Honestly, I Don't Know What I Expected: A Day Off

Honestly, I Don't Know What I Expected: A Day Off

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Commissioned by Patreon Special

Word Count: 2015

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There comes a time in someone’s life when a day off is more than what it sounds. It the time when childhood truly ends and one knows that their future is filled only with despair, work, and working while despairing. These are the days in one’s existence when the weekend is merely the passage of time between work, as are holidays, and are nearly meaningless to one’s own mind. When one has entered this stage of wage-slave lifecycle, which is followed by death, the only good thing in life, the sole shining light in the darkness, is a day off.

A day off is more than merely a day off. It is something that one must fight for tooth and nail to get. It erases all obligations from oneself in the middle of a workweek, or at the end or beginning, and foists all of one’s work and responsibilities onto those who are not free.  It is the ambrosia in the way it both saves one and intrinsically harms the place that has rendered pain and misery upon the victim it briefly shelters. Everyone’s schedules will become meaner and more vicious with a single individual calling in a day off. The company will suffer as one of their precious cogs disappear, having proven itself capable and intelligent.

Days off saves the soul and exact vengeance upon the demon that befouls it.

Begone, corporate overlords, I’m on fucking break and you already approved it!

Why there isn’t a Kami-sama for days off is a mystery. Or, well, a Kami-sama for laziness and seeking out a life of not working. Surely, there’s a massive conspiracy around that fact. All the other Kami-sama must have seen fit to lock that glorious Kami-sama away, fearing their almighty power and perfect comfy cuteness. All the evil and good Kami-sama, who now trundle over the world forcing everyone to fight and work and suffer, all colluded to lock that Kami-sama of comfiness away.

Because, really, they had no choice.

If everyone can worship a god of slacking off, and they’d get to slack off, they’d do it in a heartbeat.

However, my plans to overturn all the pantheons and beat the truth out of the maws of gods is currently irrelevant.

I am on my off day, and I intend to enjoy it.

However, unfortunately, my off day was because I nearly died.

So, naturally, Wallenstein was making my recovery a living hell.

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“I’m recovering, brat. Not dying.”  My words did not stop my blonde student from walking about in the tizzy in the infirmary. I’d modelled the place to look like a hospital ward. Though, most hospitals would kill to have health potions, which this one had plenty in stock off. My little alchemist side project has yet to produce a single Elixer, but while they slaved away—I mean grinded their skills for the sake of the Familia, the Alchemists were preparing bottle after bottle of middling class Health and Mind potions. Did it eradicate our need for other Familia’s goods? No. But, after doing the books and evaluating the upkeep and setup costs, the Loki Familia was looking at a twenty percent cost decrease in potions… and that’s before we started producing Elixirs en masse in a few more years. Then, it’ll be a 60% cost increase—Eh, Wallenstein, what are you doing with that pillow? I know I’ve made you to be a child soldier and my personal attack dog, but can I ask for a better death than pillow suffocation? “And, what do you think you’re going to do with that, idiot?”

“Less stress means faster recovery.” Ah, but have you considered the fact that you’re the source of my stress, Wallenstein? Can it get through your thick, cloud-covered skull that your presence in my infirmary room is the reason why I’m stressed? Do you know how difficult it is to take a nap with a young woman shuffling through closets, cabinets, and supplies continuously? I imagine not, because you’re not me.  “Take this to help your recover, Sensei.”

“Put that back where you found it. I prefer sleeping with only one pillow, brat.” Individuals with more than one pillow yearned for human warmth and affection. My heart bleeds brackish blood, is composed of ice, and utterly distrusts anyone or anything that smiles. I needed at least fifteen Totsuka dakimuras to feel an inkling of human warmth and affection. If you can only offer me that shitty, extra plain pillow, don’t even try. It’s only an soft whisper of what can truly make me comfy. A whisper that only tells me off the nice thing I can never have. “Get out of here. I can heal on my own. Hell, I’m already healed. I just need to stay here to sleep off regrowing my organs and most of my skin.”

“No. My fault. I will stay with you.” Yes, you are correct. This is your fault. I’d lectured you about it through the pain and suffering of having elixir grow back my stomach from being disemboweled and burnt, because you’d been an idiot and didn’t watch your back. All the fancy sword moves you’re augmenting your style with isn’t worth shit, if you get lung- and face-full of freaking magma. But, you’d learned your lesson. You’d apologized. Finally, most importantly, you gave me all the Valis you’d earned through he expedition, while I barely felt a lick of pain. All of that means you’re forgiven and free to fuck off somewhere else. “I will make sure you get better.”

Augh, there’s nothing that gets through this brat’s head when she gets something in her mind. I’ve barely managed to glean her desire to get stronger is to avenge her father and mother, let alone actually work on stymying that stupid hatred that’ll get her killed one day. Now, here I was, weak and ineffectual, attempting to reason with Wallenstein. Folks, while she is pretty in the classical Saber-expy way, there isn’t an ounce of sense in that brain of hers. Much like the venerable King of Knights who had kinky threesome sex in a church, she is single minded and therefore close-minded.

Thankfully, she had me to keep from dying to her own son.

Who is really her daughter.

From her sister.

Alright, I lied, the brat’s just blonde and uses a sword and is too thick in the head to know when to quit.

“There’s nothing you can do here, brat. Go and recuperate. You can train later.” Seriously, I get your whole character. You’re the orphan I took in, taught, and cared for. I just saved you from an untimely demise by “sacrificing” myself. From your point of view, I’m a selfless, amazing, and great person. Which I am, but I don’t like to brag, because I’m exceedingly humble. However, you’re mistaken. I saved you because it was in my best interest to not let you die and lose me years of resource investment. My time, money, and resources have been gobbled up by you in spades. A little pain and suffering to make sure that I don’t lose that metaphorical accruement of wealth is to be expected. Basically, I just saved by home from burning down by getting a burn that’ll heal within a day or two. It wasn’t much. “You’re supposed to anyway. Everyone’s tired from the run back. Riveria will be angry with you if she finds you here.”

“That’s fine. I do not care what Alf-san thinks.” Oi, oi, oi, where’d those words come from? Since when did you lose faith and hate authority? I’m not looking down on you. Actually, I approve quite a bit. Anyone who doesn’t like Riveria Ljos Alf is in my good books. That elf bitch is always smug, reliable, and perfect. Can’t you see that the rest of us normal, pseudo-gods are around? Can’t you be a little considerate and lower the bar? The higher you raise the bar, the harder it is to meet the minimum requirements, y’know!? “I will stay with you until you are well, Sensei. Please, do not make me leave.”

Huh.

Please.

I didn’t hear that phrase often from Wallenstein. Honestly, it’s a little embarrassing to hear. She just doesn’t have the sort of countenance you’d expect to say please. I mean, her character is closer to a dandere than anything else, with the dere held back, and replaced with kuu. She’s simultaneously shy and apathetic, a good combination in my grand, perfect opinion. Those two skills complement each other splendidly. She doesn’t like talking to other people, and doesn’t care about other people, therefore the weaknesses of both classes are erased, while the strength of their dere offensive skills is multiplied exponentially.

What I’m saying is that hearing Wallenstein say please isn’t something that I can ignore.

Maybe it’s because of my buried, big-brother instincts.. That pleading face and that light blush reminds me of Komachi when she’d visited me in the hospital after my untimely car accident. That day my beloved little sister told me to always be home so that someone can great her when she arrives. My class choice of being in the going-home club and being loner allowed me to execute the maneuver easily, so I was more than capable of meeting her demands.

I guess being injured and incapable of moving, whilst having a ludicrous amount of books to read, can allow me to let Wallenstein have her way.

Not that I want her to stay.

It’s just that letting her stay was less stressful than letting her leave.

“Fine, then. Have it your way, brat. Take a seat.”

“Thank you, Sensei.”

Smile as much as you want, kiddo. The only reason that you’ve won is because I lose nothing by conceding. It would’ve been a waste of effort now and later if I’d told you to not waste your time.

Jeez.

…

Tch, you tell me that you’re going to take care of me one second, and the next you’re asleep.

Wallenstein, naturally, was as tired as everyone else was after our swift retreat to the surface. Years of grinding stats didn’t change the fact that she was still a growing girl. It’d be another year or two before she hits her semi-final physical baseline at eighteen. And, those years will involve numerous equipment changes, weapon training, and balancing acts. There was the possibility that she’d keep growing until she hits twenty, but that was something I was hoping against. I was already beating away the ravenous fools going after the “Sword Princess” with a very, very energetic stick. Her parents must’ve been both huge Riajuus to have such a daughter. A Raijuu amongst Raijuus, she would’ve been, if not for the fact her primary mentor figure is myself.

You’re welcome, society.

Despite the fact you’ve done me every wrong possible, I have stopped nature from inflicting an airheaded princess upon you.

Anyway, it goes without saying that Aiz Wallenstein was growing up quickly. Slowly, but surely, she was becoming the weapon I needed to truly finish the Dungeon. Not only was she a lethal combatant, capable of taking on sub-bosses alone, but she also relied people behind her. She attracted converts, legend-seekers, and idiots aplenty to the Loki Familia, and we were capitalizing on that.  What Valis comes in gets shifted to more training, more manufacturing ability, and more power, and all of that was linked to the fact that Wallenstein was attracting attention the world over.

Amongst the all the idiots and sycophants were a few talented folks. More bodies meant more manpower. More manpower meant better, easier preparation for the expedition, thus Wallenstein is proving herself to be more and more of an asset to the Loki Familia.

Still, all of that didn’t excuse her for forcing an injured man to tuck her into bed, after using his stomach as a pillow.

Seriously, brat, you need to work on your hospitality.

Who knows when you’ll need it, once you get the first flags you’re interested in, after all?