The Weight of Admiration
When on earth was it? The exact moment she had come to admire those heroes who protected people from countless dangers and dedicated themselves to others. The moment she had harbored the desire to become a hero just like them. The moment that had kept her running forward all this time, firmly believing that with nothing but effort and passion, she could become a magnificent hero, just like the ones in the stories.
May thought with a bitter smile. It was certain, at least, that those moments belonged to my truly innocent childhood.
Even up until she entered the academy—a place known to everyone by name, often called the gateway to becoming a hero—May had been half-certain. She believed that even among the admitted students, she would become a magnificent hero who would never fall behind.
Compared to others, she wasn't lacking in talent, and she was confident that her determination to become a great hero was second to none. After all, ever since she was a child, she had poured all her efforts into nothing but the dream of becoming a hero. So, there was no way she could fall behind. That was what she had thought—until she saw the other students at the academy.
May was, strictly speaking, a prodigy. The kind of person of whom others would say, "Oh, she's got some talent." But among the children taking classes alongside her, geniuses were a dime a dozen.
There was a girl with a robust, seemingly unbreakable body. There was a girl who manipulated water and ice at will, and the world's sole contractor of the Star Spirit. There was a boy hailed as a genius mage, and another boy with talent so legendary he had been appointed as a Hero at the youngest age in history.
Amidst such brilliant talents, May realized her own gift was utterly insignificant. She saw that while she took a single step forward with great effort, others were leaping ten, even a hundred steps ahead. And it wasn't as if they were lazy geniuses who relied solely on their natural gifts, either.
May had no choice but to admit it. There was an unbridgeable chasm between them and her. The disparity in talent was so absurdly unfair that it made her question the very value of her own efforts. Yet, May was not a girl so fragile that her spirit would break over something like this.
May lifted her head and looked forward. A crimson-haired girl, her hands enveloped in flames as red as her hair, was sparring with dazzlingly fluid movements. Scarlet Evande, her precious friend.
May had watched her all this time. She had watched her willingly sacrifice her own arm to protect the people in the gymnasium. She had watched her experience death countless times during special classes, yet never show a hint of struggle, ultimately achieving her goal in the end.
Admiration. That was the driving force that had allowed May to persevere without giving up. And that admiration, which had once been directed toward the abstract concept of a great hero, had at some point shifted from "heroes" to the girl standing right before her. Because in her, May saw the very image of the magnificent hero she had always yearned to be.
May wanted to be like her. She wanted to be someone who could stand shoulder-to-shoulder beside her and fight. But...
May wiped the cold sweat drenching her face with a stiff, trembling hand. She had been in this state ever since she faced the bloodlust Leon had released during class earlier. The moment she was exposed to that murderous intent, the memory of her encounter with the Witch rushed back. Back then, even though she had watched with her own two eyes as her precious friend was dragged away by the Witch... she had done nothing. Absolutely nothing. Simply because she was too terrified to move.
And when she felt her body freeze up in the exact same way under Leon's bloodlust just moments ago, May lost her confidence for the first time. Ahead of her, the girl she admired was sparring with Leon. Facing head-on the very bloodlust that had rendered May completely paralyzed from just a slight exposure, Scarlet was moving with agility that couldn't even be compared to before.
Was it... talent? May recalled the day she had trained under Leon alongside Scarlet. Back then, on the day they faced the Witch, and even now. Scarlet always looked like someone who felt no fear. Watching Scarlet cross the lines she herself couldn't cross, acting as if it were nothing, May couldn't help but wonder if even that was a form of talent.
If the inability to feel fear was indeed a talent... then no matter what she did, she would never be able to become like the girl she admired. A difference in talent. Those words, which she had once casually brushed aside, struck May more painfully than ever in this very moment.
May's gaze, which had always looked straight ahead without wavering under any circumstances, dropped to the floor. Looking at her own pathetically trembling hands, she felt utterly miserable. The realization that she could never become like the girl she admired was akin to losing the pillar that had supported her all this time. May's expression contorted as she felt her spirit on the verge of breaking.
But it was then.
"*Cough, hack...* Ugh..."
"Are you okay?! No, why did you do that all of a sudden? You were dodging so well, but to suddenly freeze up like that in the middle of a spar...!"
"*Gasp, wheeze...* I'm... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
A minor commotion broke out as Scarlet was sent flying by Leon's attack. And catching a glimpse of Scarlet's face through the gap in the crowd, May felt as if she had been struck on the back of the head with a hammer.
A face drenched in cold sweat. Eyes trembling, completely contorted with emotion. As Scarlet excused herself in a shaking voice and headed toward the infirmary, what May saw on her face was unmistakably not pain—but fear.
The moment she saw it, May realized. Scarlet was not some fearless being. She had simply been enduring her terror all this time.
In that instant, a wave of intense self-loathing washed over May. When she thought about it, of course Scarlet was a human being who felt fear just like anyone else. Yet she had viewed her as some sort of fearless monster. She began to wonder if, subconsciously, she had simply been looking for an excuse to justify giving up on her own efforts.
If that was the case, it was incredibly cowardly and pathetic. And to think she had prattled on about becoming a magnificent hero. May bit her lip, laughing at herself in self-derision.
Just then, Leon, who had been watching Scarlet leave the gymnasium, spoke up with a troubled expression.
"Well... we had a bit of an accident, but class must go on. Who's next to try?"
"...I'll do it."
Standing up on impulse, May stepped up to the imaginary line Leon had drawn with his spear. The moment she stood before it, she felt the suffocating bloodlust constricting her body. It was the exact same sensation as last time. A chill running down her spine with the first step. Her body trembling with the second. And as she tried to take the third step, her body froze up of its own accord. Her instincts screamed at her, sounding alarms that she would die, that she had to run.
"Ugh..."
Even though her mind wanted to take a step forward, her body refused to cooperate. But May steeled her resolve as she felt Leon's gaze on her. Had he not said it himself? How can a hero afford to succumb to fear?
Moreover, May bit her lip as she thought of her friend. The friend who had thrown herself into the jaws of death just to save them. The terror Scarlet must have felt back then would make this trivial pressure look like nothing. If she truly wanted to stand by Scarlet's side, how could she dare whine about something like this?
Gritting her teeth so hard they ground together, May forced strength into her legs. And she crossed the line—the very line she had utterly failed to cross last time.
Instantly, the suffocating bloodlust vanished. A faint smile played on Leon's lips as he spoke.
"Well... I'm a bit surprised. I didn't expect you to succeed on your very first try. Well done. Overcoming fear like this is precisely how you survive. Once you get used to it, it will surely help—"
"...*Pant, pant...* It's not enough."
"...Not enough? What is?"
Interrupting Leon, May panted heavily and muttered. Though her face contorted from the strain of forcing her uncooperative body to move through sheer willpower, she spoke to Leon in a trembling voice.
"...It's not enough. Just learning how to survive, I mean. So... please teach me how to get stronger."
"...I think you've gotten quite a bit stronger compared to before. Is there a reason you suddenly want to get stronger?"
"...Because I don't have talent. I can't use magic, and my ability is mediocre. If I want to get as strong as I need to be, I need help."
"...Hmm."
Leon watched her with a slightly displeased expression for a moment before his face hardened.
"...Is that all?"
"Gah...!"
Immediately after, May was crushed to her knees by the overwhelming pressure radiating from Leon once more. Even as she writhed in pain from the sudden force that had caught her off guard just as she had begun to relax, Leon questioned her with an indifferent gaze.
"If that's your only reason, I find it hard to accept. Even if you are an acquaintance of my daughter, that was a bit rude. If you're going to ask for a favor, you need a more compelling reason than that."
At his words, May muttered.
"...I don't... want to..."
Because she had finally realized. When she thought about it, there was now something she feared far more than the fear of death.
"...I don't want to...!"
Recalling the moment she had felt the most pathetic in her entire life—the moment she never, ever wanted to experience again—she pressed her hands against the ground, fighting against the suffocating pressure that crushed her body, and slowly forced herself up. Finally standing firm on both feet, May glared at Leon with burning eyes and screamed.
"Never again...! I hate the thought of standing by and doing absolutely nothing while my friend is in danger...!!!"
Panting heavily after her outburst, May poured every ounce of desperation she possessed into her next action. She bowed deeply and politely to Leon, pleading with him.
"...So, please. Help me get stronger..."
A brief silence fell over the gym.
"...Well, you should have just said so from the start."
Withdrawing his pressure, Leon scratched his head with an embarrassed expression.