Astarte’s Knight Chapter 5

AUTHOR’S MESSAGE: ※There might be people with feelings hurt. I’m sorry if this happens.

“This d.a.m.ned brat!!”

Saying this, my father hit my 6 year-old self with a blunt weapon.
But I can’t quite feel the pain.

Nn? Ah, this is a dream.
There’s too many places to tsukkomi at, so I gained self-consciousness early.

What was I hit with this time?
A beer bottle? An ashtray? Something like having my head grabbed and knocked into a desk also happened before.
It often ended without me having to go to the hospital.
Just how thick of a skull did I have.

Looking back on the guy that was me, I’ve always been uselessly tough.
Thinking back now, that probably made my parents become more severe.
Rather, if just one hospital incident occurred, my father and mother might have taken that chance to reflect and aim at becoming good parents.

…Nope, not happening.
I can make this absolute declaration.

At that time, the reason they hit me was…I really can’t remember.
There might have been no particular reason.
If I can’t remember, it probably wasn’t something big.
In reality, they exercised violence because of trivial things like “I don’t like that dis-pleasured look in your eyes” or “even though I talked to you, your response was late”.
The reasons I understood were remotely few.

“Otou-san…”

My 6 year-old self stood up tottering after getting hit.
Oioi, he’ll snap so don’t talk to that guy, how reckless.
Let sleeping dogs lie.
The best plan is to wait for orders near the entrance right now.

Actually, it’s the most peaceful when I’m not at home, but if he calls for me when I’m not in the house, he’ll still hit me again later. How tiresome.

But it seems the me of this time couldn’t do such an efficient way of living yet.
Slowly standing up with a “gugugu” (*groan*), my 6 year-old self continued to talked to my father.

“Otou-san…”
“Aah!? I taught you didn’t I, brat! Sake, go buy some sake!

Saying this, my father threw several coins at the feet of my 6 years-old self.
All were old coins below 50 yen individually. There were around 15.

Just what kind of sake do I go buy?
But even one cup at a convenience store is 200 yen?
My father was dead-drunk.
Seriously, the poor shouldn’t do such d.a.m.ned things.
(TL: not sure how to phrase sentence 貧乏なクセにこんな罰当たりな事してんじゃねーよまったく。)
That’s why we’re always poor.

I think the 18 years-old me would have definitely picked up that money and said “I’ll go buy some then, what would you like?”, and leave with a smile while having poison in my heart.
Because of that, my father’s mood would improve, and the house would become emptier for a while.
It was a plan where by the time I return, my father would be sound asleep, and by the time he wakes up, he would completely forget about the things he instructed me to do.

9 1 yen coins, 2 5 yen coins, 3 10 yen coins, 1 50 yen coin.
I had a total of 99 yen.
I could buy a tuna onigiri from the convenience store if I had 11 yen more, so I had the food expenses for one meal.
Bread is also good, but if your a j.a.panese person, your stomach won’t be happy if it’s not rice after all!

On the contrary, if I disobeyed my father here, what I would get is not a tuna onigiri, but several serious punches.
Probably to the extent where my handsome face would be pointlessly damaged.
It wasn’t like anything would improve if I disobeyed my father here, so I would choose the way which finishes this quickly and quietly.
The best way to finish this without losing anything.
Adults are like that right?

But my 6-years old self didn’t pick up the money.
Furthermore, I clung unto my dad.
Oioi, are you sane?
Still, isn’t my lack of learning ability too much, just how idiotic was my 6-years old self.

“About the birthday…”
“Aah!?”

Aah…
I recalled that utterance.
At that time, my elementary school friend’s birthday party was in my neighbourhood.

The cla.s.s representative invited a guy like me to his house’s birthday party, even though I had a shabby appearance because I never had good clothes bought and given to me.

Even now I still remember when he protected me from the worthless bullying.
Well, the end result wasn’t that good though…

I was surprised when he invited me to their house’s birthday party.
From my biased point of view, his house had a kind mother.
His house didn’t have a father who stayed inside day and night.
He had one who always worked hard in a “bro-ker-age fi-rm”.
I didn’t know what a brokerage firm did at that time, but somehow, the fact it’s amazing transmitted to me.
Looking at the wonderful house furnished with stairs ascending 3 floors, it was obvious that all children admired it.

That birthday party was the best time of my life.

Everyone ate K●ntucky Fried Chicken!
The homemade strawberry shortcake filled with fresh cream which his aunt made for everybody!

That’s the thing!
The quality of a fresh homemade cake with cream is certainly different than a store-bought cake!!
The moment I noticed that I seriously trembled…!!

Everyone ate a delicious feast (I later knew that all the children’s parents, except for mine, called in to say their thanks).
Everyone exchanged presents (I was the only person who didn’t bring a big thing, but no one said anything, and it was warmly received).
It was the most fun time of my life.
It was the most blessed time of my life.

And then, when the party’s excitement reached it’s climax—-I returned home.
Of course, I told an obvious lie of “something came up” so this and that person’s mother wouldn’t realize anything.

I realized, for some reason, my heart would be dyed in a murky black every time I felt happiness.
Even though I ignored it, I couldn’t shake it off, and soon, the dark feelings in my heart exploded.
The me of right now clearly knows why I shouted out my feelings.

It was “jealousy”.

“Why isn’t my family like this?”

I felt the me, who sat and hugged his knees alone on the other side of my heart, ask this.
I ignored me with all my power, but that guy was very obstinate.

It was an image of me, who was sitting and hugging his knees while covered in a dark aura, floating and coming here with a “zuun” (*fast motion*).
While laughing with an ghastly laugh of “ufufufufufufufu”.
Honestly, that’s quite annoying. Go die.

It seems my old self was in a fairly crowded place.

But luckily, my 6 year-old self wasn’t stupid enough to vent the feelings exploding in my mind on other people, and it finished where they were just a bit suspicious.
In order to prevent the side of the despair-like guy, who was sitting and hugging his knees, from coming out, I frantically kicked that guy’s b.u.t.t to the opposite bank.

I think my 6 year-old self was able to use reason to gain control of his emotions, only because my father and mother’s frequent “tormenting” made me start learning the skill of reading other people’s expressions.

Only there I thanked my father and mother’s training.
Otherwise I would have vented my anger on the one rare family that was nice to me.

At that time, I requested “I want a birthday party too!!” to my father because of my feelings of guilt from leaving the party midway.
There wasn’t really a basis for it, but I felt that if I invited the other person and they were happy, we would be even.
Thinking back now, it was a reckless action akin to suicide.

Naturally, what awaited was violence, and my birthday party was never held.

Did my 6 year-old self really want to hold a birthday party because of the feelings of guilt from running home from the party, or was it because I wanted to show my cla.s.smate “you and I are equal after all”?
I can’t remember right now.
I don’t want to remember.

“I want a birthday party like Sudou-kun’s too, Otou-san.”

My 6 year-old self haven’t opposed my father yet.
There’s one more thing I recall.
The me of that time had non-existent learning ability. But I still didn’t want to withdraw.
I clung onto my thoughts of grasping at the straws of the humanity of the man known as my father.

“I don’t give a d.a.m.n, just do whatever you want.”

“But I can’t call them to such a house…there’s lots of trash laid around, and we don’t even have tableware…”
“Then go wash it yourself.”

“Sudou-kun’s house was clean.”
“Sudou? Ahh, that family’s rich. You, get along well with that family. Even you want to eat delicious things again, right?”

In other words, my father said I should leech off of the good people who were unusually kind to me.
Just how rotten is he.

“Even I want an otou-san like the one in Sudou-kun’s family…!”
“Ah!? What did you just say!”?

s.h.i.+t, my father is on the verge of snapping.
Please shut up, any more above this and.
I begged like this, but this is a dream to begin with, a dream showing me my past memories.
Right now, I wasn’t able to interfere.
In other words, a speech resulted, as if my 6 year-old self ignited a dynamite fuse within himself.

“Why does otou-san drink sake all the time? Why don’t you work!? Everybody works! Even though everybody is normal, why is it only my family is strange! I wish I was never born!!”

“This son of a b.i.t.c.h, if I let him say what he wants…”

Ahh mou, I’m really embarra.s.sed…
Even a dark history has a limit.
From top to bottom, this truly is the worst and s.h.i.+ttiest nightmare.

My father hit me with a “gan” (*wham*) and my dream ended.