Days are average for Nagi Clover. Living in a world dominated by those called the Enlightened, he's lucky to be capable of living as he is. Though it's not where he wants to be in life, he doesn't have any choice.
His Grandfather has been deathly ill with a sickness called Dungeon Lung due to increased exposure to dungeon crystals. Though non-fatal to the Enlightened, it is to a normal man like him. He used to be a porter, and was for a good portion of his life, but it came to bite him back like this.
Right now, Nagi was feeding his father some potato-beef stew, blowing on the piping-hot spoonful, ready to let him enjoy it. His grandfather lay in bed, head turned away, like he couldn't bear to look his grandson in the eyes.
"Gramps... sit up, you got to eat," Nagi said in a melancholic tone.
"Not hungry." He bit back.
Nagi sighed, setting down the warm bowl to the side. He stood up now, walking to get something. When he came back into the room, he had a wheelchair and a smile on his face.
"No." His grandfather said before Nagi could even open his mouth.
"Yes. We're going outside. Right now."
Nagi went over, picking his frail, light-weight grandfather up and quickly sat him down in the wheelchair. His grandfather mumbled and groaned under his breath, not saying anything worth mentioning. The two were now outside. Nagi wheeled his grandfather around, seeing the beautiful outdoor scenery and the many acres of farmland his grandfather and now Nagi himself had been cultivating. The sun was out, but it wasn't too hot, and the rain had come earlier, but it wasn't too humid; today felt just right.
Nagi continued to wheel his Grandfather around, whether in silence or whistling, his grandfather's grumbling soon ceased. Just then, his grandfather began coughing. Far worse than any normal cough, it sounded like he was coughing up his own lungs.
Nagi kneeled next to him now, patting his back and giving him some water. He had given him his medicine much earlier, but it seemed like nothing was working, regardless of what he did. He bit his cheek, angry at nothing and something at the same time.
"I'm sorry, Gramps," Nagi began to tear up as he held his grandfather's hand now. "I'm sorry I can't do anything at all..." A single tear is dropping now.
Nagi never knew his parents. All he has are two old photos and aged stories from his grandfather. He heard they were good people, but all he could wonder was where they were. How could they abandon him? From a young age, he bore a grudge against people he had never met in his life.
After getting a glimpse of his tear-stricken face, his grandfather turned in the wheelchair, as if hiding his own face. Nagi looked up, wondering if something was wrong. Only to see his grandfather shaking, not from the wind or a cold, but from emotion. His grandfather cried himself.
"You're too good to me. I try so hard to push you away. To get you away from his damned place... yet you never leave."
"Gramps.. what are you-"
"Shut up. Let the elder talk, boy. You're young. You're my only known family left. I can't bear to see you wasting your life on some farm. I know about your dreams... your admirations. You want to become one of those Slayer bastards... I know. Yet you remain here." He said, wiping his tears now.
Nagi just lowered his gaze, finding far too much truth in his grandfather's words. He knew his grandfather wanted him to leave, and he himself did too.
"What if I'm useless? What if I try to become Enlightened... and become a trash talent? It's too much of a gamble. I would rather spend my days here... with you."
"Don't give me that. We all know I'm nearing my end of the road. I wouldn't have blamed you if you put me in a retirement home sooner. I'm just upset at you... for being too good to this old man."
After this intense conversation, the two sat in silence. Both of them are looking at nothing and something at the same time. Nagi then smiled a bit at nothing.
"I see you as my father, Gramps."
"W-What are you even..."
"I know you might find it weird. But I really do. When I picture the man I want to be. I picture you. That spot should be reserved for a father, and yet... my mind always goes to you. Besides, I don't know my real father anyway."
"I've told you already... your father is a good man, he's just..."
"Forget it. I've heard that too many times to count. If he were truly good... he would be here right now. With his dying father, and with his son."
--
Later in the day. Nagi had now taken his grandfather back inside. Just a moment earlier, he had given him his second dose of medicine and pills. As Nagi now lay him in the soft bed, he felt himself being pulled back slightly by his grandfather.
He turned around, looking in his eyes. They seemed to be getting duller, less full of life, even by the hour. Just 2 months ago, he was still working with him on the farm on both legs; now, his grandfather was too weak to even leave his bed on his own.
"We don't have much," His grandfather said in simple form, "And when I die... there's not much I can even hand off to you because we're poor. So, this land... and that shed out back, that I keep all my hidden-away porter equipment at, it's all yours." He spoke like it was his final.
"Gramps... stop talking like that. You still have beautiful days ahead. Get some rest." Nagi shut it down, turning off the lamp nearby and putting the covers over his grandfather. As he left the room, he heard soft, distant coughs. He stood by the door for a few more minutes until he heard it stop, and peeked back in to see he was falling asleep.
With a deep sigh, he went back to cultivate the farm a bit more until the sun left the sky and the moon took its place.
***
'My grandfather.... is dead.'
Ayano Breth Clover, Nagi's grandfather, passed away in his sleep.