Dragoon Novel My Hero

ncode.syosetu/n1392cj/

By Morino Ion

I have a childhood friend.

That friend beca the hero and saved the world.

We were born in a small village. We were the only ones born that year, our houses were next to each other, our mothers and fathers were close friends, and we were both boys, so we beca friends as if it were only natural.

It would be easy to summarize with the words ‘we were always together’. Babysat together, ate together, took our baths together and were put to sleep together.

And we played together, caught colds together, fell over together, cried together, and laughed together.

That was what was natural, I didn’t have any particular complaints. We would often fight, but we got along well enough. We were close friends, after all.

But as we aged, I ca to find out. Unlike , who didn’t have any particularly special traits, that guy was amazing. His face was pretty, and since he grew up tall, it wasn’t just the village girls, he was even popular with the girls in the town over. When it ca to books, he just had to read through them once to morize them, he was quick on his feet, and he was good at hunting as well. No shit he’d be popular.

It was a bit irritating, but he’s a good guy, and I’m who I am. I liked him enough to get to thinking of it that way, and we stayed friends the whole ti.

We did stupid things, made the adults angry, were put to cleaning the toilets together, complained it was a pain and went off to play, only to make them angry again. When we were kicked out to sleep in the shed, we made a ruckus all the way through the night, received the iron fist to the head, and grew older together.

In the far, far capital, I heard the evil spirits were doing bad things all over the place, but our village was out in the sticks, brimming with nature (in fact, that’s all we had), so we still had the blessings of the fae and it was completely soone else’s business.

Anyways, with this and that, we were fifteen, out shopping in town as per usual, and we were surprised. In that town that had so many people our knees gave way the first ti we stopped by, there was such a crowd gathered, it made

liken the town’s normal state to our own village.

Of all things, it seems so VIP from the capital had co to search out the hero. The one who could pull the legendary sword from its scabbard was the hero, and for those with so confidence in their ttle, regardless of status, age or gender, they said they wanted them to challenge the sword without question.

and my childhood friend went to have a bit of a go, if you beco the hero, I’ll pick you those nuts from the reaaally hard to reach place in the forest, or so we had so stupid pokes at one another as we got in line.

My turn ca around, and naturally unable to draw that needlessly heavy sword, I felt just a bit relieved I didn’t speak out about my slight hopes before my hand reached the hilt. Not a snowball’s chance in ‘ell, I gave a grand laugh as I handed off the sword to my friend.

And the sword I had suspected to be welded shut, with the scabbard still in my grasp, I saw the sword alone slide out and settle itself in my childhood friend’s hands.

Those cheers and jeers that had been so noisy died out, and while everyone’s eyes gazed at my friend with looks of shock, my childhood friend was more surprised than any of them. In his pretty eyes, for so reason, it wasn’t the sword that he had just pulled out, but the stupid face I was making that was reflected. Even now I can rember it well.

After that, up and down, left and right, front and back, it was huge news.

With the hero’s appearance, the world was all topsy-turvy in thunderous applause. It was the sort of great ruckus where the king and prince, and even the princess ca out.

They wanted him to defeat the lord of the spirits, they wanted him to go on a journey for that sake. My childhood friend tacked on a condition before he accepted.

He wanted

to accompany him on that journey. That was all.

Since he was at it, he coulda just asked for enough money to play around the rest of his life, but that’s all he asked for.

To add onto that, his parents also asked for it. To add onto that addition, my parents kicked

out and said I definitely had to follow him. To add on even further, everyone in the village, and the king who had made a dubious face at first, and the vassals, and the magicians, and the swordsn, at this point, everyone in eye’s reach asked for it.

There was only one reason.

My childhood friend was the greatest failure in human history when it ca to a sense of directions.

When you think he’s walking behind you, he disappears, when he’s walking in front of you, he’s gone when you blink, when he’s walking beside you, he’s not there the mont you laugh and reach to pat his shoulder. What sort of horror is this?

Even in the village we were born and raised, he can’t return ho alone. The mont you take your eyes off of him, he disappears into the forest, disappears into the bog, disappears into the mountains, and even disappears into the village chief’s house. If he goes to the bathroom, he doesn’t return. If he goes to take a bath, he’s gone. To add onto that, he can’t make it to either of those places alone.

Even when he’s so popular, that’s the reason he can never keep a girl long. First off, he can’t make it to the eting place. Even if he does, he disappears. He vanishes even if you’re holding hands, so what am I supposed to do? I’d end up dropping him off at date spots, and they’d treat

as a hindrance and spread strange rumors all over. It brings tears to a man’s eyes.

Finding my childhood friend was always my job. We were like brothers, so I can’t deny this feeling that the role was just shoved onto , but I also wanted to play with him, so yeah, I searched as hard as I could.

His lack of directional sense only grew worse by the year, and as I searched for my childhood friend who wouldn’t return for three days if played poorly, I grew so confidence in my needlessly trained walking abilities.

Along the way, I ended up being the only one who could find him. My childhood friend was quick on his feet, and even if you just saw his back round the corner, he was no longer on the other side. In such a situation, the only one who could overtake him was .

The robust knights, and the greatest magician in the country soon gave up on apprehending my childhood friend, so it ended up that I was to tag along on this spirit king extermination journey. It’s a right bother.

With this and that, we went on a journey to exterminate so source of trouble.

Before we left, the village got together to hold a banquet. With teary eyes, the village chief told my childhood friend, “You’re the pride of this village,” and, Do your best for the sake of the world.“ He also told , “Well, yeah, do sothing,” and, “Try not to die.” Hey, village chief, sit down there for a second.

From the very beginning, our journey went through stormy seas. When the magician, the twin swordsn, the prince, and the prince’s attendant were the only ones who were supposed to co along, the princess slipped her way onto the boat. With her long hair trimd short, the princess who appeared from a barrel was quite the crazy woman, but I was chasing my childhood friend and ended up jumping into the sea after him, so I didn’t have the ti to care.

As we excelled at racing around the mountains and forests, we had learned to use the hunting bow, the knife that would always prove useful, and the wood chopping hatchet, so our traveling companions decided to teach us the sword. We even learned from the princess. The princess was a sword master whose level the average knight could never hope to reach.

I got beaten up a lot.

A few days after we crossed the sea, I saw my first monster.

The stench let off from its peeling, decaying flesh, the bodily fluids dripping from it withered the flowers, the way it corrupted the soil was nothing but repulsive. I had to wonder whether sothing so repulsive could truly exist in this world, and the fact it was a living being was too much for . I threw up.

Everything I learned was blown away, and when I had fallen, shaking on my ass, that guy stepped out front and waved the legendary sword.

He erased the monster with one swipe, our comrades sang praise of my childhood friend, as expected of a hero, they said. I spread sand over the spot I had vomited, swallowing my spit a number of tis to cover up the sour taste in my mouth. And I tried to laugh. You really are sothing, as expected of the high and mighty hero, I’m proud of you, I wanted to say it all, but as if sothing was caught in my chest, I couldn’t say a thing.

I was no good at all; I shoulda just given a stupid laugh like I always did, but at that ti, I couldn’t laugh no matter what I did. In that instant I looked down, not wanting anyone to see my face, the voices praising my childhood friend grew confused.

Right, he wasn’t there.

The hell!?

The twin swordsn had their arms around his shoulders on both sides, laughing along with him, and yet he had gotten lost in the blink of an eye.

The search took three hours, and the mont I found him, while it was a little late, I realized it. Ah, this is no good. If I wasted ti thinking I wasn’t needed, or that he could do it all, or that I was nothing to him, he would beco lost.

By the way, after I found the lost boy, when I was leading him back to our comrades, my childhood friend beca lost one more ti. All despite the fact I was holding his hand so he couldn’t escape, and making sure not to take my eyes off of him. I’m going to stop blinking...

And childhood friend of mine, give back my seriousness.

In battle and even the journey itself, let alone useless I was even a hindrance. If you asked why I was here, I would answer lost child duty without hesitation. You could also say I had no ti to think over the aning of my existence or pride or any rubbish like that. I an, when I used to search for him in familiar lands, now we were in a place where neither I nor he had any sense for the area.

When we’re walking he disappears, when we’re running, he disappears, when we’re laughing, he disappears, when we’re talking he disappears, when we’re eating, he disappears. Even when he’s sleeping in his PJs, he disappears.

And I would search for him. Walk and search, run and search, get angry and search, laugh and search, eat while I search, and rub my sleepy eyes as I search.

When I found him, I’d get in a fist and return him to our comrades. Again and again.

Within those days, as expected, I could only run away in battle and I was always apologizing to our comrades. When I did, our comrades made blank faces and tilted their heads, so I could only look blankly as well.

Our comrades told

they wouldn’t even be able to travel without

and laughed. My friend also laughed. I got in a good punch on him.

Along our journey, there was a ti when I was abducted by a spirit.

If I wasn’t there, there was no one who would be able to bring him back, I got the feeling it said sothing like that. His lack of directional sense had even made its way to the spirits’ ears, I hung my head on that knowledge.

The spirits knew everything from his directional sense to the local specialty products of our holand, but there are still so things they don’t know, I thought as, from behind the spirit beating

black and blue, I saw my childhood friend leap out making a face that turned even the spirit pale.

My childhood friend often disappears and often gets lost, he gets lost even if you bind his hands or carry him, but strangely, whenever I’m in a pinch, he always cos to save . When I was surrounded by thugs, from nowhere in particular (a sewage pipe, for so reason. He stank) he appeared and drove off the thugs with his stench, and when I t with an avalanche, from out of nowhere (for so reason, inside the avalanche itself) he appeared and got stranded with . But in the cave we found on the verge of death, we were only saved by each other’s heat. Even when I was attacked by a bear, or I fell from a cliff, my childhood friend would save

without fail. He would never abandon , and he never once made a reluctant face when it ca to saving .

He would always make a fashionable entrance reaching out a hand and telling

to go.

Before he beca the world’s hero, my childhood friend was my hero.

Well, when I gave a bashful laugh and tried to grab his hand, he would be lost, though!

At least give

a second!

Burned by the spirit’s fla, while the fire left in my body continued eating into

leading

along the boundary between life and death, I saw nothing but dreams of the past.

The magician’s desperate healing techniques showed results, and with my life fastened in place, the first thing I saw when my consciousness returned was my childhood friend gripping my hand in both hands, breaking down in tears. Apparently, he thought I was going to die. Yeah, I thought so too.

I was surprised to see the magician sobbing as well. When she kept declaring to

that useless n weren’t her type, she cried and cried saying she was glad I survived. Then she hit . The fact she wouldn’t stay sweet to the end was, well, kinda cute.

It’s just that all the fingers of my right hand my childhood friend held tight were now broken. You bastard.

After many a twist and a turn, the troubles we faced upon reaching the spirit king’s palace were difficult to describe in words.

Passing through the gate, the hero got lost, at the fork, the hero got lost, when we turned to the wall, the hero got lost, before the four heavenly kings, the hero got lost. I managed to capture him when he was loitering around after he had taken the king’s head.

And thus the world was saved.

By the way, the troubadours changed that part into a wonderfully cool heroic tale. When I was lowering my head, apologizing for all the trouble we had caused them, the hero got lost. I found him and smacked him.

One way or another, we beca heroes, and my childhood friend married the princess. I proposed to the magician.

I remained at the palace, receiving a position as his aid, and reminiscing longingly over the days where all we had to do was fight, I was chased around by work as I searched for a lost hero. Laughed at as the hero’s tag along, I searched for the hero. Feeling the itchy stares of the children who saw

as a hero myself with glimring eyes, I searched for my dear friend. Chasing after my newly born child, I searched for my childhood friend.

My childhood friend had a child as well, but luckily, while he took after him quite a bit, the kid had no trace of his father’s lack of directions, and everyone pat their chest in relief. The one more relieved than anyone was my childhood friend; he was so relieved the power left his body, and he leaned his entire body weight onto . I complained he was heavy as I tried to pat him on the back only to find he wasn’t there.

The bastard.

With this and that, we were having fun another day.

My childhood friend was lost again, and our comrades, the queen, and his n, and his son, they were all searching for him.

Even though I was already an old man, nothing had changed. I shouted Uoooooh! As I ran like the devil, spending my days searching for the hero.

I have a childhood friend.

My childhood friend beca the hero, and saved the world while serving as my hero as well.

And today once more, my hero was in good health and lost.

I have a childhood friend.

From the mont I attained sentience, I could see it. I could see them. And I could hear them. The voices calling for

flooded

from all around. The hands beckoning for

sprouted from all I could see.

‘You will beco our king.’

‘You should never have been born a human.’

‘You were never supposed to be a lifeform of that world.’

The voices, the hands, they would sway in front of , beckoning

on.

By the ti I noticed it, I was always alone. When up to a mont ago, I was supposed to be eating sweet snacks by a warm fireplace, by the ti I noticed it, I was wandering the marshes barefoot. But my feet wouldn’t stop. Led on by whims of hundreds, thousands of hands, I continued walking with a hazy head.

I thought I had to return, but as if a bell was ringing out in my head, those reverberating voices buried up my thoughts. I have to return, the more I thought I had to go back, the more the voices would call.

‘That’s right, return.’

‘Return to the world where we live.’

‘Return to the place you’re supposed to be.’

‘It is only at that mont, that you will beco you.’

Those voices, those hands, they covered up the sky. They shut off the wind. They made the ground below

disappear.

And I fell. I fell, I fell, I kept falling so more.

“Found you!”

The voices, the hands disperse.

I return to the world.

My childhood friend slid down into the marsh and hit

on the head.

“You idiot! We’re going ho!”

He gripped my hand and led

away. My childhood friend born on the sa day, at the sa ti, because he had co to find

in the bog, his shoes had beco completely soaked. He never got angry over that, though he was eternally angry that I interrupted his snack ti.

Whenever I was alone, my childhood friend would find

without fail. Even when I didn’t know where I was, he would definitely find .

On a bad day, I would disappear again and again, but there was never a ti where he didn’t look for . Even if we fought, even when I said sothing terrible, my childhood friend would search and bring

back.

Once, I asked why he would search for , and my childhood friend said, “Hah?” picking at his ear in low spirits.

“It’d be boring as hell without you.”

I see. So my childhood friend will be bored without .

Then I really must go back. These obscure sothings were always following

around, and they were growing thicker year by year, but no matter what happened, I had to go back. That was the first ti I held such a strong desire.

When my childhood friend tried jokingly to pull the hero’s sword, I ended up drawing it and beca the hero.

I wasn’t scared of the monsters or spirits, but once we left those familiar lands and entered the domain of the spirits, those vague sothings only grew worse. There were tis the hands covered up the world to such a degree I couldn’t see what was in front of .

But for so reason, those hands never obstructed my childhood friend.

I could always see his form. I could always hear his voice.

That’s why I could return.

There was one ti my friend was abducted by a spirit.

My childhood friend was going to die.

The mont I thought that, I could no longer hear a single sound in the world. Return, return, the resounding voices and the white, blank hands covering my world were all I could perceive.

At this rate I thought I wouldn’t be able to go back, but I wasn’t scared. At most, I thought of it as a bother. Afraid... the only ti I was ever truly afraid was when I gripped the hand of my childhood friend, half his body burnt by a spirit’s fla, as I prayed for him to wake.

For so reason, I thought there would be no return if I ever let go of that hand. I didn’t know whether it was

or my friend who wasn’t coming back, but if nothing, I knew that I couldn’t let go, so I hung on for dear life itself.

In so part of , I thought it couldn’t be helped if I went away. But my friend disappearing from the world... that alone was sothing I couldn’t bear.

I was told we had arrived at the spirit king’s castle, but I could no longer see a thing. Countless dozens of white hands sprouted, surging all around

like a wave.

By the ti I noticed it, the king was before my eyes.

The spirit king spoke.

It told

I really wasn’t a human of this world. That the current spirit king was my replacent. I was supposed to be the spirit king, but various coincidence and happenstance overlapped, causing

to dwell in the stomach of my mother in the mountains.

I see, so from even before I was born, I wasn’t human. It felt strangely natural. The white hands clinging onto , leading , were residents of the world I was supposed to belong to, and in truth, I was supposed to destroy the world I was in now.

The spirit said it had co to destroy this world that wouldn’t give

back.

‘Return with .’

The spirit said, giving a gentle smile and reaching out its hand. The white hands covering my entire field of vision shook with delight, and all the voices wailed out in madness.

The mont the spirit king’s hand and smile overlapped with that of my dear friend’s, I had lopped off its head.

By my slaying of their king, the hands and voices grew just a little reserved.

I had clearly indicated my will, or perhaps it was because the link that connected this world with that, the spirit king had been severed.

I properly fell in love and married the smiling girl whose face flushed red all the way to the nape of her neck fully exposed by her shortened hair. In the sa year as my childhood friend, I had a kid.

While those unfamiliar days were botherso at tis, there was never a single thing I ever thought to throw away.

The hands and voices still called out to . If I let my guard down for just a mont, I would find myself alone.

But I had already made my choice.

No matter how much they led , no matter how much they covered the world, I would live as a human of this world, and I would die as one.

By the ti I noticed it, I was standing atop a cliff on my own, but the voice that resounded was one of my friend calling for , and the hand connected to it was a fist coming my way.

And so the sun sets on another day.

Lately, the voices and hands have grown fiercely in number.

I listen to the creaking of my chair as I quietly close my eyes.

Half a year ago, my childhood friend’s cold worsened and he left the world so easily. Watched over by his doting children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, on a bed that’s sheets were changed every day and gave off a nice sll, he left with a peaceful look on his face.

My wife left the year before last. My great granddaughter was married last month.

I think I’ve done plenty.

The pure white hands covering my field of vision beckon

as they sway. The voices tell

there’s no longer any need for

to hesitate, echoing on and on in my head. I can’t see a single thing in this world anymore. I can’t hear a thing.

I can tell the hands are waiting to take

by the hand and take back my soul.

But I wasn’t too worried.

Even if I died now, and they beckoned to my soul, I get the feeling the hand reaching out for

won’t belong to them.

‘You idiot! Look, everyone’s waiting for you!’

My childhood friend who never stopped looking for

will shout as he lowers his fist on my head. I’m sure he’ll lead a ‘directional failure’ like

off to the sa place everyone else has gone.

I have a childhood friend.

My childhood friend kept

in the world and saved . He is my hero.