[Novel] Part1. Old one's diary - prologue / ep1. The school opening ceremony

Old one's diary prologue

 

 On the last day of the year 4332 of the Matamainian calendar, on the planet Matamaini, snow was falling.

 A middle-aged woman entered a private room in a nursing hospital as if she were familiar with it. As she came in, she found that the old one was awake and conscious. Moved by this, a warm smile spread across her sharp eyes and her face, which had few wrinkles for her age.

 "You're awake today? How are you feeling?"

 The middle-aged woman took off her scarf and spoke to the old one.

 Then she noticed some old-looking books stacked on the table beside the hospital bed.

 "These are...? Diaries?"
 "...Read. Ask me if there's anything you want to know."

 The old one’s voice was still faint, like it was leaking out, but unlike when consciousness was hazy, there was a certain firmness and strength to it now.

 At the old one's words, the middle-aged woman replied with a puzzled tone, questioning whether it was really necessary.

 "...Right now?"

 There were several volumes, quite thick. Enough to make one wonder if it was even possible to read them all at once.

 But for her, in all the time she had known the old one, she had never seen these belongings. The diaries had been that well hidden. Naturally, curiosity was stirred. With hands reflecting mixed feelings―unwillingness, curiosity, and an inexplicable tenderness―she gently touched the worn covers.

 The sharp-eyed middle-aged woman turned to the first page of the diary.



* * *

 

Old one's diary ep.1 - The school opening ceremony  

  Planet Matamaini, Matamainian Year 4257―

 That day was the opening ceremony of a newly built school in the capital of the Gurea nation on Matamaini.

 One of the rulers dispatched to Matamaini from Sector 9 of the galaxy stepped onto the stage to give a congratulatory speech. Cheers erupted.

 "Whoaaa!"

 The one standing on stage was the very person who had invaded Gurea, forced unfair treaties through coercion, and ordered the plundering of goods and property. They had also orchestrated mass killings and torture of the people of Gurea and other nations on Matamaini, and even of residents from other planets―leaving countless people physically and mentally crippled.

 This person had previously opposed the establishment of schools offering higher education, saying there was no need for such things. In their view, education only needed to enable people to understand enough words to be of use.

 But "today", that very person stood on the stage for the school’s opening ceremony. The official reason was that Sector 9 had selected them as a benevolent figure who had greatly contributed to the founding of a new school for advanced knowledge in response to the demands of the Gurea people. And so, they stood here to deliver the opening speech.

 Had their views changed? Of course not. They hadn't donated a single cent. They had never invested time or effort. The authorization documents weren’t even signed by them￣it had been reluctantly signed by a subordinate. The funds and movement to establish this school were the result of Gurea citizens' efforts. They knew this full well.
 Their presence here was just an extension of one of their beliefs.

 To make use of it.

 "Whoaaa!"

 The gathered crowd cheered as though welcoming a victorious general.

 Amid the cheering crowd, a tall guy and a young boy clapped in rhythm with the atmosphere.

 "Wasn’t that a bit too reckless?"

 The (looking like)boy looked up at the tall guy with worry.

 "You came all the way here on your own and dumped money to support this place..."

 The boy’s complaints continued.

 "You know this is just for show, right? What were you thinking?"
 "…I know."

 Despite the boy’s concern, the tall guy answered with a composed expression, suppressing the flickering emotions in his eyes, clapping just enough to blend in with the people around.

 "…Are you really going to meet Upenza? What if it turns out to be nothing? What if this all goes wrong?"

 Taking advantage of the noisy surroundings, the boy mentioned the name Upenza.
 At that moment, the tall guy suddenly spoke seriously.

 "More importantly, I think something really big is happening right now."
 "Huh!?"
 "I need to poop. Urgently."

 Apparently, the tall guy really did need a bathroom—cold sweat had started forming.
 The boy gave him a disapproving look.

 "…You didn’t go before we came?"
 "I left in such a rush…"

 They pushed through the crowd and headed toward one of the newly constructed school buildings.

 But at the entrance stood a guard in a military uniform from Sector 9, blocking the way like a sentry.

 "You cannot enter the building right now."
 "Why!?"

The tall guy’s expression grew worse. His stomach was already churning audibly, and sweat poured from him like rain.

 "It’s an emergency. Just let me in for a moment―please…"

 Seeing his condition, the guard didn’t use force or kick him out. Instead, he calmly explained classified details.

 "Sorry, but go somewhere else. We received intel about a potential threat during the opening ceremony, so the area is locked down. There’s a bathroom outside the school―only a 10 minute walk."
 "10 minutes!?"

 The tall guy recoiled in horror at the number.

 Behind them, the boy―quietly listening to the conversation―froze when he heard the words, A dangerous act'.

 'Come to think of it, today’s the day that explosion happened…'

At that moment, the boy’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

 "Auxil."
 “Yes?”

 The tall guy called the boy calmly by the name Auxil.
 And in the next instant―

Smack!

 "Ugh!"

The tall guy landed a solid blow on the guard’s head. So cleanly that the guard dropped to the ground immediately.

 "Take care of the rest!"

Leaving those words behind, the tall guy bolted into the building without looking back.

 "Are you crazy!?"

 Auxil was immediately restrained by the guard, now taking him as a hostage.

 The guard shouted at the top of his lungs for reinforcements.

 "Catch that bastard!"
 "What’s happening!?"
 "An intruder―there’s an intr―argh!"
 "You little―!"

 It seemed Auxil ended up joining the scuffle, trying to stop them. Several guards rushed in, a brawl broke out, and the chaos continued. The tall guy ran deeper into the building, leaving the uproar behind.



 Leaving all the chaos behind, the tall guy was now sitting on the toilet with a face full of relief and joy. Despite the huge mess he had just caused, inside the stall he looked completely at ease, as if none of it had anything to do with him.

 "Whew~"

Letting out a sigh of relief, the tall guy reached for the toilet paper holder. But―

 "Huh?"

 The holder was completely empty.

 'What? They didn’t even put toilet paper in a brand-new building!?'

 Without even considering the possibility that a new building might not have been stocked yet, the tall guy selfishly assumed the oversight was ridiculous. Now facing a different kind of crisis, he began to sweat again―this time not from the urge, but from panic.

Just then, there was a rustling sound from the next stall. Someone cleared their throat lightly, signaling their presence, and began speaking.

 "Ahem… I didn’t expect you to come… The sir said you wouldn’t do this again, and yet…"
 "Um?"
 "You weren’t followed, were you?"

Hearing the voice from the next stall, the tall guy felt as though a rope from the heavens had dropped down to save him. He answered cheerfully.

 "Oh? You too? There probably was someone following, but my… uh… my assistant should’ve handled it."

 The tall guy hesitated slightly when referring to Auxil as his “assistant.”

 "I see… There’s not much time left, companion."
 "Um… So, actually… I came in a rush, and… if you have any extra, could you possibly spare some…?"

 The tall guy asked politely, using formal language, carefully requesting some toilet paper.

 In response, the person in the next stall replied with a small but clearly disappointed and slightly scornful tone.

 "You forgot it like that? Good grief…"

 After a brief rustling sound, a hand wearing a wristwatch slowly extended under the stall divider. Whatever it held was mostly obscured by his large hand, wrapped in something like a toilet paper roll. The object, however, had several colored wires sticking out and was making an ominous beeping noise.

 The tall guy accepted it without much thought. But as he felt its unexpected weight, he raised it and began to examine it more closely. By the time he realized something was off, it was already fully in his hands.

When he finally saw what was wrapped in the paper roll, his hands began to tremble, his face turned pale, and cold sweat returned.

 '…Is this… a bomb!?'

 Then, the next stall occupant spoke again―confirming the tall guy’s worst fear.

 "It’s going to go off soon. Let’s go!"

Beep beep beep

 The attached timer showed less than sixty seconds remaining.

 The sound of someone cautiously stepping out of the stall followed.

 Realizing the gravity of the situation, the tall guy hurriedly tried to pull up his pants, not even caring whether he’d wiped or not. Now that a bomb was involved, such concerns were clearly forgotten.

 "Hurry out. I’ll break the protection shield—just throw it as soon as I do."
 "Wait, no, hold on―sir? Actually, I…"

 The tall guy rushed out of the stall, trying to object.

 "Found him!"

 Suddenly, a voice from the restroom entrance—one of the police.

The tall guy froze in place, paralyzed. His mind seemed to go completely blank.

 "Tch!"

 In that split―second moment, the person from the next stall yanked the safety pin from the bomb with their teeth and hurled it out the bathroom window.

 Just as everyone gasped, everything happened far too quickly to stop.



 A small cylindrical bomb flew toward the stage of the opening ceremony—toward the one who believed education was needed only to make people useful.
 Some of the spectators standing at the front noticed the object.

 "Huh?"

 A startled exclamation barely escaped someone’s lips before the bomb struck something invisible—a protection shield meant to guard the stage.

BOOM!

 The transparent shield shattered, and a massive blast echoed outward, shaking the ground. Screams erupted from all directions, and chaos broke loose in an instant.



Bang!

 Just as the explosion rang out, a gunshot echoed inside the restroom of the building. But it was buried beneath the sound of the bomb, heard only by those nearby.

 And somehow, the tall guy now found himself with a blade held to his neck, seized by the person from the next stall.

 "If you want to save the hostage, drop your weapon on the floor and raise your hands."

 The police would be rushing in soon anyway. In reality, this hostage act was pointless―they were already cornered. But the stallmate, pretending to remain calm, spoke sternly. Then, as the tall guy hesitantly raised his hands, the other person swiftly and discreetly retrieved the bomb from his grasp.

 At a glance, it looked like the tall guy was being held hostage. But he knew the truth: the man from the stall was barely holding himself up by leaning against him, trembling, his life hanging on by sheer willpower. That earlier gunshot had grazed his abdomen. If he hadn’t grabbed onto the tall guy at that moment, he might have collapsed on the spot.

Through ragged breathing, a fading voice whispered in the tall guy’s ear―too low for anyone else to hear.

 "One… sacrifice is enough. You… must live… to witness liberation…"

 'Wait, will you―'

 The man from the stall used his last bit of strength to shove the tall guy away.



 Outside the building, several police officers were lying unconscious, piled atop one another. Sitting on top of them was Auxil, pretending to have surrendered, pretending to be restrained, as the newly arrived officers kept a wary watch on him.

 Suddenly, Auxil covered his ears and began murmuring something—sounding like a chant, or maybe a code.

BOOM!

 The bomb exploded. The section of the building that had once been the restroom burst outward in a shower of debris. Plumbing ruptured, spraying water and smoke into the air.

More screams rang out among the already―panicked crowd, now driven to new heights of fear.



 The tall guy, having been thrown to the ground, pushed himself up and looked behind him in shock. The wall that had once stood there was gone—through the mist and steam, only the sky was visible now.

 Ears were ringing.
 Outside, people were screaming, shouting orders, panicking. But in the tall guy’s ears, all he heard was a piercing ring and muffled sound. It was as if the noise around him didn’t exist.

 Actually he did hear it, but he was just so absorbed in one place that he didn’t pay attention.

 The tall guy stared at the spot where the other man had just been. Even as blood crept toward him through the water pooling on the ground, he stood there blankly, eyes fixed on that space.

 Even as a police officer pulled his arm, lifted him up, bound him, and started dragging him away, he kept staring.

 As if he’d seen something unbelievable. As if full of questions. As if reality hadn’t sunk in.

 As if… it was all his fault.

 His face was lost in thought—perhaps even dazed.

 Even when he was brought into an interrogation room filled with torture tools, his expression didn’t change. The officer asked him various questions, but he just kept giving the same, consistent answers.
 All he could say was that he had simply entered the restroom because it was urgent. Within the bounds of what he was allowed to say, he was telling the truth—nothing but the truth.

 Just as the officer was about to give him one last chance before resorting to harsher methods, another officer burst in through the door, clearly in a rush. He whispered something into the interrogator’s ear.
 As they spoke, they both occasionally glanced at the tall guy.

 After a few nods and sideways glances, the interrogator finally spoke.

 "…You’re free. Go home."



Clang.

 Behind him, the heavy iron bars closed as the tall guy slowly walked down the long hallway, alone.

 Then, coming from the opposite end of the hallway, a group of police officers appeared―escorting someone who could no longer walk properly. The man was bound, his face covered with a cloth hood.

 As the tall guy passed them, he glanced back at the hooded figure. His eyes were drawn to the wrist of the man behind his back.

A wristwatch.

 That wristwatch―the same one he saw when the bomb, mistaken for a roll of toilet paper, had been handed to him under the stall.

 The tall guy stopped walking.
 His head lowered, seemingly involuntarily.

 Behind him, the bound man kept walking—his steps unsteady but unwavering.



 That man had once been a son who loved his mother’s grilled fish. A brother who gave away the savings he’d worked years for when his little sister got married. A friend who turned beet red when he drank and was teased for looking like a radish. A student who blushed and stammered when the teacher asked him questions―but still managed to get the answers right. An employee at a printing press who always looked nervous when the chief called for him. He had been a soldier of the Matamainian Liberation Movem—

Bang.

 Matamainian Calendar, 4229–4257.
 Executed by firing squad.

 

 

 

 

 

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This chapter was translated gently, with ChatGPT.