It was a feeling I was all too familiar with.
Every time I've failed at something in my life, the walk back home is always what these memories end with. A walk filled with shame and pain, pain deep enough to make me tear of my skin, yet my feet can't stop.
If I stop now, I don't think I'll ever walk again. That is what drives me.
It reminds me of an old memory from when I was in school…
"So, Yu, you're presenting today, aren't you? I'm looking forward to how your introverted-ness transfers to speaking in front of the class.~", my best friend from back then said, full of energy as always.
But as the story goes, I fail, as I often do.
The extent of my failure was easily measured: my presentation was supposed to improve my grade and in the history of the school, there hasn't been a single time that someone had gotten a remotely bad grade during their presentations.
Yet me, being the failure I was and still am, I managed to not only fail entirely, not even getting 30 percent, but it also managed to drag me down by an entire grade in that subject.
'It is regrettable, yet I can just blame it on me not being good at presenting. It's not like I'm extraordinarily bad at the subject.', is what I rationally thought, yet there was another side to the story.
Following that day, the humiliation I received from my classmates was immeasurable. Every time someone would present something, comments about it not possibly being worse than my presentation echoed through the classroom.
The next year, I was brought up to present in another subject again.
Of course, I was nervous. And predictably, it wasn't good. And even if it was better than the last one, it didn't stop my classmates from utterly humiliating me for a second time now.
That day, as I was walking home, I felt a pain so intense that I could barely resist bawling my eyes out in the middle of the populated streets. 'I am and always will be a failure.'
Again, the cruel author of my story laid waste to my already rough path, causing me to stumble and fall in a metaphorical sense, as a group of kids approached me.
I knew them, and I knew they were the type to enjoy annoying and poking fun at people, but especially me.
As they were doing their usual worst, spouting all the mean comments I could think of, my mind was overcome by wrath.
And now that I think back on it, it wasn't something to be proud of. A fourteen year old beating up a bunch of kids wasn't the prettiest sight, I'd imagine. Yet I couldn't stop myself. Just that once, I wanted to pay back the people who were so hell bent on dragging me down.
Even fate itself, which I came to hate due to its continuous hand in ruining my life.
I had no shame, beating those entitled brats into a bloody pulp. Even the use of stones I found on the ground wasn't below me at that moment. I simply couldn't resist laying waste to these people, that I grew to hate more and more during my school life.
It felt strangely good, slamming the fist sized boulder on the devils shin. Yes, they were devils. They didn't deserve any less.
Lost in old memories, I suddenly recall to the present, noticing someone in front of me, blocking my path.
"Yukiko. You look like shit.", the devil said, veiled in darkness.
No, it wasn't the devil, that was talking to me. It was his lackey.
Someone like him wouldn't be something as grand as a devil. It was, after all, the esteemed Hero of the Spatha, Takeshi Kuroda.
Lifting his arm, he motions his party members to lift their weapons, finally lifting his own.
"What are you doing with the young lady of Ilsaar in your hands, might I ask? And… WHY THE HELL IS SHE UNCONSCIOUS? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!", he screams, making several villagers in the area arise from their slumber.
[This will be explained in later chapters, try not to get confused by the mention of Ilsaar.]
As doors open all around us, with worried villagers spectating the showdown, Kuroda takes a deeper grip on his weapon.
But to me, that wasn't Kuroda and his party, standing there. It was fate itself.
The devil had come to take what I had again.
So, for the first time in a while, I lost control of my emotions, causing me to drop the two motionless bodies I had grown tired of holding.
"Kuroda,… what the fuck are you talking about? Do you think you can beat me, just as you did in those duels?", I said coldly, gripping the harsh surface of my weapon as hard as I could.
Just the desire to cut his head off left me weak. My body shivered in helplessness. Helplessness against these raging emotions.
"Have you truly gone mad?! Just leave the bodies there and leave! You don't have to make the situation any worse for yourself than it already is!", he said, taking a single step forward, his feet sinking in the soft mud.
"Master Kuroda is right, vile monster of the halberd! Leave the child of Ilsaar alone!", one of his assumed companions spouted, causing my teeth to crack from the clenching, that I resorted to in order to suppress my cold emotions.
Finally, my halberd couldn't resist the onslaughts of killing intent brushing its surface, turning itself into the [Halberd of the valiant hero].
Immediately following the form change of the halberd, a harsh snow storm encased the entire area in a fifty meter radius.
My eyes twitching, I offer a last warning, "Leave! Now!", I say, long having forgotten the unconscious Elisa on the wet ground next to me.
But before I could find the time to regain my rationality, the members of Kuroda's party fired off a flurry of spells, penetrating the harsh winds surrounding me.
"ACTIVATE UNIQUE ACTIVE SKILL, [TEMPEST].", I screamed, causing time to come to a standstill for a single moment.
And then, in an instant, the storm turned even harsher, immediately dissipating the spells, that now appeared meagre in comparison.
My rage had long dissipated, yet the excitement that replaced that wrath, was just as viscous.
So gathering my strength, I planted my feet deep in the ground, about to engage in combat with the stunned Kuroda, when all of a sudden, a hand grabbed me by the feet, causing me to fall flat on the ground instead.
What followed was an intense silence, followed after the loud crashing sound.
Then, as I laid on the ground, I realised what I was just about to do: I was just about to repeat one of the biggest mistakes of my life, just like i did with those kids.
But what pained me most, was that I now laid defenceless on the ground, yet I didn't feel anger… All i wanted was to… rest.
And as the halberd returned to its original form, the draw backs of the activation of a unique skill were about to hit me, just as they did the first time I used it.
Taking a final look back, I lock gazes with Elisa, until my consciousness finally fades, leaving me in darkness.
'How pained her expression was. This must have been the devils work.'
Yet in the end, it was me.
I was the devil all along.