asked for the resignation reason, ultimately resulting in rejections.

  As I was lost, searching for employment, the one who had mentally and financially supp
orted me — friendless from doing nothing but work and training — was Mom. Eventually, the company I finally got into was what could be described in modern terms as an exploitative employer. While my work hours became unstable, my life had settled for the moment. Now Mom could relax a little.

  Just as I began to think that way, Mom passed away. It had been death from overwork. The funeral was held quietly, with just myself and Mom’s coworkers. After it was all over, I was alone. I don’t think I felt any sadness. If anything, the sense of loss was greater.

  The next day, I had work. Work piled up without mercy. I submerged myself in that work. Before I knew it, that became the norm. Things lost would never return. New connections weren’t to be gained, either. They were just things I could no longer obtain.

  ...Yet the things I had given up on were right in front of me now.

  “Ryoma?! What’s the matter?!”

  Eliaria’s voice reached me. It seemed like I had been crying. The tears had leaked out without my knowledge, dripping from my chin.

  “...Sorry, I’m fine. I was just remembering my family. Everyone here gave off a similar feeling... though your faces aren’t the same.”

  My mother wasn’t particularly ugly, but she wasn’t pretty, either. Vastly different from this collection of good looking men, women, and girls.

  “Oh my.”

  “You should come inside first. It’s about time you got some rest.”

  While I was thinking such ridiculous things, Elise hugged me and Eliaria tugged my arm.

  “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  Reinhart directed me into a chair with his hand on my shoulder.

  “You haven’t eaten dinner yet, right?”

  “We’ll prepare it right away. Do you have any requests?”

  Reinbach patted my head as Sebas and the two maids watched me with warm eyes.

  “Here’s some herb tea. It’ll help you relax.”

  “Shall I make your meal something light?”

  “Let’s see... if it isn’t too much trouble, a sandwich would be nice.”

  “Understood.”

  They seemed to understand that I was a little embarrassed by my tears, as no one mentioned it. Instead, everyone tried to look after me in the smallest of ways. Refilling my teacup every time it emptied, allowing the night wind into the room as soon as I found it a little hot...

  Elise and Eliaria were particularly enthusiastic about catering to my needs. From the corner of my eye, I could see Lilian on standby while focused on the actions of the two, having had her role taken from her. Should she interfere to fulfill her duty, or should she respect their wishes? She must have felt rather conflicted over that. She seemed a little restless.

  Like this, my tired body was tended to as I answered some reserved questions, when eventually a familiar sandwich arrived in my hands.

  “Thank you.”

  The flavor of fresh vegetables and bacon spread through my mouth. The exact same flavor as what was delivered while I was working. I had grown so familiar to this taste, it made me feel at peace.

  “That was delicious.”

  In no time at all, I had cleared the plate.

  “Master Ryoma, the bath is ready for you. Feel free to have a soak.”

  I went to take a bath as suggested, and the next time I stepped out they all saw me to my room.

  “Once again, thank you for your hard work today.”

  “While we’d love to chat with you more, you should rest for today.”

  “You may have pulled those all-nighters, but you still need your sleep.”

  “If there’s anything you want to talk about, bring it up tomorrow. We’ll be close by.”

  My head didn’t seem to be working properly, perhaps because it was my first all-nighter in years... but it wasn’t a bad feeling.

  I burrowed under the blankets and raised my hand to wave. Everyone quietly left the room. I was left alone. But the warmth from the people who welcomed me home today remained right beside me.

  As my consciousness faded away, a belated sense of accomplishment over having finished the job rose. Filled with a satisfaction that was difficult to put into words, I entrusted my body to the comfort of sleep.

  Extra Story: The Day Before Reincarnation

  “How many years have you been doing this?!”

  A cup was smacked down with a yelling voice, spilling cold coffee over a certain man.

  “I’m very sorry.”

  “Tch... Do it again. By the end of today. Clean this up and get back to work.”

  “Excuse me.”

  Bowing once to the superior who had passed his eyes over the documents, the man picked up the coffee cup.

  “Oh, hey, man. If you’re gonna get that cleaned up, get me a coffee too. I can’t step away from my work right now.”

  “Pfft.”

  “...Kuku.”

  “Any sugar or milk?”

  “No.”

  The man passed by a subordinate who gave him a task, and silently continued walking.

  Should I change into my spare clothes? No, it doesn’t matter. I don’t have any more work to do outside today.

  “Kyah?!”

  When he walked into the office kitchen, a woman screamed.

  “Oh, what? Ugh.”

  “Excuse me. Sorry if I startled you.”

  “It’s nothing, really...”

  “B-Boss, who’s that?”

  “Takebayashi from department three.”

  After greeting the two who were already there, the man called Takebayashi went about making a new coffee. As he did that, the conversation between the other two continued behind him.

  “That scared the wits out of me. Why does he have to be that big? He looks like two people stuffed into one coat.”

  “Like I said, that’s Takebayashi from department three. Apparently he does some kind of martial arts, and he always uses his body in the talent show at the end of year party, which you’ll see too.”

  “Is that so... Oh, is that coffee? He’s soaked...”

  “Just the usual.”

  “Usual? He must be clumsy.”

  “...Take the hint already. Just so you know, you shouldn’t get involved with him.”

  “Is he a scary person, then?”

  “He himself isn’t. If anything, I’d say he’s a good person. But I said he was from department three, right? Department three is a gathering of useless employees, a dumpster to remove the hindrances from other departments. Anyway, you know how we use subcontractors? Our elite clients keep forcing their kids onto us, probably because they’d be an eyesore at their parents’ companies. Using their parents’ connections... It’s like the higher ups just want to look good. Department three is made of those types of people. Even the title of the team lead means nothing, it’s basically a demotion to the bottom rank. Anyway, no matter what he’s like, don’t stick your head into department three’s mess. Got it?”

  “Right...”

  The woman who received the sudden lecture by her superior watched Takebayashi’s back with hesitation in her eyes. Her superior gave a further warning, having just finished her work.

  “...You have been warned. Don’t come crying to me if something horrible happens to you.”

  “I-I understand!”

  When the superior left with those cold words, the other woman followed her in a panic. With the two of them gone from the kitchen, the man sadly waited for the water to boil.

  They could have spoken a little more quietly...

  He returned to his department with the coffee in hand.

  “Ah, team lead. We’re going out to lunch now.”

  “Thanks for the treat, chief!”

  “It’s a great place, look forward to it!”

  “Sorry, man, but I won’t need that coffee after all.”

  The subordinate who’d requested the coffee showed no remorse as he followed the chief out of the office. The man watched the employees walk out one by one, until the
re was only one person left.

  A young man focused on his computer, continuing to input data.

  “...Tabuchi, do you drink coffee? It’s black.”

  “Ah... yes, please.”

  Tabuchi drank the leftover coffee in one shot, then sighed.

  “...Are they gone?”

  “...It’s all right now. Fortunately, they weren’t in that bad of a mood today... Oh yeah, I saw what looked like a new employee in the kitchen earlier. A woman.”

  “It’s rare to hear the team lead talk about girls. Was she cute?”

  “Well, she screamed as soon as she saw me.”

  “Oh, you mean in that way.”

  “It was just like when you first met me.”

  “I swear, you’re just way too jacked. Anyone would get scared seeing you for the first time. The white work shirt doesn’t help hide your muscles either.”

  “It took quite a while until we grew close enough for you to stop speaking so politely. Can’t just make my muscles disappear on command, after all.”

  “That would be another problem if you could.”

  A faint smile appeared across their faces.

  “So, you’re a descendent from a military family, right? Your name’s Ryoma, after all.”

  “They’re just ancient martial arts techniques passed down through the generations. My family isn’t particularly important. The names are also randomly picked from strong historical figures. My father was Musashi, and my grandfather was Renyasai.”

  “If you filled out your user profile online with those details, you’d be laughed off the internet.”

  “In modern times, maybe... but I doubt you’d say the same if you stood before a famous ancient martial artist.”

  “Yeah yeah, you don’t have to listen to me. But wait, with a body like that, what are you doing settling for being a software engineer? You should have just been a fighter.”

  “Even if I became a fighter, only a small handful of people earn enough to make a living. I wanted stability.”

  “What about a career change?”

  “To a fighter?”

  “Or something else. Do you really want to work here forever? Also, marriage and stuff.”