The Girl Who Loved the World
There was once a young girl.
Though to call her merely a "young girl" would hardly do justice to just how remarkably fierce and bold she was. While other girls played with dolls, she waged mock wars. While they played house, she commanded imaginary battalions. Her dream was to become a supreme commander.
For a commoner—and a young girl at that—it was an utterly unreachable dream, yet she never once thought of giving it up.
"Mom! I'm definitely going to be the supreme commander!"
"Pfft, of course you will, sweetie. Someday, I'm sure."
Her parents dismissed her lofty ambition as nothing more than a passing childhood whim.
Yet she practiced relentlessly, day after day. To master tactics, she ran endless mock battles in her head. To build her physical strength, she carved a wooden sword and swung it thousands of times until her arms went numb. Within months, she had far surpassed all the boys her age. She had talent—an extraordinary, terrifying amount of it. She triumphed in every war game and remained undefeated in every wooden sword duel. Before long, the children in the village began to call her the "War Maniac."
Then, one day, her mother called her aside in an uncharacteristically solemn tone. She told her that commoners like them could never become supreme commanders; it was time to let go of such impossible dreams and face reality.
"Why?! Why can't a commoner become the supreme commander?!"
"Well... that's... um... Ah, that's right! An aide. It's because you don't have an aide."
"An... aide...? What's that?"
"An aide is... well, an indispensable companion who looks only to their master, dedicated entirely to them."
"Then... if I get an aide, can I become the supreme commander too?"
"Y-Yes, of course...! But an aide must be someone truly remarkable. And they have to be an adult."
"W-Why?"
"Because children can't protect you properly, you see?"
"Mmm... all right..."
"Good. So until you find one, you need to set your dream aside for a little while, okay?"
"No! I don't want to!"
"...Fine. Then at least promise you'll stay out of trouble until then..."
"Okay...! I will!"
From that day forward, the girl embarked on a search for her aide. She approached every single adult she came across, asking if they would serve as her aide, but each and every one simply laughed it off as child's play. One month passed, then two, then a whole year. By the time three years had gone by, there was not a single adult left in the village she hadn't already asked. Yet she never gave up.
That day was no different. She was on her way home after hauling water at her parents' request.
"Uh... wait, whoa...?!"
Perhaps filling the wooden bucket to the brim had been a mistake; the moment she hit the downhill slope, she couldn't stop. Dragged forward by the heavy water pail, she hurtled down the incline at breakneck speed.
"W-Wait, look out—!!"
"Hm?"
Crash!
She slammed headlong into someone.
"Ugh... what in the world...?"
"H-Heeek!"
Scrambling back, she looked at the person she had run into. It was an adult man dressed in a pitch-black suit.
W-What do I do...?
Even to a child's eyes, he was clearly someone of immense status. The immaculate suit he wore looked so expensive that selling her family's entire home wouldn't cover the cost of a single sleeve.
"...Why are you suddenly crying?"
"Heeek! I-I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!!"
Tears welling in her eyes, she bowed her head frantically.
"Wait... what are you apologizing for?"
"Y-Your clothes... your suit...!"
"Ah."
Only then did he seem to realize that he had been drenched in water.
What do I do...? What am I going to tell my parents...?
As sheer panic consumed her, the man spoke up in a calm, indifferent voice.
"Ah... it's fine. These clothes don't get wet."
"...Huh?"
"Take a look."
He gestured down at his black suit, which was completely spotless, repelling every single drop of water as if dry as a bone.
"H-Huh...?"
"See? Not wet at all."
"...Yeah."
"So it's fine. Go on your way."
"B-But..."
"Hm?"
She hesitated, shuffling her feet anxiously before working up the courage to speak.
"Y-You seem like... an important nobleman..."
"...What? An important person?"
He tilted his head curiously, then glanced down at his dark attire. A black suit—a lavish garment that ordinary folk could never even dare dream of wearing.
"Ah... haha. I might look like this, but... I'm just a vagrant."
"A... a vagrant...?"
"Yeah. A beggar without a single copper to my name."
"L-Liar! Beggars don't wear clothes like this...!"
"Hmm... I suppose you have a point. In that case—"
He paused as if pondering for a moment, then continued in a measured tone.
"—an aide. Yeah, that's it. I'm an aide."
An aide.
He had declared himself an aide.
"W-Whoaaa..."
At last, I found him.
Or so she thought.
What... what was this?
All of a sudden, the little girl's eyes began to sparkle with an overwhelming, starry brilliance.
"Mister! Do you have a master you're serving right now?!"
"Uh...? Well... um, no...?"
Damn it. I hadn't thought that far ahead. An aide without a master—what kind of nonsense was that? Like sweet bean buns without any sweet beans inside.
"Then, Mister, you know what...?"
The girl took slow, deliberate steps toward me.
"Would you... like to become my aide?"
"...What?"
What in the world was she babbling about to a complete stranger? Was this some sort of otherworld joke?
"Excuse me... what are you talking about, kid?"
"Exactly what I said! Would you be willing to be my aide?"
"...And why exactly does a kid like you need an aide?"
"Because I'm going to become the supreme commander!"
"Uh... sure. Good luck with that."
"'Good luck' my foot! I'm telling you to become my aide!"
"Why in the world would I..."
I despised troublesome entanglements. Devoting myself to someone else was even worse. I was a thoroughly selfish man; I was fundamentally incapable of cherishing another human being.
...Though frankly, I didn't cherish myself either.
"Come on, don't be like that! Just give me a little bit of your time! Please?"
"Sigh... Fine, whatever."
Having nowhere to go and nothing better to do, I decided to humor the kid for a few minutes.
"Now, listen closely!"
"Heh. Sure."
Watching her puff out her chest and set up what felt like a formal job interview was so ridiculous that a chuckle slipped out on its own.
"If you become my aide... you get to be the supreme commander's aide, Mister!"
"You've been babbling about this 'supreme commander' thing for a while now... Why do you even want to become one in the first place?"
"Huh? Mmm... well, that's..."
She seemed to mull it over with intense concentration, only to scratch the back of her head with a silly grin.
"Just because! Hehe... There's no real reason!"
"...What?"
"Doesn't everyone have things they just want to do for no particular reason while living their lives? It's like that!"
"Then it's not something you truly want..."
"Huh? Why not?"
I addressed her in a grave, quiet tone.
"Everything in this world has a reason. If you want something without a reason, it means you aren't serious about it."
My own childhood began to overlap with hers. These words were directed at the girl, but at the same time, they were an indictment aimed straight at myself. At the hollow man before her, who possessed no reason to live.
"B-But... just because there's no reason doesn't mean there's no goal, right...?"
"A goal...?"
A goal... What had the goal of my life even been?
I hadn't always been this lethargic husk. When I was young, there were so many things I had wanted to become. A firefighter, a police officer, a scientist...
And among them all, the one role I had yearned for most was an aide. An aide. I had wanted to harbor that kind of unyielding loyalty—the kind where a person would willingly lay down their very life for the master they served.
"That's not a goal. That's just a dream..."
"Huh? But aren't they the same thing?"
"No. They're entirely different."
Someone once said that dreams are called dreams precisely because they can never come true. A dream is nothing more than the fleeting whim of hot-blooded youth.
"A goal has a reason, but a dream has none. That is the difference between the two."
"Even if that's true, it doesn't make dreams worthless...!"
"What good is value if it can never be realized?"
"N-No! That's not true! Who told you something like that?!"
"My mother."
"Ah... uh..."
An awkward silence stretched between us.
Good grief... What in the world am I doing, lecturing a little kid...?
As the quiet dragged on, a sudden wave of self-loathing washed over me. Preaching about the harsh realities of life to an innocent child... How utterly repulsive.
"Um... well, I should get going. Sorry for lecturing you... I'll, uh, be rooting for your dream..."
"...Ah! Wait! Please wait...!"
Her small hand clamped tightly around my wrist.
I had reached my limit. Every time I looked at her, memories of my own childhood surged back so violently that I couldn't bear it.
"Stop it..."
"What...?"
"Think realistically..."
I wasn't speaking to her anymore. I was talking to the boy I used to be.
"You know it's impossible... You know it better than anyone..."
"What... what are you talking about...?"
Achieving a dream? What a sickening fairy tale. This place was reality—cruel, biting reality. In this world, failing to achieve one's dreams was the only natural outcome.
"Living an ordinary life is the best you can hope for..."
"...And what is an 'ordinary' life?"
"...What?"
"Every single person is special."
I tore my gaze away from the dirt ground and looked up at her. Tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes, yet her tiny hands were clenched into tight, resolute fists.
"Every single person is precious."
"...What are you suddenly talking about?"
"There isn't a single ordinary person in this world!"
A single teardrop escaped her eye, tracing down her cheek before falling to the earth below.
"Everyone has their own story to tell!"
"..."
"Everyone carries a dream inside them!"
She didn't stop. The words poured out of her without hesitation.
"Human beings were born to dream!"
"..."
"Whether it's a goal or a dream, people live their lives to achieve what they truly desire!"
"Then... what about..."
Then what am I?
I couldn't force the words past my lips. An overwhelming surge of emotion choked my throat, sealing my voice.
"Even if you never achieve that dream, it's okay! Because the journey—all that effort you poured into reaching it—stays with you, doesn't it?!"
"Who... who do you think you are, lecturing me...?"
"I know I'm just a kid. But—"
She met my eyes squarely. Her passionate crimson irises blazed with an unquenchable fire.
"—I'm not so childish that I'd ever look down on someone else's dream!"
"..."
"I love this world!"
The world is repulsive.
"Because even if I never reach my dream, I can still be happy along the way!"
Happiness is something I forgot long ago.
"And there's no need to worry anyway!"
All that remains inside me is dread for the road ahead.
"Because no matter what happens, I'm definitely going to make my dream come true...!"
It was self-righteous. Ignorant. Foolish. Nothing more than the naive babble of a child who had yet to taste the bitter reality of life.
And yet—through her words—I was saved, I was forgiven, and I was loved.
"...What is your name?"
"...Huh?"
"Your name... May I ask what it is?"
"..."
She hesitated for a brief second, then looked into my face and broke into a radiant, warm smile.
"My name is Ashilla, Mister!"
I was crying.