I Want to Become a Hero
At the same time. Immediately after I finished my call with the Prince. Even after the light of the communication orb flickered out, I stared at the crystal for a long while.
'I have a mountain of work to do.'
Immediately after the Prince proposed the professorship, I accepted without hesitation. Because of fame and power? Sure, those could be reasons. But the biggest reason was that I was tempted by the title of "Professor."
Professor. What a sweet-sounding word. In my past life, I had dreamed of becoming a professor. It wasn't that I had some grand ambition; it was just that opening a private practice after leaving the university hospital was difficult, so I stayed at the school. Before I knew it, I had earned a double board certification and was going through an advanced fellowship in trauma surgery.
I had studied so hard that I felt it would be a shame not to earn the title of professor, so I had been aiming for it. But then—'Death from overwork? Death from overwork in my 30s?'
I must have pushed myself too hard. I had collapsed right when success was within arm's reach. Of course, that was a regret from nearly twenty years ago. In this life, I wasn't particularly attached to that title. However,
— "Then, where should I undergo training?"
— "What are you talking about?"
— "To become a professor, shouldn't I first train under another professor?"
— "Is that what you were worried about? You will be the first professor of this course, so whose subordinate would you be training under?"
As soon as I heard the Prince say that, I accepted the position as if bewitched. A professor! And I got to skip graduate school and the training process entirely! Anyone who has been through graduate school would surely empathize with my choice. To skip all that grueling labor and immediately reap the fruits? Even if I knew it was a poisoned chalice, many would still pick it up. And I was one of them.
Of course, I had other calculations. 'Even if I refused, I'd just get a leash put around my neck later anyway.'
That’s the nature of "misunderstanding" scenarios. No matter how much you twist and turn to escape, you’re destined to be caught. So, if I was going to be dragged into it, I figured it would look better and I’d be treated better if I walked in on my own two feet. After all, recruitment usually comes with better treatment than conscription.
There was only one thing that bothered me.
'Sigh... "Black Magic Defense Methods" class, huh.'
The name really bothered me. I would have preferred something else, like "Counter-Black Magic Tactics." It sounded like the kind of class where the professor would be replaced due to some unsavory incident before the first year was even up. I had hinted at this to the Prince, but he didn't seem to have any intention of changing it.
'What can I do? I’ll just have to prepare thoroughly.'
Of course, the Prince had also guaranteed that he would mobilize all his resources to protect me and those around me. But you can never be too prepared.
'First... I should meet with my Master tomorrow and talk about it.'
As it happened, tomorrow was the day I was scheduled to meet my Master. It seemed necessary to discuss various things related to these matters. With the wisdom of a Master who had kept secrets for a thousand years, it would surely be helpful in many ways.
I opened the notebook on my desk. I picked up my fountain pen and began to organize the items to discuss with my Master tomorrow. I was in the middle of organizing my thoughts when—
Knock, knock.
My hand stopped at the sound of the door. I put down the pen and looked toward the door.
"Who is it? Eri?"
She was the most likely person to visit at this hour. Sometimes, she’d come by asking me to make her a late-night snack.
"...."
However, the silence from beyond the door told me it wasn't Eri. Soon, a thin voice drifted in from the other side.
"...Brother. I can't sleep. Could we talk for a moment?"
I opened the door. Freya was standing under the dim light of the hallway. She was in her pajamas, barefoot, wearing only a pair of slippers. Her hair was disheveled, as if she had been tossing and turning in her bed for a long time before finally giving up.
"Th...thank you."
She said that, quickly scanning behind me. Her fingers were gripping the hem of her pajamas so tightly they had turned white. As soon as I saw that, a sigh welled up in my throat.
'Acute stress response.'
She hadn't said it, but I had already noticed it in her daily life. Since she arrived home yesterday, she had been constantly tense, as if she were still back there. There were signs of depression, she startled at the slightest sound, and now, even sleep disorders. It was a textbook "acute stress response."
You could say it was a state similar to PTSD. It was also the one psychiatric condition that I, despite not being a psychiatrist, could diagnose as well as any professor. It was a staple symptom for trauma surgery patients and their guardians. I had had to request collaborative care for this far too often.
However, Freya wasn't at the PTSD stage yet; she was at the stage before that. A stage where a little rest would make things better. If this continued longer, the acute stress response would turn into a stress disorder, and if it lasted more than a month, it would become PTSD. Naturally, I had no intention of letting my younger sister reach that point.
"You can't sleep?"
"Yes..."
"Come in."
I had seen many patients like this. I had also learned how to help them prevent it from worsening into PTSD. Should I call it fortunate? Patients in this state could recover quickly with just a little psychological first aid.
'Thankfully, Freya came to me first.'
Then, I had no choice but to help her so she wouldn't deteriorate. For now, their bodies were still stuck in that place. Therefore, I lowered my voice and made my movements as slow as possible. Loud noises, fast movements, unexpected physical contact—these sudden stimuli trigger hyperarousal in these patients. What was most important here was giving their brains time to accept that this place was safe.
Freya crossed the threshold. She entered my room cautiously and didn't even lean back when she sat in the chair. This, too, was a typical symptom. I had her sit in the chair near the door.
"The room is a bit warm."
I didn't close the door. Small considerations like this give them the peace of mind that they can escape at any time. "Would you like some tea?"
"...Please."
Again, sudden stimuli are forbidden. Even common-sense actions must be cleared with the patient. It was to help her adapt to this space.
'The tea...'
Chamomile tea with linden honey would be good. It helps stabilize the hyperactive sympathetic nervous system. Even if it wasn't a miracle cure, it was much better than nothing. I stood up and brewed the flower tea in two cups.
"It's hot, so take it slow."
I placed the teacup in Freya's hands. She held it with trembling fingers. I waited quietly for her to open her mouth. I didn't even ask, "What's wrong?" because even that question could be dangerous for a patient. It was an act that could unintentionally push the patient back into the past. I just had to wait until they could voluntarily bring up that past.
I waited until Freya's breathing became deeper. Finally, she opened her mouth herself.
"...When I close my eyes, I go back there."
"...."
"My friends... I keep seeing my friends who trusted me and followed me being hurt by those people."
A classic flashback. It was a natural reaction. Typical protagonists might easily shake off such a major event. I was able to shake things off well enough right after my clinic was attacked. But that wasn't normal. In fact, Freya's reaction was perfectly normal. A kidnapping incident at the age of 17. There aren't many girls who could be stoic after such a major event. Especially if they weren't like Eri, a girl who had lived a rough life from a young age.
In times like this, three elements were important. These simple initial measures often determined the rest of a person's life.
"...Brother."
"Yes."
"Did everyone worry because of me? I keep thinking that maybe I shouldn't have gone out to find my friends, and that I caused you and our parents to worry."
"It just means they love you that much. We're fine. So, if it's too hard, you can tell our parents. If that feels like a burden, tell me."
One: Let them know that there are people around them who love and trust them. Simply diversifying their options at this moment allows the patient to feel in control and at ease.
"But what if those people appear again..."
"I told you, they will never be able to threaten you again. Father said so, too. And I guarantee it."
Two: Constantly remind them that this place is safe.
"Still, Karl got hurt. I shouldn't have suggested we leave the prison... If we had just stayed still, you and my sister would have come to save us."
"Freya."
And the most important third element.
"If you hadn't moved that day, we would have had to search every inch of that hideout to find you all. And if you hadn't resisted, your friends would have been in even more danger."
"...."
"That wasn't your fault. On the contrary, you saved your friends."
Emphasize over and over again that it isn't their fault. This part is the most important. Because the factor that destroys people the most in PTSD is guilt. Therefore, I said to Freya,
"Do you know, Freya? I once dreamed of becoming a hero."
"...."
Although I walked the path of a doctor, I sometimes admired emergency responders or firefighters. For one reason.
"A doctor, or rather, a healer, is a profession that can only do something after a person has been hurt. When a doctor moves, the outcome is already decided. All I can do is prevent it from becoming the worst-case scenario."
Freya listened with bated breath.
"But the world needs people who move before someone gets hurt, before the situation becomes the worst."
That was why I admired emergency responders and firefighters. They are the ones who save people before they get hurt, or before it becomes irreversible. I thought their contribution to saving lives was even greater than mine. Of course, it might sound easy for me to say since I haven't experienced those jobs myself. But what I wanted to say was that it isn't just doctors who contribute to saving a life.
"If you hadn't been there, I might have been too late even if I had arrived. You, and the other students. It was because each of you looked out for one another that we achieved this best possible result. I just added the finishing touch to your efforts."
"...."
"Freya. I am truly proud of you. Your courage saved your friends."
I clearly remembered the moment I arrived, seeing Freya facing those two villains. Even though she didn't pull out her glacier magic, she was clearly protecting the students right there. Therefore, I believed the MVP of this incident was not me, but Freya.
"You did really well, Freya."
I watched Freya silently for a while. Freya's shoulders trembled. At first, slightly. Then, heavily. And finally, her body shook so violently that she could no longer hold the teacup she had been cupping with both hands. I quickly took the cup and placed it on the table.
"...Sob."
Freya buried her face in her hands. I waited silently until her shoulders stopped shaking.
***
It was late into the night when Freya returned.
"Thank you, Brother."
Before stepping out the door, Freya looked back and said. Julian waved his hand, seeing her off. Leaving Julian’s farewell behind, Freya walked down the hallway. She stopped in front of her room. A faint light was leaking from under the door crack. A light that hadn't gone to sleep.
When she opened the door, a familiar sight greeted her.
"Oh, young lady."
Erika was sitting on a mattress she had laid out next to Freya's bed. Erika had taken over half of Freya's bed, having laid out a blanket brought from the annex. It was Erika’s own mischievous way of showing care for Freya, who hadn't been able to sleep the night before after going through such a major ordeal.
"Come on in, young lady."
Erika said, lifting the blanket while acting like a slick old man. Freya chuckled and sat down on the bed, facing Erika. Erika said,
"How is it? Glad you talked to the teacher?"
Freya nodded. Then, she hugged the blanket and didn't say anything for a while. Erika didn't rush her either. The blanket Erika had brought covered both their shoulders. In that warmth, Freya opened her mouth.
"...Sister."
"Yeah."
"I have a new dream, other than becoming a judicial officer."
Erika's eyebrows rose slightly. "Suddenly?"
Freya looked down at her hands resting on her knees without a word. Julian's words played in her mind.
— A healer is a profession that can only do something after a person has been hurt.
— But the world needs people who move before someone gets hurt, before the situation becomes the worst.
"A judicial officer... is someone who moves after an incident has occurred," Freya said. "They only mobilize after a victim has been created, and they have to remain unaware of such crimes until they become long-term cold cases. By then, it's closer to punishing the criminal than protecting someone."
Of course, she didn't mean that was bad. It was just that the direction was different from what Freya wanted.
"I... want to be ahead of that."
"How?"
"I want to move before an irreversible result occurs. I want to be someone who moves first and protects people right there."
Erika's smile deepened. "Then, what kind of job do you want to do?"
Freya looked at Erika with straight, honest eyes. "I want to become a hero, like you."
A hero. Righteous people who not only fight the magical beasts outside the walls but also rescue people from evil mages and block the schemes of dark mages.
"My reason is different from yours... but still. I want to become a hero, too. If I can't, then at least a knight..."
Erika's eyes widened. One beat. And then, Erika's lips slowly curled upward. Erika kicked off the blanket and sat up.
"What are you talking about? You’ve already proven you have the qualifications to be a hero this time."
"Yes?"
"You were the first to step up and find the traces that other adults hadn't noticed, and you saved your friends. Even before me and the teacher arrived. If you don't have the qualifications to be a hero, then who does?"
Erika carefully wrapped her hands around Freya's. "And I think it would be great to have a reliable younger sister watching my back, don't you?"
This time, it was Freya's turn for her eyes to widen. "Sister?"
"To do that, you have to start with your health, like me." Erika picked up the blanket she had kicked away and covered Freya with it. "Let's sleep for now. And starting tomorrow, you’re going to wake up early with me and train together. You have to eat well, too."
"Sister..."
"Go to sleep now, young lady."
Erika laid Freya down on the bed with a gentle force. Freya didn't resist and lay down. Erika also laid her body down right next to her. Freya closed her eyes for a moment, then spoke to Erika again.
"...Sister."
"Yeah."
"How can you be so confident?"
"I’m a genius recognized by the teacher. So there’s no need to doubt myself."
"Sister."
"Yeah..."
"What did you do when you first went through something like me?"
"Hmm... probably... just ate and slept..."
"Sister."
"...Zzz..."
"...."
Freya listened to Erika's light breathing and closed her mouth again. How could the sister who came over saying she was worried about her be the one to fall asleep first? But just feeling that warmth beside her gave her a sense of relief that was hard to explain. Freya leaned into that warmth and slowly relaxed her tension. Soon, the room was filled only with the small breathing sounds of the two girls. That night, Freya fell into a deep, sound sleep. It was a peaceful night without nightmares.