I've Tried Going Back to Life After Dying - Chapter 6

Peering out the carriage window, I recalled passing through this area just yesterday.

Finding the differences between the recent scenery in my memory and the landscape before me was unexpectedly enjoyable.

Even if my second academy life would likely be dull, it was fortunate that I could find amusement in the carriage rides to and from school.

In my previous life, I had no reason to take Academy Avenue, so until yesterday, the streets Hildegard knew best were those of the financial and government districts.

When the Royal Library came into view, its elegant architecture made me happy as if I had finally encountered something unchanged.

The carriage stopped in front of the academy.

“Ugh, how tedious. Attending school twice it feels like I’ve been held back,” I grumbled as I stepped down, my knees easily absorbing the impact.

Huh? That was oddly comfortable.

Curious, Hildegard tried a little hop right there on the spot.

“Y-Young Lady?”

The coachman sounded flustered at her sudden action.

“Oh, forgive me. I just found it amusing that my body could handle the impact without any pain.”

Flashing a coy upward glance, one she hadn’t used in over twenty years she watched the coachman blink rapidly in surprise.

Heh, how amusing. I wonder what I was like in this world before yesterday.

Even though I’ve lived this life before, my recent memories have overwritten so much that I’ve forgotten entire chunks of my teenage years supposedly the most radiant time of one’s life.

The academy’s entrance hall was filled with familiar faces. Of course, they were all young now.

Among them were those who, like my husband, had met early ends due to illness or accidents.

Illness was one thing, but if it was an accident, perhaps I could give a warning disguised as advice and prevent it.

But Hildegard had no intention of doing so.

Meddling with life and death that was the domain of the gods.

So even though Lauren stood alive before her now, she felt no urge to prolong his life beyond the decade he had left.

Since I’ve been given this second chance after death, the best I can do is make use of the knowledge I gained in my previous life.

“Though, there’s nothing for me to do at the moment.”

Last night, as she lay in bed, she recalled the two reasons she had wished to return from death.

One was to avoid marrying her husband. The other was to walk beside Lauren through every moment of his remaining life.

Even now, she hadn’t forgotten the memory of Lauren’s final moments and it was not something that made her want to prolong his life.

Lauren, his once-white hands now frail and thin, had squeezed Hildegard’s fingers and said:

“Sister, I had a rather enjoyable life. A happy one, living with Father, Mother, and you. Even this room, where I just lie still, and the academy days I spent lying in the infirmary I found joy in them, in my own way. If I’m born again, I’ll be a different person and live a different life. So don’t cry.”

Gasping weakly between words, he had added:

“Though I’d still like to be part of your family again.”

Lauren hadn’t wanted his life extended. He had been waiting for rebirth.

He had looked forward to living anew, with a different name and body in another life.

So, what Hildegard could do wasn’t to control Lauren’s fate but to live each of the next ten years by his side.

“Good morning, Hildegard.”

The first voice from outside her family in this life. Ah, how nostalgic—his youthful tone. The thought struck her because she had seen him just yesterday.

At her husband’s funeral, he had offered condolences. Since they were the same age, his voice had been deeper then, more worn.

“Atrey. Not ‘thank you for yesterday’—just ‘good morning.’”

She nearly slipped up, almost thanking him for his mourning words.

Right, right. Atrey was her age. Why had she forgotten they would meet here? Just earlier, she had been devouring the cookies he and her uncle brought during their visit.

Pausing, Hildegard suddenly felt a wave of nostalgia.

Ah, Atrey. You’re young too. Even with crow’s feet, you were dashing but in your teens? Oh my. That handsome face of yours must have broken hearts.

Your golden hair and amber eyes, inherited from your aunt, looked just like yesterday’s yet not quite the same.

“You look absolutely dashing, Atrey.”

The thought slipped out before she could stop it.

“Eh?”

Atrey looked bewildered. Oops. She clapped a hand over her mouth. Some things never change, careless words are always trouble.

“Being complimented by you first thing in the morning—I’m honored.”

“Heh, you really are Atrey. That humor is so like you.”

She had meant to watch her tongue, but the moment she spoke, she messed up again. Seeing Atrey as a young man made her feel oddly maternal, leading to unnecessary remarks.

As they walked side by side down the hall, she desperately racked her brain. Where was her classroom again? Digging through memories from twenty-five years ago when—

“Your ribbon. It’s cute.”

“Oh!”

Atrey had complimented the ribbon in her hair.

This was just like him. Observant, easygoing, pleasant to talk to. And after Lauren’s passing, he had selflessly entered her family as an adopted heir.

Then it hit her.

Right in this life, Atrey doesn’t need to be adopted. Hildegard won’t marry into another house; she’ll remain in her family home.

So—

“You should find yourself a lovely young lady and become her groom instead.”

Right in the middle of the academy hallway, the thought tumbled out unfiltered.

Atrey blinked at her in surprise.

Even his startled expression had a refreshing charm to it, and Hildegard couldn’t help but break into a smile.