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kurishiri · 2 months ago

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17 . . . alfons main story

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: mentions of child labor or abuse, implied animal torture and death, symptoms of dissociation and depression (?)

—— Alfons’ POV ——

After Kate had left the pub,

I stayed behind, drinking whatever and whenever I felt, playing around in the night streets, and by the time I returned, Roger gave an earful, much to my displeasure.

I spent time around the vicinity as I pleased before returning to my room and catching up on some sleep that playing around at night had robbed me of,

and before I knew it, morning had come around.

Alfons: ‘You went and meddled even more, because that’s what you wanted’...

Lying down on the bed, I ruminated over the words from last night, leaving a bad taste.

After all, they were words that rang too true.

Alfons: ...Indeed, I had so much fun playing around with her that at some point I found myself closer to her than I ever thought.

A: She never felt discouraged in the slightest, even when she followed me around to places that should instill fear in her, and on top of that she would even fight a battle within a fire...

A: Now that I think back, perhaps she really had grown out of needing a ‘convenient illusion’ like myself.

She was someone who could live in reality in earnest. She could give her love to someone, and she could find her happiness.

——She could realize what I could only ever dream of.

—— Flashback ——

Alfons: hah... hah...

I left the boy named Roger behind, running for the orphanage that had kicked me out.

‘To die without leaving his mark on anyone’s memories.’

In other words, the fact I had been born, and the fact I will die... nothing will be left behind. Such was the my life.

The moment I had heard those words, I thought of the corpses of those nameless children, thrown out like they were garbage——

And I was struck with a fear that shook me to my core.

(But, that cat will surely remember me.)

(He wouldn’t ever forget me.)

That was all I wanted to check on. I just wanted to feel that warmth on my fingers once more, driving me to run as fast as my feet could take me.

When I knocked on the door of the orphanage, which was in poor condition, the head nurse answered.

And from behind her——a cat approached.

Cat: What’s with the noise?

Alfons: Oh, thank goodness... hey, don’t you remem——

Cat: ...Wh—it’s you!

Before I could finish my question, though, the cat threw a punch at me.

Alfons: gh!? B-but why...

Cats couldn’t hit people.

Wait, no, in the first place, cats——could not wear clothes. Nor could they speak words.

(So why is this cat wearing clothes and speaking?)

A throbbing migraine hit me then and there, causing me to close my eyes.

And when I opened them again, there before me stood——

the director of the orphanage, with a foul look.

(Ahh... that’s right.)

(I remember now...)

(My cat had long been——)

—— Flashback ——

It had happened on a certain day when I had made a small mistake.

And the director, knowing I wouldn’t react the way he wanted even when harassing me, instead aimed for the cat I had held so dear.

Seeing the cat become more and more of a lump of flesh right before my eyes, I felt my head start to throb in pain.

(This isn’t reality. That isn’t my cat...)

I said to myself, ‘The one who’s being hurt is not myself,’ as I always did.

All to escape to a convenient dream.

Such a habit, at that time, cast upon me a convenient illusion.

(My cat would never be killed by the likes of that director!)

(It’s the cat...)

(Yes, that’s right... it’s the cat who killed the director.)

The director, seeing me suddenly becoming devoid of all emotions despite having broken down crying just before, approached with a nervous air about him.

——In my eyes, though, it was a cat that approached me.

Alfons: I knew you could do it, my kitty cat.

And then I gently pet the back of its neck, as I had always done.

Then, after having peeked into the room that had gone quiet, the head nurse let out a cry.

Meanwhile, the cat let out a purr as I pet it.

Perhaps, the scene that was reflected in the head nurse’s eyes was that of the director down on all fours, purring as I pet him.

Truly, what a pitiful scene it was.

But, even so, to me, the director was killed by the cat, while the cat still lived on.

—— End flashback ——

——That is, until the moment I woke up from that convenient dream.

Director: Did you come here to get beaten again!? You... you bloody monster——!!

(That’s right...)

(The cat had actually died.)

(And I... I couldn’t bear such a thing.)

(Just to run away from the suffering, to somewhere less painful...)

(I had made myself think that the cat had never died in the first place.)

Even though I wished that it would remember me, even when I died, because I loved it,

I also chose to forget about its death for my own sake, however heartless that may have been.

Besides that, I had also heard at some church sermon that ‘love was not meant to be given while seeking something in return.’

In the end, in order to forget all the pain and suffering, I may have only pretended to love.

After all, I had used that cat’s life as I found convenient before throwing it away...

...so how was I any different from the people at the orphanage, who would use others for their own gain before throwing them out?

I had no memory thereafter of where I walked,

just that when I had come to, I found that I had left the orphanage, and I was wandering around the night streets of London.

(If only I hadn’t returned to check on the cat... I could still believe ‘it’s still living, and it still remembers me.’)

(And then I could still stay as the me ‘who could love the cat.’)

(I would have rather just stayed mad...)

(If I didn’t find out what actually happened... if only...)

If you find reality to be unpleasant, you need only seek out an escape.

But if I couldn’t even escape from it anymore——

What other choice did I have but to fall into madness?

—— End flashback ——

Now that I thought back on it, perhaps it was at that moment I had given up on any idea of living in earnest and any prospects of wishing for that so-called happiness.

And as I wandered the streets of the city at night on a whim, I found myself showing the people I met the momentary dream they wished to see.

After all, in order to live in this world that knew no kindness, a place one could escape to was needed.

To those who gathered around me, I figured this hand that could cast a convenient illusion on them was that very place.

(Just what am I doing all of this for?)

(Maybe I thought at one point... I could feel like some savior, who used his Cursed ability to show a sweet dream to those with a weaker will?)

Whenever I would plaster a smile on my face, spouting things like ‘let’s forget about reality and indulge ourselves’ while touching the backs of their necks, I would hear my own cold voice.

I was positively fed up with the me who would cling onto a fake love, who saw no hope in change for the better.

(But, well... I couldn’t care less anymore.)

If I was going to just up and disappear from this world, forgotten by all in the end...

Just like a single piece of candy, wouldn’t it be alright to wrap myself in a sweet dream for as long as I was living?

And then, if I could, I wanted to disappear from this world without leaving even the smallest trace of myself in anyone’s heart.

After all, the more clear any trace I left behind became, the more that would leave behind an open hole in the heart that could never be filled.

Alfons: ...I think I’ve had just about enough of this blasted sob story.

—— Kate’s POV ——

(“To die without leaving his mark on anyone’s memories”——such was Alfons’ tragic fate.)

I had always felt a sense of fear as I listened to Roger’s story of the past.

It was as though a black darkness that would swallow everything in its path whole was creeping up toward me.

(When Alfons dies... at that moment...)

(The members of Crown, the friends Alfons would play with, the people in the slums, me, anyone and everyone...)

(...will all end up forgetting about him.)

His name, what he looked like, the scent he gave off... and the fact he even existed in this world altogether.

Roger: ...Among the testimonies of people who’ve experienced this unnatural memory loss,

R: there was an account of having always felt like in their heart that they couldn’t remember something very dear.

R: And when they had a sudden urge to go into the ‘empty room’ in the house, they said they shed tears the moment they entered the room.

Kate: ...!

Roger: If I had to guess, that person had been close with one of the bearers of the ‘Curse of the Mirror.’

(When I had first met Alfons, I was more than fine with forgetting all about him...)

But now, at this point, just imagining how each of the memories borne between the two of us could fall from my fingertips and scatter on the ground,

I felt a pain I could hardly bear.

Just then, I was reminded of——

[1] The blue mallow tea

[2] The pie-throwing festival (+4 / +4)

[3] The fact we had drank together

The pie-throwing festival.

(I had thought he was going to take me somewhere shady,)

(but it would have never crossed my mind that we would end up participating in this odd festival that was held in the park.)

(When I had talked with Alfons, when we laughed together, and even when we touched each other in that way...)

If he were to die, I would no longer be able to remember any of it.

(Is that why...?)

(So that’s why Alfons——would never step deep into anyone’s life. Nor would he let anyone into his.)

He never sought anything more than a fleeting relationship.

And he would never connect with any person or place.

It was all because if he had made himself at home by someone’s side, or in their heart, then someday——

That would be left behind as nothing but a blank space, with no way to remember what had filled it with color in the first place.

Even if I asked Alfons himself, I would think he would simply laugh it off and say something along the lines of ‘well, if that is what you think, then perhaps that may be so.’

But, thinking about that, I felt his speech and mannerisms had some coherency.

Kate: ...So, about his fate...

K: Is it really possible to change it?

Roger: I know as well as you do. That’s well beyond me.

R: All that’s still being researched.

(Roger was saying that he had been researching this ever since before he had met Alfons.)

Kate: ...And how long has it been that way?

Roger: ——From the time I was a five year old kid, up until today.

(Wow, that is a long time...)

Even while under Her Majesty the Queen, a place that perhaps had the most documents related to the Cursed ones,

Roger, who was also a Cursed one himself,

didn’t know of a way to escape from their tragic fates.

That truth seemed to weigh deeply on my chest.

Kate: ...Thank you, for telling me all this.

Roger: Well, it’s not as though I intend to go back empty-handed.

Kate: Huh? ...wah—

With one hand, he pulled my waist toward him, his lips at my ear.

Roger: With this, you owe me one.

Then when he subsequently kissed the lobe of my ear, I pushed back against Roger’s chest on instinct.

Kate: W-what do you think you’re doing...!

Roger: I brought you medicine to help with a hangover, didn’t I? You can just consider this payment for that.

R: Well then, catch you around, lil lady. And take care of yourself.

With a shrewd smile, he left the room, leaving me alone once again.

Kate: Alfons’ tragic fate...

He was just like an illusion whose surface I could only graze my fingertips upon, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he would fade away from my heart like an actual illusion?

He had no desire to live, and so perhaps he wouldn’t mind if such a day came around tomorrow.

And at that time——would the feelings I had for him fade away as well?

(...I would hate that.)

I should have been searching for a way to bury this love to the grave.

But, no matter how much anguish this heart of love inflicted on me, I didn’t ever want to forget.

I wanted to hold onto these feelings close to my heart forever——even now, I found myself deeply wishing for that.

(I don’t want these feelings to become an illusion.)

——Around the same time, in the corner of the castle, the gears of a certain plot had begun to move.

Surrounding an elderly gentleman donning a blue ring were the other members of the parliament, their faces seeming nervous as they spoke in low voices.

Parliamentary member Goa: ...Have those insolent twats who put out the fire of purification not been caught yet?

to be continued…