Chapter 122: Epilogue: Isolette
Wait a moment.
Well, instead of talking about “literature,” let’s talk about “me” as a person.
I’ll summarize it, not as long-winded as when explaining literature, so I don’t think it will need that many sentences.
In this story, the “literature” that I plagiarized and translated exists only as blank spaces between lines of text.
I continued translating, plagiarizing, and publishing literature.
Nevertheless, I want to talk about “something more important” than that.
Yes, about Isolette.
.
.
.Isolette, as she confidently promised, took every one of my “firsts” exclusively for herself.
We held a wedding, traveled the world, shared intimacy, grew plants, learned painting, and spent time doing things I had never done before.
So many things I had never done—it was almost overwhelming.
And then.
If there’s a first, there must also be a last.
Because my past life ended so abruptly, “preparing for the end” was another first for me.
But perhaps because she inherited the memories of the “successor,” it seemed like a familiar task for her.
Still as beautiful as she was in her youth.
Isolette smiled as she faced death.
“In the end… it seems my life is coming to its grand finale… Haha….”
“…Aren’t you disappointed?”
“No. Truly… it feels like a dream, being so satisfying….”
I offered her the “Elixir of Immortality,” but she refused.
Was it because she was a romantic at heart?
I’m still not sure if “loving literature” is a fitting reason to reject immortality.
But if her love for literature was the motivation, I had no right to persuade her otherwise.
In any case.
I could understand her feelings, at least a little.
She and I were the kind of people who didn’t cling to our lives.
“Still, if there’s one thing I wish for… I hope you’ll remember me as your first. I can’t promise eternity… but at least the order… yes, I don’t want to concede that.”
“…I’ll always think of you first.”
“That’s enough….”
Just as I couldn’t help but think of my conversations with the successor whenever I recalled my past life on Earth…
My memories with Isolette permeated deeply, embedding themselves firmly in my mind like a vivid scent in every trivial memory.
Even if I were to spend thousands of years here or be reborn on another planet someday.
The first is that precious.
No matter how many things I do that are not “firsts,” I’ll always think of Isolette, who was the first thread in my life.
“This universe will eventually perish too… and just like this world, a new universe will begin, right?”
“Yes. Probably.”
“Then, in the next life, I’ll wait for you again. But next time, will you find me first?”
“…Of course. Isolette.”
The many “first experiences” I shared with her changed so much about me.
If I had to name the most important thing.
I became someone who could tell someone else “I love you” first.
“I love you, Isolette.”
“Haha, me too… I love you….”
.
.
.
My life with Isolette ended with 100 years of love.
But even after Isolette’s story ended, it seems the epilogue will take much more time to be completed.
The story of a knight on a white horse and a princess ends with the two overcoming trials and promising a happy future….
But “my” story continues even after “Happily Ever After.”
Breaking a curse, marrying, and living happily ever after is not the end.
Just as the life of a preemie isn’t completed simply by leaving the Isolette (incubator), the life “after breaking the curse and living happily ever after” is even more tangled and complicated.
There are still many problems to solve.
Perhaps the epilogue will end up being much longer than the main story.
And then.
“We greet His Imperial Majesty.”
“Fuu… Truly, even if a story ends with ‘happily ever after,’ wasn’t it all too easily happy? I’ve waited for so long….”
Someone had waited a hundred years to fully claim that endlessly long epilogue.
“I apologize.”
“Che, it’s fine. After all, I’ll take the final part for myself. It’s like I’m stealing the best bite, so I almost feel bad for Isolette. Haha.”
“Ah, about that matter… could you wait just a few more decades? I’d like to save forging new bonds for after sending my children off on their way. I don’t feel comfortable otherwise.”
“…Haa. Do you realize that’s probably the worst thing you could say to a woman who’s waited a hundred years for just one person?”
Hmm.
“I didn’t mean to impose. If Your Majesty wishes, I can prepare the ceremony right away.”
“You remain the worst man, truly….”
“My wife has told me that often.”
“Still, if you’re going to ask, at least ask with a bit more confidence. I’ll wait a little longer. I’m used to waiting. Haha. But you can spare a day for me, can’t you?”
“Indeed.”
“It’s been a while—how about going to the library together?”
“That sounds good.”
“Come to think of it, I haven’t read the new book the author published this time. The title was, if I recall… Anna Karenina, right?”
“Yes.”
“If it’s boring, I’ll hit the author.”
“Haha.”
.
.
.
More than others, I’ve had two lives.
More than others, I’ve lived an eternal life.
Perhaps the reason I’ve been given more opportunities than others is that I needed more time to learn love.
This universe was rewritten with principles of the humanities under the kindness of an SF civilization.
Even if the universe showed consideration for just one person, wouldn’t that still make sense?
“That’s an interesting perspective!”
“Isn’t it?”
“Probability might be a little more equal for some, but in the end, it’s equal for everyone. We may be able to adjust the probabilities of this world locally, but… who knows God’s will? Einstein, stop telling God what to do. You know that, right?”
“…….”
The cosmic being responded to my musings with, “That might be the case.”
It was an answer as irresponsible as this world itself.
But precisely because of that, it was a meaningful answer. Isn’t the role of that cosmic being to turn “possibility exists” into “it’s possible”?
I decided to interpret that answer in a positive way.
And then.
Once I realized this, there was something I needed to say.
“Thank you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Thank you for giving me another chance. Thank you for giving me possibilities. Thank you for creating a world where mistakes don’t end in failure, but where new opportunities always remain. Thank you for your consideration. I am grateful for your kindness.”
“…Haha!”
At my heartfelt words of gratitude, the cosmic being laughed joyfully for a long time.
Then, with a tone so playful and exaggeratedly courteous that it almost felt insincere, the cosmic being replied:
“It’s my pleasure, Sir.”
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