What a Person Needs
There aren't many things a person truly needs to live.
Clothes to wear or wrap around the body. Food to fuel it. And a place to stay.
Put simply, clothing, food, and shelter are enough. With those, you can at least keep yourself alive, whatever else you might lack.
Hobbies are something you take up when you have room to spare.
Her previous life had been comfortable enough that she could play the Bunny Princess in Hunter Land to her heart's content.
Things were different now.
Barely scraping by in this place, she had no leisure for hobbies — nothing to collect, nothing to fuss over.
At best, she stacked towers out of the bones left over from her meals.
And above all, her home was a cave. Not the sort of place you'd want to show strangers on a first meeting.
She woke every morning with her back aching from the stone floor, and the damp, clammy air was especially foul.
The atmosphere had gone distinctly awkward.
Everyone seemed so stunned by the state of her campsite that they couldn't manage a word.
I'm sorry…
Still, building a makeshift wooden tent would have taken forever, and she couldn't be bothered. She had no desire to pour that kind of effort into a place she might leave at any moment.
"You've been living… here?"
"Yeah…"
The chilly silence made her shrink without meaning to.
If she thought about it fairly, though, living in a cave wasn't all bad. It was a safe zone she had carefully chosen — outside the monsters' usual range of activity. It kept the rain off, and she could lose herself staring into a campfire.
Of course, being alone got lonely sometimes. When it did, she would swing her greatsword inside the cave until her thoughts settled. Working up a sweat always calmed her down fast.
And the damp atmosphere was never truly filthy. Sunlight reached inside during the day, so it never felt that dark. Birdsong filtered in, and she would lose herself in the sound of leaves brushing together in the wind. Even the occasional monster roar had, by now, become something close to background music.
…She was trying her hardest to think well of the cave, but it was pure cope and she knew it.
This dump. I want out of here already.
"Let's unpack for now. …It's only for a night, but we should tidy up a little. And we need to eat."
At Noah's words, everyone moved in perfect sync. So Noah was the party leader, then.
Alice sat on the monster hide she'd laid down in place of a carpet and watched the hunters work.
All manner of gear spilled from their packs, and as it piled up one piece at a time, the cave's hollow emptiness began to fade.
It no longer looked like a cave at all.
They nailed a cloth across the entrance so no one could see inside. Lamps lit the dim interior in place of sunlight. They strung hammocks along the cave walls and set their bags on top. Gear was carefully removed and arranged; weapons were lined up in a neat row.
Alice slipped her greatsword in among them. Its edge was completely worn down from fighting that tough-hided Luga-lac.
"I'll go grab some decent firewood."
"Same."
"I… need to rest a bit."
Two of the hunters headed out for wood, leaving Noah and the wounded one behind in the cave.
The hunter with the deep abdominal wound groaned as he leaned his back against the wall.
"Lie down here."
"…Thanks."
She made space for the injured man to lie down. Well, she could just sit on a rock instead.
He gave her a slight bow of thanks, then carefully lowered himself to the ground. Watching him close his eyes and groan was pitiful.
Alice poked at the dead campfire with a stick.
Noah dropped down beside her with a soft thud.
She held her weapon and a whetstone, slowly working the edge beside Alice.
Shrrk— shrrk—. The dulled blade began to find its edge again.
"So, Alice — what were you looking for out here?"
"Hm?"
Sharpening in silence must have gotten boring, because Noah struck up a conversation.
"Were you on a commission or something?"
"No."
"…Then were you just out killing monsters?"
"No."
Alice pushed up the sleeves that completely covered her hands.
"I just woke up and I was here. All I had was this one greatsword."
"So you don't have any memories?"
No — she had memories. Just none that belonged to this body. It was only a character she had made.
But she had no confidence in explaining all that at length. Saying she'd lost her memory was the best option.
She nodded instead of answering.
"……I'm sorry."
Noah apologized in a quiet, careful voice.
"Don't be."
There was nothing to apologize for. If anything, Alice was the flustered one, waving her hands at Noah.
"I'm fine. Really."
"Yeah…"
Even so, Noah couldn't quite shake the gloom.
Is losing your memory really that big a deal…? Alice ran out of things to say and went back to poking the campfire with her stick. Embers that hadn't quite died yet fluttered up in tiny sparks.
The hunters prepared a meal.
They built the fire high with the wood they'd brought and set up a stand. A small pot stuffed with ingredients bubbled away over the flames.
While the food cooked, they each tended to their weapons.
Alice paused mid-stroke on her greatsword and glanced at the hunters.
The woman with the sword and shield was Noah. The wounded male hunter was Nab.
The thickset man examining his spear was Scudo. And the remaining one — the lean man tapping his dual blades together — was Cheiler.
These names are hard to remember.
She shrugged and went back to working her greatsword. After a long stretch of silent, steady grinding with the whetstone, the edge began to come alive again.
"Whew. Done."
"Mine's pretty wrecked overall. Gonna need a new one."
"That hide was ridiculously tough."
What, they're already finished?
Alice still had a long way to go, but the others had all finished their maintenance and set their weapons down.
Then they just sat there watching her arms pump away. She felt like a performing animal.
It was unfair — the greatsword was just big and long, that was all.
"Alice, is that hard? Want me to do it for you?"
"I'm fine."
It wasn't hard. Just tedious, the way repetitive labor always was.
Even so, it was far more enjoyable than being alone. Humans really were social creatures. She hadn't talked much, but just having people nearby put her at ease.
With their gear sorted and nothing to do but wait for the food, the others struck up conversation. Topics Alice knew nothing about. She just listened, like a radio playing in the background.
Having the always-lonely cave filled with sound left her feeling strangely unsettled — in a good way.
That didn't mean she suddenly became talkative. The four of them already knew each other; she was the outsider. There was a wall there. Starting a conversation in that situation wasn't easy.
She didn't need to force her way in. The atmosphere itself was enough.
Her mouth stayed shut, but her hands stayed busy on the blade.
"Looks about done."
Cheiler said, stirring with a ladle.
He was right — a rich, delicious smell poured from the pot. Saliva welled up reflexively in a mouth that hadn't moved much in a long while.
Since landing in this place, she hadn't once properly enjoyed a meal. Everything she'd eaten had been too crude to call cooking.
Grrrk—. Today's meals so far had been nothing but fruit and weeds. Her stomach screaming for real food was a perfectly natural reaction.
Apparently not to everyone else, though — they all laughed at the pitiful cry from her belly.
"Heh, someone's hungry. I made plenty — you can eat as much as you want."
"Yeah. Smells good."
"Of course it does."
Cheiler said. He was built lean, and his voice had a light, easy tone to match.
He took pride in his cooking, and the others seemed to accept that without argument. The total absence of dissent suggested it was the real deal.
Noah leaned in close and whispered in Alice's ear.
"Cheiler might not look it, but he's our cook."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Scudo, who had been silent, gave a nod.
"He's definitely a surprise."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
His low, deep voice chimed in agreement with Noah.
"Definitely…"
"You just go back to sleep."
Even Nab, still lying wounded, piled on. Cheiler looked at Nab's condition and shook his head in disbelief.
The four of them really were close. Were other parties like this, or was this one especially tight-knit?
They had a surplus of ease about them. Probably because they trusted each other. It was almost romantic.
Cheiler ladled out the finished soup and passed a portion to each of them.
Eating from a proper bowl was something she hadn't done in ages. She stirred the soup with a spoon and took a taste. Sweet and savory. The kind of flavor that snapped your eyes wide open when you were this hungry.
"How is it? Okay?"
Cheiler asked. Alice nodded.
There was a reason for his confidence. The food was that good.
Before she knew it… she had emptied the bowl in an instant. Wondering if she could have more, she craned her neck toward the pot. Fortunately there was plenty left, and she refilled her bowl and finished the meal thoroughly stuffed.
Ah. This is living.
Maybe it was the full stomach after so long, or the warmth of the cave — sleep came for her almost at once.
Everyone else, though, still looked wide awake.
Once the sun went down, the forest was more dangerous than by day. At night, this place became a demon realm.
Noah thought about it. Alice had been alone in land like this. Hadn't she been afraid?
Monster roars carried through the dark, and sometimes the sound of footsteps, too. Even inside the cave, it was hard to feel truly safe.
"Mmm……"
Unlike the hunters, who still held the edge of their tension, Alice was dozing off right there in the middle of it all.
She was used to this. Being driven into a corner like this meant nothing to her. Watching Alice start to droop her head while sitting on a rock was startling enough — but a quiet ache settled in one corner of Noah's heart.
Why did she lose her memories?
Maybe there was something she wanted to forget. Maybe she had turned her back on the world in this place and lost her memories, her purpose — everything — and simply gone on killing monsters.
"Alice, sleepy?"
"Yeah…"
"Want to go lie down?"
"I think I should. Sorry…"
"It's fine."
Alice fell asleep almost immediately.
Breathing in soft, even rumbles, she closed her eyes on the hide as if it weren't uncomfortable at all.
Noah made sure she was out, then returned to her place.
The four hunters who still couldn't sleep were waiting there. Meeting each other's eyes, they began to speak one by one.
Quietly, so Alice wouldn't wake.
"…She's not a hunter, is she?"
Scudo spoke first.
Everyone nodded.
They'd confirmed it with their own eyes while unpacking. There wasn't a single thing in the cave that could be called Alice's belongings.
Nothing basic. Not even a card to prove she was a hunter. No tools for hunting, either. All she had was that crude greatsword.
Cheiler drew a sharp breath.
"That's dangerous…"
Hunting monsters was only permitted through official commissions. And the prerequisite for taking a commission was becoming a hunter. Without both — hunter status and a commission — hunting was controlled.
Alice had neither. She wasn't a hunter, and she had been hunting monsters anyway.
A non-hunter killing monsters was something you simply weren't supposed to do unless it was for pure survival. And even if Alice had killed them to stay alive, that wasn't much of an excuse.
Looked at another way, she had walked into the Forest of Illusion of her own free will. That suggested intent.
If she caught the Association's eye, she would face immediate sanctions.
In the worst case…
"At this rate, she's going to die."
"Yeah."
Noah murmured.
If Alice stayed in this forest, there were only two endings waiting for her. She would either fight herself to death without sparing her body, or the Association would hunt her down for sustained illegal hunting.
…Neither was a good ending.
They couldn't leave her like that.
Alice was their benefactor. Alone, she had saved the four of them when the One-Eyed Luga-lac nearly killed them.
She didn't seem to realize it herself, but hunting monsters solo took serious skill. They didn't want to watch someone that capable — their savior — die for some absurd reason.
That was how they felt. But they couldn't quite bring themselves to say it out loud.
"When we head back tomorrow, let's ask her to come with us."
Nab said, wrapping a fresh bandage around his stomach.
"Alice saved my life. I don't want to just walk away."
"And if she says she doesn't want to go?"
Noah asked, dragging a hand down her face.
Just take her, then. It would have been easy to think that way — but Noah considered Alice's situation.
Right now Alice was sleeping like an angel, but when she fought the Luga-lac she had been a berserker. The rage and hatred with which she burned her own body to kill that monster had been anything but ordinary. She might refuse.
"…Then we take her by force if we have to."
But Nab was stubborn.
He turned his head slightly to look at Alice.
She was curled up asleep in the corner. In a fight she could easily have run from, she hadn't turned her back — she'd saved them, and even given them her campsite.
"A kid that kind… we can't just leave her to die out here."
At Nab's words, Noah finally nodded.