— Радий тебе бачити, Ямадзакі.
Я розплющив очі. Наді мною простягалося чисте небо, і м'який, теплий вітер торкався моєї шкіри. Біль повністю зник — залишилося тільки тепло і тиша.
Це було так добре... ніби я щойно народилася заново.
Я повільно сів і побачив, що переді мною стоїть біловолосий хлопчик. Його глибокі чорні очі пильно стежили за мною, а усмішка застигла — справжня... А може, підробка?
— Хто ти такий? — спитав я.
Він підійшов ближче і подав руку. Я нерішуче простягнув руку і зробив те саме. Він без зусиль підняв мене на ноги.
Я оглянув його уважніше. Його одяг являв собою суміш чорного і сірого: темна сорочка, сірі джинси, чорний пояс. Срібний браслет з білими каменями прикрашав його праве зап'ястя.
Його нігті були пофарбовані в чорний колір, а на середньому пальці було татуювання — колючки, що спірально обвивалися навколо стебла троянди.
«Я твій рятівник, мій юний друже».
— Спаситель?
— Саме так. Вам не боляче, чи не так? Відчуваєте спокій?»
— Мабуть... Авжеж.
Він обернувся і пішов до маленького круглого столика неподалік.
— Сідайте, будь ласка, — сказав він, кивнувши на порожнє крісло.
Я підійшов і помітив на столі дві чашки чаю, а також тарілки з тортом і печивом.
«Не хвилюйтеся, їжа безпечна».
Я сів. Він додав мені в чай два кубики цукру.
«Як ви дізналися, скільки цукру я приймаю?»
"Я знаю про вас все. Твій день народження. Ваше перше слово. Улюблена їжа... навіть у той день, коли ти помер».
"Помер?.." Я схопився і грюкнув руками по столу. — Про що ти говориш?
"Розслабтеся. Сідай і пий чай — він тебе заспокоїть, — сказав він спокійним голосом.
Я підняв чашку, хоча моя рука тремтіла. Щось усередині мене пручалося зробити ковток. Боятися.
"Чого ти боїшся? Я тобі не ворог. Якби я хотів заподіяти тобі шкоду, ти вже був би мертвий».
Я підніс чашку до губ і випив все за один раз.
Він усміхнувся.
"Ви померли хвилину тому. Зупинка серця. Мені шкода. Ось чому я пропоную вам другий шанс».
— Чого ти мене шкодуєш?
— Ти справді не розумієш... З дитинства ти не знав щастя. Тебе ненавиділи всі — твої батьки, однокласники. Ти був справжнім ізгоєм».
— Це неправда! — крикнув я.
"Ви втекли від реальності через ігри, потрапили в борги, ховалися від колекторів... Це було твоє щастя?»
Я не помітив сльози, поки вона не впала на стіл. Тільки тоді я зрозуміла, що плачу.
"Ви сказали, що не страждали. То чого ти плачеш?» — тихо запитав він, простягаючи мені хустинку.
"Life is unfair—or rather, people are—but I'm ready to change everything."
"And how will you change my life?"
His eyes flashed. He stood and stepped close.
"It's simple. You'll become someone new. My hero. The one who saves me… and this world. You'll find true love. You'll never be alone again."
"I'd be glad to help… but are you sure a sixteen-year-old student can do this?" I scratched my head doubtfully.
"Of course. Only you can complete this mission," he replied firmly.
"And don't worry—I won't abandon you in a foreign world." He paused, sat down thoughtfully.
"Ah! How could I forget about the Pact?"
A black parchment appeared out of thin air beside him. He scanned it briefly and tossed it over his shoulder.
"I'll give you a second life—with a fragment of my mana. In return, you'll gather twenty elemental spheres. Simple, right?"
"I guess, but—"
"No 'buts'," he interrupted.
"I'll be by your side. I'll protect you. Share my mana. Fulfill your requests. Isn't that enough?"
"Alright…" I sighed. "But just one question, if I may."
He nodded. I looked up.
Silence. Heavy, uneasy silence. It lasted a few seconds, then broke with my voice. I couldn't hold back. Tears streamed down my face.
"I promise—I'll do everything to make you smile, not cry. You'll have real friends. People will call you a hero."
I wiped my tears with a sleeve and looked up. His face still held that cold mask. No sorrow, no joy. Just calm.
"If you're ready, sign your name. In blood."
He slid the contract toward me along with a needle.
I pricked my finger and pressed it against the parchment. It flared and dissolved in a burst of flame.
"Thank you, hero!" he said, smiling sincerely for the first time.
Then—splash! He threw his cup of tea in my face.
"AAAH! Are you insane?!" I shouted, wiping my eyes. "Is this how you treat heroes?!"
I wiped the last of the liquid from my eyes—only to find myself standing in the middle of a bustling plaza. A market.
"Is this the new world? Strange… looks a lot like old Europe."
Stone and timber buildings surrounded me. Tiled rooftops. Colorful fabrics fluttered in the wind.
People passed by in rough linen and wool clothing, mostly in muted colors.
The cobblestone underfoot creaked. Wooden stalls stretched out on both sides.
"Fresh fish! Straight from the port!" shouted someone on the right.
"Cheap crystals! One crystal for two gothins!" called another from the left.
I stood like a phantom among them. People walked around me. A few cast wary glances, but most were absorbed in their own business.
"I need to focus and form a plan."
Voices rang out. Children laughed. Wagon wheels creaked.
"This city's lively—for something medieval."
"Hey, young man! Want to buy some fruit?" called a merchant.
"I… I understand him? But how do I respond?"
"You're talking to me?" I asked, a bit unsure.
"Who else? Your clothes aren't local—they probably cost more than the whole town!" He laughed.
I glanced down. I wore ordinary clothes: black jeans, a white t-shirt with a stain, a black windbreaker… with snot dried on the sleeve.
"I've got the cleanest apples in Bartaz! You won't regret it."
"I'd love to… but there's one problem." I scratched the back of my head.
"What is it?"
"I have no money."
The merchant frowned.
"No money?.. Then why are you here?"
"I'm… from another kingdom. I don't have your currency. But here…" I pulled a 100-yen coin from my pocket.
He examined it, then burst out laughing.
"And how many gothins is this worth?" he asked, trying to suppress the laughter.
"One hundred!" I replied.
He laughed even harder. Passersby started staring.
"Hey, Roosevelt, what's going on?" someone behind me asked.
"This kid says his coin's worth a hundred gothins!"
"A hundred? Ha! I wouldn't pay ten for that!" said another merchant.
"In my kingdom—"
"Doesn't matter where you're from. This is Tsyushin. Different laws, different money. If you want to survive, learn them. Got it?"
"Got it… But maybe just one apple?" I pointed to the crate.
"One apple—one gothin."
"And for my coin… nothing?"
"Maybe a slap. That's all it's worth here. No money—go, before you embarrass yourself."
I quietly thanked him and hurried away. Glancing around, I tried to assess the situation.
"Not good. I'm hungry. Exhausted. Maybe six hours until nightfall. I need to find some money… fast."
Suddenly—a child's scream. High-pitched. Agonizing.
I ran toward the sound.
Up ahead, a crowd had gathered.In the center—A little girl, sobbing.
"What happened?" I asked a nearby woman.
"She got robbed," she replied. "Someone snatched her coin pouch. It's probably the Pouch Thief again."
"The Pouch Thief?"
"He's been mugging people for three months now," chimed in another. "No one's been able to catch him."
"There's a bounty on his head—one Youngling."
"Youngling...? How much is that in gothins?"
"A thousand, kid. One thousand gothins."
"One thousand gothins sounds like a lot… But if the guards haven't caught him in three months, what makes me think I can?"
"Thanks," I muttered and ran in the opposite direction.
I rushed toward the town hall, towering above the square.
I needed information. A lead. Anything.
Two guards stood at the entrance.
Not armored knights like in video games.
Their faces were half-covered with white masks.
They wore white mantles with cloaks, white trousers, and black belts adorned with a crest.
"Excuse me, may I enter? I need to speak with the mayor. It's important."
"The mayor isn't here. He'll return tomorrow. Mistress Cecilia ordered that no one be let in, even with invitations," said one of the guards.
"But what if it's about the Pouch Thief? I have a plan—"
"Beat it, before I throw you in a cell!" he growled.
I turned and walked away.
"Strange... If the Pouch Thief's such a big problem, why don't they care about my offer? Either bureaucracy—or something fishy's going on."
I wandered through the alleys, examining market stalls and scanning people's faces.
Locals cast sideways glances.
My clothes stood out—too clean. Too different.
"If I were the Pouch Thief... where would I hide?"
My eyes landed on a narrow alley leading to the poorer part of town.
The buildings there were crooked. Some had no windows.
Some rooftops were just patched fabric.
A drunk man lay sprawled across the street. I stepped around him and approached a grimy river.
Murky water carried scraps of paper, twigs, trash.
I decided to cross a bridge.
As I placed my foot on the first plank, it creaked.
Still, I went on.
Halfway across, one board split in two.
I fell.
"No way. Am I going to die like this? You liar! You damn liar!"
But someone caught me.
I gasped and coughed.
"You alive?" asked a girl, about ten years old.
Short hair. Raspy voice.
"I think so... kh-kh... still breathing," I coughed out.
"What are you doing here? Dressed like a rich boy—before you fell in, that is. Guys like you don't show up without a reason."
"I'm looking for… the Pouch Thief."
"Ha, for real?" she snorted.
"I—"
"Two gothins," she cut me off.
"What? You're charging me for saving me?" I protested.
"Everything costs here. Even a smile. And I'm still hungry."
"Where the heck did you drop me, you lunatic?!"
"I don't have your currency, but I can offer mine."
"I don't carry local money… but here." I held out a 100 yen coin.
She took it, rolled it around in her hand.
"And how many gothins is this worth?"
"Three… It's quite valuable where I'm from, so take care of it."
She silently tucked the coin into her pouch.
"Fine. Just be more careful next time, or you'll drown like an idiot."
She waved and ran off toward the city center.
And there I was—soaked to the bone, with a coin worth less than a slap…
and a brush with the Pouch Thief that nearly got me killed.