That morning, the sun was shining bright. Birds chirped cheerfully.I was deep in thought, trying to come up with a way to fake passing out just to skip combat training.
Unfortunately, it didn't work. The nurse came in early and said,"Congratulations! Today you'll learn the basics of sword fighting."
Sword??I can't even hold a kitchen knife without pinching my own fingers—how am I supposed to handle a sword as big as a water jug?
I was herded to the training grounds. There, a line of soldiers stood, ready, eager, and dripping with sweat.Meanwhile, I… was still regretting not pretending to have a stomachache instead.
"Grab your sword!" shouted the instructor, whose face looked like he hadn't slept in two weeks.
I picked the shortest and lightest sword I could find, hoping it would make me look like I knew what I was doing.But it just made me look like I was playing with a toy.
"Take a defensive stance!"Okay, this was getting serious. I tried copying the person next to me.
"Too weak!" the instructor yelled—and then…KICKED ME IN THE STOMACH.
Not a gentle nudge. This was a full-on, drill-sergeant-from-hell kind of kick.
I collapsed."Aaaaakh!"The other soldiers turned to look.
The instructor said, "Do you think the enemy will wait if you're this weak? Get up! Do it again!"
Alright. New fact: corporate slaves cry in Excel; kingdom slaves cry while holding swords.
I got up again. This time, trying to be serious.
"Face your partner. Start sparring!"
My partner?Oh no. It was the guy who laughed at me yesterday when I got scolded. He smiled wide."Don't worry, I won't hit too hard," he said.
Five minutes later…
"UGHHH!!"I was on the ground again. This time, my face got hit—softly, but it still hurt.
"Sorry! Reflexes!" he said, grinning.
I wanted to retaliate, but… I couldn't even stand without wobbling.
Eventually, the training session ended.Me?I passed out. For the second time this week.After that pain-filled session, I woke up in the clinic—again.
Three fainting spells in a week.If this were a game, I'd unlock an achievement: "Survivor of Suffering."
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was…Him.The guy who couldn't stop laughing every time I got yelled at. Sitting in a chair, casually eating an apple.
"You're finally awake," he said like he owned the place.
"Why are you here?" I asked, half-annoyed.
"The nurse asked me to watch you for a bit. Looks like you fainted again."Then he laughed. Again.
I glared at him."Seriously? You're laughing again? I almost died."
He raised a hand. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But honestly, you're funny. I mean… you're like a chicken thrown onto a battlefield."
...
Okay, that… kinda hurt. But I also laughed a little inside.
He extended his hand. "Name's Alto."
I looked at his hand.Hesitated. But finally shook it.
"Aria."
He nodded. "You're weird. But I like weird people. They're usually the ones who last the longest."
I frowned."Are you seriously saying that to someone who's passed out three times?"
"Well, at least you're not dead yet."
Thanks, Alto. Very comforting.
Days passed.Training got more brutal, but now I had someone to talk to—and to get yelled at with.
We were often paired during training. Sometimes he'd teach me how to properly hold a sword. Other times… he'd intentionally mess me up just so I'd get scolded worse.True friendship, huh?
One day during a break, I asked,"Alto… why did you become a soldier?"
He paused. "Because I have nowhere else to go."
I went quiet too.
"What about you? How did you end up here?" he asked in return.
I just stared up at the sky and quietly said,"I don't know. But it feels like fate wants me to be the kingdom's punching bag."
Alto laughed again.But this time… it wasn't annoying.