Mental Illness (1)
I used to be an adult man in South Korea. Perhaps because of that, I still carried the sensibilities of an ordinary modern Korean — that you mustn't kill people, that a man mustn't act like a woman.
Of all those, what I hated most was clinging to someone else. Obsessive attachment. From the very start, I had only ever grown up in circumstances where leaning on anyone was out of the question. In my previous life, I'd had to work in my parents' place. In this one, lean on someone and there was every chance of being dragged into a back alley and raped.
Even after I gained companions I could rely on, that principle never changed. From where I stood they were hardly more than children, already straining just to keep fighting. Was a piece of luggage like me supposed to start acting spoiled on top of that? So I couldn't stand the sight of a female adventurer fawning over a male one, either. If you're going to survive by carrying on like that, why become an adventurer at all? Just go work in a brothel.
Maybe a personality like this is why my imprisonment is even harder to endure now.
And yet — now. I might have to throw myself into the very thing I want least to do.
"You mean to feign madness?"
"That's right."
The so-called plan to become a madwoman. Behave nothing like my usual self, and make my companions sever their affection for me.
After I'd scrapped the plan to split the hero's party, I turned it over carefully. Why do my companions like me this much? What reason could they have for treating a useless porter like me as something so precious? It certainly isn't because I'm capable. So perhaps I'd won their favor for some other reason. And if so, the cause of that favor?
"Mental care."
"What is mental care?"
"Tending to the mind."
That was it. Mentally, I was a fully formed adult, and so I could look after my companions' minds. As I've said before, I would whisper warm words to the ones who were struggling, and offer them plenty of advice as their elder in spirit. Every time I did, they eased those deathly faces and leaned on me. Proof that I had become the party's emotional pillar.
And though I hate to admit it, looked at objectively I fall very much on the cute side. A little cat girl setting your heart at ease — who wouldn't like that?
But what if that same cat girl who had won their affection suddenly started clinging like a lunatic? What if she did nothing but cause enormous trouble, with behavior she had never once shown before? They could let it slide kindly for a day or two. But what if it dragged on for months?
People hold on to what has value. Would they go on imprisoning someone who no longer has any at all?
The groundwork is already laid. Ever since that incident — Servant exists! — the Sword of Trust has been deeply suspicious of my mental state. So if I act as though a mental illness has suddenly taken a sharp turn for the worse, it won't even feel unnatural. Even if my companions try to treat me, they can't. I was never ill to begin with. If effort gets them nowhere, they'll give up on me. In theory, a perfect plan.
"This way, I can escape without any threat of sacrificing someone else."
"Hmm."
Servant, however, seemed to see it differently.
"Would the hero's party not, rather, be pleased?"
"Pleased? Why?"
"Even now, do they not look after Lady Fren as one would a spoiled child? If you were to cling to them, might they not like it all the more?"
"Haha. Servant, you really don't understand."
A fantasy world for you, I suppose. Their view of the mind lags behind the modern age.
"People yearn for what they cannot have."
"Pardon?"
"It's a common enough tale, isn't it? A beggar yearns for the rich, and the rich yearn for the poor, who have no money and yet live free. What do you suppose that means?"
"I am afraid I do not follow."
"The Sword of Trust is content looking after a reliable me. Not some absurd, obsessive cat."
Put it bluntly. Back in our adventuring days, if I had cried every day, clung to them, and done nothing but lean, would my companions have liked me?
Not in the slightest.
They like me because I possess a quality of mind they lack. Without that, I am nothing more and nothing less than a cat passing in the street. It's the same even now. What they clearly want is a me who will not break her pride, no matter how intensely they look after her. The sight of me surrendering would hardly be a pleasant one, from their point of view.
"And since you're here, Servant, the acting will be all the easier. If I show them obsession and hallucinations at the same time, what can even Yusia do about it?"
"Hmmmm."
"So I'm counting on you for that part. Just don't go gathering people."
"That will not do."
Servant shook his head.
"Please permit me to gather the people themselves. Do we not also require a backup plan?"
"I refuse any plan that puts someone in danger."
"But it is necessary, if Lady Fren is to escape."
"I have no intention of walking out with someone else's life as collateral."
That sort of thing revolts me. All the more when I think of the thirty people sacrificed because of me, and of Mick.
When I refused so stubbornly, Servant let out a sigh.
"Then please, at least do this much."
"Do what?"
"Every day, think with all your might that you wish to escape."
"I'm already doing that, though?"
"More strongly. With a wish poured into it."
"Mm. All right."
Now and then Servant says things I can't make sense of. But it costs me nothing, so I decided to go along with it.
Starting tomorrow morning, the madness begins in earnest.
Yusia Frontline's mornings are just enough.
Up at half past seven. Just enough exercise, and then she goes to wake Fren.
"Fren will be cute today, too."
Picturing Fren fast asleep, Yusia smiles.
"Fren. Wake up. It's morning."
"Mmm. Haaahm."
Woken, Fren rises with a yawn, and from the very start of the morning Yusia felt her heart washed clean. She gathered Fren into her arms just as she was and carried her to the bath — a pleasant way to meet the morning.
On any other day, Fren would have entrusted her body to her and let herself be washed. Today, she does something else.
"Ah, no."
"Hm? What is it?"
"You mustn't take my clothes off."
"Fren. You can't bathe with your clothes on."
"But it's embarrassing."
"Why?"
"Because Servant is watching us……."
"……."
Yusia barely held back tears that had nearly burst free.
Servant was an imaginary being Fren had previously insisted was real. Yusia, however, does not acknowledge that he exists. She had even enlisted the Pope's aid and searched every inch of Fren's surroundings, and yet not a single being was at Fren's side. There had been a time when she sensed something wrong beside Fren and raved like a madwoman, but by now she was writing it off as her own delusion.
"Fren. There is no Servant."
"No. He's right there."
Yusia looked where Fren was pointing. Her eyes saw nothing at all.
"There's no one there, though?"
"Yusia. Why won't you believe me?"
"Hm?"
"Servant exists. He exists! Even right now, he's staring straight at me!"
"Fren. Let's calm down. Did you have a bad dream?"
"It's not a dream! Right now! Right now! Right now! He's watching me!"
Yusia kept trying to soothe her, but it was no use. In the end she had to wash Fren with a Clean spell.
"Washing with water would be better, though."
"I don't want Servant to see me naked."
"Mm. All right."
Yusia decided she would understand. Even if Fren was seeing phantoms, Fren was still Fren.
But when they went to breakfast, she had no choice but to be startled.
"Ahh."
"F-Fren? What's the matter?"
"What?"
"Since when do you say ahh first?"
Normally Fren was the one who stubbornly insisted on feeding herself. Today, for some reason, she was fussing to be fed before anything else.
"You're going to feed me anyway, Yusia."
"Well, that's true, but."
"Hurry and feed me. Ahh."
"Mmm."
Yusia fed a piece of meat to Fren, who had opened her mouth adorably. Fren chewed, working at it — and then.
"Ptui."
"Fren?"
"The meat isn't cooked very well."
She was being picky, something she never, ever did. While Yusia sat frozen in shock, Fren hopped down from her chair.
"I can't eat breakfast today. Yusia."
"W-Wait! You can't!"
"Are you thinking of forcing something that tastes bad on me?"
"That's not it, but."
"Then I'll go back to my room ahead of you."
All Yusia could do was stare blankly as Fren pattered away.
"Fren must be in a bit of a bad mood today."
Thinking so, she cleared the table. With Fren not eating, her own appetite had gone with it.
Once the table was cleared, Yusia went to the room so the two of them could go on their walk. She opened Fren's door — and froze where she stood.
"Hic. Hic... hic."
Fren was crying. Yusia pulled her into an embrace at once.
"Fren? What is it? What's wrong?"
"I-I'm sorry. Yusia."
"For what? Sorry for what?"
"Ah, for not eating breakfast. You set that meal out for me, and I refused it. Hic... hic."
"No. Fren. If it doesn't suit your taste, these things happen."
"No. I'm useless. You're trying so hard for me, and all I do is fuss over the food. I should just die!"
"No!"
Yusia cried it out at once, nearly a scream.
"Fren isn't bad at all!"
"I-I'm not bad?"
"Right! Of course not!"
"Heh, hehe."
Fren clung to Yusia's embrace and rubbed her head against her without restraint, and Yusia patted her back.
"Have you calmed down now?"
"Yes. Let's go for a walk!"
"Let's."
Out on their walk, Fren looked to be in excellent spirits. Yusia thought it a relief that she seemed to have settled.
That feeling shattered inside of a minute.
"Oh, so that's the sort of thing Servant likes. Ah, I like swimming. Why does a cat like swimming, you ask? Because I've never been in the water? It's closer to yearning, really."
"Fren?"
"Ah, Yusia. Servant asked about my hobbies. Won't you answer too, Yusia?"
"Servant doesn't exi……."
"Servant does exist!"
Fren shrieked, her voice raw with it, and waved a hand at the empty air as if someone truly stood beside her.
"Here! I'm touching him! Can't you see?"
"Fren."
"Aren't you on my side, Yusia? Why won't you believe me, all this time!"
"That's—."
Thud. It was the moment a lump of lead dropped into the pit of Yusia's heart.
And Fren, as well.
I can't stand this. I really can't.
She was hurting no less, deep inside.
Fren hates the Yusia who imprisoned her. At the same time, she feels a debt of gratitude toward her. Even now, imprisoning her as she is, Yusia has saved her life time and again, and that debt still holds. And yet here she is, spitting words of hatred at that very woman.
It felt as though her duty as a human being had fallen to the dirt. Even so, she clenched her teeth.
This is for both of us.
Fren gains her freedom, and Yusia stops killing. Two birds with one stone. This small sacrifice now is what will stop the far greater one waiting down the line.
So please, bear with it. Yusia.
Fren believed it, firmly.
Right up until Yusia, trembling, raised her hand.
"Huh?"
Smack!
Fren lost consciousness.