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Mein Krieg (Youjo Senki/Tanya the Evil OC)

Mein Krieg (Youjo Senki/Tanya the Evil OC)
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Mein Krieg




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Prologue: The day I told God off
Chapter 1: Life is (not) a...
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Prologue: The day I told God off
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    • Trunko

    Trunko

    Dissatisfied writer
    Location
    Milan, Italy

    Mein Krieg

    ​
    What is a FAQ?

    The FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions) is a list of the most frequent and common question regarding a certain topic or subject. In this case, the following FAQ are focused on my story, to help its readers and answer to many of their question. The list is continuously and constantly updated: if a question becomes quite frequent, it will be added along with its relevant answer.

    What is this story about?

    This story is a Self-Insert fanfiction set on the Youjo Senki/Tanya the Evil universe. The protagonist is a young western adult that, at the beginning of the story, works as an IT in the same company of the salaryman. He happens to be there when the salarymen is killed, and in a gesture of suicidal generosity, tries in vain to save him, remaining involved.

    This story take inspiration from the manga, from the light novel or from the anime?

    Mainly from the anime, although I do not rule out possibly canon foreigners from both the light novel and the manga.

    How often do you post?

    The first four chapters (prologue included) will be posted daily. After that, I will take three days off to analyse the feedback and determinate the course of the fic. Then, I will try and keep this story updated weekly.

    Your Story will deviate from canon? And how?

    I am actually trying to keep the story as true to the original. However, I will try to expand the existing universe either by importing characters or situation or by adding them of my own. Still, I will try to maintain a level of realism and consistency as high as possible.

    Moreover, from a certain point the story will diverge from the canon path to take a new one. This means that, from that point on, the story will become completely AU.

    So the Story will cover events happened after the ending of the anime?

    Yeah. I already have plans for how to keep it running. This means that the story will be very, very long. Help me.​

    If I have ideas for your story, can I tell you?

    Absolutely yes! I am always open to discussion and new ideas for the story.

    What to do in the event of an error

    I am not a natural-born English speaker or writer. I have learned most of it by reading fanfiction and the rest at school. Therefore, it can happen that I make mistakes. Feel free to inform me about any spelling, grammar or continuity errors you see, either by posting or through PM.

    Important necessary disclaimer

    The views expressed by a character or by characters in this story do not necessarily reflect those of the author. There are no author mouthpiece characters, only individuals with their own perspectives and opinions.
    ​
    ​

    Chapter List

    Season 1     ​
    Season 2 ​

    The Characters of Youjo Senki's World - External Viewpoints​
    Omakes​

    Prologue: The day I told God off

    Tokyo, Japan
    23 September 2013 AD    ​

    Everything had gone smoothly that day. I had got up early in the morning, strictly at 5:30 am, as my alarm clock had not been slow to remind me. I had opened the fridge, and had had an abundant breakfast, in order to give myself the energy necessary to manage the long day of work.

    Then, when I had finished eating, I had headed for the wardrobe, and put my suit. I had dressed calmly, in front of the wardrobe mirror, and while I was fastening my cuffs, I was humming in my head the music that flowed from the radio into my apartment.

    Once dressed, I sat on my bed (placed in front of the wardrobe of clothes) and put on my shoes. It may not seem like it, but I am very proud of my work shoes. They were one of the first purchases I had made when I arrived in Japan, I put them on the day I did my interview for my current job, and since then they have become a lucky charm for me.

    Once I put my shoes on, I got up and walked quickly to the window, where my briefcase was placed. I opened it and mentally checked to have everything I needed for the day, after which I closed it and walked towards the door.

    Before leaving, I looked warmly to the apartment where I lived. It was not very large, and frankly, I could have done without the huge neon sign placed right in front of the window, but it was still home. It was a place where I could truly be myself, free of the judgments and opinions of the outside world. A protected oasis, just for me.

    "My beautiful house" I said gazing over it "Let nobody take you away from me…"

    Then I closed the door, and the house stood empty.
    ​

    It was three years now that I had been living in Japan. When I had arrived for the first time from Europe, I remember being very disoriented and confused before such a strange land. At that time, I would never have believed that I would have come to consider this place my homeland.

    Yet, here I was, three years later, a young Westerner fully integrated in the Japanese business world, perfectly able to read the language, as well as to speak it, and not having to depend on western ethnic food to feed myself.

    This does not mean that I had completely forgotten my roots: once a week I would go to the bank to make a transfer of money to my family, who had remained in Europe, for their needs and for my grandmother's nursing care. In addition, once a month I would travel by plane to visit my family, which they always welcomed with happiness and joy. Although my choice of moving to Japan had not gone down well, over time they had stopped begging me to go back to Europe and had accepted my decision.

    The only thing they had not accepted yet was my life as a single. Every time we talked, somehow, the topic would come up, and they constantly asked me about my romantic and sentimental situation. Personally, I was not yet ready to look for a girlfriend: my plans for the future expected me to concentrate on my work, to cement my position in the company.

    This choice was not only due to personal reasons: recently the company where I was working had started a very fierce policy of staff cuts, and the idea of being fired or reprimanded because I had not managed to achieve the goals set was not pleasant.

    These were hard times, but also full of opportunities. If I could prove my qualities at the right time, I might be able to improve my job position relatively easily, without struggling for power.

    The best way to do it.
    ​

    In a big company like the one where I worked, it was very important to always do your best. For this reason, I had set my alarm clock in such a way as to be able to be in the workplace slightly earlier. An employee who arrives in advance by definition is never late, and an employee who is never late has less chance of being noticed by a HR manager.

    Once I entered, I immediately started to work hard to start the day in the most productive way possible. A very important skill at work is to be organized, and that is why I always did things in exactly the same order every day. In this way, if I was not sure whether or not I had completed a particular operation, I could check it without having to interrupt the current task.

    Another strategy that I used strongly was towards my work colleagues, to win them over and to minimize my opposition. To achieve this, I bought everyone a cup of coffee. It was amazing how a good morning coffee could change people. I made extensive use of it: I knew my colleagues' preferences by heart, as well as if they preferred their coffee with milk, sugar or cream.

    I was just heading for the coffee machine when, without wanting it, I passed the office of the Human Resources Manager. I know I should not have heard what he was actually saying, but unfortunately, I had a bad habit of listening to anything that happens around me.

    Inside the HR office, there was a fellow colleague of mine, Kuwahara Shoda, sitting on the chair right in front of the manager. I already knew why he was there: Shoda had already been called several times because he had been absent from work without permission, and he had ignored several company warnings to improve his work. And evidently, the manager had noticed it.

    "What reason does the company have to continue employing you?" the manager asked to Shoda, his words cold as ice.

    With those words, I realized that Shoda was condemned. There was nothing I could do for him, if I did not want to lose my job either.

    "W-wait a second… Please!" Shoda said, still incredulous about what was happening.

    The manager took out something from underneath and put it on the table, so that Shoda took it.

    "Please leave."

    It was then that I realized that if they had found out that I was spying on the conversation, I would have had the end of Shoda too. So I reached the machine as quietly as possible, and I stood with my back to the office, trying to appear ignorant of what was going on behind me.

    It did not take long. Shoda came out of the office crying, his eyes wet with tears. In silence, he walked over to his old post, to take what was his before leaving for the last time.

    Many people would have felt pity, even sympathy for Shoda. After all, he was a family man; he had a wife and a daughter, both of whom were dependent on him for their upkeep

    Not me.

    The working world was a ruthless place, similar to the ferocity of a tank full of piranhas. Eat or being eaten, this was the rule. It was natural that those who were not able to play their part were devoured. Worse, I did not think his family was an excuse to keep him: if he really knew how important his work was, why did he not tried to improve himself?

    I shrugged, and devoted myself to the coffee making.
    ​

    The clock ran slowly, but the end of the workday arrived and we were free to go home. Since I had not yet earned enough money for the purchase of a private vehicle, I headed for the station to catch the train. Usually, if the day had been good enough, I would stop at the station's bookstore to see if I could find any books that might arouse my interest. Today, however, I did not want new books.

    I tapped my card on the scanner and rushed in, starting to wait for the train with extreme impatience. Personally, I hoped to be in a good position to allow myself to be among the first to enter the carriage, so that I could more easily find a free seat. However, evidently someone else had also made my own reasoning, because while I bending my head forward to see the approaching train, I felt someone touching my left shoulder.

    I looked to the left, and I realized with my great surprise that it was the HR Manager that had fired Shoda. He was reading a book with yellow cover with the title "Freedom of Choice". He seemed not to have noticed me, at least for the moment.

    Instinctively, I wondered if it would be advisable to call his attention. Greeting a superior out of office hours could earn me points for my charisma and my kindness. However, if I had done it the wrong way, I could have risked to make it clear that my kindness was not sincere. I had to find the right phrase to start the conversation.

    Then it happened.

    I did not know how, but Shoda was there. Perhaps he had found himself there by chance, or he had followed the manager secretly when he had left work. In any case, he was still dressed in his work clothes, a sign that he had not returned home as we had expected.

    He waited for the train to be close enough, he put himself right behind the manager, and pushed him with both hands off the platform and onto the tracks, right into the path of the upcoming train, shocking everyone present of his blatant murder in full sight of dozens of people.

    I did not remember what I thought in those brief moments, I just remembered that I reached out and grabbed the manager, trying desperately to save him. But it was impossible for me, a young adult who had never done gym, to stop an adult man from falling against all the forces of gravity.

    Within seconds, the manager's weight had pulled me too, leading me straight into the train's trajectory. I saw the train driver's eyes open with surprise as he saw two men finishing in his path, too close for him to stop in time.

    In those brief second before being hit by the train and dying, I wondered if my last, desperate act of goodwill would have earned me a place in Heaven.

    Then, the time stopped.
    ​

    I was still there. In the station. Stopped in midair, in the middle of the track. The manager under me. Shoda on the platform, behind us. The train, on our right, ready to crush us once time started moving again.

    "What? What happened?" I heard from below me.

    "Sir, are you ok?" I said back, making his eyes focus on me.

    "I…know you?"

    "Yes! We work in the same company!"

    "You mean you are…"

    "I'm getting tired of this" said a man suddenly behind Shoda, on the platform.

    "Huh?" we both said as we focused on him.

    "Humans these days have no sense of right and wrong," said a woman with a cellphone, looking in our direction

    "They've strayed too far from the laws of the universe" this time a man with a strange beret and glasses spoke.

    "What are they saying?" the manager told.

    "What's happening?" I asked timorously.

    "They have no ability to empathize with others," said a tall girl with red hairs.

    It was evident that someone (or something) was speaking through their mouths. Probably, the same being who had stopped time a second before the train turned us both into hamburgers meat.

    "And not a trace of faith in their Creator" this time was a pigeon to talk.

    "The Creator?" the manager asked.

    "Indeed" said the train driver.

    "I see. So I am to understand that the being known as «God» has stopped time in the moments before mine and this young man's death, appearing as people around us?" the manager said.

    I did not say anything. I was too afraid to say even one word.

    "Indeed" said the pigeon back.

    "Ok. Listen, I'm sorry to say this after you came all the way down here, but I reject God's existence, from both realistic and rational perspectives," the manager said

    "What?"/"What?" I said, along with five other people.

    "Thinking logically" the manager started back "only God and the Devil could exist beyond our knowledge of the world. But, hypothetically, if God were to exist, he would never let this absurdity happen. In other words, you must be…"

    "The devil?" a cute high-school girl said.

    "Or perhaps something similar, which we could call «Being X»"

    The high schooler frowned. Whoever was controlling it at that moment, should not have liked such a reasoning.

    "Apparently, you truly do lack faith" her mouth was moving again.

    "It's senseless to start lecturing me on faith," the manager said, still motionless "If a thing like this is going to happen, you need to submit the details to me in advance and in writing"

    I was stunned. I did not know if I should have been afraid for my manager (because he was clearly challenging something bigger than he was) or felt respect for him (because managed to get God in a circular argument).

    "I am that which returns people to the wheel of reincarnation, initiating rebirth." said a young boy who was clapping his hand with a friend "But I shall make an exception for you"

    "The wheel of reincarnation?" the manager asked, "You're saying that you cause people to be reborn?"

    "That is no longer your concern," said another man.

    "Are you unfamiliar with the concept of «duty of disclosure»?" the manager responded "And if you claim to be God, you should try to put more thoughts into your decisions"

    "Administering seven billion people is already beyond my capacity" said a man looking at his watch.

    "Reincarnating people without faith is a waste of my time" another man continued.

    "Overwork is the sign of a failed business model," the manager responded, "You failed to sufficiently analyze consumer consciousness. In a world with advanced science, where one's need are met, there will be no faith."

    I was stunned. I was amazed. This manager was openly criticizing God. And he was winning.

    "And you, young man?"     said the train driver looking at me.

    "Me… what?" I asked.

    "What's your opinion about this heathen's rambling?" the high schooler said.

    "Well, I don't think I have the authority to judge anyone" I said, trying to calm the waters "Also, I do not think I can say to anyone he must convert to something he does not really believe in. There is freedom of worship! And even atheists have the full right to exist!"

    The high schooler frowned again. That was when I realized my speech had backfired.

    "Your faith and devotion in me is very weak. You are not a true believer" another woman said.

    "Sorry, but where do you think you are? in the Middle Ages? At the time of the Inquisition?" now it was my turn to argue with the alleged divinity "Times have changed. Do not they teach it in catechism now that we must respect the beliefs of others?"

    "As a human born and baptized in my name, you must have faith in you God and defend it" said the pigeon.

    "As a human who had the privilege of studying, I surely will respect the freedom of choice that we, as humans, receive the day we are born. And if I can afford it, a god who is not able to defend himself even in words is pathetic!"

    "Good point, young man" said the manager "You must realize it: only the weak, when they are in dire straits, cling to someone. Someone like me, or like this boy over here, would never do that."

    "So, basically, your lack of faith is because," said a baby in a baby-carriage.

    "you live in a world where needs are met, science is advanced" said a boy looking at his telephone.

    "you have a strong social position" said a side of beef.

    "and you are not in dire straits?" said a dog in a cage.

    "Huh?" the manager said "W-wait a second! I think you may be jumping at the conclusions." It was the first time I saw him scared, and seeing his fear made me scared too.

    "If I put you?" said the tall girl of before.

    "into the «dire straits»" said the watch-watching man.

    "you speak of" said the train driver.

    "your faith" said the first man.

    "will awaken?" said the pigeon.

    "C-calm down!" the manager said, clearly scared "I don't intend to break any rules!"

    "And you" said the baby.

    "young man" said the dog.

    "since you" said the high-schooler.

    "defended him" said the man with glasses.

    "maybe" said an old lady.

    "you need" said the train driver.

    "the same" said Shoda.

    "as well?" said the pigeon.

    "Hey! This is not fair! I was just trying to calm the situation!" I protested.

    "TRY TO LIVE AS LONG AS YOU CAN. IF YOU WILL DIE AGAIN, THERE WILL BE NO SECOND REINCARNATION, FOR BOTH OF YOU." everybody said concurrently.

    "W-wait…" the manager said

    "This is not fair! This is not…" I said.

    And then time started running again, and we both were hit by the train.​
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • The world need more good Youjo Senki fics. Right now I could count them on my fingers and still have some left, and that's sad
     
    Nazi Loli gril boi vs Captain CAPITALISM!

    -edit- Just looked at the fic pic, is actually Nazi gril boi and Nazi boi. Whoops

    Also watched
     
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    <nerd voice>Actually...</nerd voice> its "Imperial Loli gril boi & Imperial boi".
    seeing as YS starts before or at the beginning of Alt-WWI.
     
    Chapter 1: Life is (not) a miracle
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 1: Life is (not) a miracle​

    The Empire
    24 September, Unified Year 1913
    ​
    The first thing I felt when I regained consciousness was a baby's cry. A newborn, judging by the sound of his voice.

    Mentally, I wondered what had happened, where I was and when. Perhaps the time that had stopped and the dialogue with God had been all a hallucination. Perhaps I survived, and now I was in a hospital to treat my wounds. If so, I was hoping not to have lost something important (like a limb) in the act of being run over by the train.

    I tried to remember with greater precision what had happened, but I could not do it. My mind felt confused, in such a way that I had never felt. I tried to open my eyes and move myself, but somehow all I could see were shades of color and my muscles did not respond to my commands.

    Now I was scared.

    Perhaps, in being run over by train, my body had been damaged beyond its ability to heal. Would I be condemned to live in a bed and feed myself intravenously for the rest of my life? I tried to scream, but my own tongue betrayed me, refusing to move as I wanted.

    "Sh-sh-sh-sh, little Frederick. You do not want to start crying too?" said the voice of an old, kind woman which I did not recognized. Nor did I recognize the name she had said.

    I tried once again to open my mouth, to cry for help. In vain. Somehow, I had forgotten how to speak.

    "Sister, please take care of our little prince while I feed little Tanya" the woman of before said.

    "Yes sister," said another female voice, apparently younger.

    Trying to understand what was going on around me, I tried to move my head to the right. It was then that I saw the mirror. My vision had cleared, so I had no trouble recognizing the figures in the reflection.

    A nun in a black and gray dress was holding a baby in her arms, and she looked at him with a protective look. The baby was dressed into a yellow baby dress, and he looked in the direction of the mirror with a curious expression. I took a closer look. The child had a very pale complexion, with green eyes and a tuft of black hair. And kept looking in the mirror.

    It was then that I realized what had really happened. Now everything made sense: that child... it was me!

    No, it could not be. I could not really be reincarnated in a child's body! I was an adult! I was a man on the road to earn his place in the company. They could not bring me back to life a few months old!

    But the truth was before my eyes. I had returned to before my degree, before school, before I could read and write, and even before I was potty-trained. I would have to start my life back from scratch, and it was not a good thought. Worse, if ...

    Before I could complete my reasoning, I felt something enter my mouth. Looking at the nun, I realized it was a spoon. She was feeding me like a baby! And I could not resist. The nun kept filling the spoon of food and feeding me, and I would be lying if I said that the experience was the most humiliating thing I had ever suffered.

    "Sh, little Frederick, no need to cry right now" the younger nun said.

    But I was not listening.

    ​
    The Empire, Unified Year 1913-1918
    ​
    The next five years were not hard. They were much more than hard.

    Being an adult in the body of a newly born child was a disgusting and humiliating experience. And it was even more that I did not have full control over my own body and my mental abilities. For the next four years, the most appropriate definition to define my new life was "retro-infantilist nightmare"

    Every day, the nuns made us get up at dawn. The first activity of the morning was a half an hour of prayer dedicated to God: some boys took turns reading pieces of sacred texts, others did the chorus and the rest remained listening in silence. Those who read the sacred texts were the most favored in terms of food and pampering, but this attitude of "collaborationism" invariably created feelings of envy and resentment in the other boys, who for this reason often did not want to have anything to do with the readers of sacred texts, who therefore formed a separate group.

    Much better was to be part of the choir: they also received better bread, but in return they were much more accepted than the readers and could hope to play with other children. The problem was that the choir was a group of elite: only those who had the sweetest and most melodious voices could access it. An old nun in a black dress, Sister Liesel, was running the chorus, and no child could hope to be part of it without first letting her hear their own voice. Many were those who tried, and many of them were rejected. I did not even try: I knew when something was out of my reach.

    After the morning prayers, we all had breakfast together. Each of us was given a piece of black bread, and to drink we had to share the little water available in the carafes. The nuns ate on a very long table, and the privileged children ate with them. Being able to have lunch with the nuns was not just a way to show one's degree of privilege. It also meant being able to have lunch in complete safety, away from the small thefts and quarrels that invariably took place at the other tables. I can assure you that it is not nice being distracted for a second and then discover that others have stolen your whole portion. I know it from personal experience.

    After breakfast, the sisters began their daily activities of "Ora et Labora", while we children had lessons under the watchful guidance of Sister Nora, our teacher. The lessons were long and heavy, yet none of us was distracted or escaped from the lesson. The reason was to be found in the heavy wand with which Sister Nora was pleased to give us "incentives" to study through strikes on the arms or the bottom. As before, I know it from personal experience.

    The lessons lasted on average throughout the morning, until lunchtime arrived. Naturally, before we could eat we had to intonate a deep prayer of thanks to God our Lord, as thanks for making sure we could eat. Personally, I did not see how it was possible to thank someone who made sure that we always had soup with sawdust flavoring, but I kept my mouth shut.

    After lunch, the afternoon was dedicated to the leisure time: the children were left free to play in the halls of the orphanage, or outside, in the neighboring meadow. I never went out: apart from the fact that, as an adult in a child's body, the games of other children did not attract me, I knew all too well the main functions of a courtyard of a structure dedicated to welcoming young human beings.

    It was there that gathered the strongest, most violent and overbearing individuals of the orphanage. Those who lived thanks to their ability to instill fear in others. Most of them were part of the older boys, those who had been repeatedly reprimanded (even physically) by the nuns for misbehavior. Not that this stopped them: as soon as the nuns turned their gaze away, the bullying began again.

    Being a bully was not a bad position. It gave you extra food, and if you knew how to intimidate your victims in the right way, nobody would ever know about your bullying. However, I was out since the start: obviously the Being X had a distorted sense of humor, because the body in which he had reincarnated me was too sweet and cute to intimidate someone. It was impossible for me to be accepted by the other bullies as one of them: At best, they would have laughed at me, at worst ... best not think about it.

    Finally, when the sun went down and the sky turned red, the nuns let us come back for dinner. Obviously, this was usually boiled vegetable soup. It was not a good thing to get in the front of the queue: you only had water. Near the end was sometimes better, because the solid things were at the bottom. However, it was also a risk, because often they ran out before everyone was served. Moreover, if you dropped your soup on the floor, or someone else spilled it, you would not be given any more portions. There were often fights for this exact reason.

    After dinner, the nuns gave the order to go to bed. Impossible to disobey: only a ghost could have avoided the curfew patrols, as well as the bolt at the dormitory doors. Rather it was better to hope that someone, taking advantage of you sleeping, would not play a prank only to be discovered in the morning. A good strategy to avoid this was to fall asleep last, when you were sure that everyone had already fallen asleep, and wake up first when the rooster was singing at dawn.

    But it was impossible to distinguish between those who really slept and those who only pretended.
    ​

    There was only one hope for an orphaned boy to improve his social status: to be adopted.

    Every so often at the orphanage came single adults, young couples without children or unable to have them naturally, all united by the desire to have one. For a child without parents, orphaned and without love, being adopted was like winning the lottery. Being adopted guaranteed you family, hot meals, a warm bed and lastly a general improving in our life condition.

    On the other hand, the improvement of our social conditions was relative, because the new world in which I was reborn was not exactly an Eden.

    Apparently, it was very similar to the geopolitical situation before the First World War of my previous world. The orphanage in which I lived was in the suburbs of the capital of the nation known as «the Empire». Its territories border contained the Germany, the Denmark, a piece of Sweden, the Netherlands (with Belgium and Luxemburg), and then a big piece where, in my world, existed the East Europe.

    A real great central European power, recognized by many. And for this, with many enemies.

    For this reason, and in line with the logic of the time, the Empire was a militant nation that invested considerable resources into its military even when not at war. Many were serving in the army, either as volunteers or as conscripts. Others worked in war factories, or in forges, or in coal and iron mines to support production. I had never seen a coalmine before, but I knew there were children working there too. It was logical if you thought about it: there were no conventions or laws in favor of minors, and for this reason, child labor was still a reality.

    Many orphan children ended up working in the mines. The owners of these infernal places were among the most frequent visitors of the orphanage, looking for new workers. They were mostly looking for strong and robust children, who could withstand 14-hour shifts without dying from fatigue.

    From this fate, until now my pretty face had protected me. The owners of mines and factories did not want their workers to be beautiful, and therefore, until I volunteered myself, I was sure on that front.

    Moreover, I was facilitated from another.

    A pretty face not only is a deterrent for men looking for little slaves to work as mules, but it has a marvelous effect on couples looking for children to adopt.

    One day I discovered that a couple of young citizens who were not able to have children came to the orphanage in search of a child to be adopted. Of course, I did not know all this. I discovered it only when one of the nuns came to take me in the office of the mother superior.

    When I entered the room, I found myself facing the following scene: The mother superior was seated in her place, and smiled. Sitting in front of her were a woman in a green dress and a man in a gray suit, who turned as soon as the door, creaking, betrayed my presence. The woman looked at me with eyes full of excitement, while the man looked at me with admiring glances. Never had they seen such a cute child.

    "Oooh, but he's adorable!" said the woman touching my hairs "Hello little boy, what's your name?"

    "F-Frederick. Frederick König" I said, trying to stay calm.

    "A boy so beautiful is certainly a rarity," said the man, smiling.

    That was enough. In less than half an hour, the two adults had filled in and signed the documents for my adoption. They could not take me away with them right away, but within a week, I would be theirs.
    ​

    For a few days, I was happy. I thought I could finally leave the orphanage and start a new life somewhere, with parents who would love me and take care of me

    Sadly, it was too good to be true.

    It had been four days since the couple had come to visit the orphanage, that the nuns received an urgent message. Apparently, during the journey back to the capital, the car on which the couple traveled went off the road, crashing into a tree. Both had died in the accident and their family members did not want to adopt a twice-orphaned child.

    Therefore, my hope of leaving was gone. I would hardly have found another couple willing to adopt me.

    I was in the dorm when Sister Anna came to tell me the bad news. No matter how much he tried to soften the bad news, it was a conviction for me

    Without meaning to, I turned my thoughts on «Being X» and its damn reincarnation. He promised to put me in dire straits, and until now, he seemed to have kept his promise. Being adopted and returning orphaned in less than a week was a real record. If I had been a common child, I probably would have had a nervous breakdown.

    I was so busy in my thoughts that I did not notice the figure behind me.

    "Eh-ehm!" someone cleared her throat.

    I turned quickly. Behind me there was a girl about my age. She was very pretty, her vivid icy blue eyes were huge and her blond hair had a hint of gray in it. She looked almost like a princess in a fairy tale, not an abandoned orphan.

    "Yes?" I said still thinking about my bad luck "What do you want?"

    "Satisfy my curiosity: is there any chance that you are a young boy who has been reincarnated?"

    I gulped, looking at her with an amazed look, before realizing who was in front of me.

    "Sir?" I said chuckling innocently.

    She nodded.
    ​

    Apparently for a long time the manager (now Tanya Degurechaff, a little blond-haired orphan girl) had been watching me. I had also hypothesized that he could be in the orphanage, but I had not considered that «Being X» could have changed his gender as well. Therefore, I was not prepared for it.

    We were alone, and we talked in a low voice about what had happened to us. And on what we would do.

    "Our prospects for advancement if we remain here are poor," Tanya said, looking on the floor.

    "I agree. The food is terrible, and the beds are uncomfortable. Moreover, I do not know how to bad-rate it" I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

    The next thing I knew, she punched me on my side "I am being serious! Maybe you did not realize it, but things are about to go worse than this!"

    "Worse?" I asked incredulous "We have been reincarnated in the bodies of two orphans. We have no home, no family, no means to feed ourselves. We will probably be forced to live in horrible living conditions and our future, without the possibility to develop our education, is bleak. How could it be worse?"

    "War" she said without batting an eye. Okay, that is worse.

    "Have you realized or not that since some time, the nuns have been worried about bread prices?" she continued "And that they are preparing to host a larger number of children? In your opinion, why?"

    It was then that I realized that Tanya was right. After all, we lived in the world where the great powers became increasingly hungry for resources, and where patriotism and nationalism were more common than colds.

    "Damn" I said while the reality of the situation hit me as hard as the train that ended my previous life "What are we going to do? Defenseless orphans do not last long in war!"

    "You realized it," said Tanya in a snarky tone "It is probable that we will only be able to rely on our strengths and our abilities"

    "Wait" I said, still holding a little hope "Maybe we will find a couple of generous hosting parents, and they…"

    "Will take us?" Tanya ended my sentence, "With a war on its way, it is improbable that someone decides to adopt other mouths to feed. On the contrary, it is likely that this place will get more crowded"

    I groaned. It was the second time she was right. This meant that it was better for me to think what I was going to say more carefully.

    "This is all Being X's fault!" said Tanya, suddenly furious "He was the one to put us in these bodies in this wrecked world! I'll prove it to him, I'll survive, and I'll…"

    I put my hand over her shoulder, drawing her attention.

    "How about focusing more on our immediate future?" I said, "If it's like you say, would not it be better to think about how to make a living than about how to take revenge? In addition, I do not think that challenging someone so powerful is a good idea, for now".

    "Do not tell me you really believe that he is God," she said almost spitting the word «God».

    "I believe in God, but Being X is not my God" I said, exhaling rage "The true God would never have been so arrogant and intransigent!"

    And for the first time since I knew her, Tanya laughed.​
     
  • Threadmarks
    • The only thing more audacious than denying God is excommunicating him.

    And he probably deserves it, being so stupid as to let the two reincarnatees be aware of each other. That's a new take on Youjo Senki as far as I know.
     
    Trunko said:
    "I believe in God, but Being X is not my God" I said, exhaling rage "The true God would never have been so arrogant and intransigent!"
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    I mean, true, God is a hardcore deity, he woudn't do punishment in this roundabout way. What X putting them through is more on the same page with old pagan patheons. Which type of Being X you use, by the way, manga, novel or anime?
     
    Let's hear it for banding together in the face of adversity. This should get fun, and I loved the comment about ex-communicating god that @JuliusClonkus made.

    I also have to say, killing off your adoptive guardians was a cruel stroke.

    So, now what can be done I wonder with two of you rather than Tanya, isolated and alone.
     
    Trunko said:
    "The true God would never have been so arrogant and intransigent!"
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    The one thing I hate most about people that talk about "The true God" is that. WHY in the world would The True God give ANY fucks about a single being?

    If they are The True God that been here since the Start and will be here at the End why would they give any shit about any being that worships them or anything at all? Hell the best version of The True God I have seen was the analogy that it is like an Old Man sitting on his front porch in his rocker looking at his lawn and anything that passes his line of sight. The only thing that catches his attention like parts of his lawn turning brown or an ant hill that is starting to get too big and started covering up more grass than it should.
     
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