Somehow, Living Life in Another World is Wrong, as I Expected Ch. 14.2 (Patreon)

Public speaking. It is a skill that many would kill for. Not because they’d be speaking in public (Lol. Lmao even.) but because it was said that the skill gives people the confidence needed to concisely bow down to their superiors in Japanese society. I mean, really, have you seen a real Japanese press conference where there wasn’t a perfect, ninety-degree bow?

Most of the time, it’s because if you’re holding a press conference, you’re usually doing so to pat out the fires of some controversy. And that usually means that the spokesperson takes all the blame for it.

Well, I suppose that that could also just mean that nobody watches press conferences that aren’t interesting, but that’s besides the point.

To be a good public speaker implies that you know how to read the mood of the crowd. A person that can’t do that, would only bore the people half to death. Admittedly, I am a good judge of people, even at a distance. I can more or less understand that the people around me usually think I’m an asshole, and to be fair, they’re right.

The problem is the second half of public speaking. Namely, the speaking part. I will admit that I’m not exactly the best when it comes to modulating my voice. My usual voice is just monotone, barring situations where I make a real effort to show emotion. Mostly for comedic timing, because a funny side character is less likely to die a horrible death in a light novel.

Not that I’m the funny side character. I’d classify myself as the helpful blacksmith that’s grouchy as all hell, but has some moments that make the audience like him. Similar to that one gatekeeper that topped the popularity polls from that one game. You know the one, I just don’t want to be sued from thinking about the franchise in my own head.

Anyway, what I’m saying is that I am decent at understanding the human condition, but shit at actually standing in front of the crowd.

So why the hell is Karsten parading me around like a damn peacock?!

…

Because apparently, becoming a nationally recognized mage meant that I needed to be shown off like some newly purchased horse, dragged from one end of the capital to the other so that every merchant, minor noble, and vaguely important person with enough free time could stare at me and decide whether I looked sufficiently impressive.

For the record, I did not.

Karsten had already brought me through three separate districts, introduced me to two merchants whose names I immediately forgot, one minor noble that spent the entire conversation staring at my clothes, and a group of knights that looked at me like they were trying to figure out how someone with my face had somehow contributed to killing two of the most dangerous Mabeasts in existence.

I sympathized with them.

“Hikigaya-kun, you could at least attempt to look pleased.”

“I am attempting.”

“You look as though someone has informed you of an impending execution.”

“That is significantly more pleasant than whatever this is.”

Karsten glanced at me from the corner of her eye, her expression remaining perfectly composed despite the faint twitch at the edge of her mouth. Behind us, Wilhelm very deliberately turned his attention toward one of the buildings lining the street, suddenly fascinated by the architecture in a manner that told me the old bastard was trying not to laugh.

Traitor.

The streets were busier than normal, though whether that was because Karsten had decided to parade me through the capital during the middle of the day or because word had already spread about exactly who I was supposed to be, I couldn’t tell. People whispered as we passed, some openly pointing in our direction, while a few others simply stared with the sort of unabashed curiosity usually reserved for public executions and exotic animals.

One kid stared directly at me like I had grown another head.

I subtly checked.

Still one.

Good.

“You understand that this is necessary, yes?” Karsten asked, lowering her voice just enough that the people around us couldn’t easily listen in.

“No.”

Argyle made a noise behind me that sounded suspiciously like a snort.

I ignored him.

“The public needs reassurance after everything that happened.” Karsten continued, somehow maintaining the same patient tone she used whenever explaining something painfully obvious to someone that she considered particularly stubborn. Which, admittedly, was probably me, “The Council can issue statements, and the knights can confirm the events themselves, but seeing those responsible carries considerably more weight than words written on parchment."

“Then bring Natsuki.”

“That would be counterproductive.”

Fair.

Natsuki in front of an audience was less public relations and more unexploded ordnance.

“Besides," Karsten continued, “You are the one receiving the title of Black. It would be strange for Lugunica’s newest recognized mage to refuse every opportunity to appear before the people.”

“I prefer mysterious recluse.”

“Oh, Hikiganya certainly prefers something.” Argyle suddenly chimed in, his voice carrying that deliberately sweet tone that immediately made every survival instinct I possessed start screaming.

I turned my head just enough to look at him.

Argyle was smiling.

This was not a good thing.

There are many kinds of smiles in the world. Happy smiles. Polite smiles. Smiles you give someone because social convention demands it even though you would rather be literally anywhere else.

Argyle’s belonged to a fourth category.

The kind worn by someone contemplating murder while maintaining plausible deniability.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing at all.” His ears twitched, which somehow made the smile worse. “I simply find it interesting how comfortable Hikiganya has become accompanying Crusch-sama everywhere.”

Ah. There it was. The rumors.

I had hoped that particular disease had remained confined to the slums and whatever bored housewives spent their afternoons inventing romantic conspiracies about unmarried nobles. Apparently, gossip possessed better transportation infrastructure than most kingdoms.

Karsten sighed, "Ferris."

“What?” He placed a hand against his chest, looking genuinely wounded in the way only someone being completely insincere could manage, “I’m only making an observation, Crusch-sama.”

“You have been making that observation repeatedly since we left the manor.”

“And I will continue making it until I am satisfied.”

I looked back at him properly this time, mostly because ignoring a cat-shaped interrogation officer only worked until said interrogation officer decided subtlety was no longer getting results. Argyle was still smiling, but there was enough tension around his eyes that I could tell this wasn’t entirely teasing anymore. Which was ridiculous. Karsten and I were…friends. Colleagues, technically. Political co-conspirators if you wanted to make it sound exciting. There were several perfectly reasonable explanations for why we had spent an unreasonable amount of time together recently, and almost all of them involved people trying to kill us.

“If this is about those rumors, they’re bullshit.”

“Of course they are.” Argyle answered immediately, which would have been significantly more convincing had his tail not flicked behind him like an irritated metronome. “Hikiganya and Crusch-sama simply spend an unusual amount of time alone together, disappear for private conversations, regularly visit each other without formal notice, and Crusch-sama apparently trusts Hikiganya enough to bring him along for matters involving the Council. Completely normal.”

When he put it like that, it did sound suspicious.

“That describes Wilhelm too.”

“My wife would likely object were the same rumors to concern me.” Wilhelm replied calmly from behind us, apparently deciding that abandoning me to my fate had become more entertaining than pretending he wasn’t listening.

I turned around and gave him the flattest glare I could manage. The old bastard smiled.

Karsten brought a hand to her forehead, “Ferris, Hikigaya-kun and I are not engaged in any romantic relationship.”

Argyle immediately brightened, “There. Crusch-sama said it.”

“Yes.” Karsten nodded. I nodded alongside her.

“Good.” 

His eyes shifted toward me as the brightness disappeared.

“But Hikiganya hasn’t.” Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I’m not sleeping with Karsten.” I rolled my eyes, only to stop in place. Oh shit.

Three nearby pedestrians stopped walking. Karsten froze. Wilhelm closed his eyes. Argyle made a noise like someone had stepped on his tail. 

Perhaps public speaking really wasn’t for me. Modulating my voice really was an issue.

…

The silence lasted for approximately three seconds, which was somehow more than enough time for my brain to reconstruct the sentence, identify every possible interpretation of it, and subsequently begin drafting my own suicide note. 

Whoever is listening, please remember to give it to my sister, and my cat.

I had meant that there was nothing romantic happening between Karsten and me. A perfectly normal clarification, if expressed by someone with even the slightest degree of social competence. Instead, I had apparently chosen the phrasing most likely to make every person within earshot assume that the possibility had, at minimum, been seriously considered.

“Hikigaya.” Argyle’s voice had gone very quiet. Somehow, that was infinitely more threatening than the sugary tone from before. His ears were completely upright now, his tail rigid behind him, while the smile on his face returned with enough force that I briefly wondered whether healing magic could be used offensively, “Would you perhaps like to explain why that was the first thing that came to mind?”

“It wasn’t the first thing that came to mind.” I paused, “It was maybe the fourth.”

“Hikigaya-kun.”

Karsten’s voice carried the particular sort of exhaustion normally reserved for parents whose children had somehow gotten their heads stuck between stair railings. When I looked toward her, there was a faint redness around her cheeks that she was doing an admirable job of pretending did not exist. Unfortunately for her, Argyle noticed it too, and the look he directed toward me immediately became several times more murderous.

Wonderful.

Wilhelm made another suspicious coughing noise.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Are you enjoying this?”

“Immensely.”

At least he was honest.

Karsten exhaled slowly before continuing forward, evidently deciding that entertaining the conversation any longer would only encourage Argyle. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. The three pedestrians from earlier had hurried off, whispering excitedly among themselves.

I watched them disappear into the crowd.

Thank god newspapers didn't exist here. That would have definitely been tomorrow's headline if they did.

…

I wasn’t blind. The more I looked at things, the more I realized that this wasn’t the norm for Karsten. She was much more relaxed than she usually was, owing to our successes. It’s why I didn’t think too much about how she acted.

Until now.

The way she talked…it was way too close to a certain club member of mine. This wasn’t the first time I had noticed, nor would it be the last. The air of cool confidence was familiar enough that I had fallen into the same habits. Arguing and debating with her. 

The similarities were not exact, obviously. Karsten was considerably more willing to compromise than Yukinoshita ever was, and had somehow managed to acquire the social skills necessary to speak to another human being without making them feel as though their entire bloodline had personally disappointed her. She was also older, more experienced, and possessed enough political power that insulting her too badly could probably become an international incident. Minor differences, really.

Then again, the same could be said for me. The old Hachiman, as much as he was me, had also grown up.

Still, the familiarity was there. The way conversations naturally turned into contests neither of us were willing to admit were contests. The occasional dry remark that slipped past her otherwise painfully proper demeanor. Even that particular expression she made whenever I said something she considered idiotic, where her eyes narrowed slightly while the corners of her mouth threatened to rise.

Familiarity was dangerous. It made people comfortable, and comfort made people careless. I had gotten comfortable around Karsten without realizing it, enough that I no longer constantly remembered that she was a duchess, a Royal Candidate, and one of the most politically powerful people in the kingdom. Somewhere along the way, she had just become Karsten.

Which was probably why the rumors existed in the first place.

“Hikigaya-kun?”

I blinked, realizing that she had stopped several steps ahead of me. Argyle stood beside her, still watching me with the narrowed eyes of someone who had mentally prepared several different ways to dispose of a body, while Wilhelm appeared considerably more amused than a man his age had any right to be.

“What?” I asked.

"Shall we continue?"

Right. The actual reason I was here. I gave one final look toward Argyle, who returned it with the sort of suspicion normally reserved for someone carrying an unmarked package through an airport, before catching up with Karsten. Whatever personal crisis my subconscious had decided to spring on me could wait until I was somewhere far away from witnesses and preferably beneath several blankets.

We turned the corner.

Then I stopped again.

There was a raised platform at the end of the street, surrounded by enough people that I immediately began reconsidering every decision I had made since waking up that morning. Knights had cordoned off the area, merchants had abandoned their stalls to watch, and several officials were arranging papers beside what was unmistakably a podium.

A podium.

No.

Absolutely fucking not.

I slowly looked toward Karsten, who had suddenly found something very interesting about the crowd ahead of us. Wilhelm's expression had settled into the serene neutrality of a man who absolutely knew what was coming, while Argyle's earlier hostility had disappeared beneath barely concealed amusement.

"You said we were making public appearances." I accused.

"We are."

"You did not mention a speech."

Karsten finally looked at me, and there it was again. That tiny upward curl of her lips, the same expression that always appeared right before she said something specifically designed to irritate me.

"You never asked."

I stared at her.

She stared back.

Fuck.

The crowd noticed us moments later, applause beginning near the platform before spreading outward through the street. Hundreds of eyes turned in our direction, and Karsten calmly continued forward as though walking toward public scrutiny was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

Public speaking.

What a fucking scam.

…And yet, I couldn’t help but follow through with it.

…