SIDE: Carion (2)
“... No matter what you say, my answer won’t change.”
By the time I pulled the blanket up over myself and lay back down on the bed, I could no longer see what kind of expression the man who said those words had worn.
The door closed. The presence of others vanished from the room.
At that moment, an urge clawed up from deep inside my chest, like I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs.
… I couldn’t say it in the end.
About this right arm.
About the reality that I could no longer hold a sword.
There was still some justification for not telling my subordinates that my right arm was no longer usable.
We had barely escaped with our lives from the monsters and fled to this abandoned village. The men who followed me were all injured too, and not lightly.
In that situation, revealing my condition would obviously crush their morale.
But Valdo is different.
He is the Commander, the man who leads the Black Iron Claws.
There isn’t a single rational reason to keep it from him.
Even if we return to base, we’ll be traveling on horseback. There’s always the possibility of encountering monsters again along the way.
There is no reason, none at all, to hide it from him.
… Besides, Valdo is a soft-hearted man.
Even if I told him about this arm, he would never mock me.
Even if I had to leave the Black Iron Claws, a man like him would at least see that I received some form of compensation.
Even knowing all that, I couldn’t say it.
Instead, the only words that came out of my mouth were those befitting the composed Vice-Commander of the Black Iron Claws.
If I can’t hold a sword, then I no longer have the right to be Vice-Commander… nor even to be a mercenary.
And yet, what am I doing?
“...!”
I bit down on my lip so hard it nearly bled.
At that moment, a burning pain throbbed beneath the bandages, as if mocking me.
Below the wrist, my right hand had already lost most of its sensation.
And yet, only the damn pain stubbornly remained.
A searing pain.
It felt as though the frustration swirling inside me had taken form as pain.
A mercenary who cannot stand on the battlefield is nothing but dead weight.
What value does someone who cannot hold a sword even have?
I should understand that better than anyone—so why couldn’t I say it?
… I was afraid.
If I said it out loud, I would be forced to accept it.
“Damn it…”
As time passed, a crushing sense of loss welled up from deep within, like I wanted to scream.
But a man like me had no right to shed tears.
Under the name of “rationality,” I had cast aside enemies, and at times even allies.
So now…
It was simply my turn to be cast aside.
I knew I had to accept that reality.
And yet, my heart still struggled against it, pathetically.
Something inside my chest creaked and strained.
Pain and impatience tangled together, as if a fever burned at my core.
Even when I tried to think, my thoughts just circled the same place again and again.
Eventually, my eyelids began to grow heavy.
My vision dimmed, blurred, faded…
◆
“... Ugh…”
… It seemed I had fallen asleep at some point.
Probably the medicine. Or maybe just exhaustion.
Thanks to the rest, the pain had eased somewhat, and strength was beginning to return to my left hand.
But my right…
Was still useless.
At the thought, a faint self-mocking smile crept onto my face again.
Even now… was I still hoping for something?
I couldn’t stand how pathetic I was, unable to give up.
As I stared blankly at the ceiling…
I suddenly felt a faint weight on my chest.
When I looked down, there was… some kind of fluffy black furball sitting there.
For a moment, I didn’t even think it was alive.
But looking closer… the furball had the edge of the blanket clenched in its mouth, desperately trying to pull it up.
Whether it realized it or not, every time it strained, little sounds like “mew” and “mii” slipped out.
Forgetting my own situation, I just stared at it in a daze.
And as I watched, I finally understood.
It seemed to be trying to pull the slipped blanket back up over my shoulders.
But with such a small body, the blanket wouldn’t budge.
Even so, the furball braced its forepaws, clamped down on the fabric, and kept tugging, little by little.
At last, it managed to pull one side of the blanket up to my shoulder.
The fluffy thing gave its tail a small, satisfied swish.
Then it circled around to the other side and grabbed the blanket again.
Watching that, a breath slipped from my lips.
“You’re…Valdo’s, aren’t you…?”
As if reacting to my voice, the furball dropped the blanket from its mouth.
Round golden eyes stared straight at me.
Shining within that black fur, they were as clear as a full moon floating in the night sky.
But then, suddenly, it flattened its ears, tucked its tail between its legs, and began trembling.
“Meow, meow…!”
Its small body shrank in on itself.
It was clearly frightened.
But, if I recall correctly, this black furball was that monster-like creature Valdo had picked up.
Its name was… Al, I think.
But why was it here?
I thought it had left earlier in Valdo’s arms…
I let out a quiet breath and muttered to myself.
“… This blanket… you pulled it over me? No, there’s no way a monster would do something like that…”
“… Nyaa.”
An unexpectedly responsive little cry came back, and I blinked in surprise.
“...Was that supposed to be an answer?”
When I stared at it, the furball meowed again, then trotted along the edge of the bed toward my pillow.
It leaned in close, peering straight into my face with those large golden eyes.
Just moments ago it had been trembling—but now it looked full of curiosity.
It was so utterly lacking in caution, so defenseless, that I found myself simply watching it.
“... What are you trying to do?”
“Myaa.”
Then… it reached out a forepaw and gently pressed it against my forehead.
Before I could react, it placed its other paw there too, pressing both against me.
They were soft, squishy, and cool to the touch.
“… Don’t tell me… you’re trying to nurse me or something…?”
As if checking something, the furball kept pressing its soft paws against my forehead.
But then, abruptly, it pulled away and toddled over to the edge of the bed.
The next moment, it hopped lightly down to the floor and headed toward the door.
(What is it trying to do…?)
Then it stood on its hind legs and began scratching at the door… and let out a surprisingly loud cry.
Worried my subordinates might hear it, I glared at it and spoke in a low voice.
“... Quiet. Keep it down. I just sent everyone away, you’ll give me away.”
“Meow?”
“… I just dismissed my subordinates earlier. If they stayed there looking like that, hovering at my side, I wouldn’t be able to relax…”
Perhaps it understood, because the furball immediately stopped crying.
After a brief pause, it walked back toward me.
Then, with unexpectedly light movement, it hopped back onto the bed and came to sit neatly by my pillow.
… Unbelievable.
It really does seem to understand at least some of what I’m saying.
What do you think about this chapter?
