I'll Pass on the Attention
Everyone has a version of themselves they want to become.
People pour effort and sweat into making it real. Watching someone grow little by little, closing the gap toward their dream one step at a time—it can look beautiful from the outside.
For the person living it, though, it is anything but. Every single day you are forced to face the truth that you are no genius. That you will never reach those heights. Most people buckle under that pressure and abandon the dream in despair.
I was no different.
But the story I am about to tell is not about me.
Anin Strauss.
Born the eldest daughter of the prestigious Strauss family—a house that had produced exceptional talents for generations—Anin carried the weight of enormous expectations. Fortunately she was born with talent worthy of the Strauss name. If her dream had simply matched that talent, she might have lived a perfectly happy life.
Anin wanted to become a hero.
A hero.
This world has gods. Not only the goddess Eru, but several others. Those who form an apostolic contract with a god are called heroes by the people. The reason is simple enough.
They are the ones who strike down the evil gods that threaten the world.
The moment you become an apostle, conflict with the apostles of the evil gods—and the evil gods themselves—becomes inevitable. Backed by divine support, anyone who catches a bit of momentum is almost guaranteed to rise. Besides, the people chosen as apostles already possess the temperament of a hero.
In any case, many dream of becoming one. Anin was no exception. Her family even carried the blood of a hero in its veins. Her parents took pride in that heritage, and the girl who grew up watching them naturally came to dream of heroism herself.
Anin’s talent was all-purpose.
She possessed every aptitude—a ridiculous, cheat-level gift. Yet that gift could only ever blossom to a second-rate level. Perhaps because of that, the gods never chose her. She somehow managed to earn a chance at a divine trial…
And the god did not even glance her way.
In that moment Anin tasted crushing despair. From then on her goal changed.
“I cannot become a hero myself. In that case… at least I want to forge the person who will become one with my own hands.”
So she became a teacher at the academy where the kingdom’s talents gathered. Every student she met was gifted, yet none of them satisfied her eyes.
“I just want to raise someone who can stand as my equal.”
That wish slowly withered over the course of one year, then two, then five. By then Anin had become little different from any ordinary teacher. Then someone appeared who rekindled the fire of her passion.
That someone was the original protagonist of this novel.
In the end, Anin achieved her goal.
Under her guidance the protagonist grew into a true hero and saved the world.
…Though I still can’t stand the way he chose to save it.
Just remembering the choices he made makes my stomach turn. I know he had no other options, but that never made them sit right with me. My dislike of the original protagonist is partly tied to that.
Anyway, back to the story.
Anin herself could never become a hero, yet she possessed every quality needed to raise one. She recognized the protagonist’s potential, clung to him with almost annoying persistence, and poured herself into teaching him. The protagonist wanted strength, so he welcomed her intensity, and the two of them formed an ideal master-disciple pair.
That was the relationship between the original protagonist and Anin.
The original story has already derailed so badly that I accept their relationship has changed too.
Right now Anin showed zero interest in the original protagonist. Given that he had produced no results whatsoever, that was only natural. I had no intention of complaining. Half of it was my own fault, after all.
But still…
“Number Six, Reina. I heard you defeated a golem. Impressive. To think I overlooked a student like you.”
Wasn’t it strange that Anin’s interest had fixed on me?
“Have you fought a boss monster before? No—you needn’t explain. It would be clearer if you simply entered a dungeon with me and demonstrated the battle again.”
And if that interest came from the teacher who trained people within an inch of their lives, there was no way it could be good news.
“T-Teacher, I think there’s been some misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?”
Anin’s eyes went round at my words.
Anin never personally saw me fight.
So there was room to talk my way out of this.
“I’m not the one who beat the golem. Ceryll did.”
“Ceryll said the two of you took it down together.”
“I barely did anything. I just shot a few arrows to support her.”
Luckily only Ceryll and I had entered that dungeon. And of course Number One, Ceryll, was stronger than Number Six—me. I would use that fact for all it was worth.
“Ceryll was incredible. She wrapped her whole body in mana and sliced that uncuttable golem clean in half with her sword.”
“Being able to use Mana Reinforcement at such a young age is indeed remarkable.”
Just as I hoped, Anin’s attention swung toward Ceryll. Relief washed over me.
If Anin marks me, my peaceful school life is finished.
She was perfectly capable of dragging me out of bed before dawn for training. Worse, she would gather every dungeon in the vicinity and force me to clear them all under the excuse of “getting stronger.” From the outside it might even look like favoritism.
If I wanted to become as strong as the original protagonist, I would have welcomed it.
Being strong is never a bad thing. But I had no desire to live life at full throttle. I was absolutely not going to fit Anin’s training philosophy.
“Oh, and Ceryll wiped out all the goblins too, so I barely had anything left to do. As expected of Number One—the strongest student in our class. Someone like Ceryll is bound for great things.”
I laid the praise on thick, but every word was true. I had not lifted a finger against the goblins, and Ceryll was currently the strongest in our class. More importantly…
…Ceryll, just like the original protagonist, is fated to become a hero.
She would soon obtain a sacred relic of her own. So none of this was a lie.
Anin wanted to raise someone who would become a hero.
I’d rather pair her with the original protagonist, but…
That looked exhausting. Pairing her with Ceryll as a second choice wouldn’t be so bad. In the original story Anin had ended up teaching Ceryll as well partway through, after all.
“It seems an outstanding talent has indeed entered our academy.”
Anin smiled as she spoke, and I felt myself relax. Her interest had successfully shifted to Ceryll.
Anin stepped out of the infirmary room where Reina lay. A chair sat just outside the door; Ceryll occupied it.
“Silent.”
A wave of power spread from Anin. She could use simple magic as well, and Silent was one of those spells.
“Don’t be alarmed, Number One. I merely blocked the sound.”
“Ah… yes.”
Ceryll’s expression said she had no idea why such a thing was necessary.
“Number One, let me confirm once more. You used Mana Reinforcement to cleave the golem in half. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“But the golem attempted to regenerate. That is also correct?”
“Yes.”
“Then my final question.”
Anin did not hesitate.
“Number Six destroyed the golem’s core—its weak point—in a single strike. That is the truth as well, is it not?”
Ceryll answered without a moment’s pause.
“Yes.”
Anin possessed no magic that could detect lies. Still, she found it hard to believe Ceryll would lie to her.
…Thinking normally, one would call it pure coincidence.
She simply fired an arrow and it happened to hit the core.
But a golem’s core cannot be shattered unless the attack is laced with mana.
After investigating, Anin learned that Number Four—Jinny—had given Reina an explosive potion.
…Did she know the golem would appear? Or was that also coincidence?
Had she prepared for danger and simply gotten lucky?
Then what about the lunchboxes…
According to Ceryll’s account, the packed meals Reina had prepared were anything but meager. Enough for seven full, generous days. Most low-rank dungeons were cleared in a single day. So why bring that much food?
There are far too many suspicious points.
It almost looked as if she had known in advance what would unfold in that dungeon.
…I have heard that those with exceptional hero qualities sometimes receive revelations through prophetic dreams.
So it would not be strange if something like that had occurred. Anin therefore focused on a different question.
…Why is she trying so hard to hide her own achievements?
Number Six, Reina, had refused to the very end to admit she was the one who defeated the golem. What possible reason could she have?
Anin herself had once undergone a divine trial. Because of that, she knew this dungeon break had been orchestrated by a god.
From Number One’s reaction, she clearly knew nothing about the reward. In that case…
Only Number One and Number Six had entered the dungeon. If Number One received nothing…
…then the divine gift must have gone to Number Six.
She might not yet be a full apostle, but she had obtained the possibility of becoming one—of becoming a hero. Heroes were beings everyone admired. Why hide even the mere possibility?
There is a reason.
Once, Anin had dreamed of being a hero. She had wanted to be the kind of hero everyone recognized. Yet at the same time she had held another desire.
“I want to become a hidden hero… one whose identity no one knows.”
A hero who acted while concealing her true self. Number Six was not the type to put herself forward, so it would not be strange if she dreamed of becoming that sort of hero.
Suddenly everything made sense.
Especially the younger they are, the more they tend to romanticize such things. Her method of hiding it was clumsy, but still.
Anin’s wish was to raise a hero with her own hands. If Number Six wanted to become that kind of hero, then Anin needed to help her in a way that suited her wishes.
I’ll train her hard—quietly, without letting her notice.
Reina still had no idea that Anin had marked her.
“Achoo.”
I had thought the dungeon was a little chilly. Apparently I had caught a cold.
“Reina, are you okay?”
Ceryll looked at me with worried eyes. I started to say I was fine.
I never got the chance.
“…What are you doing?”
“Checking your temperature.”
Ceryll’s forehead pressed against mine. Our noses were nearly touching. Even from this close she was still beautiful. Her lashes were so long. Those blue eyes were truly stunning. Maybe because I had never been this near a girl before, something like embarrassment stirred in my chest.
“…Who checks a fever like this?”
I carefully pushed her back. The soft sensation under my palms only made the embarrassment worse—but that was a secret I would take to my grave.
“Reina, your face looks a little red. See? You really do have a fever, don’t you?”
And whose fault is that?
“…I’m seriously fine.”
“You can’t just brush this off. Just in case, you need proper treatment.”
“…You know healing magic doesn’t work on colds, right?”
Injuries and external wounds could be fixed in an instant with healing magic. Viral illnesses like the common cold, however, were completely unaffected.
“Ah… that’s true.”
“…Well, a cold usually clears up on its own in a few da—”
Once again I could not finish the sentence.
Creak.
The bed shifted. At the same time Ceryll slowly brought her face close to mine again—exactly as she had before. The only difference was that this time her target was not my forehead.
“Come to think of it, I heard a cold gets better if you pass it on to someone else.”
Our foreheads never touched. Our noses brushed, tickling each other in that tiny space between us, while Ceryll fixed me with an intense gaze and continued.
“Want to test whether that’s true?”