Sharing a Bed? - 2
The ship cut through the sea toward the Empire, pressing forward under the farewell of countless well-wishers.
It was the hour when the sun, already low and lingering, prepared to slip past the horizon of the sea.
Inside the narrow cabin, silence still held dominion.
The Hero and the Saintess continued to face each other in an atmosphere thick with awkwardness.
More precisely, their eyes had not quite met — but their bodies were turned toward one another all the same.
The Saintess sat on the bed, unable to fully conceal her tension, her hands clenched tight around the edge of the blanket. The Hero watched her and settled into the chair at the table opposite.
As the awkward quiet filled every corner of the room, it was the Hero who broke the silence first.
"I'll sleep on the floor."
He said it with a faint smile, and something in his face looked almost relieved.
Hearing him, I was so relieved myself that my carefully constructed mask nearly cracked and let my true expression slip through — but fortunately, I did not allow myself that mistake.
At least he's got some common sense in him.
Having confirmed that the Hero's strangely unconventional, hard-to-predict behavior still operated within the bounds of basic decency, I felt another wave of reassurance wash over me.
I exhaled a quiet breath inwardly.
But I was playing the Saintess, and so I had to ask him a question.
Because she was a kind, caring person.
With a look of genuine concern.
Will you be alright?
The Hero answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Yes."
"There's plenty of bedding, after all."
He was so utterly unhesitating that it pricked at my conscience, just a little.
With that, the Hero rose from his seat, crossed to a wardrobe I hadn't even noticed, pulled out a blanket, and began spreading it across the floor.
There was only the one blanket, and it looked barely enough to cover him.
A playful smile lingered at the corner of his mouth — the kind of smile you might wear when teasing someone close — and for a moment it nearly made me forget the guilt altogether.
It was a faintly irritating smile.
Looking at that expression, a strangely familiar feeling rose up alongside something cold and bleak — but I dismissed it almost at once.
Why, looking at a smiling man's face, had I felt both familiarity and that dark, chilling emotion at the same time?
It probably wasn't important.
Forcing my thoughts back onto their proper course, I turned toward the window, where the light of the setting sun was beginning to show itself.
The sunset was visible through the cabin's small square window, and registering the time made me realize, oddly, that I was growing hungry.
Evening was already nearly upon us.
All I had eaten today was the salad I myself had burned that morning, and a single piece of chocolate the Hero had handed me sometime in between.
That sweet taste still refused to leave my mind.
Perhaps my palate had changed along with my body — sweetness seemed twice as intense as it used to be.
Even the Saintess, who in the game had been something close to a perfected Superhuman, always mature and composed until the moment she simply dropped dead, had possessed a curiously childlike side.
In the quiet that settled once more, I began laying out plans in my head.
A walkthrough was the foundation of every game, after all.
If we reached the Imperial Capital, I decided, I would purchase a Subspace Pouch and some desserts.
I did not forget to rationalize it to myself as a necessary expense.
Beyond that, Spring — a gimmick boss — would appear in the Imperial Capital, so it would be wise to prepare thoroughly for the subjugation.
First, gear up. As for necessary items… mana potions and a bow, maybe?
What also concerned me was that she specialized in mental attacks, targeting a person's trauma — but I had never experienced anything in my life that could truly be called trauma, so I set that worry aside.
Allies with weak mental fortitude could turn against you, which made the most worrisome figure the Holy Knight who had abruptly joined us and introduced himself as Jerome.
There had been no information on him in the original game, so I had no idea what his mental resistance values might be.
If he turned hostile, he would be quite the nuisance.
The Hero would be fine — but the Saintess, for all that she was a Superhuman, was pitifully weak in combat compared to the other Stars and companions. Her own martial power was meager.
Of course, "weak" only in comparison to Superhumans and Stars. Wrapping herself in physical reinforcement and pouring out an endless stream of starlight still proved she was a Superhuman in her own right.
Even if someone turned against us, basic skills would probably be enough to handle it.
Having soothed myself, I began considering other routes.
In a pinch, we could seek help from the Tower of Magic — but the Tower's master resided at the peak of a different tower far from the Imperial Capital, so I doubted the aid would amount to much.
Preemptively killing off citizens with low mental fortitude was one of the walkthrough strategies — but now that the game had become reality, getting caught would almost certainly end in something far worse than a simple beheading.
Still, if it comes down to it, killing them isn't the worst option.
The rule that a crime only counts if you're caught applied just as well in this place.
In any case, feeling my stomach threaten to produce an ugly growl at any moment, I decided it was time for dinner and rose from the bed.
The Hero, still seated, looked at me with mild puzzlement and asked a question.
"Where are you going?"
I intend to go have a meal.
And then I extended an invitation.
Would you like to come with me?
The Hero would accept this proposal.
"Yes."
Just as I thought.
Inwardly cheering that the situation was unfolding exactly as I intended, I headed for the dining hall within the ship.
I planned to use this opportunity to share my strategy with the Hero.
I needed to tell him about the preparations for Spring's subjugation, the gimmicks, the weaknesses, and the priority recruitment targets among potential companions.
There would be other moments, but this was the optimal timing.
Ordinarily the Saintess did not openly hand out companion recommendations, supply lists, or boss gimmicks — but for me to keep my life comfortably intact, this was essential work.
The ship's interior was suitably ornate, carrying a dignified, substantial elegance, and at last we arrived before the dining hall doors.
It was a fairly large vessel, and inside the dining hall a number of crew members were already eating.
The moment we entered, countless eyes turned toward us — but since there was not a soul aboard who didn't know our identities, the stares did not linger long.
I registered that those brief glances had concentrated on my face and body, but I saw no need to let the discomfort show on the surface.
They probably had no idea how obvious their staring was.
Tsk.
I clicked my tongue inwardly and moved to take a seat — only to hear a simultaneous click of the tongue from right beside me.
"Tsk."
The Hero sat down with a faintly furrowed brow, for some reason I couldn't place — whether irritation or something else.
The moment our eyes met he smoothed his expression at once, but it was a curious thing.
Of course, the Hero was simply feeling a severe displeasure at the way those men were looking at his Saintess.
Jealousy, most likely.
The Saintess was entirely unaware of this fact, and began writing down the words she had planned to say.
Strictly speaking, it was the world-setting exposition the Saintess delivered after the tutorial while traveling to the Empire, with a few additions of my own — but those "few additions" were the entire point.
I believe you already know of the First Saintess and the star that fell from the heavens, and of how the mud and the beasts vanished.
It is a past that can now be found only in history from long, long ago — but that is not what we must focus on.
The Holy Kingdom worships Stella, the First Saintess, and the star that journeyed with her as its gods.
We still remember the day the Emperor died, the last dragon fell, and the sky itself was torn asunder.
And as the years passed, the mud and the beasts appeared once more. From among them a king was raised, and they gained intelligence.
Please kill them.
For me.
The last words I did not write — only swallowed down inside myself.
And then came more.
Daydream — Spring.
Sweltering Heat — Estas.
Foliage — Caliph.
Snow Country — Zima.
And last, the King of Beasts — the Demon King.
Slaying them is the duty the stars have bestowed upon you.
I wanted the Hero to kill them for my sake.
For all people to continue living, killing them is the only answer.
For my life to continue, killing them was the only answer.
Please fight for everyone.
Please fight for selfish me.
Please save the world, Hero.
Save me.
The Hero answered my question.
Still smiling — smiling more brightly than anything else — he replied.
"Understood."
"Saintess."
Which words had he answered?
The ones written on the paper — or the ones that never quite made it out of my heart?
I could not know.
Swept up in the moment, I let everything I had meant to say go blank and white, and simply looked at him.