I Have a Reason to Hate Streamers

Chapter 169

The instructor, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, was dressed in a black suit. Given his large frame, it seemed like the suit didn’t fit well, but it didn’t look ridiculous either. With his solemn expression, no one would think it looked out of place.

“Before we go up, let’s talk for a moment. Do you remember the resting place up top? Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you soon.” “Okay, I’ll wait there.”

There weren’t many places that could be called a resting area in this graveyard. The one we often visited was a quiet spot at the foot of the mountain, away from people. There was a nice shade from the trees and a bench.

A cool breeze blew from the shade. As the unique scent of the forest filled the air, the instructor arrived, holding a large box in both hands.

“What’s in that box?” “It’s... a bit hard to call it your parents’ belongings.” “...?” “It’s something they left with me before the accident. It’s not something your parents used, so it’s not technically their belongings, but I thought it was something meaningful, so I kept it carefully.”

My parents passed away several years ago. Why now? The question arose, but I didn’t ask it out loud.

It was the instructor’s decision. Surely there must have been a reason.

Perhaps... it was something I wasn’t supposed to see years ago.

As expected, the instructor didn’t betray my trust.

While I waited, the box was opened.

Inside were a carefully wrapped wooden sword and a gi. Even I could tell they were valuable, luxurious items. The instructor, cautious about damaging the wrapping, handed them to me.

The gi was too large for me now... it had been tailored for the physique I had in the past.

“This was something I received a few hours before the accident. I had planned to inspect it to see if it met the regulations before handing it to you. There wasn’t any problem with the gear... but I never got around to giving it to you.”

I closed my mouth tightly. There was no choice but to.

It was an obvious story.

I wasn’t good at expressing my emotions.

This trait had been inherited from both my mother and father, so when it came to gifts, they always seemed a bit awkward around me.

I probably felt the same now.

They had never shown off their generosity in front of me, but I’m sure they made me call late at night to thank them for something. I would have said, “What is this for? I’m still using the good stuff you gave me.” And even as I said that, I’d have been smiling to myself – if the accident hadn’t happened.

The accident took away the chance to express my thanks. My parents didn’t leave a single scream behind.

I had fallen, broken, and weak, unable to ever hold a sword again. I lost my family, and my dreams were burned to ash.

“I didn’t want to stir up any more wounds, so I couldn’t tell you. But seeing you improving... I thought one day you’d get back to it. I thought about it a lot, even the day before the finals. Still, I wanted to give it to you.”

The last time I saw the instructor, he told me that my expression had improved a lot. He must have searched for me since then.

In the Arena finals against Cerberus, I held the sword. But I couldn’t control my collapsing mind, and I made a fool of myself. What did the instructor think when he saw me?

His pupil, holding the sword, struggling.

It was certainly not a sight to be proud of.

“Dah-eun, you still can’t hold a sword?”

Son, I’m too busy today to have dinner with you.I’ve left some money for you, so order something nice.Don’t skip meals! I really wanted to have dinner with you, I’m sorry~Love, Mom.I love you, my son.

It’s because of me that they came. Can I really say it wasn’t my fault?

My selfishness and my pursuit of happiness, did it not harm them?

Was my unhappiness truly not a punishment?

I love you, my son.

When I hold the sword, Mom’s voice doesn’t leave me.

Her love hurts too much. I’m hurting more because it’s love I destroyed.

I’ve lost the love I had. It must have been buried so deep inside my heart.

Why didn’t I know how great her love was?

Now that I’ve lost it, a huge hole has opened, and I can’t fill it. My heart is torn apart, aching.

But the worst pain is...

“Instructor, you’re wrong about something.”

“Tell me.”

“I didn’t hate the sword. I don’t hate it.”

I still love the sword. Even after everything that happened – losing my loving parents, my dreams burned away – I still love the sword.

The reason I didn’t cut off my immobile leg earlier was perhaps because of some hope.

Hope I couldn’t let go of, even though my life was a mess.

I still want to win. Every day, I analyze my weaknesses, and my mind is filled with thoughts of overcoming my opponents.

That’s why I was happy when I won the Arena and IKL.

I wanted to overcome the sword and kept logging in, dying repeatedly, but...

Despite losing everything because of my selfishness, I still can’t let go of it.

It’s terrifying, isn’t it?

“I think you knew. That I used swordsmanship as an excuse to complain. You were smart enough to know. I didn’t have what it takes.”

“I vaguely remember saying something like that.”

“Right? That’s why I can’t forgive myself. You knew, and even though you were troubled, you listened to my complaints. But because of me...”

“Enough.”

The instructor’s hand pressed firmly against my neck.

It was a neck massage he used to do often.

But now, it felt a bit painful.

“I didn’t know you were still thinking like this. You were more fragile than I thought. I’m sorry I couldn’t notice.”