Chapter 13: Shaman and Pig
“Uh-huh...”
I couldn’t do anything but make that random, buffoonish sound.
“... Yeah”
Futaba-san nods while shedding large drops of tears.
You’re strong, enduring all that— are not the thoughtless words of praise I felt like giving her.
“Uh-huh, I see... haha, so even that class rep has the heart to throw people aside...”
I surprised myself with how low, how dark the emotions residing in that mumble were.
Yeah, I knew it wouldn’t be a fun story. And certainly, I understand what those girls decided was somewhat reasonable. Limited recovery items, combat ability, threshold on survivors. Futaba Meiko who wasn’t committing a thing. There couldn’t be a better candidate to cast aside at that first juncture.
I was neither hot-blooded compatriot of justice, nor was I a charitable man of the cloth. So in a similar situation, I’d make the same decision. I could end up, unlike the class rep and Natsukawa-san who hesitated till the very end, spewing uglier, more egotistic than even Satou Aya. Those girls, did nothing wrong.
“Like hell they didn’t...”
Yet, from deep inside my heart, rises a tremendous hatred. Come face to face with a victim of this abdication, an unrelenting contempt, a painful rage sweeps over me.
Because the Futaba-san in front of is that pitiable— is not the reason. It’s because, she’s just like me. Hopelessly incompetent, a useless good-for-nothing.
“If you weren’t some shitty Shaman, but something like a Healer, I’d’ve already left this useless lard and made you a pal.”
Memories of humiliation resurface.
“Hey, aren’t you glad Saitou, your good pal got a shitty vocation. Thanks to Kotarou-kun being a Shaman, I wasn’t discarded by Higuchi-samaa, aren’t you thinking that while hittin’ away. Man, you really got a great friend there. Might be jealous.”
The filthy sensation of spit on my cheek is dredged up.
Yes, it’s because I’m powerless that I lost to Higuchi. It’s because Futaba-san is powerless that she wasn’t recognized as in ally. Both were the same, a natural result of our own inability.
But no way was I such an upright person, or some kind of defeatist so as to submissively accept that result.
No way in hell. I don’t know about others, but if it’s me, no way I wouldn’t rage, wouldn’t loathe, wouldn’t curse—
“Futaba-san, let’s team up”
I gave it to her straight, no roundabout, tempting narration, not a hint of trying to lead her into wanting it like some scam. I wasn’t in the mood for hogwash opening remarks, no, I basically just felt like saying it.
“...Eh?”
Blinking her round overflowing eyes, Futaba-san stares at me. Normally, I’d be lacking the handsome-points to meet a girl’s eyes, but with the influx of malevolent emotions right now, I could look straight back at those circular irides.
“Futaba-san, I don’t think you want to die yet?”
“Uh, yea...”
“And of course you aren’t thinking it’s so miserable being betrayed and want to commit suicide?”
“No... but... you’re right...”
It’s tough pill to swallow, but seems Futaba-san is sensible enough to accept that harsh reality. Could even be that she’s only buttering up to me, pretending to listen to my boring explanation-cum-lipservice.
Well, I don’t care either way. No one wants to group themselves with a Shaman, is an absolute truth I can say with unbending confidence. I’ve spoken not a single falsehood.
“So, weaklings as we are, we should try to work with that presupposition. I’m not too crazy about letting myself die. Futaba-san, didn’t you say you felt the same?”
“Yeah, that’s right... definitely not, I thought, I was really gonna die that time... so, so scary...”
I don’t like thinking one person can truly understand another, but this one’s the exception.
The time I encountered the Armor Bear, the moment I beat it. The span I peeked at the Goma eating the girl. Death, was at the epicenter of all of those incidents; and every time, it formed in me a tremendous ripple of fear and repulsion. I never want to do that again. I never want that to be me. No matter what, no amount of pain or suffering would make me pass the uncrossable line of desiring death.
“Yeah, so to not die, we’ll do anything. So we can survive, we should use any means we can. So please, Futaba-san. Join me, and let’s challenge this dungeon together.”
“R-really... you’re really ok with me?”
“I wouldn’t take anyone but Futaba-san”
“I, can’t do a thing, I really am useless... you know?”
“Others are just overpowered. Every one of them started off so strong it’s unfair... but us, we’ll keep at it, and definitely become stronger”
“But, but I...”
“I won’t betray you. Futaba-san, I’d never abandon you. I’m not asking you to believe me right now. Trust, is something you build together after all”
Was that a bit too pretentious? Certainly, I don’t believe I made any blatant lies. I truly believe that I, and only I, won’t abandon the good-for-nothing Futaba-san. Casting her away because she’s useless wouldn’t make me any different from them.
Nevertheless, that the possibility of me leaving her to run away by myself is one I can’t let go of, is again, true. No, depending on the situation, it’s pretty much a yes.
That’s why, in truth, there’s no conviction or meaning behind my words. People like Souma-kun or Tendou-kun could surely make these gutsy words their reality... but for a normal person like me they were baseless.
“U, uu... Momokawa-kun! Thankyou, thankyouuu!”
Yet, even that worthless gab had enough of an impact on Futaba-san to make her shout words of gratitude.
Too easy, or rather, hooked her right at the weak spot, I should say. Her face, layered in tears yet alit, sharply pricked at my heart.
“I’ll work hard! For Momokawa-kun, I’ll give it my everything!”
“A-appreciate it... So then, regards(yoroshiku) Futaba-san”
“My vewy bess regaads too!”[2]
Whatever way it may be, I succeeded in my plan of dragging Futaba-san into my party.
________________________
[1]I’d like to make a slightly belated note on ‘!?’. The point: this is simply exclamation(!), not in any way a question(?). To my knowledge, in old delinquent manga, they used the ‘!?’ to show surprise, astonishment, like, just slap it up there, —!? Anyway, I’ve been trying to be consistent with the author’s use of punctuation, and that’s what he uses. Again. It’s not a question.
[2]not typo, sobby words.