5
—A gloomy silence had fallen over the shelter.
“ ”
The air was filled with faint, stifled sobs and the restless rustling of people unable to hold still.
A girl hugged her knees and looked down as she heard those noises unpleasantly breaking the silence.
She was a small girl with blond hair. Resting her chin on her white knees, she drew closer to the weight beside her—the young boy leaning against her left shoulder. He was her younger brother and had been sobbing just moments earlier. Now he was exhausted and had slipped into a fitful slumber.
She started to caress her brother’s head, but she paused, afraid of waking him up. She was sure that if he could sleep, then it would be better for him to get some rest. Staring into her brother’s tearstained face, she prayed that he could at least find peace in his dreams, because the world outside of dreams was far too cruel for her brother, who was still so young.
It had been half a day since the broadcast announcing that the control towers for Pristella’s floodgates had been captured. She and her brother had been out in the city plaza that morning when they heard the announcement. The announcement itself had been hard to believe, and the voice making the proclamation had sounded almost like it was chanting a hideous curse. Scared for their parents, the girl had taken her frightened little brother by the hand and fled to a nearby shelter with the adults in the plaza.
Faced with the unexpected, they had done as they had always been told and sought shelter. That was the result of the instructions that were broadcast every morning. If she was being honest, the little girl never really listened closely to anything in the morning broadcasts other than the Songstress’s singing, but she was astonished at the adults’ foresight and planning.
But everything that had happened after they had fled to the shelters had been too unpredictable even for the adults.
—The appearance of the Witch Cult. Occupation of the control towers. Cryptic threats and demands and then the flooding that came not long after.
The vicious woman’s voice had riled up unease and hatred in the hearts of all the people cowering in the shelters. Her unbearable voice and unsettling words had been more than powerful enough to sink the whole city into despair.
They were locked away in a gloomy shelter with no way to contact anyone outside. There were no signs of anything getting better, and one of the floodgates had even been opened for a second, forcing them to hear the sound of all that water crashing over the city.
The shelters had originally been constructed as a countermeasure against intermittent flooding, so there had not been many injuries or deaths due to the earlier flood—but that meant very little to the people still cowering in fear.
The voices that had encouraged everyone at first had gradually weakened and then started to grow uneasy and angry at the silence, and before long there had been people making no effort to hide their rage, which had spread, creating a mood of aimless disagreement and annoyance, becoming a silent madness that scratched at everyone, spreading everywhere like wildfire.
And then the flooding had snapped the last thread of their nerves, bringing on the collapse. A swelling, violent mood filled the air, a dangerous atmosphere that could quickly devolve from people glaring at one another to their yelling at one another to their hurting one another to their even killing one another, all with just a single spark.
“Agh.”
The only reason it had not exploded yet was that right as their nerves were strained to their limit, the girl’s little brother had started crying.
The seething adults had still had the good sense and pride not to be violent in front of a sobbing child.
—But even then, they had come dangerously close to the edge.
In the end, though, the explosion had been delayed by her brother’s crying. And the girl had cried softly as she patted her brother’s head, hugging him from behind. After that, there had been no more quarrels in their shelter. But that was only holding thanks to a fragile equilibrium. Everyone knew it was just a temporary respite.
If another buildup began, a child’s tears would not be enough to keep the peace. And because they knew that, the people in the shelter who should have been working together were all staying away from one another, trying to protect themselves by not provoking anyone else.
For their own sakes—for everyone else’s sake, it was best for everyone to not draw any unwanted attention, to remain apart and isolated. They waited for time to pass, desperation on their faces. Trusting themselves to the faint, fragile hope that something, anything might get better.
“ ”
The girl suddenly looked up, noticing an omen of that change.
Waiting quietly, eagerly for news of any development, the girl noticed a slight change in the air.
Several people around her looked up for the first time in hours, too, noticing the same thing she had. It was a familiar feeling to anyone living in Pristella. The precursor of a broadcast by the metia at city hall.
Sensing that, the girl tensed, holding back the urge to vomit welling in her throat as best she could.
She had wanted a change, but she’d meant a change for the better. A broadcast could only mean the terrifying Witch Cult was about to say something again.
What new impossibility would that earsplitting voice demand of the city while spewing so much bile?
But the girl’s—the people’s—pessimistic prediction was—
“—Um, can everyone actually hear me through this? Mic test, mic test. One, two. One, two.”
—turned on its head by the voice of a young man who sounded almost like he was playing around.
“ ”
Unlike in the last two broadcasts, this was the voice of a boy who sounded unsure of himself. Not the familiar, famous man from the daily broadcasts or the boisterous Songstress—this was a voice she had never heard before.
The girl’s eyes widened, and so did the adults’ as they glanced at one another, wondering what was happening.
But not noticing their reactions, the boy spoke several more times, making sure that his voice was heard by everyone across the entire city, before finally clearing his throat once he was confident it was working. And then—
“It looks like this is actually broadcasting, then. First of all, let me apologize for surprising you. I imagine a lot of you were worried or steeling yourself wondering what you would be told next. But please don’t worry. I’m not a member of the Witch Cult.”
“…It’s not the Witch Cult…”
The volume of the boy’s voice was wavering slightly as he used a metia he had never handled before. But the shock at what he was saying easily outweighed that, and no one bothered dwelling on that small point. The people’s gloomy expressions started to change as they looked up at the broadcast echoing down from on high.
“A-are we…saved?” someone murmured, as the faint seed of hope they had been holding on to started to grow.
The hope conveyed by that murmur spread to the whole shelter—to the whole city.
It was natural. If someone who was not a cultist was using the metia at city hall, then that meant that someone had to have taken back the building from the invaders. If there was someone who could reconquer city hall, then they could seize the control towers, too—
“Run all of those hooligans out of here…!”
“And I’m sorry for getting your hopes up, but the cultists are not gone yet. We’ve taken back city hall, but they still hold the control towers. Their demands have not been met yet, and there is still a danger of the city being flooded. I’m sorry, but you deserve to know the truth.”
“ ”
However, their fragile hope was shattered by none other than the boy on the broadcast.
The way he spoke, it was almost like he was reading the minds of the people in the shelters. It seemed a cruel thing to do, to smother the seed of a faint hope so immediately. The eyes that had been filled with hope clouded again as they were told that their belief that they would be freed from their fears was mistaken. And soon, their anger was pointed not at the cultists, who were like a natural disaster, but at the boy speaking to them.
“—I’m sorry.”
But he had also anticipated the masses’ venting at him.
“Where are you all right now? I imagine most of you are in the shelters, but there are probably some of you who didn’t go to the shelters. I’m sure you are all feeling worried and anxious. I can understand feeling scared and wanting to just curl up. And I’m sure there are some of you wondering who I think I am, going and getting everyone’s hopes up for nothing.”
“ ”
“I’m just a regular guy. I’ve been tossed around by this crazy situation just like all of you. I’m on the verge of being crushed by the madness of it all. Just like you. My knees are quaking in fear. Just like you. That’s all I am. I actually had a bit of an argument with the people telling me to do this before I agreed to talk to you like this. I still think this is too big, too important a job for me. If I’m being honest, I think there are probably other people who would have been more suited to talking to all of you like this. In fact, I’m sure of it.”
His voice was wavering as he spoke, as if showing that he really did understand how they all felt in a sea of fear and unease. He was open and honest, sharing his timidity, his insecurity. Everyone listening, the girl included, was past the point of suspicion or disappointment and could only feel confused.
Everyone wanted a little hope. Even if it was fake, even if it was fragile, they wanted something to hold on to. So why was he the one standing in front of the metia? He’d said it himself, hadn’t he? There must be someone else better for it. So then, why was he—?
“But right now, it’s just me. I’m the one here speaking to you. People way more special than I am told me that I should do this. That there was a meaning in me doing it… My voice is trembling, isn’t it? I’m not the sort of guy meant to be standing in front of a crowd. I don’t have the words or the charisma to lead everyone. I’m weak, pathetic, and even in a moment as important as this, I can’t help wanting to run away…”
His tone gradually sank, drawing everyone listening gradually to the depths of despair. His weak, hoarse voice grated on their hearts, which were already tortured by fear, causing their stomachs to constrict. If he had been somewhere they could reach, they would have wanted to shut him up as soon as possible.
“Sister…”
At some point, her younger brother had woken up, and he called out to her.
She hugged her brother tight and held him close. Desperately clinging to him so that the weak, penetrating voice from the metia would not reach his ears, so that he would not be crushed by that hopelessness and despair. And while she was protecting her brother, her own ears were exposed, forcibly swept along on the path of the boy’s weakness as he continued.
“…and hoping that I can just plug my ears and ignore everything while someone else takes care of everything because I don’t know what to do…”
“Nooo…”
The girl closed her eyes tight, shaking her head, trying to keep away the grief and despair.
The boy’s words described exactly what everyone in the shelters, everyone in the city cowering in fear of the cultists was feeling in the depths of their hearts. That was the weakness eating away at the girl’s heart and the cowardice that had taken root in the depths of the adults’ hearts and the fear that plagued her little brother’s mind. This was the despair that no one would be able to fix.
She could not bear the boy’s voice forcing her to face the unresolvable reality in front of her. It was so unbearable, so terrifying…
“—But even so. Even with all that, I can’t run away from this. So I’m going to fight. That’s the sort of person I am.”
She could hardly believe what he said, his voice still wavering.
“—Eh?”
She opened her eyes and looked up, sure that she had just misheard him. She could not see the voice’s owner. But she did see other faces around the room looking up with the same shock she was feeling.
There was a beat of silence as he chose his words and got his voice under control. And then—
“Let me ask you again: Where are you right now? Did you flee to a shelter? Are you hiding in your home? Are you all alone and scared? Is someone else there with you? Is that person someone precious to you? Even if you didn’t know them before, are they familiar now after all these harrowing hours together?”
“ ”
“I know it’s not my place to say this, and it might be difficult for you, but please try not to wall yourself off. When you are all alone, it’s easy to fill your head with all sorts of meaningless thoughts. I know, I’ve been there, too. So please try not to be by yourself. Stay together with someone else. And also—”
He inhaled, a faint hesitation in the back of his voice.
“If you can, try to look that person in the eye.”
“ ”
As if led on by his words, the girl slowly looked down into her arms. Her brother was looking up at her. She met his quavering, uncertain green eyes.
“Whose face did you look at? Was it someone special to you or someone you had never met before a few hours ago? Or maybe it was a friend… They probably look terrible right now. Was their face teary? Pained? I doubt anyone is smiling right now. No, maybe there are some people. Trying their best to put on a smile to keep you from worrying. If they are, then they are truly amazing people. If someone precious to you smiled for you like that, you should be proud. And then you should compare their expression now to the smile you remember.”
Her brother’s eyes were wet and weary. He was all rumpled and looked like he might burst into tears again at any moment. And seeing herself reflected in her brother’s eyes, she saw that she had become expressionless and had a vacant look on her face.
“—Are you really okay with things staying like this?”
“…No…”
A soft reply slipped from the girl’s lips.
It was weak and faint. A voice she could barely hear herself. And yet…
“I’m not. I can’t forgive it. I don’t want to accept it.”
The boy’s voice continued strongly, almost as if he had heard her.
“I have people I care about. I have comrades who mean the world to me. And I can’t forgive the people who made them suffer and feel so sad. And I don’t want them to force themselves to smile for me, either. It’s enough to make me want to scream. I’m not stupid; I know her real smile is way more beautiful than that.”
“Sister…”
“I can’t just let it end like this. I could never live it down if I just gave up now. There’s no way I can let things stay this way. They’re the ones who are wrong, and I’m not going to sit back and let the bad guys win. I don’t want to admit I lost to them.”
“Fredo…”
She gently pulled her brother closer as he called out to her, pressing her forehead to his. It was warm. The warmth of life. She could not tell whether the heat was coming from her brother or her, but she could feel it nonetheless.
“I want to run away, but I can’t. I want to cry, but I can’t just cry. The enemy is dangerous, but I don’t want to just lose. So I’ll fight. I know full well that I’m weak, that I’m not smart. But I’ll still fight. Because they are the ones who are wrong. I’ll fight to prove to the people I love that the ones who made them so sad were wrong. That’s why I’m fighting—and I want you all to fight, too.”
“—!”
Her breath caught in her throat as it became tight. She felt pathetic for her moment of weakness.
Because the tremor in his voice disappeared, and she could hear in his voice the path that he was pointing to.
She understood his feelings. The meaning of his words was painfully clear to her. That was exactly how she felt, too. She wanted to fight. She wanted to run the bad guys out of the city if she could. But she and her little brother were small and young. They couldn’t do anything.
They were powerless, ignorant, weak, so there wasn’t—
“—Please don’t misunderstand me, though.”
But the boy’s voice provided shelter as she berated herself for her weakness.
“When I say I want you to fight, I don’t mean rush out into the streets with whatever weapons you can find. In fact, please don’t do anything so rash. I don’t mean you should form a mob and go running around looking for cultists to fight. What I want is for you to keep your head up.”
“Keep my…head up…”
“Nothing changes when you stare down at your feet. You can’t burn a hole in the ground no matter how long you look at it, and even if you could, that wouldn’t help anyone… So please, keep your head up. Keep your eyes in front of you.”
Raising her head, she looked not at her knees or her brother’s blond hair but at the shelter. And as she looked around, she met the gazes of others who had also been struck by despair. They had all instinctively looked up at the boy’s urging, just like she had.
“If you look around you, I’m sure you’ll meet someone else’s gaze. They are feeling the same unease, the same desire to just run away from it all, but…they also don’t want to lose. Your loved ones, and the person whose eyes you just met, and if you count yourself, that’s already three people. And depending on where you are, it might be even more people than that.”
Like he said, when she looked up, she could see several different people’s faces. The feelings in their eyes were complicated and muddled, and her eyes probably looked the same to them. But somewhere along the way she’d stopped feeling like she was just cowering in fear.
“I hope you understand now that you are not alone. That feeling is a powerful thing even all by itself. Not wanting to see the sad face of someone you care about. Not wanting to look lame to the person whose eyes you just met. I can’t be the only one who’s that shallow and stubborn, can I?”
“ ”
The voice was pleading with them, calling out to them, trying to raise their spirits and inspire their courage, and yet it sounded to the girl almost like the boy was looking for something to cling to himself.
And finally, she realized. His heart had not changed at all from the very beginning of the broadcast. Even as he hated his own weakness, even as he regretted the things he lacked, he had not given up. He talked about himself—that was the only weapon he had. And he spoke to everyone about the things he was sure they all had in common.
“I want to believe. I’m weak. And pathetic. But I haven’t given up yet. Please let me believe that I’m not the only weakling who doesn’t know how to give up.”
It was a cowardly voice and a cruel request. In a situation where everyone was pleading for help, here he was, shamelessly pleading with them, begging them all to give him something to believe in—
“Or am I really the only one?”
His voice faltered and lost confidence.
No, there had never been any confidence in his voice from the start. Irritation welled. Stop it! Even if she did not know what to shout—
“…No…”
It was as soft as a gnat’s buzz, just a faint voice that barely crossed her lips.
She would not reach him with a voice that soft. Louder. She had to answer his question.
For the weak guy on the other end who was also afraid of being alone—
“Am I the only one who can still keep going…? Who still wants to fight?”
“—NO!!!”
The girl’s eyes flared as she screamed.
The voice carried through the shelter. And her voice was not the only one.
“ ”
She and another person who had raised their head had responded.
Their cries struggled against the sadness, the weakness, and the fear that rested in their hearts.
If that had been what the boy was planning, then they had played right into his hands. But why should she care?! If that weak, trembling voice, that unreliable rebuke, that meager encouragement, and that trust desperately clinging to faith alone had been nothing but a cheap performance, if he really had played them that perfectly, then there was no reason to feel bad about falling for it.
—But if it wasn’t an act, if that had been what he truly believed, warts and all, then they couldn’t let him stand alone.
“I’m not, right?”
“NO!”
“You can still fight, right? You won’t let the weakness consume you, right?”
“I won’t lose… I don’t want to lose!”
There was a fire in her chest now. Her jaw clenched as an emotion different from anger welled up inside her. And she was not the only one.
All around her were people swallowing that same feeling as it turned into an inferno of emotion.
Just minutes earlier, all of their hearts had been consumed by unease, but now a different, fierier emotion was uniting them.
“If the person beside you is special to you, then hold their hand and have faith. If your neighbor is someone you don’t know, then give them a nod and do your best to stand together. Do your best to fight so that neither you nor they break. And as long as you all don’t give in, I’ll keep fighting without giving up, too. I’ll fight…and I’ll win.”
“ ”
They were in a shelter far away from city hall, after all. No matter how much they raised their voices and shouted, there was no way their yells would reach him. And yet it sounded like there was a sense of relief in his voice, as if he had heard their cries, and his voice quivered as he made that declaration.
—I’ll fight…and I’ll win.
No one doubted he could do it. They absolutely trusted he could make it come true. Just like he had trusted that they would not give in to despair. They believed that the boy would be victorious in the most dangerous battle to come.
How could they believe that? Because his voice was sure—
“—I am Subaru Natsuki, the spirit user who defeated the Witch Cult Archbishop of Sloth.”
There was a stir when he revealed his identity.
It was a proclamation that the girl did not understand, but the people around her did. The shock was enormous, but not in a negative way. First was astonishment, and then understanding—and finally hope and trust began to spread explosively, swallowing up the girl’s heart in the swell of emotions.
“My comrades and I will take care of the cultists in the city! So please, trust us and keep fighting, too. Hold the hand of someone precious to you and give that feeling of weakness a good thrashing. And as for the rest…”
“ ”
“…just leave everything else to me!”
Voices cried out as a singular hope multiplied and spread.
Looking down at her brother cradled in her arms, she could see hope lighting up his green eyes, too. Confirming that, she hugged him tight. His arms timidly wrapped around her waist, too, and she looked up at the ceiling as she felt the warmth of his hug.
The boy who could not hide his own fear, his own unease, who could not hide anything from them, had sworn he would still fight, carrying the hopes and expectations of all the people in the city on his back until the very end.
She did not know his face, but in her heart, he was a picture-book hero, and she closed her eyes as if praying that he would be blessed with every good fortune she could imagine. Because he would surely break if she didn’t.
—Because he was just your average, everyday boy who was struggling against the outrageous for someone precious to him.
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