What a Hero Is (5)
“Here. Hot milk. Go inside, drink it, and get some proper rest.”
“Ah—th-thank you······.”
Standing before her door, Eve accepted the cup of hot milk Offen had prepared himself and reached for the doorknob.
All she had to do was turn it, step inside, and sleep. Yet she did not.
“O-Offen, Baron. I-I’m a failure. Is it… is it really all right for me to rest easy, the way you said······?”
She simply wanted to hear him say it one more time—that she was allowed to rest. It was a small, childish whim she could indulge only because she already knew he would give her the answer she needed.
“You failed, so of course you need to rest. Only by resting thoroughly and recharging both body and mind can you look toward the future.”
“Th-that’s true. Ehehe. Thank you.”
At Offen’s reply—not merely that she could rest, but that she must—Eve’s lips curved into a helpless, blissful smile. It was exactly the answer she had hoped for.
“Then… I-I’ll drink it well. Good night. O-Offen, Baron.”
Click.
Satisfied, Eve opened the door and offered him a parting greeting.
“Lady Eve.”
“Y-yes?”
Just as she was about to step inside, Offen called her name once more, holding her there. Meeting the eyes of the girl who had turned back toward him, he added one final thing before they parted.
“You failed, Lady Eve. That much is certain. But that does not make you a failure.”
“Huh? Wh-what do you mean······.”
“Rest well, recover, rise again, and then use that failure as a stepping stone to move forward. Every failure is nothing more than a process—so long as you never give up.”
“······.”
“That’s all I wanted to say. It’s late. Sweet dreams, Lady Eve.”
Offen offered a light, relieved smile, gave a small bow, and turned toward his own room.
“Good night······.”
Only after he had climbed the central staircase and vanished from sight did Eve murmur a quiet farewell toward the lingering warmth he left behind.
Click.
She entered her room, sat on the edge of the bed, and sipped the hot milk he had made for her. It was sweet and warm.
······Just like Offen.
“······.”
Even after she finished the cup, Eve remained sitting blankly on the bed until the last of its residual heat had faded from the porcelain.
“Ah—I-I should sleep. Baron Offen told me to have sweet dreams, so·····.”
His parting words drifted through her mind. She set the empty cup on the small table beside the bed, slipped under the covers, and lay down.
Late at night, in a room so still that not even the wind could be heard, Eve closed her eyes. The quiet, the darkness, the lingering warmth of the milk—everything was perfect for sleep.
Yet she could not fall asleep.
“······Hah.”
The moment her eyes shut, Offen’s face rose against the darkness of her eyelids, and her heart began to pound—thump, thump, thump.
Lady Eve, you are the biggest fool under heaven.
I know better than anyone how hard you worked to fulfill a hero’s duty. That is precisely why I can say this.
The person who has every right to rest—who needs rest more than anyone—isn’t resting at all. How am I supposed to praise someone that stubborn?
Once his face appeared, every word he had spoken earlier flooded her mind. Every single one of them had been aimed not at the great Hero, but at the human being named Eve.
Ever since she became the Hero, being praised as the Hero had been ordinary. Everyone called her “Hero.” Aside from her companions in the Hero’s party, no one ever used her name.
But today, a man had appeared who not only called her Eve—he looked at her as nothing more and nothing less than the person Eve. That simple fact had broken something inside her chest.
“Haaah······ why… why is this happening.”
Every time his face surfaced, heat raced down her spine and her heart hammered wildly. It was a sensation she had never known; reason crumbled, and emotion seized control of her body.
“Baron Offen’s face······ w-won’t leave my head·····.”
These are magnificent hands—hands that leave me nothing but admiration.
Your body is perfectly trained as well. Truly remarkable.
You are not great because you are the Hero. You are great because you are Eve.
The instant she whispered his name, the words he had given her brushed her ears again with perfect clarity—the pure admiration for her roughened hands, the honest awe at her trained body, and the declaration that the person named Eve, hidden beneath the Hero’s mantle, was the one who was truly remarkable.
Every word Offen had spoken that day resonated through her with a force she could not resist.
“Baron Offen… saw me. The person I am······.”
Beneath the dazzling radiance of the Hero, no one had ever looked at the girl named Eve. Offen had. And only today did she learn how joyful, how deeply moving, that recognition could be.
“Not because I’m the Hero… but because I’m Eve… he praised me over and over·····.”
And he had not stopped at simply seeing her. He had praised her until his mouth must have grown tired. None of it had been empty flattery. Every compliment had been sincere. And sincerity always sinks all the way to the depths of the heart. Before she knew it, Eve’s entire being was filled with the warmth of his words.
If you exist for everyone except yourself, then I will exist for you alone.
“And… and he said he would be there… for me.”
She had heard things like “Let’s fight for the Hero!” and “Eve! Leave this to us and go on ahead!” Those cries had been meant to support her so she could fight better, so she could achieve the goals only a Hero could achieve. She had been grateful for her comrades’ words—truly grateful—yet Offen’s promise had sunk far deeper.
“He said… he would be there for me alone. Hehe.”
Because the one he chose to protect was not the Hero, but Eve. He had spoken those words for her sake. In all her years living as the Hero, she had never once heard anyone say they would protect her. The Hero was the strongest—one of the strongest humans alive. She had never even imagined a situation in which she might need protecting.
Lady Eve, set aside a hero’s duties and responsibilities for a while and rest easy. I will fill the void you leave.
From now on, I will save the world. Hero.
Yet Offen had declared, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, that he would protect her. That he would save the world in her place. And he was the only person who could say such a thing without inviting mockery.
Those Great Rifts? I’ll blow every last one of them away.
Because he was the only person in the world who had ever destroyed a Great Rift.
“······Isn’t Baron Offen… the true Hero?”
They had known each other for less than a week, yet somehow he had already become the most important person in her life. He was the benefactor who had restored her younger brother Gid’s legs. He was the first man who had ever looked at Eve instead of the Hero. And he had even declared that he would save the world for her sake.
If that was not a hero, then what was?
“······Hero. Baron Offen is a hero.”
Eve tried to picture him as one—clad in armor, the holy sword at his side, surrounded by throngs of people as flower petals rained down. The image suited him so well it almost hurt.
“······Ugh.”
But the thought that he would make a perfect Hero brought her no joy at all. No—it was worse than that. She simply hated it. Just imagining him surrounded by crowds made her heart twist as if something sharp had pierced it.
“No… n-no. Baron Offen looks far better sitting in his office handling paperwork, just like he does now. He should stay a noble forever, not become a hero. Y-yes. Being a hero is nothing but hardship anyway. He wouldn’t want to become one either.”
She hastily scrubbed the image of “Hero Offen” from her mind.
“Yes. Baron Offen must never become some universal hero. He should just… just be my hero. He said so himself. Yes. That’s right.”
If she had been everyone’s Hero, then he would be Eve’s alone. The moment she settled on that thought, the unpleasant feeling vanished, replaced once more by a gentle, spreading warmth in her chest.
“······My own hero.”
To Eve, Offen was already a hero. A hero was someone who helped, someone who became what was needed, someone who saved. Offen had helped her by healing Gid’s legs. He had become what she needed by being the only one who saw the person named Eve. And with his declaration that he would save the world for her sake, he had rescued her from a hero’s duties and burdens.
That made him the most perfect hero she could ever ask for.
“Ehehe·····.”
For the first time, Eve felt true relief—the knowledge that someone existed who could protect her, someone who would save the world in her place. The tension that had lived in every fiber of her body for eight long years finally loosened, and she was able to sleep deeply.
It was the first proper rest she had taken since the day she became the Hero.