The Story of Gothic Lady Who Met a Grave Keeper in Another World - Chapter 10

Well, I’m surprised.
I can only be surprised.
The fact that a 190-centimetre-tall, lanky bearded man is seven years younger than me is enough to blow away all my thoughts about how I might not be able to go back to Japan anymore, about being reduced to slave status, about how I’m going to make a living, and even how I feel like I’m losing my mind.
21 years old……21 years old, huh?

I see.
?I see. I see.
?I’m beginning to understand a lot of things.
?I finally understood why he had behaved so tastelessly that first night, preparing food and a bath for me even though I had taken off my clothes and waited for him to do so.

“I finally understood why he had been somewhat tetchy in preparing the food and the bath for me the first night I was there. What the heck.”

Yes, it’s a bottom line.
?It’s okay, no one understands Japanese, so it’s okay to mumble a little bit of a fatherly joke.
?You can’t post it on social networking sites, so a little bit is okay.
?No doubt.
?So I’m sure he’s glancing at me like he doesn’t even know I’m there.
?Cute.
?Suddenly it is cute when I think he’s younger than me.
?He is cute.
No, he’s about 30 centimetres taller than me.
I’d probably die if he hit me once.
I can’t even communicate with him.
I do have some concerns about my emotional stability, though, because of the way he suddenly punches himself in the face.

However, the things that I would feel “a little bit dangerous” with an adult male over 30 are “so cute” with a 21-year-old boy (I dare to describe him as such).
Maybe I like younger men.

I mean, I said, “Hey, I said hi to that guy. What a cutie.”

By the way, I am alone in the bedroom I was taken to on the first night.
It was an empty room to begin with, and it was decided that I could use it. I’m sure it’s just like that. I think it’s something like that.
Mr Sciuto prepared some loungewear for me, and I now have a plain, genuine face with my makeup removed.

When I was taking off my makeup, I hesitated for a moment, thinking, “Wait, I don’t think I have any eyeliner or something, and I’ll never be able to recreate that makeup again.” I hesitated for a moment, but I couldn’t just leave the makeup on.
No matter how hard I tried, the makeup would fall off and break down. In fact, most of it was gone already.
Of course, it was, wasn’t it?
I haven’t reapplied my makeup since last night, and since I’ve been attacked by zombies, crying, and fainting, it’s a miracle that my fake eyelashes are still attached, isn’t it?
Then I’ve given up and I’m just going to go pee.

The outfit Sciuto prepared for me was a so-called “tunic,” a dress-like garment that is very popular in neutral Europe.
As I thought when I saw the town, the atmosphere was basically like that of medieval Germany.
However, there were also some modern touches, and the toilets were rather modern, which suggests that the people who had wandered into this world before were desperately clamouring for something to be done about the toilets.
And now, I have been given the opportunity to play a part.
In my daily life in Japan, I do not consider it to be particularly useful, and I take it for granted that I am using technology– that is, “ideas” and “inventions” and the like.
I write these things down in the notebooks I receive, and in exchange, I receive money and citizenship in this world.
If that’s the case, first of all, I’d like some convenient cosmetics.
And skincare.

I can go to ……. I feel like I can go. It’s just like when I came to Tokyo from the countryside, isn’t it? I’ll be able to live on Thoeden-san’s dime, so I’ll be better off than I was when I came to Tokyo.

I have two special skills: optimism and not thinking too much.
Whatever will be, will be.
With such vigour, I travelled to Germany by myself and participated in the Gothic Festival.
As a result, I came to another world, and I had no choice.
If I have no choice but to live here, I will simply seek a way of life here.
As expected, the scale of what had happened was so unexpected that I was a bit puzzled, but when Mr Sciuto explained the situation in Japanese, I pretty much gave up.

Well, work work work …… anyway, I have to get some money and buy the citizenship.
I can’t be indebted to the younger Mr Thorden forever.
I grabbed a pen and went to my writing desk.
But it was inconvenient that there was no electricity.
It was already dark outside, so I had to use a candle to light my writing, but as expected, a lamp had not yet been built.

I was thinking, “It’s a feature of modern society that we have electricity. …… Ah, I can’t watch serial dramas or cartoons anymore. Then, there is no entertainment in this world. …… I wonder if we can see a play or something.”

I mean, what was the main entertainment in medieval Europe?
Oh, yes, I’m sure.

“…… public executions?”

I stopped to think.
?Somehow, I feel that this is a pastime closely related to grave-keeping. No matter how hungry I am for entertainment, I would never want to take the initiative in watching someone die. I never will.
?I’ve had enough of horror developments.
?Even if it meant living in the middle of a graveyard.
?I stopped thinking about it all and worked diligently on my writing.
?Let me start with my origins.
?I’m sure they won’t understand me if I write ” I am the great Eri Himeno… ” or something like that. Yes, I’ll write seriously.
Then, often.
I heard the sound of water downstairs and I stopped to spell out my painful middle school routine.

”…… what’s he doing? Cleaning or something?”

If so, I should help out as a housemate.
I stopped writing and left the room.
I descended the old wooden stairs with a creaking sound.

On the first floor, there was a living room, a kitchen, and Mr. Thoeden’s room.
There was one more room that I could not open, but I was told with a frightened look on his face, “Don’t open it,” so I made up my mind not to open it.

After all, this is the grave keeper’s house.
And this is a graveyard.
So, in other words, there are probably dead bodies here.

No, let’s not do that.
I’m afraid of the dark of night when I think about it.
I really mean it, I’m afraid of it.
Mr. Thorden, Mr. Thorden, where are you?

I hurried down the stairs and headed toward the sound of water.
The sound was coming from the kitchen.
What? You’re not making dinner, are you?

I said, “Excuse me! What are you doing here at this hour?”
He yelled.
Naked.
Oh, it’s a bath.
Mr Thorden was taking a bath.

Oh, yeah, that’s right.
There is no bathroom in this house. The concept of having a space dedicated to bathing in the first place is unique to modern people.
Even today, shower-only bathrooms without bathtubs are the norm in the West.
I took a bath in my room using the hot water Mr Thorden had prepared for me, but it certainly made the most sense to prepare a bath in the kitchen, where the fire pit was close by.

“Eri! –Eri! —Eri!”

I could tell he was yelling at me not to come in.
But I relentlessly intruded into the kitchen.

“Sorry to bother you, but I’ll at least wash your back. I’ll at least wash your back, your soggy smell back! I mean, you saw me naked too, so it’s common sense to show me your naked body!”

There’s blood everywhere! Splatter!

Mr Thorden has a razor blade in his hand.
And his cheek is bleeding heavily.
He was shaving his beard when I walked in on him, so it was a catastrophe at the very least.
Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I am sorry.
I am always sorry for the trouble I cause Mr Thorden.
I ran up to Mr Thorden.
|Is the wound deep? Are you okay? Something to soothe your wounds: ……!”
“I–..! —“
I ran over to him.

As I ran up to him, Mr Thorden grabbed the nearest cloth, pulled it on, and jumped out of the wooden tub filled with hot water.
An exaggerated gesture to get out.
He doesn’t seem angry though.

Even in the dark, I can tell.
His face is bright red.
No, not blood.
He is clearly embarrassed. Even his ears are red.

He is …… cute.

No, it’s not a good impression to have for someone who is getting bloodshed because of me.
The most important thing to remember is that you can’t just take a break from your work and go to the gym.
I gently walked over to Ms. Thorden, who had a cloth wrapped around his body and his back turned to me. When I pulled on his arm and urged him to return to the bathtub, he looked at me as if he were looking at a maniac.

What is that look? It’s offensive.
You did it when we first met, too, didn’t you?
Anyway, get back in the bathtub.
Come on, come on.
With a tug, Mr Thorden returns to the wooden tub with a puzzled look on his face.
With the cloth on his face, he could not wash his body or hair because one hand was blocked.
So I decided to wash Mr Thoden’s body.

I have some soap and a cloth, so I lather it up and scrub his back.

I said, “Wow,…… what a big back. It’s like I’m washing a wall. ……”

I washed his back, shoulders, arms, and all over his body.
The first thing to do is to make sure that you have a good understanding of what you are doing and how to do it.
I’m not sure what to tell you.
I have experience working part-time at a massage parlour when I was a student.
There was a gym nearby, so I would carefully relax the bodies of men and women with sore muscles.

That experience is now clearly useful.
I mean, isn’t this man’s whole body too fatigued?
It was too dim to see clearly, but as my eyes became accustomed to the scene, I noticed the various scars, large and small, all over Mr Thorden’s body.

The most noticeable is the burn on his side – or is it more like a branding iron?
Wow,…… the discriminated class is here to stay…….
It may be presumptuous of me to think this ……, but I feel so sorry for him.
He is only 21 years old.
He should be having fun, but he lives alone in an old house in the middle of a graveyard, has no wife, is a member of a discriminated class, and is branded with a branding iron. ……
Rubbing.
I patted Mr Thorden’s head.
Mr Thorden, who had become irresistible to my massage technique, suddenly regained consciousness and looked at me.
The wound was probably shallower than I had expected, and the blood on his face had already stopped.
His sparsely shaved beard looked ridiculous.
There were no mirrors in the house.
I took the razor blade from Mr Thorden.
I put some lather on his face and carefully shaved his beard.

I had helped a transvestite at an event to remove her unwanted hair, so shaving was a piece of cake.
See, I feel refreshed.
His hair is still a bit painful to look at, but after wetting it, washing it, and putting it all back, I can see Mr Thorden’s face, which I couldn’t see very well before.
|Hmmm… ……21 years old.”
I observed Mr Thorden’s face intently.
Hmmm, well,…if he is say young,… he looks youthful.?
But he has a face that exudes hard work.
I don’t think he looks much younger than he is. I think his life expectancy may be different, to begin with,…… and his nutritional condition may be different too.

“I’m not sure how much I’m going to be able to do.”

“—-?”

Mr Thorden said something.
Of course, I don’t understand.

“I only understand Japanese, Thorden. If it’s English, I can speak a little …….”

But if I’m going to live in this world for a long time, I’m going to have to learn the language.
Hmmm.. when I get a chance to give the book I’m writing to Mr Sciuto, I’ll ask him if there is any way I can learn some language.

I gestured to him to ask where the new cloth was, and he got out of the bathtub soaking wet.
He wiped his hair and body with the blood-stained cloth and put on the clothes that were scattered on the floor.
Silent.
What was that? What is it? It is getting hard to breathe.

“..Thorden?”

When I called out, Mr Thorden looked at me with gloomy eyes.
What’s with these eyes? What’s with those eyes?
What’s wrong, what’s wrong?
As it was, Mr Thorden retreated to his room.

Could it be?
No, no, no, no, no.
I seemed to have offended him somehow.

But I didn’t know a single word of apology.