Suteko Ni Narimashita 23

“Here comes the troublemaker!”

The day after I recovered from my illness, I headed to the Stone Shop. 

Gustav greeted me with a solemn expression as I walked in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned, though I had a suspicion.

With a sigh, Gustav looked away before answering. 

“You’re behind the chaos in the Fifth District, aren’t you?”

“Ah… yes.” 

It had something to do with Haman, no doubt.

“Rumors are swirling in the Fifth District. People are saying the slum dwellers will attack you if you get too close.”

“That’s not what happened, though.”

“I understand.”

I furrowed my brows. 

Gustav glanced at me, the lines between his eyebrows deepening.

“That’s the nature of rumors. They get distorted as they pass from person to person and end up unrecognizable.”

“Makes sense.”

“I spoke with Nyxie to verify the rumors and got the full story. While you didn’t make the worst possible choice, it was still a poor decision.”

“Is that so…?”

“Yes. It’s good you didn’t seriously injure him, but engaging in a fight was your mistake.”

So, should I have avoided the fight altogether?

“The people in the slums are already marginalized. By winning that fight, you’re inviting more trouble for yourself. You should’ve just walked away.”

“I hear you,… but I can’t fully agree.”

“Again, I get that.”

Gustav nodded, a hint of understanding in his eyes, but his expression remained stern.

“Living in the slums? Then it would be wise to keep a low profile,” Gustav said, looking out the window with a tinge of sadness.

“If you’re interested in a long, trouble-free life, it’s best to keep your head down and live within your social standing.”

For a moment, emotion flickered across Gustav’s face.

“Ever hear of ‘The Crow Flying at Noon’?” he asked.

“…No? Can’t say that I have,” I replied.

“It’s a children’s cautionary tale,” he said, his tone taking on a somber note.

“What is the story about?”

“It’s quite simple.”

“Ok!”

“In this fable, a Crow dreams he’s the king of all birds. He imagines other birds paying him homage with food and shiny coins, and he feels incredibly proud.”

Gustav paused, letting the words sink in before continuing.

“When he awakens, still under the veil of night, he believes he remains that revered king. 

He tries to call out, expecting the same attention he received in his dream, but no one answers.”

He took a breath and carried on.

“Unperturbed, the Crow leaves his forest at noon and flies into a field where humans and smaller birds are present. 

He caws as grandly as he had in his dream, expecting the birds to flock to him.”

Another pause.

“Instead of gathering birds, he’s met with stones thrown by humans. One hits him in the stomach.”

Gustav looked at me intently.

“With his dying breath, the Crow realizes his folly: ‘As a creature who lurks in the darkness,     stepping into the daylight was my undoing. At least in the forest at night, I was free to be as loud as I wished.'”

Gustav sighed, “The story serves as a warning: if you don’t tread carefully, you could end up in a dire situation.”

I stayed silent, pondering Gustav’s cautionary tale and how much weight to give his advice.

“Even if you couldn’t escape, Nyxie would’ve been more than capable of carrying you. That guy, Haman, was also partly to blame; he got carried away,” Gustav sighed. 

“For now, steer clear of the Fifth and Craftsman’s Districts. Rumors tend to die down. We’ll just need to be cautious in the meantime.”

***

As I walked home from the Stone Shop, I found myself lost in thought.

Yes, I could’ve just walked away. My primary objective of restoring my magic and fighting spirit had already been achieved. I had the option to leave from the start. 

I understand that, but it still doesn’t sit right with me. 

Haman was an unpleasant character. 

He had shoved me aside at the treatment clinic and later ambushed us with his gang. 

Yet, I was the one advised against fighting back. 

Gustav warned me that this would only lead to more problems down the line. 

What would those problems be? 

The slum dwellers are marginalized because they’re not recognized as official city residents, and thus, they are not protected. 

That makes them easy targets for abuse from the citizens. 

They live on the edge, at risk of being attacked just for walking down the street. 

Even if they were to be stolen from or harmed, society would overlook it—just because they’re from the slums. 

Everyone endures this reality to avoid a worse fate. 

If I stay in the slums, I’ll have to endure it too. 

I don’t think I can live like that. 

So, what’s my way out? 

How do I escape this life, earn my citizenship, and become an equal in their eyes?’

I remembered Stona’s disdainful glare, eyes that labeled me as garbage, someone to avoid at all costs.

Then Haman’s eyes came to mind—judgmental, seeing me as someone easily pushed around.

Would becoming a city citizen change their perspectives? 

Would living among them, without altering my appearance or demeanor, still subject me to their judgments?

I’d explored the city once before and thought, ‘Even if I change, their views won’t.’ 

But is that the absolute truth?

I want to test that theory. 

If I change, will their attitudes change in turn? 

Will they regard me as just another citizen instead of a slum-dweller? 

And if they don’t change, I’ll point and laugh at their unyielding ignorance. 

Yes, escaping the slums is the goal. 

I don’t know how long it will take or where to start, but the journey seems worth undertaking. 

After all, up to now, I’ve had no clear purpose. 

From this moment on, this is what I’m driven to do.