Chapter 480.
<strong>Chapter 480. Heading to the Peak: The Ascent. (3/5)</strong>
<span style="font-weight:400">Aren’t I kind of screwed if I don’t remember?
<span style="font-weight:400">I wanted to scream and curse the world. I was furious.
<span style="font-weight:400">But hold on, raging now would get me nowhere.
<span style="font-weight:400">The origin of this ordeal, I must calmly think it over and find the root cause.
<span style="font-weight:400">What the hell happenedst night that would lead me to forget?
<span style="font-weight:400">‘I… do.’
<span style="font-weight:400">Those two words suddenly surfaced in my mind. Everything up until the moment I uttered themst night suddenly came back to me. But… after I said them, I couldn’t remember.
<span style="font-weight:400">Was I traumatized? I was blocking the memory out?
<span style="font-weight:400">Ugh, wait, maybe it has to do with this splitting headache I have.
<span style="font-weight:400">Physical exhaustion, dehydration,bined with Rosa’s wet top covering my head while I was asleep. Either we were messing around and did it in theke, or it rained while we were doing it outside by theke.
<span style="font-weight:400">Examining the tent more closely, the sun’s rays were shining through and I was presented with an unexpected clue. Remnants of raindrops, their shadows through the tent to be more specific. It seemed to be thetter, rain caused this.
<span style="font-weight:400">For us to note inside as soon as it started raining… it must have been quite the night to remember.
<span style="font-weight:400">Only… I didn’t remember it.
<span style="font-weight:400">Right now, I wanted to do nothing more than bang my head against a wall in desperation and pray that my memories of our first time returned to me.
<span style="font-weight:400">Isn’t Rosa going to kill me if I tell her I don’t remember our first time?
<span style="font-weight:400">I internally trembled at the thought.
<span style="font-weight:400">I’m… undoubtedly a dead man.
<span style="font-weight:400">Should I write a will beforehand?
<span style="font-weight:400">Wait. Maybe I can simte it in my head.
<span style="font-weight:400">I’ve got to try to imagine it. It’s my only hope.
<span style="font-weight:400">What would we have done?
<span style="font-weight:400">What sort of positions did we do it in?
<span style="font-weight:400">How many rounds did we go for?
<span style="font-weight:400">How long did we do it?
<span style="font-weight:400">There were too many variables. It was impossible to get it right.
<span style="font-weight:400">Yep.
<span style="font-weight:400">I’m screwed.
<span style="font-weight:400">This is too depressing. I’ll just have to wing it, and if I’m seen through, I’ll have no other choice than to gracefully ept my death. It wasn’t a bad second life. I’d say I had a pretty good run this time around. If there’s a third time, maybe I won’t make the mistake of having an assassin for a girlfriend.
<span style="font-weight:400">Haaaaah… no, I’d definitely make the exact same mistake and do it again. I... love her. I love her enough to even let her kill me with a smile.
<span style="font-weight:400">I’m definitely a goner.
<span style="font-weight:400">An idiot.
<span style="font-weight:400">One of those stupid couples.
<span style="font-weight:400">epting my fate, I felt strangely rxed. That was the very moment I realized something.
<span style="font-weight:400">Hadn’t I just gone through the five stages of grief in under five minutes without realizing it?
<span style="font-weight:400">Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and eptance.
<span style="font-weight:400">Damn, I really had.
<span style="font-weight:400">I just speedran grief.
<span style="font-weight:400">Was that a world record?
<span style="font-weight:400">Probably not.
<span style="font-weight:400">Well, it’s a PB I guess, better than nothing.
<span style="font-weight:400">Like hell it is!
<span style="font-weight:400">“Mmm~” There was movement inside the sleeping bag. Rosa popped her head out and slowly opened her eyes.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Morin.” I’dpletely forgotten there was still something in my mouth.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Morning~” she climbed up and gave me an affectionate kiss on the left side of my neck.
<span style="font-weight:400">She moved her hand to my lips, stuck her finger inside, and pulled out something that made me want to cry. How the hell did I fall asleep with that in my mouth!
<span style="font-weight:400">“Jeez, such a perv~ you seriously went and fell asleep with my panties stuffed into your mouth~”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why was that even in my mouth!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why else would it be in your mouth?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Was I snoring?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“No, you fell asleep with it in your mouth, dummy, did you forget?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Rosa…”
<span style="font-weight:400">“What is it~”
<span style="font-weight:400">“There’s something I have to be honest with you about.” I couldn’t hide it, it was best to immediatelye clean about this.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What, are you addicted and you want to do it again?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“No… that’s not it.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Then what is it?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“The truth is… I don’t remember anything fromst night.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rosa blinked a few times as if she was waiting for me to say I was kidding.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I’m… not kidding.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Wait… seriously? You don’t remember?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“No. I don’t.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I see…”
<span style="font-weight:400">She didn’t seem as mad as I anticipated.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Did we… really do itst night?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“You were amazingst night~”
<span style="font-weight:400">My body stiffened up when she teasingly said that.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Huh? By that… are you implying we did?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Did we? Or didn’t we? I wonder which one it is.” Rather than angry, she seemed amused having given such a vague response.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You’re really not going to tell me?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Figure it out yourself.”
<span style="font-weight:400">She pushed off me, rose to her feet, and started to get dressed. Her expression right now was unreadable. I couldn’t tell which it was.
<span style="font-weight:400">Seeing as her face didn’t give it away, I focused on the color of her soul. Light green? Was this… a feeling of relief?
<span style="font-weight:400">What was she relieved about exactly?
<span style="font-weight:400">That I didn’t remember?
<span style="font-weight:400">She really isn’t mad?
<span style="font-weight:400">Should I be d that I get to live to see another day or feel depressed that she doesn’t care that I’ve forgotten something important? My feelings were mixed. She could at least be a little mad.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Rosa, why aren’t you mad when hearing that your boyfriend can’t remember his first time going all the way with you?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“What makes you think I’m not mad?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Are you?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Well, you’re not wrong, I’m not really mad or anything.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Did something happenst night that you don’t want me to remember?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Not at all.” Her expression gave nothing away, but I didn’t miss the flicker in the color of her soul. Pink mixed with a light shade of red. Embarrassment.
<span style="font-weight:400">So that’s why. There was something embarrassing she didn’t want me to remember and she felt relieved because I didn’t remember it.
<span style="font-weight:400">Did she cry or something?
<span style="font-weight:400">Well… if that’s the reason, I guess I can ept it.
<span style="font-weight:400">I didn’t bother to keep prying. Hopefully, it’ll naturallye back to me over time.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What are youzing around for? We’ve got a long day ahead of us, you know.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ugh.” I couldn’t help but groan when I recalled what our ns for today were. My body was already sore fromst night but we were climbing up a bloody 14er of all things today.
<span style="font-weight:400">Yes, the final destination hadn’t been thiske for the scenic view here, but rather, one of the tallest mountains on the continent renowned for its scenic view at its peak.
<span style="font-weight:400">Or so I’d heard. I’d seen pictures from the peak, but I didn’t really get the whole appeal to it. Down here by theke looked far better both in pictures and seeing it in person from my perspective. But maybe if I saw the view from the peak with my own eyes I’d understand just what was so great about all these oversized hunks of rock.
<span style="font-weight:400">What had really piqued my interest in the view was the show at thearium I’d gone to a few months ago. In that show, it made the view look amazing, but that was naturally an artistic rendition specifically designed to look good.
<span style="font-weight:400">When I casually brought it up with Rosa when we’d been previously thinking of a destination, her eyes lit up and she said she absolutely wanted to go. Her reason wasn’t deep by any means, in fact, it was quite simple. She wanted to take pictures of us on the summit and boast about where she went over the summer with her boyfriend when school was back in session.
<span style="font-weight:400">I figured I could use the experience as reference material for a story, so I didn’t mind. I wanted to understand just what everyone found so appealing. I may end up being disappointed by it after all the hype, but it was worth a shot.