A Heaven-Sent Team Leader

"Team Leader."

"What excuse are you about to spin this time for why you don't want to work?"

"...It's not like that."

"Then what's going on?"

The office was quiet. There wasn't much work to do, and hardly any heroes had come by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠today. I'd been plugging away at my usual tasks when a problem involving Saran presented itself, and that left me with no choice but to call the Team Leader over. Unlike the others, Saran's situation was... well, the list of people I could actually talk to about her was painfully short.

"I need to talk to you about Saran. Do you have a moment?"

"Saran? Hmm. Well, I'm free right now, but is this going to take a while?"

"I don't think so."

"Alright, then. Should be fine."

I led her from the office into the conference room and handed over a few reports. All of them were about Saran. They weren't the kind of thing I'd officially upload anywhere — just a handful of write-ups I'd put together on my own — but I needed her to see them if we were going to have a productive conversation.

"Reports on Saran, huh? The ones you were working on last time?"

"Yes."

"This one's just a short assessment of her condition... next is the approach you took to help her... and after that, notes on how she's improved. So what's this about?"

She skimmed through them without much fuss. Just showing her those pages alone probably wasn't enough for her to guess what I actually wanted to discuss. Once she'd finished reading, I handed her one more document — a sheet with nothing on it but a title.

"...Goal Setting for the Resolution of Hero Black Viper's Difficulties?"

"Yes. I could use a little help with that."

"What is this? Something you put together on your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠own?"

"Just a rough idea I sketched out. Recently, while I was helping Miss Batori — that rookie hero I mentioned before — I realized that designing a concrete goal for her worked surprisingly well. I thought it might be worth trying the same thing with Saran."

"Huuuh..."

The title said it all. I wanted to give Saran a goal the same way I had with Batori, something to work toward as a way of addressing her problems. In Batori's case, the target had been climbing to C-Class so she could use her ability properly and receive a custom combat costume from the Association. But with Saran... coming up with a goal like that was a lot harder. I hadn't brought any of this up with her directly yet. I just wanted to have something prepared before our next meeting, which was why I'd come to the Team Leader.

"What do you think?"

"Seems fine to me? This kind of thing gets used all the time in psychiatric hospitals and psychotherapy, doesn't it?"

"It ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠does. The Welfare Bureau doesn't have any established protocol for it, but I think it's a solid approach. I'd like to try applying it to Saran this time."

"So?"

"The problem is, I have no idea what kind of goal I should set for her."

Saran's struggles boiled down to social isolation and a sense of alienation born from the nature of her work. I'd already been meeting with her regularly — talking, spending time together, doing various activities — but there was no way that alone was going to fix everything. Solving a long-term problem like hers meant we needed more than one approach.

"Saran operates as an undercover hero, right? She almost never appears in the media officially?"

"That's right. Though if she ever wanted to switch over to being a regular public hero, it would probably be possible."

"But it's not like there's anything wrong with her personality, either. The problem is that she can't talk about her work at all, and that makes it even harder for her to take any kind of initiative..."

"Hmm. Yeah, I see what you mean. It's hard to say much of anything about the kind of work Saran does."

What was I supposed to do? I'd turned it over in my head more than a few times, but nothing resembling a real plan had come to me. Honestly, part of me wondered whether handing her a goal would even put a dent in her isolation and loneliness to begin with. The situation was so awkward that I'd started thinking it might be better for Saran to just make a few acquaintances who were former heroes themselves.

"Hmm."

"Mmm..."

"Hmmm..."

"Mmmmmmm......"

The two of us sat in the conference room and kept thinking. Maybe this was a tough one even for the Team Leader. She'd spent years working as a hero herself, and she even had a bit of history with Saran, so I'd figured she'd be able to help. Turns out she was a Team Leader with her feet planted firmly on the disappointing ground.

The answers I got when I consulted TeamGPT were the worst.

"What about exercise?"

"...I don't think she'd go for that."

"Karaoke?"

"That's obviously..."

"Hmm."

"Hmm..."

I was going to have to leave a one-star review. Still, we kept talking after that, slowly working through what approach might actually work. Even if her answers had been a little underwhelming, the Team Leader was pretty much the only person at the Welfare Bureau I could have this kind of conversation with. That much was a given.

"Honestly, if this were a rookie hero dealing with something like this, I'd just say give them a sense of accomplishment and call it a day."

"She's already been active for six years since her debut."

"Yeah. So I've got nothing. Most heroes retire within ten years anyway."

"Ugh..."

She wasn't wrong. Hero work piled on the stress like nothing else, which was why most of them hung it up inside of a decade. The Team Leader herself was a former hero who'd retired in her mid-twenties. Saran had been at it for about six years already — the point where a veteran would start winding things down and easing toward retirement.

"...Oh. Or what about this?"

"What?"

After all that thinking, the Team Leader suddenly started waving her finger around like she'd just had a revelation, talking at me with the energy of a mathematician who'd climbed out of the bathtub with the secret of the universe. It was a little ridiculous, but given that I hadn't come up with a single decent idea myself, I was in no position to be picky. I just looked at her and waited.

"That rookie hero you're in charge of right now, right? Have Saran meet her!"

"Miss Batori?"

"There's so much she could teach her, starting with how to actually use an ability."

"...Aren't their abilities completely different types?"

Saran teaching Batori? I turned the Team Leader's words over in my head, trying to figure out what that would even look like, but not much came to mind. Maybe that was just because I'd only ever done desk work. Nothing obvious jumped out, and when I pictured Saran's personality next to Batori's, the main thing I could see was how rough it would probably be for both of them.

"No, no — not just about abilities. Fighting techniques, how to subdue someone, all of that. There's a lot she could pass on. Especially with Batori. That rookie doesn't really have anyone teaching her anything as it is."

"...And how does teaching someone connect to giving Saran a goal?"

"She can't talk about the classified work, sure. But she can talk about her own experiences, little by little. Don't you think she might start to feel a bit more open through that process?"

"Oh..."

"Plus, in that report you filed, you said you were planning to get the rookie up to C-Class, didn't you? This would help with that too."

"Ooooh......!"

Earthbound? No. This was a Team Leader like the heavens themselves. TeamGPT was a god. TeamGPT was invincible. Of course a former hero would be this good at looking at problems from a hero's point of view. I had no choice but to worship her.

Damn. Damn. She was omniscient. She was omnipotent...!

"Adopted!"

I went straight back to my desk and finished the document based on everything the Team Leader had said.

"I put something together for you, Saran. Would you take a look?"

"...A mentoring project?"

"Yes!"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"...Me?"

"Yes!"

"...Teaching a rookie?"

"Yeees!"

I nodded along vigorously with every word she said. That was exactly what it was, after all. I'd originally been going to call it something like "Hoping You'll Be Friends" or "Raising a Rookie Hero," but those titles were painfully uncool and bland. So I'd gone with something that sounded a little more serious, a little more official — Mentoring Project — and packed the document itself with language that sounded suitably impressive before handing it over. Saran looked a bit puzzled, naturally... but I genuinely believed this was a good approach.

"You work as a hero, Saran, but there's so much related to the job that you can't talk about, right?"

"...Yeah."

"This would at least let you discuss a small piece of that. And beyond that, I figured there'd be a lot you could teach on the combat side."

"......"

From Saran's perspective, I figured this probably sounded like it had come out of nowhere. That was why what I said next was going to matter. Anyone could fill a document with official-sounding language. Actually talking someone into something — that was a rarer skill.

"You put this together?"

"Hm? Ah... yes? I prepared it as a first step toward working through your situation. If you don't like it..."

"...No. I'll do it."

"...Really?"

I'd been fully prepared to talk her ear off. Instead, Saran accepted so easily that I couldn't help but sit there blinking. I'd been certain it would take a long time to convince her. Why was she saying yes this fast? I'd put the thing together myself, and even I hadn't thought it would go over this smoothly. My head spun for a second.

"Thank you so much...!"

"...Don't. You're the one doing extra work because of me."

The document was basically the Team Leader's idea inflated to three times its original size, and I'd been planning to walk Saran through all the expected benefits in detail. Her immediate yes left me more than a little thrown. But in the end, I was just happy she'd accepted what I'd prepared for her.

Now the only one left was Batori. And Batori, for reasons I still didn't fully understand, had a suspicious tendency to believe whatever people told her. I'd even used hypnosis to warn her about that, and she still took every word I said at face value. I wasn't particularly worried.