Hanamana's Invitation (2)
"Sion? Senior?"
To walk in right at the moment I was about to speak. The situation—holding Sion in my arms—could easily spark weird misunderstandings, but telling the truth would clear it right up.
Quietly.
I raised one hand and pressed my index finger to my lips in a shush gesture, making sure Sion, buried against my chest, wouldn't hear. Fortunately, Hanamana caught on to what I wanted. She clapped both hands over her mouth and quietly watched my eyes.
"Sion. Hanamana's here."
"Hope sensei…"
Her trembling had eased by now—she was taking deep breaths—but she still wouldn't lift her head.
"Your answer…"
Her voice trembled as she demanded a response. But…
"I'll tell you later."
"……."
I had no intention of telling Hanamana that I was a regressor or that I'd been their comrade in my previous life, so I couldn't give her the answer in front of Hanamana. As soon as I put it off, Sion buried her face even deeper into my chest and clutched the hem of my shirt at my sides with both hands.
Sion…
A blatantly fearful reaction. She'd realized that delaying the answer now, with Hanamana here, meant I wouldn't tell Hanamana. The lie about the Demon King returning had given her the push to start rehab, but that presence was so overwhelming it could burden her—a double-edged sword. From watching her for a month, Sion was a hero with transcendent spirit, but in the end, just a human. If her mind shattered… what the hell would I do? If what I'd done for her ended up breaking her instead, then I…
'Hope sensei has no plans to tell Hanamana!'
Just as Hope predicted, Sion had seen right through his intentions. But the direction her thoughts spiraled was far from what he'd expected.
'Nao's gone, Hanamana too, and Iri… Next time we fight, it'll be me alone. I have to make it happen. I'll save the world alone, defeat the Demon King…'
Sion was a hero born in wartime. When the war against the demonkin raged, all humanity had united around her. Everyone had banded together for survival, cheering her on, sharing the fateful burden with comrades by her side.
But now, she alone knew the crisis looming. Broken in body and mind, bearing a secret no one else knew, she trudged forward—slowly, so slowly—toward facing the Demon King once more.
'No… I'm not totally alone yet. There's one. Just one comrade left in this world…'
Hope Harvey. The only one who'd said she was needed again.
'Sensei's all I have now. No one but Hope sensei…!'
Afraid he'd suddenly leave her—someone who couldn't even walk on her own—Sion gripped his clothes with all her might.
Senior? What the…
Hanamana had gotten my signal to stay quiet, so she stood frozen without speaking, but I could guess what her eyes were saying.
Still, I had no spare attention for her right now. Sion was clinging to me; I had to soothe her quietly and wait for her to calm.
"Sion. It's okay. It'll definitely be okay."
Hanamana alternated glances between trembling Sion—still gripping tight—and me. Eventually, she seemed to grasp the situation. She approached on silent feet, knelt beside us, and enveloped Sion in a hug, wrapping her whole body around her protectively.
"It's okay, Sion. Hanamana's here too."
Here with you, Hanamana said. Probably straight from the manual. The go-to line for reassuring someone in a panic attack. Just knowing you're not alone brings comfort.
But even with Hanamana joining in, Sion wouldn't let go of me. Was she blind to her surroundings? At this rate, she'd stay locked in her own head, clinging until she wore herself out—either snapping out of it or falling asleep.
"……."
How much time passed? There were no more reactions from Sion. She still held on tight, but I gently took her hand, pried her fingers loose bit by bit, and separated us.
"Asleep?"
"Seems like it."
Hanamana stepped back. I lifted Sion, leaning against me, and checked—out cold. After confirming her vitals and that she was truly asleep, I settled her back in the wheelchair and finally caught my breath.
"Um, does Sion… get like this often?"
"Do you know what state it is?"
"Looked like a panic attack from a seizure."
She knew exactly. Of course—Hanamana was a rehab specialist too.
"Right. You figured it out and helped without me saying. Thanks, Hanamana."
I'd meant to say it happened worse than this plenty of times usually, but that might worry her too much, so I held back. Sion's rehab was mine to handle alone. No passing it off to anyone.
"Glad it helped. Honestly, first time doing it for real—only read it in the manual."
She let out a relieved sigh and flashed a bright smile. "First time" probably meant she usually just knocked them out with sleep magic. Per the manual. True to her deep grasp of magic, she knew exactly why we'd handled Sion that way.
Anyway, the unexpected mess meant sending Sion back to our quarters in the papal palace, so Hanamana's dinner invitation regretfully ended here.
"With Sion like this, we'll head out. Dinner was great."
"Um… Could Hanamana come too? I'm worried about Sion…"
"Sure, that's fine."
"Thank you, senior."
Since she volunteered, I let Hanamana take the wheelchair and walked alongside.
"By the way, Hanamana."
"Yes?"
"Have you learned all the skills and magic I classify under rehabilitation medicine?"
Rehab centers in this world fixed war-torn people. Plenty with paranoia, stress disorders, seizures. She'd handled it with sleep so far—had she picked up the rest?
"Almost all. Just one magic I couldn't learn."
"One? Which?"
Recover.
Recover. The magic that permanently restored a damaged patient—just a tiny bit. Handy for quick rehab gains.
"Come to think of it, the empire's director didn't have Recover either."
"Where'd you learn it, senior?"
"As a kid helping elders back home, someone said the local church taught it, so I went and learned. The priest who gave me the spellbook was so old he could barely move—said the church would close soon."
"I see. Some secret magic passed only in remote villages?"
Even Hanamana said that? She was an elf over two centuries old, aptitude for all magic, deep knowledge and curiosity—actively engaging human society to study it. And she spoke like she'd never even heard of it… Not just some obscure outlier?
"The description in the textbook got me hooked—searched everywhere, but couldn't learn it."
"How's it special?"
"Permanent stat change—not dropping, but raising them. Limited to past stats, cooldown on the target not the caster, barely any cost. Just fascinating all around."
Hmm… Never realized Recover was seen that way. Time to adjust my view. In rehab, it was always just support. If it's that rare, better cut it from the textbooks. When I have time, revisit that church, grab the spellbook, and teach it myself.
"Senior. Since it came up, could you show me that magic?"
"Show you?"
"Yes, if possible. It's the one you use on Sion, right?"
"Yeah."
"Can't cast on our patients, so when Sion's cooldown's up."
"Mm…"
Sion's Recover cooldown ended tomorrow. No big ask.
"Alright. I'll show you."
"Thank you."
Finally, tomorrow was the last day of the trip. Show Hanamana Recover, check her patients together, and wrap up the Praine Holy Nation schedule smoothly.