Live for Me, Die for Me

"Hey! You wandered around all day and this is all you've got? One lousy coin?"

The boy went sprawling from the kick to his stomach. His gaunt body no longer had a shred of strength left to resist.

"Even a scrap of bread's too good for you. Useless brats that can't earn their keep ought to hurry up and die!"

Even after that, the man kept kicking him roughly, over and over, as if he couldn't work the anger out of his system. Only once the boy had gone completely limp did he finally spit on the ground and walk away.

As the high-hanging sun sank toward the horizon, countless people passed in and out of the alley mouth.

Not one of them spared a glance for the boy slumped beside the trash can.

As if that weren't enough, it began to rain. In the steadily dampening air, the boy stared blankly up at the sky.

...I'm sorry, Shilo. I'm sorry...

He had run away from the orphanage to earn money for his sick little sister's medicine.

He'd wanted to go home soon. He'd wanted to cure her illness...

And so the candle of his sorrowful ten-year-old life was flickering out.

Splash. Someone stepped into the alley.

A man so tall his frame blotted out the boy's entire field of view.

Long, flowing white hair. An eyepatch over one eye. And... jewel-bright violet eyes.

"Hey. You alive?"

"......"

"Dead, then."

The man turned to leave faster than expected. With the last of his strength, the boy grabbed hold of his trouser leg.

"P-please... save me..."

"......"

"I'll do... anything. I'll do anything. Anything..."

The man coldly pulled his leg free of the boy's grip, then clicked his tongue in irritation.

"Listen, boy. You'd best not toss the words 'I'll do anything' around so lightly. This world isn't filled with nothing but kindness."

"......"

The boy dropped his head. The man's words were colder than the chill of the pavement.

As the boy bowed his head under the flood of despair, the man asked,

"So. Who did this to you?"

"......?"

"I asked who beat you to a pulp."

The boy hesitated.

The man who'd done this was a well-known thug around these parts. He gathered up children and put them to work pickpocketing, and brutally beat any who failed to meet their daily quota.

Worse, he claimed to be friendly with all the local police. What could this man possibly do about that?

The man pressed the hesitant boy.

"Quickly. The name."

"B-Billy."

"Age and any distinguishing features?"

"Thirties... tall... and he's got a lion tattoo on his arm."

Without so much as a reply, the man strode off. Soon he had vanished from the boy's sight.

More time crawled by. The boy was still lying there, aching and starving.

So I really am going to die now... Just as that thought crossed his mind, he heard the same footsteps again.

"Get up."

When he opened his eyes, the white-haired man was there. As the boy stared up at him blankly, the man frowned and bent down. A moment later, the boy's body rose into the air.

"Let's go."

And so, cradled in the man's arms, the boy left the alley behind.

Then his eyes went wide at the sight before him.

Billy lay sprawled in the middle of the thoroughfare. Frothing at the mouth, the lion tattoo on his arm drenched in blood.

"H-how did you..."

"Detailed explanations will be omitted. More to the point—you said you'd do anything, didn't you?"

A crowd was gathering around Billy. At first they held their breath in shock, but soon they began cursing him, throwing stones and spitting.

The boy gazed at the commotion for a long moment, then nodded.

"...Yes."

His voice followed, steady now.

"I'll do... anything. Truly, anything."

"A good answer."

The man nodded. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth.

"From this moment on, you will live for me and die for me. And in return, I will give you what you want."

The two of them walked for a long while through the drizzling rain.

And then, ten years later.

"Everlein. In recognition of your service and devotion, I hereby grant you the surname of Carseido."

The twenty-year-old Everlein bowed his head deeply. Deep loyalty welled up in his clear blue eyes.

"Thank you, Your Grace. I shall live a life worthy of the noble name of Carseido."

In the winding life of a street boy, it was among the happiest, most joyful moments he could count.

Back in the days when the immortal duke wore an eyepatch, kept his hair long, and went by the name Ricar Carseido, he had picked up a single small boy and brought him home.

And thus, the daily schedule of Everlein Carseido, now his knight, was simple to the point of dullness.

"Breakfast, desk work, training, lunch, desk work, training, dinner, desk work, sleep... with the occasional dawn drill. Even a hamster would lead a more varied life than this."

I sighed and tucked the schedule Kaylen had brought me into the drawer.

Based on what Kaylen had told me, I'd established that Everlein had come here in childhood through the same circumstances as in the original story.

In that case, he's most likely started colluding with the dark mages around age thirteen, just like in the original... but judging by everything so far, there's no guarantee everything matches the original to the letter.

The year Everlein turned thirteen.

In the original story, the dark mages approached him and threatened him, claiming they were holding his little sister in protective custody.

Crushed by guilt over having left his sister alone at the orphanage, Everlein shared the duke's information as they commanded, but...

And then the heroine's sudden appearance messed everything up.

Everlein developed tender feelings for the kind-hearted heroine. But fundamentally, his sister was someone no one—not even the heroine—could ever compare to.

"Bring me the duke's woman, and you get your sister back. A fair trade."

Everlein kidnapped the heroine at the dark mage's suggestion, was caught by the duke, and was ultimately killed.

That said, neither Everlein nor the dark mages were opponents to be taken lightly.

There was that part where Everlein and the dark mages joined forces and nearly beat the duke to within an inch of his life.

Which meant, surely, that if the sword-prodigy Everlein and a dark mage pooled their strength, they'd have the means to strike a real blow against the duke's body.

Granted, I had no desire to get anywhere near a dark mage either, but...

If I can't find a way for the duke to die, I'm the one who won't survive.

I still hesitated, but I steeled my resolve.

"...First, let's confirm whether Everlein really is the informant. And check whether his sister is alive and well."

Besides, helping find Everlein's sister is a good deed either way.

Muttering that to myself, I stood up—and my eye fell on the pocket watch sitting on the desk.

At the sight of the watch, stopped completely, the duke's voice surfaced in my memory.

"On behalf of all adults, I wanted to apologize for your childhood."

Because I myself had lived an unsettled life, I could say this with certainty:

No matter how old someone might be, very few people offer words of comfort that easily.

Which meant that once the duke died peacefully...

I might never again meet someone who apologizes to my life like that.

I stared at the watch for a long while, then slipped it into the desk drawer.

What I have to do hasn't changed.

At that same moment, in the Duke of Carseido's office.

Kaylen stared at his superior with an extremely pained expression. Blasion swept his gaze up and down his adjutant like a beast eyeing its prey.

"You've got some nerve, stealing documents from my study. Explain. Why did you share Everlein's schedule with the Doctor?"

"W-well, you see..."

The adjutant racked his brain over and over, but he couldn't withstand the beastlike glare of his superior.

In the end, he confessed as though detonating himself.

"D-Dr. Frencia said she'd... t-taken an interest in Everlein! And that she wanted to know his schedule!"

Blasion's tightly narrowed brows lifted. Like Kaylen, this was a reaction he had never anticipated.

"Did the Doctor say so herself? That she'd taken an interest in Everlein?"

"Yes. Ah, but—she did ask me not to tell a soul..."

Though it was meaningless the moment it left his mouth, Kaylen emphasized that it was supposed to be a secret all the same.

While his adjutant fidgeted so anxiously, Blasion had drifted off into an entirely different line of thought.

...I mean, if you got rejected by someone you were fond of, of course it would hurt, wouldn't it?

Blasion wanted to test his hypothesis as soon as possible. And for that, he needed to make the Doctor cry.

After a moment's thought, he straightened his posture and issued the order at once.

"Kaylen. Contact the atelier. The date, as soon as possible—no, tell them to come tomorrow. I don't care how much they bill for the house call."

"Pardon? Ah—yes, sir. Understood. Are you having new garments fitted?"

"Not for me. Women's."

"......?"

He knew this was a thoroughly, magnificently inappropriate line of thinking.

But Blasion intended to spare no expense of money or power in service of his goal.

"What's on Everlein's schedule tomorrow?"

"Preparatory drills for the upcoming deployment, sir..."

"Push it all. Every last bit of it."

"Your Grace, I confess I cannot follow you at all here. What exactly are you planning for tomorrow?"

Blasion answered.

"A date. For two twenty-somethings."