The Shaman can't become a Hero
Act 2: Pig
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?”
“N-never!?”[1]
That’s good, she still has the energy to instantly deny suicide. If she was chronically depressed or something, I’d have another boat-load of trouble doing, cheerup and counselling.
If she has the will to live, I’d more than welcome her aboard. Well, not like I have the luxury to pick and choose my allies.
“Then, team up with me. This dungeon’s quite too much for me to capture solo”
“A-uh, but... I... can’t, do anything... So scared, I can’t fight... I’ll definitely be a pain for you, Momokawa-kun!”
“That’s fine, I can’t fight either. I’d even bet, my vocation is the weakest in the whole class”
It’s really quite pathetic, but here I shall boldly proclaim. For I doth be the true weakest.
“... Momokawa-kun’s, vocation?”
“It’s Shaman. Forget offensives, I don’t have any defence or evasion either. Top it off, not a thing for getaways either“
Yeah, you’re damn right Higuchi, a Shaman can literally do fuck all, a real shit vocation, for now. I beat the Armor Bear, but that was basically me using up a lifetime’s worth of luck.
“But, Momokawa-kun, you saved me!”
“The herbs were just that good. If you know the recipe, anyone can make it”
There’s no such thing as being extra effective when hand-made by a Shaman. If it was a game, maybe you couldn’t make concoctions without that vocation, or alternatively, you could have corrections that, with it, the effects would be many degrees higher but... Sorry, none of that here.
My Shaman powers basically amount to ‘Intuition Pharmacy’. If the knowledge of effects and recipes got out, they’d stop being only mine.
On the other hand, a ‘Healer’ would use their skill itself for recovery effects, a power uniquely available through them. Worst case scenario, they’d get me to cough up all I knew about herbs, and just off me.
Ah, then I guess, it’s actually better I not tell anyone the types of herbs, and how to make meds from them. Even it I’m teaming up with Futaba-san. The confidentiality of herb knowledge, is pretty much one of the only factors of my worth.
Wow, I’m pretty much trash for thinking these things literally in the middle of inviting her. Well, self-reproach aside. Right now, I need to concentrate fully on capturing Futaba-san.
“I really am the weakest, and in this dungeon, the most useless out of anyone. ’Cause of that, I almost got killed once”
“Really!? So you mean... Momokawa-kun, you also... umm...“
Receiving Futaba-san’s gentle, considerate, and wholesomely sympathetic gaze, I silently nod.
I mean, me wanting to join Higuchi’s merry bunch, is a 11 out of 10, fuck no. You can bow down and beg me to join your party all you want. I’ll bash y’with a Red Shroom, motherfucker.
“I don’t think there’s anyone who’ll be needing me anytime soon. What about you, Futaba-san, if we catch up to class rep’s bunch, you think they’ll want to take you back?”
“T-that’s... I don’t...”
Well duh. How barefaced do you have to be to just act like nothing happened and run back to the party that fired you. Matter of fact, if you did, they’d make you leave by force this time. That slightly crazy Satou Aya might even come at you with ‘Aim’.
But the point here is not only with the class rep party, but in making Futaba-san imagine the scenario at every encounter with other classmates too. She should’ve noticed. If that class rep, if even Kisaragi Ryouko abandoned her, no one in their right mind would take in her incompetent self.
Well, someone like Souma-kun might’ve made a more appropriate reply; hey, if you’d been left to die, and your heart was practically on the verge of shattering, anyone would take you in, or something, not really, I wouldn’t know.
“The chances of us getting protected by people with strong vocations are next to nil. The class rep might’ve refuted it, but I’d bet there’s more people who take that info about the 3-person limit with more than a grain of salt. Even if they aren’t fully convinced, they’d be acting under that premise being true. So, they won’t have any room for useless dependees”
“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 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.