†††
BAM!
Something struck my back hard, and I couldn’t breathe for a second because of the pain. My groans of pain didn’t stop them. Another fist hit my face. Another hit my stomach. I couldn’t endure it. I fell to the ground as four shadows loomed over me, guffawing.
“Aw, come on. Don’t get worn out just from that. We’re only getting started,” said one.
“This punching bag’s no good,” said another.
The four boys having fun attacking me were all sons of counts, and all had bad reputations. My bad luck began when I ended up in the same class as them.
They’d first targeted my childhood friend. He was the son of a viscount, but his father was a step away from losing his title and had less money than mine, despite my father only being a baron. My friend only managed to attend the academy once his father borrowed money from his extended family.
My friend was a suitable target for these thugs who groveled at anyone of higher rank and acted aggressively toward anyone of lower rank.
“Stop,” my friend had begged, crying, hoping they’d let him go. They laughed and kicked him in the gut.
At first, I acted like I didn’t see it, but it hurt so much that I couldn’t stand it any longer.
Before I could stop myself, I stepped in to put an end to their violence. The son of a baron should never stand against sons of counts like that. I’m not special, either. It’s idiotic for a normal person to act like some knight in shining armor.
“Come on, you give it a go,” one said.
“B-But, I…” said my friend.
“What? Are you really refusing to do what we tell you? Are you serious?”
“Maybe he’ll finally learn his place if we have some more fun with him.”
“Eep!”
“Sounds good. Hey, you want us to have fun with you?”
“N-No!”
“Then do what we say.”
“…All right.”
Now, my friend was the minion of the thugs. Sometimes, he even joined in when they ordered him to. He’d apologized to me as he dumped a bucket of foul-smelling liquid on me.
The four sons of counts ordered him to do it, but they still insulted him for it, saying things like, “Woah, man, he really did it,” or, “Damn, you’re terrible,” and then they’d guffaw as if something about this was fun.
The whole time, my friend cried, apologizing over and over.
That’s normal for a normal person like me. I can’t do anything. I’m just a toy for the strong until they tire of me and toss me aside.
“You’re in my way,” came a voice one day.
“What the hell…?” said one of the four thugs.
“Ack!” gasped another.
Lady Selena Violette. For some reason, she was in the otherwise empty back garden of the academy. Their mob was blocking her route while they were attacking me.
“L-Lady Selena Violette,” said one.
They were only the sons of viscounts. There’s a significant difference in rank between a viscount and a duke. That’s why they all flinched when she appeared out of nowhere, but it only lasted a second. One of the four quickly pulled himself together and urged the others on.
Essentially, they thought this: her father is a duke, but in name only. His title is like a decoration; he has no actual influence in the noble social sphere. We don’t have to back down from her.
They had all seen her engaged in friendly conversation with Prince Evan, but they conveniently forgot that fact.
“Do you think you could keep this little incident a secret?” said one of the four. “We’re just having some fun. We wouldn’t want this to get blown out of proportion, and people get the wrong idea.”
“Yeah, exactly,” said another. “We’re not like a lady who can take it easy like yourself. We’re all poor second or third or worse sons with no chance of inheriting our fathers’ titles. If you get some confused sense of justice in your pretty little head and go telling on us, most of it would be a misunderstanding, and we’d get in trouble.”
“Don’t destroy our futures, my lady.”
“Or, you could come join us and— Gah!”
One of the chatty four went flying to the side when Lady Violette’s fist struck his face.
“I said, you’re in my way. Did you not hear me?” she said.
“Hey, bitch, don’t think you can get away with that just because you’re a girl.”
Angry that a girl felled one of their buddies, they forgot they were a lower rank than her and attacked her.
A noble lady, someone not used to fighting, would normally freeze out of sheer terror in a situation like this, but she didn’t seem fazed. Actually, she slipped past their attacks as easily as she might step around an object in her path. One powerful punch failed to land anywhere. The person who threw it stumbled forward, and she grabbed the nape of his neck just as he was about to fall and jerked him backward.
“Agh!”
He went backward with as much speed as he’d gone forward and crashed to his rear end with enough force to break his tailbone.
How is the daughter of a duke this experienced in combat? Before I even realized it, she’d defeated them all.
“Even puppies can measure the difference in strength between them and their opponent,” she said. “If they know they can’t take someone, they’ll wag their tail and try to endear themselves to the stronger animal. You can’t even do that, which means you’re lower than puppies.”
“Um, e-excuse me…” I said without thinking as she went to leave, even though I was not someone who should address her.
She seemed to notice me for the first time when I said something. Not surprising. Someone special like her would never see someone like me.
“Uh, I, um, thank you…for helping me,” I said. “You saved me.”
“I just got rid of something in my way,” she said as if to say she wasn’t helping me. The characters in books used that sort of line to hide their embarrassment. I thought that might be the case with her, too, but I quickly realized I was wrong when I saw how she wasn’t even really seeing me. That was a shock because I admired her so much.
“Ah. Right. Um, but you still did help. So, thank you,” I said.
That’s how it should be, anyway. It’s not like anyone in this world would help me specifically. Definitely not someone as special as her.
“Y-You’re really strong. I was surprised a noble lady like you could fight like that. I always knew special people were different,” I said.
“Special people?” She looked back at me for the first time, her hair so black it seemed cloaked in darkness and her eyes so blue they reflected the spring sky. Her beauty put me on edge just by being in front of me, but now…those eyes saw me. I thought my heart might stop.
“Do you think you’re ordinary?” she asked.
“Well, yeah. No matter what you look at, I’m ordinary. People like me are treated like nameless side characters in a play. I’m sure the daughter of a duke wouldn’t understand what that’s like. Oh, I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. It’s not like saying it will do anything, anyway.”
“I see. I agree. You will never be special.”
I fell silent. I knew that, but she didn’t have to say it so bluntly. We’ve only just met, after all.
“And it is true that, in this world, I am something unique.”
“In this world”? What does that mean?
“And it is also true that I was born into a duke’s household, a position considered blessed by the commonfolk. That means I was given a higher quality of education than others, I own expensive things, and I never have to go hungry.”
She’s being really frank about her privilege. Usually, the higher their rank, the more they like to twist their words to hide that fact.
“However, I am still just a human.”
“Huh?”
“The terms ‘special’ or ‘ordinary’ are used by others towards an individual. They are not words used to describe ourselves. And yet, you’ve set yourself in the ‘ordinary’ frame. So long as you’ve given up on escaping that ordinary frame, you will be ordinary the rest of your life.”
“Ah.”
“It doesn’t matter how blessed an environment you’re in; if you don’t know how to use the treasures you have, they will go to waste.”
She was saying I shouldn’t decide I was ordinary based on things like my birth and upbringing. That would mean even I might be hiding the potential to be special like her someday, right?
“You’re weak,” she said. “So weak you can’t handle this rabble on your own.”
Someone with training is one thing, but I live a normal life. There’s no way I could handle them. She’s the extraordinary one for being able to handle them with ease. She doesn’t seem to realize that. Maybe she’s just a little out of step with everyone else? I wasn’t expecting that.
“What do you think will happen if you step into a contest of strength when you don’t have the strength to win? That’s why they treat you as their punching bag.”
I wasn’t trying to fight back with strength! I know it’ll be over quicker if I don’t resist, so I grit my teeth and bear it. But she seems to think I lost after trying to fight violence with violence. I don’t see how the situation she found me in could lead her to that misconception.
Why does it seem like everything’s about fighting with her even though she’s the daughter of a duke?
I’d assumed, based on her appearance and rank, that she was some elegant lady. Now that I’m talking to her, I realize I was wrong. But…
“Use your head,” she said. “You’re not an animal. If you can’t win on your own, get more people involved. But people won’t help if they don’t get anything out of it. You need to either incentivize them to help or find evidence that will drive them into a corner. That should be easy for someone strong-willed enough to take their punches.”
But…
“The weak have their own way of fighting and winning. The weak can’t be picky with their methods. It’s not underhanded in the slightest. If they insult you, say you took the coward’s way out, just remind them they lost.”
And then she grinned and left.
She is so cool.