I woke up on a cheap bed.
The yellowed ceiling greeted me warmly. Looking at it, I suddenly remembered what Cesar had told me yesterday.
– You know, if you’re going to smoke cigarettes at home like this, at least ventilate while you do it. The wallpaper is turning yellow! You’ll have to pay for all the wallpaper later….
Now that I think about it, I don’t even have any money. I let out a hollow laugh.
“…Seriously.”
During my time serving as a military priest, I did receive a monthly salary. I still hadn’t spent that money.
I was afraid to spend that money. Because it was earned from killing people, because it felt like blood-soaked money.
I rummaged through my pockets. Out came an already empty cigarette case and an old, worn-out wallet. Opening the wallet, of course, there were no coins.
I slowly sat up from the bed. As I stepped into the living room, I spotted the paper that Cesar had left behind. I picked it up.
[ Central Plaza. 331-2. 3rd floor. ]
The paper contained an unfamiliar address. A place I didn’t know, an area I didn’t recognize. And probably people I didn’t know too.
I stared at the address for a moment before slipping it into my pocket. I scanned the now-empty living room.
The paper was smaller than the size of my palm. But once the paper was gone, for the first time, I could see the state of the living room at a glance.
Empty cigarette cases rolling around here and there, and an overflowing ashtray stacked high with cigarette butts. Plus, the balcony in front was drenched because I had gone to sleep without closing the window.
“…….”
I had no thoughts. But still, my body moved on its own.
I cleared away the empty cigarette cases scattered on the floor and emptied the ashtray piled with butts.
I swept up the ashes that had accumulated on the floor and wiped it down with a rag. While I was at it, I wiped off the moisture in front of the balcony.
The messy living room began to regain some semblance of its original state. I looked at the clock hanging on one side of the living room.
The hands of the clock pointed to ten in the morning. It was a clock that hadn’t been maintained in ages, so I couldn’t tell if it was accurate.
I turned my gaze back to the living room. The space was now much tidier. I stared at it blankly.
It had cleaned up, but the yellowish wallpaper and ceiling were unavoidable.
“…Huh.”
Suddenly, I found it absurd. Thus, I smiled.
After all, it was bound to return to its pigsty state within a week. It seemed ridiculous to feel proud of having cleaned up for no reason. I turned my gaze from the living room toward the kitchen.
There had been hardly any food I had consumed, so there was nearly nothing to wash. I opened the cupboard to find a cup to pour water into.
– Thud.
As I opened the cupboard, something fell in front of me. I looked closely at it.
It was a teabag of cheap black tea. A low-cost item I didn’t even remember buying. I stared at it for a moment and then took out a teacup and a kettle from the cupboard.
It had been a long time since I had brewed black tea. Since I was steeping it in a teabag, it was more accurate to say I was boiling water rather than brewing tea.
There was no sugar in the kitchen. I habitually attempted to add a sugar cube before remembering that fact and giving up the search for sugar.
The water in the kettle began to boil. I placed the teabag in the neatly designed cup and slowly poured the boiling water over it.
Though it was a cheap teabag, the fragrant aroma of black tea couldn’t be hidden. The smell of black tea I hadn’t experienced in a long time tickled my nose.
I set the cup down on the old dining table in the kitchen, pulled out a chair, and sat down. I waited for the teabag to steep sufficiently.
The house was enveloped in silence.
I stopped gazing dreamily at the steaming black tea and, this time, looked past the balcony. The dense dark clouds were still moving busily.
It was not raining, but it looked like it was about to pour down any minute. I lifted the cup filled with black tea.
– Slurp.
Bitter. Just taking a sip, the unpleasant bitterness—tinged with a faint aroma of black tea—ravaged my mouth. It had the taste of cheap black tea.
It was a familiar taste that I had drank to the point of being sick of it, and it was not one I liked. I set the cup down.
Though there were two chairs, I was the only one sitting at the table. I cast my gaze towards the empty chair across from me.
“…….”
As if someone were there. No, as if I hoped someone was there. I stared blankly at the empty spot in front of me for a long time.
The black tea was gradually cooling down. Helena didn’t particularly like drinking hot tea right away. She had a cat’s tongue.
I gently pushed the cup containing the suitably cooled black tea. The cup positioned itself in the void opposite me consumed by emptiness.
Bitter, lukewarm black tea without sugar. Just like I had once served it to someone who particularly liked it, I pushed the cup to the empty spot at the table. That was all.
As if someone were sitting there.
“…Here, drink.”
I murmured and stood up from the chair.
It was to meet Cesar. While I was searching for an umbrella, I realized that I didn’t have one at home and gave up on that too. If it rains, I’ll just have to face it as it comes.
Recalling the paper I had put in my pocket, I glanced back at the table and left the house like that.
I hoped that the black tea left all alone on the table wouldn’t get too cold.
*
The streets of the city were quiet. This was partly because it was a weekday, and also due to the gloomy weather that made one feel melancholy just by looking at it.
The only people I saw walking on the rainy streets were those engaged in their livelihoods despite the bad weather or losers drowning in extreme depression.
I was in the latter category. It wasn’t that I was wandering aimlessly without a destination, but it wasn’t as though I had a definite plan either.
– Thunder…
The overcast sky seemed like it was about to pour at any moment. A chilly wind that I would not have expected for August blew in.
I walked aimlessly. Though Cesar had left an address for his office, I wasn’t particularly familiar with the geography of the city since I had lived in a rural village before the war broke out.
If I asked passersby for directions, I could probably get there quickly, but I couldn’t do that. Ever since I returned from the Holy Empire, I had come to fear the gazes of ordinary people walking down the streets.
Suddenly, I felt an extreme sense of melancholy. I felt like I might burst into tears. I bit my lip and swallowed my sad emotions, continuing to walk.
A wind that felt much colder than one would expect in August. A gloomy sky as if it were going to pour at any moment. Even the dark clouds drifting by blocking the sun.
The faint smell of something burning caught my attention, riding on the wind. I squinted as I caught a whiff of it.
It reminded me of the memories from the battlefield—the thick smoke and the smell of gunpowder filling the sky. Rain pouring down and turning the trenches into mud.
And inside, where everything had changed to the point of being barely recognizable…
The weather that day was similar to today. Perhaps even gloomier than today.
“Did you hear? There was a fire nearby…”
“I thought I smelled something burning earlier, was there a fire?”
As pedestrians approached from ahead, they murmured to each other, nearing me. Their faces wore gloomy expressions to match the weather.
“Where did the fire break out?”
“I heard it was on Central Plaza Avenue. It’s a place where buildings are closely packed together; I wonder how well the firefighting will go.”
“Ugh… It’s already windy; this is bad news.”
I half-listened to the conversation of the passing pedestrians, rummaging in my pocket. I pulled out the paper that Cesar had given me.
[ Central Plaza. 331-2. 3rd floor. ]
Central Plaza. It seemed I should head there first. I continued to walk.
Even if I wasn’t familiar with the geography of the city, I had a vague knowledge of a large and conspicuous place like Central Plaza.
The smell of smoke thickened as I continued walking. My pace quickened a little.
– They say there was a fire on Central Plaza Avenue. Buildings are closely packed together; I wonder how well the firefighting will go.
“……”
– I know. Damn it. It’s not just us thinking this, but it feels like someone has been tailing us since recently.
My pace quickened again. The leisurely speed at which I was walking sped up to a brisk walk. The brisk walk soon turned into a run.
“Gah…! Huff…!”
Damn it. Shit.
Please, I hope I’m wrong. I hope my fears are unfounded.
Unfortunately, as I got closer to the plaza, the intensity of the burning smell thickened. I shook my head desperately to expel my anxiety.
The number of pedestrians on the avenue increased significantly, almost as if they were gathering to see something.
I pushed through the crowd of people, running with all my might. I thought I heard shouts from people I pushed past, but I didn’t have time to turn back.
How long had I been running? The gloomy gray sky was pierced by thick black smoke now visible in my line of sight. I had only one corner left to reach Central Plaza.
With labored breaths and my heart pounding as if it would burst, my body began to feel hot from the rush of blood. I rounded the corner without losing my speed.
“Connect the hose! Attach an additional hose! Damn it! Aim the magic accurately!”
“It’s on the 3rd floor! Aim for the 3rd floor!”
“It’s spreading to other buildings! Don’t deploy yet!”
The plaza was in chaos. Flames were greedily devouring the buildings, licking out fiercely through the windows. Firefighters and mages were struggling to contain it.
And there I stood. I stood staring blankly at it, alternating between the paper in my hand and the burning building.
Realizing that the address of the burning building matched the one on the paper.
“…Ah.”
I was afflicted by the curse of cognition.
People sometimes find themselves caught in the webs of the curse of cognition.
It is a terrifying thing. In the footsteps of humanity, where knowing becomes power, the curse of cognition has endured unendingly.
Across generations. An original sin from the primordial human has become a legacy, like a curse that has been passed down—settling as an ambition of the human race.
“Damn it! The flames are too fierce! We need more elemental mages! Water types!”
“We’ve collected as much as we can! We’ll need support from other establishments to go any further!”
“Contact the Mage Tower! Or request assistance from the nearby academy!”
An unbreakable chain of curses. It has seeped into the kings who ruled this land long ago, into the lords who supported them, into the elite and intellectuals beyond them.
Even to the simple farmers of rural villages who sought a pastoral life.
And it spread like that. It burrowed into the hearts of the wounded.
It could be you, or you from yesterday, or you from tomorrow.
“Survivor! There’s a survivor!”
“Where?!”
“Just now, someone leaned out from the window!”
The curse of cognition. It is a curse where simply being aware becomes a sin.
So, information that should not be known. Things that should not have been seen. Wails that should not have been heard.
If one gets caught in it, they likely will not be able to live a normal life. Returning to normalcy takes a long time. No, perhaps it may never happen.
– Aaaah—!!! It’s hot!!
I shouldn’t have known that. I should not have heard it; I should not have seen it. No, I shouldn’t have been there.
When it became abundantly clear when and how and why it came to be, the clarity only brought more pain.
As I listened to Cesar’s desperate scream, briefly visible through the flames licking out from the windows.
– Save me! Please—!!
… I was afflicted by the curse of cognition.
And I realized.
I would likely carry this curse with me for the rest of my life.
It was a day as gloomy as the day Helena died, a day that seemed like it would rain.
In the end, the rain did not fall.
