This game, this twisted little exercise, challenges the very notion of goodwill. In a world where no one's actions come without strings attached, where genuine benevolence is shrouded in deception, it makes you doubt the sincerity of others.
Those who wish to display tenderheartedness must do so with utmost cunning, concealing their true intentions beneath a facade of altruism. On the other hand, those on the receiving end must sharpen their instincts, seeking the hidden motives behind every act of kindness to score precious points in this twisted game.
"It's better to offer help sooner rather than later," the thought echoed in my mind. "If your target gives up or withdraws, you'll miss the chance to demonstrate your goodwill."
Perhaps it's a valuable lesson. A stark reminder that in this world, there's no such thing as unconditional kindness.
"I will distribute the cards randomly to each of you," our homeroom teacher announced, and the mana-infused cards appeared on our desks, face-down. The room descended into silence, the anticipation palpable.
I picked up a card, flipped it over, and my heart sank as soon as I saw the name written on it. A throbbing headache began to form at my temples as if fate itself were playing a cruel joke.
Why the hell does it have to be her, does this world not love me at all?
I hated her so much before my regression, and she has to be my secret partner for this game.
Oh, hell no.
But there is nothing I can do about it. Let's endure it for now.
I sigh as I look ahead of me.
"I assume everyone has checked," the coordinator stated with an expectant look.
A collective sigh of despair filled the classroom, and even the coordinator seemed taken aback by the genuine dismay.
"Self-introduction is a tradition of the Provisional Assembly," he continued, unperturbed by the students' reactions. "Are you going to react like this on the day of your college interviews?"
Then, his gaze landed on me.
"You, who came in last, go first."
It was my turn, and my headache intensified. Why me? Should I reveal my condition as a Brain tumour cancer patient? Would that change anything?
"Stand up," the coordinator demanded.
I rose from my seat, feeling a mix of frustration and anxiety. I looked around the crowded hall, filled with students, some disinterested, some amused, and others openly condescending.
Particularly, Lyra, seated beside me, wore a smirk that made my blood boil. She relished the opportunity to see me in a vulnerable position.
I sighed and answered the coordinator's question, "...Drawing."
"Drawing?" he repeated, his expression neutral.
"Yes," I replied. "I know how to draw."
My hobbies, often pursued while lying down due to my condition, included listening to music, reading, exploring information, scrapbooking newspaper articles, and drawing. Among them, I developed a considerable talent for drawing.
The next question took me by surprise, "What's your dream?"
The word "dream" felt strange, its nuance unfamiliar. It had been a long time since I thought about my future.
As I hesitated, the old man, Belt, seemed to whisper in my ear. "Become the most trustworthy person to your enemy, become their most important person, and then kill them behind their back."
Why was I thinking about that now? It sounded simple, yet it was an excruciatingly difficult path to follow, especially considering Aurlia's otherworldly reach.
"Do you not have a dream?" the coordinator pressed.
I found myself muttering, almost absentmindedly, "...Strong."
I clenched my fist and opened my eyes, realizing I was smiling. I couldn't help it.
"Strong?"
"Yes," I affirmed, my determination unwavering. If they reside in a different realm, I will reach that realm. I will exact a price fitting for this damned life from them.
"I want very strong so that others don't look down on me," I repeated, my resolve echoing through the classroom.
The coordinator's response was simply, "That's quite ambitious."
But it didn't matter. Laughter erupted, scornful and derisive, mixed with contempt and disdain. They laughed at my aspiration to become a strong, but it didn't matter.
"Yes, I guess."
I joined in their laughter, genuine and heartfelt. For the first time since I regressed, I truly laughed.
In this cruel game of goodwill and deception, where trust was a rare commodity, my ambition to reach Aurelia burned like a beacon. It was a resolution, small but resolute, a prayer sent out into the universe, hoping that someone, somewhere, would hear it from above.
***
As the class came to an end, I was the first to leave. There was a pressing issue on my mind - I needed to find a part-time job. Money was tight, and I had to secure a source of income to sustain myself. The college board program might be a prestigious endeavour, but it didn't come with financial support. Survival was a priority.
Once I stepped out of Elit's grounds, I began my quest to find a job in the bustling food market. I approached stall after stall, inquiring about employment opportunities.
However, my hopes were quickly dashed.
The owners were reluctant to hire a student without a proper home, and their scepticism was palpable. Hours passed as I persistently sought employment, but no one seemed willing to give me a chance.
By the time midnight approached, I had exhausted all my options. My body ached from the fruitless search, and despair began to creep in. I had nowhere to go, no place to lay my head. Desperation gnawed at me, knowing that finding shelter for the night would be a challenge in itself.
I trudged back to the old school building of Elit, hoping to find solace there, albeit temporarily.
The temporary residence on the second floor of the old building is where I'm headed right now.
It was a risky choice, as I needed to remain unnoticed. If anyone reported me for using this abandoned building as my makeshift home, they would likely kick me out. But there were no other options. I needed rest.
Careful not to draw any attention, I settled down on the floor, clutching a single thin blanket. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me. The events of the day, the relentless job hunt, and the uncertainty of my future converged into a heavy burden. As soon as I lay on the hard floor, sleep claimed me instantly, wrapping me in its merciful embrace, offering temporary respite from the harsh reality I faced.