Housemate #3
The door shrieked in delight, welcoming them home.
Finally, he thought. He stumbled into the apartment. His neck ached, the same with his back and shoulder. His belt felt too tight, and his butt itches something fierce.
What a day, he thought.
He took off the gas mask and heaved a content sigh. Home, at last.
Today felt longer than it should have. First, the bank, then the mall, the train… and the email. It was much more excitement than he used to; he gives it that.
The lights turned on as they entered. Had the motion sensor broken when they were gone, he would have lost it. He wanted a hot bath and to sleep for ten hours straight, but unfortunately, he had no choice but to wait. Sunday was the day after tomorrow.
"Ugh, I'm exhausted." Keno moaned.
He hummed in agreement.
"You wanna go in the bathroom first or…" He asked. Hoping she would let him go first. His bladder was about to explode.
"You can go first. I just want to sit down. My feet are killing me."
He zipped into the bathroom, slammed the door behind him, and released all that he had held inside for hours now into the shower.
It felt so good that his gums tingled.
He turned on the showerhead for a few seconds and watched as the water drained away. With a wet cloth, he wiped every exposed part of himself and then threw some water on his face.
It was not the hot water from a bathhouse, but it would suffice for now.
Refreshed, he finally took a breather. It was nice to be home. However, when his breath caught up to him, so was his hunger. His stomach grumbled and his mind immediately popped up an image of a tube of nutrient pastes, but it blanked out on what Keno would have wanted. She did not like the pastes, and the noodles he bought were the cheapest kind. Filling, but not very nutritious. The opposite of what the doctor asked.
Maybe he should have bought dinner outside.
That thought startled him.
Why did he care so much about her when he only ever did the bare minimum for himself?
Oh, it was Touch-Me's influence; he thought.
Would Touch-Me go so far?
Would Suzuki Satoru?
Maybe.
He already went this far. A little more wouldn't hurt, much. And besides, she might do the same for him
. Free lunches are in his near future. He chuckled a little as he opened the bathroom door.
"What so funny?" Keno asked, with clothes and towel in hand, waiting for him outside.
"Just something random."
She stared at him for a second. "Weirdo." She said. She walked inside with a huff, and then shut herself behind the bathroom door.
Honestly, this girl.
But he felt somewhat relieved. He was glad she was returning to the same audacious girl he met this Tuesday. The sight of her, sitting in the dark, crying because of who knows what would be something he never wanted to see again.
He wanted to cheer her up since she was about to meet Wazaki. He remembered Peroroncino once said whenever a girl was feeling down, treat her to some food. Didn't know what else to do, he made a gamble, and it paid off. She was now back to her old self.
For once, Peroroncino gave solid advice. The sky should come crashing down any minute now; he chuckled.
His stomach grumbled again. Right, right, I'm on it. Don't be so impatient.
He looked inside the fridge. He still has fourteen bottles of water, three tubes of pastes, two packets of more pastes, which he forgot were there, and… that's it. It was a sad state of affairs, but at least he can stall grocery shopping until next week.
What about Keno then? What would she eat?
He checked the cabinets. Only three cups of ramen left, just enough for today and tomorrow. Just what he wanted, more expenditures, and right when he lost his bonus, too.
He put down a reminder in his phone to buy groceries this Sunday, and then took one ramen cup from the cabinet and tore out its packaging. He also took one bottle of water out of the fridge and poured more than half of it into the kettle. The thirteen bottles would last him for another week, but with Keno living here, who knows how long it would last? Should he invest in a better water filter, one capable of making drinkable water straight from the tap?
Bottled water just got more expensive lately, so that might be a decent investment in the long run. But would it be worth it for just one person? That led to another question: how long will Keno stay? If it was only a month or two, then it wouldn't be unnecessary. He would just whether the cost himself. Longer than that, and it might be worth it.
But how long is "longer"? A year? Two? Foreve-
No, definitely not that long. And that mostly depended on her own decision. She might want to leave as soon as possible, or she might want to stay awhile; her choice, really.
He hoped it was the latter. Two people sharing rent meant at the end of the month, they both would have more money left over, a win-win.
And he didn't want to admit this out loud, but it was nice to have someone to talk to on the way home. It was strange to slow down his steps and be more conscious of where he was, to be conscious of where she was. But he did not dislike it, strangely enough. And just airing his grievances of Wazaki to someone else made him feel… light, liberating, even.
Maybe they could still do that if her new place was close by.
He heard flushing. Uh oh, he forgot to warn her. He rushed to the bathroom and started knocking on the door.
"Hey, did you just go number one or number two?"
"…What?"
"I said: did you just go number one or number two?"
"What?"
"I said-"
"I heard you the first time! Why do you need to know?"
He could hear her teeth grinding together with each word stressed.
"I asked because each flush is a hundred yen, so don't flush unless you really need to!"
"What am I supposed to do, then?"
"You can go number one in the shower. Just remember to turn on the shower head to wash it away after you're done."
"Fine! Now go away! Please!" She pleaded behind the door.
With his warning made, he returned to the kitchen and took out one packet of paste, ripped open it along the line printed on the packaging, and started sucking.
Blegh! The closer they were to the expiration date, the worse they tasted.
After he finished his, albeit quite gross, meal, he took out from the cabinets the vitamins and supplements he needed, and also the ones that Keno needed, too.
He downed them alongside the rest of the water he set aside before. The bitterness of the pills and tablets was something he had grown accustomed to long ago. Everyone who lived outside the dome needed these things from the day they were born after all.
But inside the dome, he wasn't sure. It was hard to differentiate the facts from the rumours and the garbage the press pumped out. He heard and read all kinds of wild stuff, like inside the dome there was a miniature sun, so they didn't need vitamin D supplements, or there were dinosaurs kept as pets, or they even had fake weather with fake rain and fake snow.
It was as if the rich were living in a fantasy land like Yggdrasil or something. If you were going to make up something, make sure it is believable at least.
In the middle of his musing, footsteps echoed. It seemed Keno was done in the bathroom.
She walked into the kitchen, and he tried desperately to ignore the mocking ghost of his teenage self in the ridiculous clothes she was wearing.
Her face was as red as a stop sign, from anger or from embarrassment, he did not know. And he was afraid he would find out soon enough.
"Next time, wait for me to finish and then tell me. Do you want to wake the dead with all of your yelling?" She said, grinding her teeth once more.
A mix of both, then.
"Sorry, but water is expensive. I only go number two twice a week for that reason."
"Fine, fine, I get it, save water, don't need to say anything more." She said. Her face filled with disgust. She then moved to sit at the table. "Ugh, why can't you just act like earlier all the time?" She grumbled under her breath. Well, not quite under her breath, he supposed.
Silence passed between them, an awkward one. Again.
A moment later, the kettle screamed.
He moved to pour the boiling water into the cup of ramen and passed it to her. She accepted it without problems. He watched her eat. A question suddenly popped up: where did she live before?
She was born in Tokyo. He could glean as much from her ID. But where exactly? She spoke the Yamanote dialect, similar to Touch-Me, so she should be from one of the richer districts closer to the dome. He heard from Touch-Me that there was a crackdown on prostitution in the Third recently, so could Keno be an escapee from there?
"What are you staring at me for?" She asked.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't know I was staring."
He hesitated to ask what he was thinking of, but he was curious. "And… uh, where did you live before?"
"Why do you need to know?" Her eyes narrowed, and her hand clenched the plastic fork ever so slightly.
"Just curious. A place that doesn't charge money for flushing is a place I wanted to move into immediately." He said, half-joked.
"If I say I don't want to talk about it, would you ask any more questions?" Her voice held a tinge of anger.
It seemed he touched a sore spot. "No. Sorry."
"It's fine." She returned to eating. Her mood dropped. Better not talk about this again.
Though it only strengthened his curiosity. A place where water bills were second thought would be heaven. But when he remembered why water cost so much, he no longer wanted to find out. The water here was only almost drinkable, but it already put a sizable dent in his budget.
He shuddered at the thought of having grey or even black water flowing down his body. He wouldn't even dare to imagine the smell, afraid it would cost him his lunch, and also dinner.
It was no wonder she did not want to talk about it. Though., he still felt bad reminding her.
He should treat her to more food tomorrow, as an apology. But now, he should probably get out of her hair.
"The meds I left on the counter. I already sort it out for you." He said and then left. When he passed by her, he placed a hand on her shoulder. It felt warm, as warm as earlier, with her outburst at the police station. "And, again, sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
With that, he left the kitchen, and he could only hope he did not make her as upset as this morning.
He returned to his room. The lights turned on, but with a clap of his hands, it turned off again. The room embraced him in its cold, dark touch. Inside was still the same sight he had seen every day for the last twenty or more years, yet it felt so empty.
He sat in the usual spot, plugged the internet cable into the port behind his head with practised ease, and put on the same helmet he used for the last twelve years. The moment he put it on, a bunch of ads assaulted his eyes. Ads for a new helmet, ads for new games, even an ad for Christmas sales. It was only halfway through November.
The Christmas ad almost burned his retina with its bright red colour. Red… Aka… Akaishi. Her family name felt… familiar. Where did he see it before?
He can ponder about it later. Yggdrasil awaits.
He logged on. The view before him was a familiar one. A titanic table, carved from gleaming black stone, surrounded by forty luxurious chairs, forty-one if including the one he was sitting on.
Most of the seats were empty. He waited. Ten minutes. Then fifteen minutes. Then, half an hour later, someone materialized in the chair directly across from him.
That someone was a birdman. His feathered wings fluttered softly and slightly behind his back. His face was shielded by a golden mask. A pair of golden gauntlets covered the talons he had for hand, though it only made them more sharp, more deadly. Peroroncino logged on.
"Hey Momonga, how it's going?"
"Same as usual. Is Bukubukuchagama not coming today?"
"Yeah, sis was held back for another re-recording session and wouldn't be able to go home until after midnight. She told me to go back first and sleep without waiting for her. Though I suppose I should go to her studio after this and pick her up, just in case."
"How is she?"
"As feisty as ever. And her punch was as painful as ever, too." Peroroncino said that with a laugh.
"Are you sure you shouldn't check up on her now? Instead of logging on Yggdrasil?"
"Nah. If I go to her studio now, all I can do is wait, anyway. Better to wait somewhere with friends, ay, leader?"
"Friend, more like. There would only be me here today."
"Is Ulbert not going to show?"
"Ulbert sent me an email earlier, saying he wanted to talk. I think he planned to quit the game."
"That's sucks."
"He was forced to do so much overtime lately. It's no wonder."
"Yeah, poor guy. You didn't know this since you weren't online this Monday, but Ulbert was AFK'd for quite some time during the raid, and his voice sounded super tired before that. I was afraid he had collapsed. Luckily, the dude had just fallen asleep. How did he manage that during a raid with loud sounds and flashing lights? I had no clue. But it was clear he was exhausted. Almost cost us the raid, but Touch-Me didn't scold him or anything."
"It was that bad, huh?"
"I supposed. But enough about that. How about we start today with a two-person raid on ol' Fafnir?"
"I would like that."
Peroroncino wouldn't know this, but he was smiling under his helmet.
And so, together, they prepped their gears and began their assault on Fafnir's lair.
The black dragon's drops weren't good per se, but it wasn't bad either. Most only fought it for the literal mountain of gold it left behind. But besides the gold, the other thing it drops is a heart. An ingredient to make some good buff for rangers, such as Peroroncino, but to a magic caster like Momonga, as well as being undead and cannot consume food buff, it was quite useless.
But if it makes his guildmates happy, he would do any amount of useless stuff for them.
The fight was neither long nor short. However, during the whole raid, Peroroncino seemed distracted. He didn't talk as much as usual and he hesitated on multiple occasions. The intervals between his arrows were longer and longer as the fight went on. It was as if he was checking something between each shot. The clock in the corner of his vision, Momonga guessed. It seemed he was more worried about his sister than he had shown.
Momonga would regret this later, but Bukubukuchagama was more important.
"You should log off, Peroroncino. Go check up on Bukubukuchagama."
"Wha-? Are you sure, guild leader?"
Distracted, again. But the blame was fully on Momonga. As the guild leader, he should have chosen a shorter raid.
"I'll be fine. We are done here anyway. I only need to put the gold into the treasury and I would log off, too."
There was a silence. Peroroncino was weighing his options. "If you say so. Bye, Momonga." He said, with both reluctance and relief at the same time.
Momonga put up a waving emote, and Peroroncino teleported back to the guild base by himself.
Now alone, he quickly finished grabbing all the gold and gems around the lair and teleported back to the base as well. Even with the declined player base, Yggdrasil was no less dangerous than before.
When he was safely inside the walls of Nazarick, he moved on to the treasury. Peroroncino had already logged off some time ago.
Momonga then went over all the security procedures and entered. The treasury greeted him with its silence.
He dumped all the coins he got from Fafnir into the treasury. The sound of coins clinking with each other echoed in the half-empty chamber. As he continued dumping the gold, he looked around. Over there, near the chair, he remembered Flatfoot and Amanomahitotsu stood arguing about some metal ingot. And there, to the left of the gold pile was where Tabula Smaragdina and Touch-Me's heated debate about "Gap Moe". And he remembered the celebration of the day they stored loot in here as a formal guild. It was the most fun he ever had.
As he continued to look around and remembered, he realized that Pandora's Actor was watching him. His player tracking must have been triggered somehow. He stood there, watching, as silence as the mausoleum further inside. It occurred to Momonga that Pandora's Actor was the only NPC in this part of the base.
Do you ever feel as alone as I am? He wondered.
When he was done dumping the loot, he noticed the mountain of gold grew slightly larger than before. But he felt no joy watching it grow. It used to, but knowing what was to come, he felt nothing but dread. Maybe he should have asked Peroroncino to stay.
No, Bukubukuchagama's safety comes first, he scolded himself.
And Ulbert didn't want anyone else to join in their conversation. He stated as much in the email.
He teleported back to the Round Table room. Usually, this is where he would log off on most days. But Ulbert told him to wait, so he did.
In the meantime, he couldn't help but lament the state the guild was in.
Less than half of Ainz Ooal Gown still played the game. Some chairs in here hadn't been sat on for years. And with the remaining members, fewer logged on more than once a week. This Monday was the first time in months that everyone still active could unanimously log on at once. Even Ulbert was there.
Weeks of planning and rescheduling, and he missed it.
Part of him resented Keno for that. Another part of him resented himself for blaming her. It was not her fault. She did not choose to collapse in the street.
If his guildmates were there, they would have told him to do as he did. She was the innocent in this; he reminded himself.
He sat at the table and waited. With nothing to do, he read the event pages, then the dev logs, then the newsletter, and then when he ran out of things to read, he reread the event pages again. Over, and over, and over again, he read them. Until it was almost midnight, Ulbert logged on.
"Ah, Momonga, my dear friend, how nice is it to see you again." The fake cheerfulness was clear in his tired voice.
"Hello, Ulbert… how are you?"
"To be frank, quite exhausted. I still have another hundred hours of mandatory overtime left, and I don't doubt there will be more once I'm done. Maybe I shouldn't have badmouthed the manager so much." Ulbert laughed.
There were no emotions behind that laugh, only tiredness. Silence reigned for a moment.
Ulbert sighed.
"Guess I couldn't hide it from you eh, guildmaster? It was Peroroncino who told you wasn't it."
"Please, take care of yourself Ulbert."
"I really want to, my friend. And you must have realized why I asked you to wait for me this late don't you?"
"Please, you don't have to do this Ulbert. You don't need to delete your account. Just focus on your work for now, and return when things are settled."
"And when would that be? A year? Two years? When Yggdrasil shut down for good, perhaps? Let's face it Momonga, the game on its last leg."
"But that doesn't mean you have to quit it entirely! Just go on indefinite hiatus like Flatfoot, or Genjiro, or even Shizyuutensuzaku!"
"I know how much you wanted me to stay, Momonga. I truly do. But I also know that it would be unlikely for me to log on in the future. So here. Sell them for funds to strengthen Nazarick."
The armour and accessories that were on Ulbert's avatar disappeared one by one. Then, when all of it was off, a pop-up appeared on Momonga's screen. [Ulbert Alain Odle gifted you these items. Accept?]
He wanted to press [No]; he wanted to press on, to try again, this time more sincere, more persuasive. Ulbert would choose to stay if he just used his words better.
But Ulbert already made his choice long before this moment, wasn't he?
He now stood at a crossroads. His selfish wish for Ainz Ooal Gown to be whole again, to get back the family he never had. Or let them go, let them return to their responsibilities and the harsh reality they all shared. His skeletal finger hesitated on [Yes].
The choice was obvious. It should be obvious. He did the right thing by letting them go. Yet, it felt painful all the same. In life, you give until you have nothing left to give. That was the lesson his mother taught him when she collapsed out of exhaustion right before his eyes. Ulbert already has enough problems to sieve through. Momonga shouldn't add more to them. He must do what a good friend must do. [Yes], he chose.
"Thank you, guildmaster, for all you've done for us. Without you, there would not be an Ainz Ooal Gown at all. Who knows, maybe when Yggdrasil 2 comes out, we can meet once again, and rebuild everything better than now, even. But until then, thank you, Momonga, for the memories we shared. Good luck. And take care."
With that, Ulbert logged off.
Momonga stood there, unmoving, but Satoru curled into himself. Snot filled his nose. His throat felt tight, but his eyes remained dry. This was not the first time that they had left, nor it would be the last. He should not weep. Though he doubted he could. His eyes felt heavy, so he closed them.
When did he fall asleep? He wasn't sure. But when he woke up, he felt even more tired. The alarm clock buzzing felt grating to his ears. He wanted to smash it to pieces and go back to sleep. But the thought of Keno going to work alone, on her second day no less, and having to weather one of Wazaki's tantrums was the thing pulling him out of the futon.
He opened the curtain and felt his eyes burn as an assortment of bright lights assaulted it. He closed the curtain immediately.
Right, it was his apartment complex's turn to be a billboard. He forgot all about it because he didn't see them set up the projectors across the street yesterday.
Setting up everything in a single night, they sure worked fast.
"Aaahh!" He heard Keno scream, and after that, a thud of a body fell from a bed onto the floor.
It seemed Keno had just pulled the curtain open.
What a way to start the morning.
After that, they took turns in the bathroom again. She went first, and when she left, he noticed her eyes were red and baggy.
He really did mess up big time last night, didn't he? He should think of something to cheer her up with, and fast. And it seemed he needed to rely on Peroroncino's advice once again.
After he left the bathroom, he saw her sitting in the kitchen. She had already started boiling the water and a cup of ramen was opened, waiting with her for the kettle to do its job.
He turned the kettle off.
"What now?" She asked, more tired than angry.
"I think we should eat out today. Don't worry, it's my treat."
"What?"
"Consider it my apology. For yesterday. I truly didn't mean it."
She stood there, staring at him, confused, but after a few seconds, "Fine," she said.
Before they left, he covered the opened cup of ramen with a plastic bag and some rubber string. He shouldn't waste food, his voice echoed in his mind. Its distinctiveness was lost long ago.
And so, they donned their gas mask and goggles and left the house. The door bid them goodbye. Its screech was lost to him as he was lost in his thoughts.
Where would he take her out to eat? It was the question he was struggling with.
He was thinking about it so hard that he didn't realize that they had already broad the train. It was the feeling that he was squishing Keno into the wall of the train that he returned to reality.
"Sorry," He said.
"Better you than some pervert." She grumbled.
They were nearing their stop. He was running out of time. Then it came to him. It was a café near their office. He heard recommendations from a coworker before, something about it sold good omelettes for a cheap price.
A few moments later, they arrived.
"So, where is this place you are taking me to? And please, don't say you have forgotten about it."
"Don't worry, it was a place near the office, so it would only be a little further."
She stayed silent at that. This café had better be good, or else he would be screwed.
It took a few turns different from the normal path to work, and he thought he was lost for a second. But after another left turn, he found it.
It was a small café, sandwiched between an apartment complex and a relatively quite large appliance store. That reminded him he should buy a new one, or at least fix the old microwave he had at home. But that is for tomorrow.
Now, they walked inside the café through a glass door with a sensor that opened when they got close. Through the glass door was another set of doors, though they couldn't open it, not just yet. The door behind them sealed itself with a hiss, and then from above, a slight drizzle of misty water fell on them. The drizzle was a tiny thing, not enough to wet their clothes but enough to wash away a decent amount of pollutants that hung in the air when they came in. And when the drizzle stopped, the fan above blew, to dry them off and to blow away any pollutant still left in the air into the grate beneath them.
Unlike the industrial air filters of larger places, this system cannot completely clear away the residue of the smog outside, but for smaller establishments like this café, it would suffice.
And when the entire ordeal was done, a soft click was heard from the inside door, letting them know it was good to enter.
He opened the door and let Keno walk in first. The interior of the café was compact, with eight tables scattered around, each with four chairs and a counter with ten chairs at the back, where a barista, somewhere in her late teens stood and waved hello to them. Behind her was another door. To the kitchen, he wagered. But before they went to the counter and ordered something, he took off his mask and goggles and used his hand to comb his hair back into its rightful shape. Keno, too, did the same.
When they both felt that they were presentable enough, they moved to the counter.
"What can I get you two?" The barista asked. She had this cheerful smile on her face despite the tiredness laced in her tone.
"I heard a friend recommend this café's omelettes, so one order of it and a small coffee, please." He said and took his place at the counter.
Keno sat next to him. "I'll have the same," she said.
"Please wait a moment." The barista said and went through the door behind her.
While waiting for their orders, he took a glance around the place. Besides them, there were a few others inside. A man dressed in shabby clothes sat at a table in the corner, typing on his laptop while sipping his iced coffee through a plastic straw. A different man, dressed in ordinary office clothes, was flirting, albeit a little loudly, with a woman sitting opposite, who was dressed in remarkably finer clothes.
Despite the loud flirting behind them and the chewing of ice in the corner, the silence between him and Keno was deafening.
"So? Did you read and sign the contract?"
He hoped that some small talk would ease the awkwardness between them.
"Yes."
It did not.
"Anything you're having trouble with?"
"Nothing that comes to mind."
Great, this is getting nowhere.
"Look, I'm sorry about before, I didn't mean it, I-"
She cut him off mid-sentence, "I know! Okay, I know you didn't mean to hurt my feelings. You didn't know what happened to me." She sighed, both hands covering her face. "I know you don't know. And I know it was more my fault for taking it the wrong way. But you kept saying sorry and sorry, despite it was never your fault, to begin with. So, please! I'm begging you, please, stop saying sorry, drop the matter, and let me sort through it all on my own."
He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. This situation was one he had never faced before. He wanted to say sorry, but that was probably the last thing she wanted right now. So, he did the same thing he did yesterday. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.
She dropped her hand from her face. There were no tears. Worse, her eyes were empty, as empty as his when he looked in the mirror. He sat there, again stumped on what to do hand still on her shoulder. Yet, slowly but surely, her eyes regained their sharpness and their light.
She closed them, then drew in a deep breath, held it for some seconds, and released.
"Thank you," she said, her voice lighter, and there was a sense of relief from it. "For that, and for yesterday, all of it. Thank you. Just let me work through my feelings on my own, okay? I know you wanted to help, but you cannot help me with this."
"I understand. Take your time."
"Thanks."
The silence between them continued, but Keno seemed fine with it, and strangely, he was, too. A few more minutes of silence passed, and then the barista returned with their order. Two small cups of coffee and two plates of omelette.
It was alright. He had no frame of reference for these kinds of food, and he could only hope Keno found it good enough.
And it was a relief when he looked over and saw that she had no problem with eating it, at least outwardly. They finished their food quickly. They still have to go to work after all. When she saw they were done, the barista gave them the receipt. Alongside it was a hand-held payment terminal.
He reached his hand forward for her to scan his chip while reading the receipt she gave.
Two omelettes, each two thousand yen; two cups of coffee, each one thousand yen; six thousand yen in total. That was expensive, and it wasn't even necessary, since this whole thing was a misunderstanding on his part.
Only when they left the café for good that he let out a sigh.
Walking beside him, Keno asked, "It was that expensive, huh?"
"Yeah…"
"Sorry for not saying it wasn't your fault earlier."
"Nah, it was partly my fault anyway, for reminding you of something you didn't want to remember. And if you don't want to consider it an apology meal, then consider it a cheer-up meal instead, from one friend to another."
"Friend, huh? Friend…"
"Are we not friends, then? And here I am, going to all of that trouble for a stranger." He said and put his right arm over his head dramatically, mimicking an actor in one of those ancient plays that Shizyuutensuzaku recommended.
And despite that lame joke, Keno laughs, a soft laugh that made him feel… light. It was as if she lifted a burden that he didn't know he carried. He laughed too, but for a different reason. It was kind of funny, really. He lost a friend yesterday and today he gained a new one.
Now that the awkwardness between him and Keno has passed, they discuss the contract that Wazaki gave her yesterday.
"The address in the contract differed from the real one. Should I ask for it to be fixed?" Keno asked while pointing to said address on the paper.
"Oh, don't worry, that's the address of the new office we'll be going to after the new year. I told you we're merging before, right?"
"You did, actually. So besides that, I don't see any problem."
"That's good then. Oh, and how much did it say your salary was?"
"Three hundred thousand for the first three months of probationary and seven hundred afterwards."
"You got probationary immediately? That's some luck. When I started, the first three months was an unpaid internship."
"How did you survive?" Keno asked, surprised.
"My mother's saving, mostly. I was one of the lucky ones. A friend of mine had to borrow money from people he knew to pay rent and such when he started working."
Ulbert's tale was a sad one, but not an uncommon one. A few others in Ainz Ooal Gown shared the same story.
"Lucky that you found me, then," Keno said.
"Umu." He hummed.
After that, they talked more about random observations and Keno's gripe about being flashed with light first thing in the morning, which they both shared a laugh at about her misfortune.
When they reached the company, they were late. And when he took Keno to Wazaki to hand in the contract, Wazaki yelled at Satoru, about how he had worked in the office for the longest but now acting like this, he should be an exemplar instead of acting like a delinquent, and a bunch of other stuff, including the half-day off he took yesterday.
Keno was let go with only a stern reminder to not be late again.
That was surprisingly lenient of Wazaki. Other newly hired got chewed out far more, for reasons far less. Why is that? He wondered.
Maybe Keno was just lucky.
After Wazaki finished raining spittle on him, they were both dismissed to go back to work. And they kept working until lunchtime arrived. The coworker whose turn to order food suggested they eat gyoza at the newly opened restaurant two streets away since it offered a discount when ordering for large groups.
Discount was mentioned, so it was no surprise that everyone agreed.
When he opened his Styrofoam box of gyoza, he knew that this wouldn't be a good meal. Taste was something he didn't really care about when food was concerned, but even he could tell that the gyozas were bad.
From just the look of it, he could see that the wrapper was thick. Too thick, in fact, that the filing felt almost too raw. And the synthetic meat inside was way too chewy and too bland. They didn't season it enough before wrapping it.
He could only hope he didn't get a stomachache after this. He only got a maximum of twenty minutes of bathroom break a day, and he highly doubted that it would be enough if he got food poisoning from this thing. It would also be quite a nightmare if the rest of the office caught food poisoning too. He could almost see the line waiting in the hall.
"This is quite bad." One of his coworkers said. He agreed. Keno was, too, if her head bobbing up and down like a bobblehead was anything to go by.
Murmurs of agreement flooded the usual silent office. He guessed they wouldn't be ordering from this place in the future, then.
After that, everyone returned to work as normal. The rest of the workday passed with only two cases of food poisoning, and luckily, neither he nor Keno was one; considering the food they ate, that was a win in his book.
On the way home, he asked Keno if she wanted something to eat, but she declined, saying they spent enough money for the day, and she also said that the opened cup of ramen was waiting for her at home. He chuckled.
At home, they did the same thing as yesterday and this morning.
They took turns in the bathroom, ate a meal together, and talked for some more before each went their separate way. He returned to his room, turned off the lights, and logged on to Yggdrasil. Tried to, at least, the moment he put on the helmet, the Christmas ad assaulted his eyes again. And again, the colour red reminded him of Keno's family name. Why did it feel so familiar?
That can be left for later. Now, he had something more important to care about. Although he dreaded what was to come, it was still something he needed to do. Something he must.
In front of him was the same Round Table and luxurious chairs, but no occupants, not today. Today was a Saturday. There used to be at least a few of his friends logged on during Saturdays. But that was when the guild was at its peak. Now it's only him.
Guess it was time to visit Fafnir again.
The fight was longer this time, since with the extra DPS from Peroroncino, he was forced to fight reservedly, spending too much mana on Fafnir and he would have nothing left to fend off the opportunists that love to stalk these kinds of dungeons. He quickly looted everything he could and returned to Nazarick.
After that, was something he dreaded to do. He teleported to the treasury again.
The treasury was silent; it had always been silent. He opened the crafting menu, a few scrolls, and a few taps later, the golem creation table appeared.
Material: [Gold]
This golem, just like the nineteen before it, was made with gold.
It took all the gold in his inventory and a little from the treasury itself to make a [Golden Golem] with a high enough level.
The pile of treasure beside him grew smaller. The golem's model manifested before him in its crude glory. In its base form, the golem was just chunks of gold haphazardly stuck together, glimmering, but not very impressive.
He paid the system the extra gold needed to access the modification panel.
From the golem's original form, he began moulding it. First the torso, then the arms, the head, the horns, the claws. He was never good at moulding the legs, so he just left them in their original stumpy settings.
And after a few more finishing touches…
There. Done. A golem made in Ulbert Alain Odle's image.
As he gazed upon his creation, he felt something.
Joy? No.
Pride? Definitely not. There was no pride to be felt.
He clenched his jaws, sucked in a breath, and sighed. Twenty times. TWENTY TIMES he had been in this same spot, making these golems. And yet, this was the worst one he had ever made.
This was nothing more than a mockery of Ulbert's avatar!
The horns? Too far apart, each sat at the wrong angle, each a curse at his useless being.
Checking with the picture of Ulbert beside him, his blood boiled. The spiral of the horn was backward! What kind of idiot made such a stupid mistake?
He glanced down at the face. The face! Oh, "the face"! He thought with venomous hate. It looked more like a horse than a goat. The snout was too long, the face too small but the chin too big! What was wrong with his hands that led to the creation of such a monstrosity?
Further down was the torso, misshapen and hunched as if it was being crushed by his failures. Its arms were crooked in awkward angles, and its claws? Too blunt, too short; too much of a stain upon Ulbert's memory.
It was supposed to depict Ulbert at his grandest moment. A finger pointed forward, casting [Grand Catastrophe] upon unseen enemies.
What he created instead was a wretched parody, a mockery, a failure's grand design.
Its finger pointed not at unseen enemies but at him, accusing him of weakness, incompetence, and worse, of being a false friend who didn't have the decency to remember what a true friend looked like.
He thought he was crafting a reminder to look upon and reminisce about all that they had done together. Now, all he would ever remember was how much he had failed.
Anger faded, along with his motivation to keep going. Half of him wanted to start over, and half did not. He felt numb, empty, hollowed. He looked between the golem and the image of the real Ulbert. With his skeletal hand, he traced every immaculate detail that Ulbert had poured into his avatar.
The thing he created could not even be called a pale imitation. It was no imitation at all!
He noticed, with clarity, each flaw, each mistake, each failure. And with each, a new emotion grew stronger and stronger.
Shame.
He back-handed the golem. The nerves of his real-life hand tingled. The golem flew into the nearby wall and exploded into pixelated mist. Nothing was left behind.
Golems did not drop the material they were created with.
A needless waste of resources that the guild had hard fought to earn.
He had failed. Again, and again, and again. What kind of guild leader was he that his friends, his comrades, kept leaving? Was it something that he had done?
Of course, it was. What else could it be?
But what did he do? What didn't he do?
…Oh. The answer came.
Touch-Me had a family, Yamaiko had students to care for, and Ulbert had a job he needed to do to keep himself alive. Every single one of them had a job that kept them alive because their lives were worth living because they had better things to do than just play video games all day.
He, with his desire for adventures, trampled over their real-life wants and needs. Time and time again, he asked them to be online for his sake, without realizing how much they had to leave behind to be on Yggdrasil.
He was so obsessed with this fantasy that he not only brushed aside his own life but the lives of his friends and their loved ones, too.
Monstrous, evil, hateful, their voices echoed.
Maybe he should focus on real life instead. Be like them.
What if he couldn't?
"Then at least stop bothering them from now on. They can come online whenever they want, urging them would only make them like you less." His own voice said to him. He was inclined to agree.
Logging off, he pulled the cable out of his neck and just sat there.
He did not want to think, not now. Tomorrow was a Sunday, so self-reflection could be left until then. Now, he wanted to just surf the web for nothing and everything, to shut down his brain enough for a peaceful sleep.
He pulled out his phone and started scrolling. What site? He did not care enough to know. He just wanted the light from the phone screen to strain his eyes enough so that he could stop thinking entirely.
Scrolling and scrolling, the words on the screen lost its meaning long ago. After a few posts, a flash of red burned his eyes. An ad, "Christmas is right around the corner. So BUY, BUY, BUY." It was only halfway through November, though.
The ad featured a Santa, holding his sack and wearing his signature white and red costume.
Red… Aka… Akaishi…
Why is it that the name felt so familiar? Where did he hear it before?
But he was too tired to care right now, so he turned off the phone and closed his eyes, hoping all of that scrolling was enough for now.
Eventually, he fell asleep, with red plaguing his dream.
Hello again, readers.
I tried to get this chapter out as soon as I could. And fortunately, I was only three days behind my self-imposed deadline. How's that for a work ethic?
Joking aside, as a new writer, I learn with each chapter I made. Originally, this chapter was supposed to have a fight scene between Momonga and Peroroncino with Fafnir, but the thing I wrote was a horror show, barely coherent. So it was cut out.
But you guys shouldn't worry too much. In the future, there will be fight scenes, but only when I am satisfied with my skill in crafting them. Before then, this is all I got.
Also, the prologue was updated. Nothing major, just fixing some grammar and a few minor changes to make the whole thing smoother to read. And I hope to do the same with Chapter 1 when I publish the next chapter.
Another thing, I changed this fic's name from "Keno's Isekai Adventure" to "Destinies Collided", since my first idea for this fic was for Keno and Satoru to just spend some time together and have fun. But the more I write, the more things change. My original draft of the scene this fic was aiming towards is now completely different from how it started. So a change in the title was something I felt I needed to do.
So, sorry if it caused any confusion among you, and I hope the new name isn't too cringy.
With that note, see you all in the next chapter. Goodbye.