Jesters may cry, but not as often as they laugh.
It's not that they can't distinguish sorrow from sadness, or that their lives are full of happiness.
It's quite far from that — it's simply their nature.
But what happens when this image, this nature, breaks apart?
"Since the beginning of time, this very world was ruled by the first man, Adam. He had the power of divine blessings and miracles, posing as the god and father of humanity."
"His rule was restricted and unexplainable by human logic, as he prohibited contact between the opposite genders, prostitution, music, art, and alcohol, saying that those very things are what bring the devil a key to our hearts."
"Most people were blessed due to the promise of paradise and peace in Adam's era, yet among those people, some couldn't accept his rules. They called themselves the outcasts."
"The outcasts asked for help from the first sinner, Lucifer, to kill Adam and bring his rule to an end so their rule could begin, and surprisingly, the hell king accepted — with a simple condition."
"The outcasts broke the seals of prayers around Adam, allowing Lucifer to enter and kill the false god!"
"After it was done, Lucifer ordered the outcasts to eat Adam's body, dividing it into seven equal pieces for each of them, assigning each a part of this world to rule as they pleased along with one of Adam's daughters, and they became our new gods and rulers!"
"The peace never lasted naturally, as the gods started to have disagreements, leading to holy wa—"
Mr. Goldberg coughed blood.
Little by little, he began to lose his balance.
Before he could fall, Nari, the student president, caught him gently.
"Are you alright, Mr.?"
I sat in the last seat, hearing the other students gossiping.
"Poor old man Goldberg, can't they just let him retire?"
"Are you stupid? Half of the other adults went to war, who will teach us?"
"I mean… what's the point? We might just die from another explosion or those devil's Corinthians attacks."
Well, they weren't wrong… maybe too harshly truthful.
Most of the other adults were forced into a war they never understood why it began in the first place, hoping it would end soon — but guess what?
This is the fifth world war.
It will never end.
Besides, teachers themselves, like Mr. Goldberg, have no educational qualifications to mentor and teach us.
Only their "wisdom."
We've heard this story of creation thousands of times.
It actually makes me laugh every time.
I mean, how could you call any of them gods?
They are no more than mere imitations trying to deny their imperfections.
Mr. Goldberg began to slowly regain his composure as he rested in Nari's gentle hands, helping him sit back in his chair.
"That lucky geezer…"
"I wish I could be in his place."
I laughed.
I couldn't hold it, to be honest.
Mr. Goldberg's eyes narrowed at me, his glances filled with both hatred and disgust.
He punched the table, forcing the students to stop gossiping, then continued the lesson.
Yet his eyes never left me.
"My dear children, does any of you know what the seven gods agreed upon, even putting their differences aside?"
I honestly didn't know.
I looked around and, as I expected, no one raised a hand.
Mr. Goldberg smiled.
His smile gave me chills.
"It's on the extermination of vile lineages and races, the gypsies and jesters."
Not this again…
One of the students raised his hand, asking "why."
His name is Kayle.
Mr. Goldberg forced his feeble legs to stand, walking toward me.
"Because both of those races are believers and worshippers of the damned devil, Lucifer."
How ironic.
They glorify the gods that ate Adam's corpse only because of Lucifer's help, yet hate and discriminate against my family for believing in him.
Hypocrites…
"But because of our righteous and kind god, Visares, he pardoned what's left of them, giving them another purpose instead — dying for his sake on the battlefields."
I looked at the ground, trying to ignore his glances.
He touched my desk.
"Isn't that right, Sammael Morningstar?"
Students' whispers began to rise again.
I sensed their eyes on me.
It made my hands tremble with fear like a trapped animal.
I forced my head up, facing Mr. Goldberg while hiding my hands behind my back.
I smiled and said joyfully:
"Yes, it totally is! My grandfather would confirm it if he hadn't died years ago."
Mr. Goldberg chuckled.
"I sometimes forget that this punk is really a dirty gypsy."
"He is not just a gypsy but a jester too!"
They were harshly truthful here too.
I'm both a gypsy and a jester.
My father is a jester and my mother is a gypsy.
"HAHAHA, how ironic, they must have hunted his grandfather with dogs!"
I clicked my tongue.
But this wasn't true at all.
My grandfather did serve this damn nation, despite having no power or blessing from the god of the west.
Hearing them disrespect him like that…
Made my blood boil.
I hope that all of you die.
"Why are you smiling, Sammael?
Shouldn't you be angry?"
My smile widened.
"Jesters cannot either cry or frown, Mr. Goldberg."
I chuckled, looking at Nari.
"Is it not as amusing as sleeping with high school girls, old man?"
Silence fell.
Nari looked at the ground in shame.
Everyone looked at me with tense eyes as if I were a lamb in a cage.
And that's when I realized that I made a mistake…
Everyone here has the west god's blessing except me.
Hell, even that old man can kill me in an instant.
Just as Mr. Goldberg raised his hand to hit me —
The ground shook furiously.
Making him slip on the ground.
Which made me laugh harder, to be honest.
But that sound…
I looked through the window near my seat, but nothing was abnormal at all.
Just a couple of security guards near the power house of the school and the city.
Suddenly, one of the guards began to vomit blood, then the others followed one by one.
The earthquakes began to rise again and again.
Then the power house exploded along with the guards.
The window glass broke, scattering over the students and Mr. Goldberg.
As the rest began to yell and weep…
I smiled.
But this time, it was completely my own.
"It's so beautiful…"
I said, looking at the black smoke of what's left of the power house.
But something emerged from the black smoke slowly.
A woman with pink hair, where hands are supposed to be are claws with long nails, dragging them along the ground of fire and blood.
Her face was hidden under a mask of an ancient yet familiar drawing of devils.
You may ask, "then how did you know she is a woman?"
And I will be glad to answer by pointing at her chest that is not covered by anything but a rope or something red.
"The Corinthians!"
"Run!"
"We are going to die!"
They wept harder in panic, running out of the classroom.
I remained in my chair, looking at her through the broken window, walking slowly towards us.
"Sammael, you damn dog, stand up now!"
Nari said, pulling my hand.
I moved her hand aside.
"The explosion might have damaged your vision, president… I'm not Mr. Goldberg."
Her eyes narrowed.
Then she ran with hesitation.
Someone might ask, "why didn't you run along?"
I couldn't…
I couldn't keep my eyes off her.
She is so dazzling.
I felt something rising between my legs, something that shouldn't have risen in such times…
The woman with pink hair waved at me with her black claws.
For some reason, I… blushed.
"See you soon," she said loudly.
Then, as I blinked, she was nowhere to be found.
But that feeling didn't disappear as she did, so I thought I should deal with it since everyone had evacuated and all…
Yet that exact decision was actually one of the worst I have ever made.
Because Kayle was waiting for me in there.
And let me tell you, have you ever witnessed an ant facing an elephant?
Well, that's your lucky day!
Because after just his first punch, I fell to the ground, clutching my chest in agony while I laughed, though I don't know why he is even hitting me again today — shouldn't he be evacuating with the rest of them?
My uncontrollable laughter seemed to get to him as he kept punching me over and over.
Someone may ask,
"why didn't you fight back?"
Well, he is blessed and I'm not, it's futile. The blessed can regenerate, summon elements connected to their inner souls.
While I?
I couldn't do anything but laugh — not because any of this is funny or I'm some kind of masochist.
He grabbed me up from the ground by the collar.
"Why are you laughing, you creep? Is this a joke for you?"
"I can't really weep or cry, Kayle, as you well know.
Sorry for that, I know it's not as amusing but please by all means you can stop…"
His eyes were a bit glassy, his lips tight too — it seemed like I was the one bullying him.
His grip around my collar tightened, rising in heat.
"You think I'm doing this to have fun?
You Corinthians monsters killed my brother!"
My eyes narrowed.
"But I'm not a Corinthian, Kayle.
If I were, you'd be dead by now, don't you think?"
Suddenly, fire began to ignite around his grip, setting my clothes on fire.
And my skin too, but the shirt is more valuable to be honest…
"Corinthians are gypsies and jesters, aren't you one?"
He raised his left hand full of fire.
"Any last words, before you go to hell?"
He sounded a bit too cliché, I couldn't really take him seriously while his eyes were flowing with tears.
"In fact, I do, Kayle.
But could you drop me on the ground?"
His left hand began to move towards my face.
"Wait, wait, wait!"
Thankfully, his hand stopped.
"Shouldn't you be using your time hunting that red-haired girl instead of torturing me?
I don't even know your brother, for God's sake!"
He bit his lips roughly, trying to contain his tears.
"But you saw him explode just a moment ago…"
The hell he means?
He dropped me onto the ground.
"He watched him explode, you watched the power house of our city burn…
Yet what were you doing?"
"…"
He kicked me.
"You were watching the culprit with admiration as if what she did was an achievement you strive to do…"
"…"
"My brother… the one you ignored, was the only person who treated your kind like humans!
But what did you do to him in return?
Grieve? Have a bit of decency and pray for him?
Yet I found you touching yourself in the bathroom!
Ignoring the president who tried to help you and not just that but insulting her publicly…
My own sister!
You don't de—"
"So kill me," I interrupted.
His eyes narrowed.
I forced my broken body to stand.
"If I am that evil, why don't you kill me, Kayle?"
I grabbed his igniting hand of fire and directed it straight to my heart.
"Do it."
"You think I won't do it… just because we are friends?"
"I don't know what's happening in your damn mind."
I chuckled.
"I mean blaming me for your brother's death because I stared at her for a moment?"
"…"
"But it's easier to blame the abomination kid, isn't it right, Kayle?
Why doesn't your father avenge him in the war?
Corinthians sometimes interfere in wars, he might get lucky."
Kayle's hand was shaking, its fire eating my skin.
"Oh, that's right! Your family is royalty, none of you have to go through war but us abominations do!"
"B-but—"
"But what? But what?
You're going to tell me now how hard your fancy life is?"
Kayle's tears fell, dropping onto my hand and his, evaporating.
It reminded me of myself when the fifth world war began and my family were forced and dragged there.
I asked my father, with an expression similar to Kayle's:
"Why would you serve a country that doesn't even consider you more than an animal?"
He slapped me.
And said with conviction:
"A man who doesn't defend his country is no man at all!"
I chuckled and hugged Kayle and his burning body.
"The hell…?"
"Shut up."
"But you will burn… you are on fire."
"Then put it out."
"I can't…" he said, sobbing.
"But you can. I believe in you."
The fire began to fade gradually.
We sat on the ground for a while, talking about his brother and how nice he was, although I don't really remember him.
"I will get married next month…" Kayle said.
He sounded a bit strained, then I remembered that Kayle wasn't really interested in girls , even though he is good-looking and from a prestigious family.
"Do you want to?" I asked.
He looked at the ground and said:
"Now that my brother is gone, I am the only male in my family…"
"I didn't ask about that. Do you want to? I mean, I have known you for a while now, I know that… girls are not really your cup of tea…"
He chuckled, then stood up.
"I have to."
I laughed.
Before Kayle left, he asked me:
"After our high school graduation, will you join the military as your parents did?"
I honestly couldn't tell.
I really didn't see a point in thinking about something that was already decided for me.
They will drag me as they did with my parents after all.
"A man who doesn't defend his country is no man at all…"
My father's words might not be conviction at all.
But an excuse.
Because he had no choice.
He must have felt so powerless.
I stood up and left along with Kayle.
"I have to," I said.
—
Lying on the couch of our empty house, I couldn't help but think of that Corinthian girl.
I tried to continue what I was doing in the bathroom before Kayle interrupted me.
But suddenly, the photographs of my parents kept looking at me.
Honestly, not just now — they always keep looking at me even when I point them in another direction.
It's annoying… and relieving.
It gives me the illusion that I'm not entirely alone in this world.
Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door.
Damn hell, who the hell is knocking at this hour?
I pulled my hand out of my pants and opened the door.
To my surprise, there were three military soldiers, two of them dragging black garbage bags.
My eyes narrowed as my heart started to beat furiously.
The one in the center took off his hat and put it on his chest.
No… no… no… this is a joke, right?
"My condolences."