Almistyor
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Somehow, Living Life in Another World is Wrong, as I Expected Ch. 8.3
🕑 Added 2025-02-09 12:00:14 +0000 UTCKnowing when to do something and actually doing it are two very different concepts. Not just in the sense of inaction and action, but the knowledge in doing what they’re referring to.
Take for example, the idealist. An idealist can just as easily say that they’ll do one thing, but never actually follow through with it. Whether it’s due to a lack of actual capability, or they attempted to do it and failed. Idealism and realism rarely go hand in hand, and in those rare instances where they do, it’s called a miracle.
What I’m saying is that I have been a bit too idealistic recently. I was here, hoping for a miracle to happen, forgetting that as idealistic as I was, reality would always find a way to smack me in the face.
Hm? What was I talking about? What miracle would have been so far fetched that I would be so upset that I would start up my inner monologue?
Why, I was talking about Felt and Rom actually fucking cleaning up after themselves!
…
I hadn’t noticed when I first entered the room since I was still too damn tired. Upon finally seeing the absolute state of everything, I could only let out a breath of frustration.
Empty bottles - milk and alcohol alike - littered the floor, shards of broken wood that I could vaguely recognize as the remnants of one of my stools, and the faint smell of puke in the air. Oi, Rom, don’t think I don’t see you trying to hide that stain on the floor!
“How the hell did you do all this in less than a day?” I groaned as I mentally tallied up how much it would cost to repair everything. It wasn’t that much in the grand scheme of things, but it was the principle of the matter, “You were staying with Astrea, weren’t you? Did you sneak out and trash this place?”
I had to raise an eyebrow as both Felt and Rom froze. Not in guilt as I would have thought though. On their faces, I could spot confusion, instead.
“Uh, well, in our defense, we didn’t? Do this in a day, I mean.” Felt raised her hand as if we were in a classroom, “It’s kinda been like this for a while now?”
I narrowed my eyes, “Define ‘a while’.”
“...couple of weeks?” Rom piped up with a hand to his chin, “No, closer to a month now, I think.”
My temple throbbed as the thought of having my entire shop a damn pigsty for the past month bounced around.
“How?”
“Boss, you barely come into the shop anymore, you know?” Felt pointed at me with a raised eyebrow, “Seriously, every time you’ve come over, it’s either straight to your room or outside to test something.”
…She’s right. Holy shit, when was the last time I’d come into my shop? I can’t even remember, maybe it was just before I talked to Mathers about the library access? If so, then has this been the state of my place for that entire time?
“Alright.” I said, my voice low and measured, trying to keep the rising frustration from boiling over. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You two are going to clean this place up. Every. Single. Inch. And you’re going to do it properly. No half-assing it, no leaving stains or broken pieces lying around. You’re going to make this place look like it did before you two decided to turn it into a landfill.”
Felt and Rom exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of guilt and mild protest. Felt, ever the defiant one, was the first to speak up.
“C’mon, Boss, it’s not like we meant to trash the place.” She said, scratching the back of her head. “It just kinda…happened, y’know? We got busy with stuff, and-"
“Felt.” I stared at her, “Grab a broom and clean or I’m banning you from drinking milk.”
Felt’s eyes widened in horror, as if I had just threatened to take away her very reason for living. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Try me.” I said flatly, crossing my arms. “You think I’m joking? Clean. Now. Or I’ll make sure every drop of milk in this city mysteriously disappears whenever you’re around.”
She knew I was being serious. I had both Karsten and Astrea on my side, and Astrea just by himself would be enough to embargo Felt from any milk she could try and find.
It seemed that while I was talking, Rom had gotten the unspoken message and had already started to clean. Good. I didn't have to threaten his booze.
He scratched his beard and sighed, bending down to pick up a broken piece of wood. “Guess we’ve been a bit careless.” He admitted, "But hey, it’s not like we’re the only ones to blame. You’ve been gone so much, Hikigaya, place kinda lost its vibe."
“Don’t try to shift the blame.” I snapped, though his words did sting a little. “I trusted you two to take care of things while I was busy. Clearly, that was a mistake.”
Felt, now armed with the broom, started half-heartedly sweeping the floor, sending dust and debris flying in every direction. “Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re the responsible one, and we’re the messy freeloaders. But you know what? Maybe if you were around more often, we wouldn’t have let it get this bad.”
I opened my mouth to retort but stopped myself. As much as I hated to admit it, she had a point. I had been absent lately, buried in my own projects. And, as annoyed and pissed as I was with them, at the end of the day, I shouldn't have thought they'd be any different from how they always were.
Specifically, I shouldn't have expected two people who'd lived their lives basically on the streets to keep to the modern cleanliness standards that I lived by. Not when I hadn’t actually told them to do so. Time to rectify that, I suppose.
“Fine.” I said, relenting slightly, “Maybe I haven’t been around as much as I should’ve. But that doesn’t mean you two get a free pass to live like animals. Starting today, we’re setting some ground rules.”
Felt groaned, leaning on the broom like it was the only thing keeping her upright, “Rules? Seriously? What are you, my dad now?”
“If I have to be, then yes.” I shot back. “First rule: no more leaving trash everywhere. If you make a mess, you clean it up. Immediately. Second rule: no breaking furniture. If something’s broken, you fix it or replace it. Third rule: no more drinking during work hours. I swear, I've caught you two drinking before I'm even awake. You're free to drink in the evening, but moderate it.”
I paused, letting the rules sink in. Felt looked like she was about to protest, but a sharp glare from me shut her up. Rom, on the other hand, nodded solemnly, as if he were taking some kind of sacred oath. At least one of them was taking this seriously.
“And finally,” I continued, “Rule number four: if I come back and find this place in anything less than spotless condition, there will be consequences. Got it?”
Felt rolled her eyes but nodded, “No mess, no broken stuff, no day drinking. Anything else, Dad?”
I ignored the jab and grabbed a dustpan, handing it to her. “Good. Now get to work. And don’t think I’m not helping. I’ll be right here, making sure you two don’t cut corners.”
As Felt and Rom reluctantly got to work, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. Sure, my shop was a disaster, and it was going to take hours, if not days, to get it back in shape. But at least I was finally taking control of the situation. And who knows? Maybe this would be the wake-up call we all needed to get our act together.
Or, more likely, Felt would find some way to weasel out of cleaning, Rom would accidentally break something else, and I’d be back to square one by tomorrow. But hey, a guy can dream, right?
…
The next few hours were a blur of sweeping, scrubbing, and occasional bickering. Felt, true to form, tried to sneak out no less than three times, each time with increasingly creative excuses. (“I think I heard someone calling for help outside!”, “I need to… uh… water the plants!”, “I’m pretty sure I left my dignity in the alley, gotta go find it!”) Each time, I dragged her back in and handed her a new task.
Needless to say, she was not happy.
Rom, to his credit, was putting in genuine effort. He even managed to fix one of the broken stools, though it now wobbled precariously and looked like it had been put together by a drunk carpenter. Still, progress was progress.
By the time the sun began to set, the shop was...well, not perfect, but at least livable. The floor was clean, the trash was gone, and the smell of puke had been replaced by the faint scent of soap. It was a start.
“Alright.” I said, surveying the room with a critical eye, “Not bad. Not great, but not bad.”
Felt collapsed onto the newly cleaned floor, groaning dramatically, “I’m exhausted. This is inhumane. I demand compensation.”
“Compensation?” I raised an eyebrow, “How about I compensate you by not kicking you out for turning my shop into a dump?”
She stuck her tongue out at me but didn’t argue further. Rom, meanwhile, was already rummaging through the cabinets, presumably looking for something to drink. I decided to let it slide, he’d earned it.
As I sat down on the newly repaired stool (carefully, so as not to test its structural integrity), I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of vertigo. The more I looked around, the more that vertigo roiled in my stomach.
It wasn't even that bad, to be honest. Just a feeling of being in a place after being gone for so long. I've spent a lot of time with these two, which only highlighted the time I spent not with them.
…Fuck it.
“Oi, I’m heading out to get some food. You two want anything? My treat.”
You could hear a pin drop as both Felt and Rom froze in place. It only lasted for a second before Felt was on me, frantically looking me over.
“Boss, are you sure you’re feeling alright?!” She was in the process of trying to take my temperature when I pushed her off, “You didn’t hit your head too hard, did you?!”
“She’s right, Hikigaya.” Rom nodded sagely, a fierce scowl of worry on his face, “If you’re injured, we can take you over to the Sword Saint to get it checked out.”
“Oi, oi, I’m feeling fine, seriously.” My brow twitched as neither of them seemed convinced, “Fine, forget it.” I said, throwing my hands up in exasperation, “I was just trying to be nice, but if you two are going to act like I’ve lost my mind, then I’ll just go by myself.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Felt scrambled to her feet, her exhaustion seemingly forgotten, “I didn’t say no! I just said you were acting weird! Which you are! But if you’re offering food, I’m not gonna turn it down. Right, Old Man?”
Rom, who had already abandoned his search for a drink, nodded vigorously, “Aye, food sounds good. But…you’re really paying, Hikigaya? No catch?”
I sighed, rubbing my temples, “No catch. Consider it a reward for actually cleaning up. But if you keep questioning me, I might change my mind.”
That shut them up. Felt immediately started rattling off a list of foods she wanted, while Rom chimed in with his own suggestions. I let them argue for a bit before finally cutting in.
“Alright, alright, we’ll get something for everyone. But we’re not going to that overpriced place by the market. I’m not made of money, you know.”
Felt pouted but didn’t argue. Rom just shrugged, clearly happy as long as there was food involved. With that settled, we headed out, leaving the newly cleaned shop behind.
…Dammit, I really am starting to get too attached to this place, huh?
…
The food at the local pub was good, all things considered. My wallet would take a bit of a hit with how much Rom ate, but it wasn’t the end of the world.
We ate as we normally did, me making the occasional comment towards the two’s spirited exclamations that were often joined by the rest of the customers. Apparently, the two were semi-regulars that a lot of people here already knew.
I made myself scarce, letting them enjoy the atmosphere. I knew I’d only bring down the mood if I messed with them any further. After all, while I had been pissed at the mess they’d made, they were still very good at what I pay them to do.
Hm? What use could I have for these two, you may ask?
Well, they might technically be criminals. And I do need an in with the criminal underworld if I wanted to keep my info broker status up. Of course, I’m not saying that that’s what they’re hired for. Rom’s just there to help with the heavy lifting, and Felt’s just part of the package deal.
Nothing more, nothing less.
“Ah, Hikigaya-san!” I was suddenly painfully aware that the pub had gone silent. Red hair and a white suit.
“Astrea.” I gave him a nod as he made his way over towards us. Yeah, I was expecting him to try and find me, all things considered. It was already a bit later than I had thought though, and in public too.
“I apologize for not checking up on you earlier, I was called in by the Council before I could.” Oi, stop bowing your head, I can see Felt’s face get redder and redder the more she looks at the two of us. I’m not into dudes and I really don’t want an Ebina-moment to happen right here.
“Cut to the chase, what do you want, Astrea?” I rolled my eyes at the small gasps of shock at how I talked to the Sword Saint. Said redhead got up from his bow and started to look around the pub with a smile.
“I suppose this is a good spot as any.” He nodded to himself, before putting a hand to his chest in a salute, “Hachiman Hikigaya, the Council of Lugunica would like to officially thank you for assistance in the Subjugation of the White Whale, as led by the Karsten and Emilia camps. You are hereby formally invited to the awarding ceremony to be held in two days time.”
If I wasn’t a calm and reasonable human being, my cup in my hand would have been thrown right at Astrea.
“...Karsten put you up to this, didn’t she?”
“Duchess Karsten recommended I invite you in a public setting so that you are pressured to accept, yes.” That he said that with such a straight face was indicative that he felt the same, the bastard.
“Sword Saint-sama, is it true?” One of the bystanders approached Astrea carefully, “The White Whale is dead?”
“Yes. Through a show of force by Duchess Crusch Karsten, Lady Emilia, and the assistance of Hachiman Hikigaya, the White Whale has been slain.”
The pub took a moment to register his words, before erupting into wild cheers. Loud enough that it wouldn’t be out of place in a metal concert.
Fuck’s sake, I just wanted dinner!
…
