Growing Supporting Characters -2-
Mihail was gazing up at the blue sky. A vast expanse of blue dotted with fluffy white clouds. The sun rising red on the horizon. It was the perfect landscape for setting aside complicated thoughts.
And right now, Mihail's mind was a tangled mess.
Why.
Everything felt ruined. The sprint toward revenge. The hope of appearing as a good person to that boy. All of it had crumbled into illusions.
He'd hated that man so much. Thought he could never understand him.
"Haa..."
Yet he turned out to be the very person Mihail had longed to meet.
God was truly cruel. Or no—perhaps Mihail was the fool.
He'd squandered countless chances, only driving nails into the man instead. He hadn't even begun his atonement.
Not a simple verbal apology. Not even a bow to convey his heart.
There was no way he could approach him as 'Mihail.' Not after everything he'd done. At the Academy. In the dungeons. Every single moment.
He'd always shown his worst side. There was no hope left, he thought.
His chest felt suffocating, his heart flinching at the mere sight of the man. And now, he couldn't even look at his face. A melancholy he couldn't shake.
It was all his own doing. No one else's fault.
"The worst."
With the question 'Why did you do that?' lingering, he'd counter himself: 'Was that really the best you could do?'
Trapped on an endless cliff, unable to flee or advance.
"Really..."
Closing his eyes brought back the cruel words he'd hurled, vivid as ever.
—You're not needed, scum like you.
—You're trash! Trash that can't even be picked up again!
—Why don't you show some consideration for the weak? You could if you wanted!
"It's so absurd, words fail me..."
"Who was considerate of whom? There was someone else who's been looking out all this time."
Mihail knew nothing of his story, and the man would keep it hidden to the end. That was his nature.
At the Academy. In the slums. He never shared his own sorrows.
Knowing that, Mihail couldn't unclench his fist.
The man already despised him. Was disappointed. Despaired.
If only someone would tell him. Then he could apologize for everything.
Even knowing the pain wouldn't fade.
With thousands of nails already in his heart, Mihail had driven in another spike. His nose stung at the thought.
Idiot.
His mind felt fogged, like a maze. One wrong step, and he'd be lost again.
What was right? What was wrong? Mihail couldn't find the path.
"Haa..."
How long had he sat on the bench, staring blankly at the sky?
—...Yo?!
Hm?
A small voice whispered in his ear. Mihail turned his head slightly toward the sound, curious about its flustered owner.
Who's that?
There was Shuen, diligently handing out flyers. Spotting Mihail, she beamed and waved enthusiastically.
"Hi yo!"
"Ah... Shuen."
"Yup yo! How've you been yo?! Commoner?"
"Uh...?"
"Oops, sorry yo! Habit! Ahem! How have you been, Senior Mihail yo?"
Shuen approached with a radiant smile, wearing a blue vest, and greeted him warmly. Then she thrust a stack of flyers at him.
Buy ♥Hot Bar♥, get another Hot Bar free? 1+1 Event!
"Take it yo!"
Shuen's face was more serious than ever, as if she'd erased all past pain from her mind.
"The convenience store's running an event yo."
"An event...?"
Shuen glanced around, then whispered in Mihail's ear.
"The boss has lost it yo..."
"R-Really?"
"Yup yo...!"
Mihail floundered, unsure how to respond to her earnest expression. He'd tried using her to get close to Ricardo before, leaving her with bitter wounds.
"That is..."
As Shuen leaned in too close, Mihail scooted back on the bench.
"You're too clo—"
Ignoring his fluster, Shuen pressed on.
"...So you've finally bowed to my status yo?!"
"...Huh?"
"Don't bully or harass this humble commoner Shuen, and rest easy yo. And don't hold onto the past stuff yo!"
"..."
"I'm gonna date a hot guy someday yo. And this is a secret yo."
"..."
"Buy a spinach lunchbox today, half off... that's the deal yo."
"I see."
"Amazing, right yo?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Here's your coupon yo."
(Secret from the Boss)
Special discount inside!
Shuen nodded as she stuffed the flyer into Mihail's arms, spouting nonsense like, "If heaven exists, it's a convenience store."
"Gotta go yo. Hanna said no wasting these by end of day yo!"
"W-Wait, Shuen!"
"Yes yo?!"
"Um..."
Shuen tilted her head at his hesitation, then flashed a bright smile.
"Oh...! This...!"
"Hm?"
"Forgot your coupon."
Mihail's eyes trembled as he stared at the coupon clutched in his hand.
"I haven't apologized yet..."
—Take these flyers, you lowly commoners!
Mihail bowed deeply to Shuen's retreating back, gratitude in his heart.
*
"Urk..."
Yuria, sprawled on the ground, looked up at Malik with cold eyes. She hadn't landed a single hit—her body wouldn't cooperate.
"Monster..."
"If I'm a monster, what does that make him? A god?"
"..."
Malik sneered down at her, infusing it with sleaze that would make Ricardo trip.
"Can't even pierce an Expert's guard? How do you plan to dodge a Sword Master's blade?"
"How am I supposed to dodge a Sword Master's sword...!"
"Even I can't dodge a Sword Master's strike."
Yuria let out a hollow laugh at his blunt admission, forcing her limp legs to stand.
"Forest friend ticket...! You promised you'd keep it."
"Of course."
"Hyaah!"
—Thwack!
"Slow. A bear cub at a friend's house could hit faster."
"Who keeps a bear at home!"
"...I do find it odd sometimes."
Malik watched the staggering Yuria. Her relentless drive over two weeks was impressive. Other students had given up, but this pink-haired girl stayed till the end. Impressive, honestly.
Even with vast holy power, without application, it was useless in hand-to-hand.
And his fists didn't discriminate by gender.
—Thwack!
"Agh!"
The top student lives up to her rank.
She didn't realize it, but her healing magic repaired damaged muscles and boosted their strength. Nonstop growth from the healing department's top seat. Malik thought it remarkable.
At this intensity, sword department kids would be rolling on the floor.
"Excellent, Cadet Yuria of third year."
"Don't praise me! I can't even respond...!"
"Hm. Then I should talk more."
For the diligent top student, Malik began listing the virtues a healer must have.
"As a senior who's seen the battlefield, let me teach you a healer's virtues."
"...Ugh! Just let me hit you once!"
"One. Survive to the end."
—Pow...!
"No matter where you are."
—Pow...!
"Even against unbeatable foes, a healer must live. That's when the vanguard risks their life to protect you."
"...Just take a hit already!!"
Malik lightly caught Yuria's punch and said, "Two."
"Two. A healer must identify the wound's source and heal it. Poison, disease, curse, bleeding—diagnose quickly and heal efficiently."
"Teach that in class!"
"Learning by body sticks fastest and longest. Like this."
Malik swept Yuria's limp leg lightly. Watching her collapse powerlessly, he smiled contentedly, but Yuria glared daggers.
"Surface fixes aren't true healing. Got it, Cadet Yuria?"
"Grrrh!"
"Impressive resolve."
Yuria pushed off the ground with her fist, raising her trembling legs. Now fueled by sheer injustice—she'd land one hit if it killed her.
"Just once! Let me hit you!"
Malik smiled. "No."
Malik was a miser.
*
Time flows on.
In Yuria's dreams appeared a woman single-handedly sweeping away soldiers. And herself, soaked in blood, smiling.
—Haa... Unable to grasp the dream's meaning, Yuria thought as she watched her dream self.
She'd make that technique her own.
—Desolate Aria.