At the Beginning, I Put a Green Hat on Verlaine
He transmigrated into the body of a sixteen-year-old boy.
Asou Akiya’s new parents were dead, he had no ties, no burdens, no way back; the original owner had left him nothing but a precarious foothold as the lowliest grunt in Yokohama’s most notorious port organization.
For an ordinary human without a single ability, simply staying alive was set to nightmare difficulty.
No golden finger from the heavens?
Then he would forge his own.
Four years later.
Destiny finally handed him its greatest turning point.
After a cataclysmic explosion rocked the city, Asou Akiya, with meticulous calculation and trembling hands, rescued a breathtaking French beauty who had lost all memory.
The man had been betrayed, abandoned, left fragile and shivering in the cold; yet beneath that porcelain vulnerability burned a soul of blinding brilliance and combat prowess that touched the very ceiling of this world.
“…Who… am I?”
“You are a romantic French poet, Rimbaud.”
“A poet?”
“Yes,” Akiya whispered, voice steady as scripture, “and you are the love of my life.”
From that moment, Asou Akiya placed him upon the apex of his heart and spoiled him rotten.
He soothed every wound with tenderness, watered the tender shoots of love with carefully tended lies, and watched them bloom.
So what if memory returned one day?
He had already seized the most priceless treasure in the world.
Thank you, Verlaine!
The partner you were willing to discard is now my wife.
【Asou Akiya × Rimbaud (French name: Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud)】
{Mon âme éternelle,
Observe ton voeu
Malgré la nuit seule
Et le jour en feu.}
O my eternal soul,
Hold fast to desire
In spite of the night
And the day on fire.
— From A Season in Hell, Rimbaud
