〈 54화 〉 Radio
*
”Huff!”
Like people tormented by nightmares usually do, she abruptly jolted up, as if chased by something.
Dreams while asleep fade over time, but dreams you want to achieve become clearer, or so they say.
In her case, it was the opposite.
The nightmare she wished to forget grew sharper with each passing day, while the dream she wanted to accomplish became blurrier instead.
She had always avoided the tranquil sleep that might bring those dreams to the surface.
”Huh…”
Covering her face with both hands was an unconscious act.
Even without looking in the mirror, it was obvious that her face was in a sorry state far removed from the ideal she had pursued.
She needed a bit of time to return to her usual perfect state.
”Hmm!”
Slap! She struck her cheeks hard with both hands to muster up her spirits.
Normally, this much would have sparked a fire in her mind already.
But judging by the lingering haze in her consciousness, it seemed there was still some trace of alcohol in her system.
Alcohol?
A trivial question flickered in her hazy mind. She tilted her head.
She had firmly vowed to become the hero everyone envied.
Of course, she was aware of her flaws that shouldn’t be recklessly displayed to others.
The fact that she was weak to alcohol.
Because just a few drinks were enough to completely erase her memories of the day.
So much so that she wouldn’t even bring any drink close to her lips.
It was truly a mysterious matter that she had drunk to the point of losing consciousness.
Could it be that all of this is part of some wicked scheme by someone aiming to weaken her!
Just as this reasonable suspicion surfaced in her mind…
Crackle Crackle.
An annoying noise pierced her ears.
A bizarre sound that was hardly of this world ensnared her consciousness haphazardly.
Eventually, she tried to track down the source of the sound with her eyes, but that was an unnecessary effort.
It was already right in front of her.
Like a picture in a theater that had just been flipped to the next paragraph by the speaker’s hand before it could be read.
There was no sign or omen; it was simply there from the start.
It revealed itself.
A small wooden box.
No, more precisely, it looked like something resembling a wooden box.
A rectangular wooden artifact with round metal ornaments, the size of buttons, stuck all over its front, and two peculiar metallic rods resembling insect antennae decorated the top.
It was impossible to guess its purpose just by its appearance.
It had a peculiar shape that didn’t match any object she had ever seen.
The only clear fact was that it was an artificial creation made by someone.
Crackle Crackle.
And before long, it began to speak to her.
[Hello, Hero. I am—]
Crash!
However, that statement went unfinished.
Her solid capital city smashed the suspicious object into pieces in an instant.
”Huh…”
A sigh filled with boredom.
Any ordinary person would have been unable to hide their panic at such a strange situation, but she, though startled, was not flustered.
That thing.
The mysterious object called ‘radio’.
It had been appearing in her dreams often lately.
She believed she was still half-asleep and seeing the remnants of a dream. In other words, she thought it was just an illusion.
”This is why alcohol is said to be the root of all evil… To think such an object that had only appeared in my dreams would manifest in reality… I punched it without thinking…”
Her exaggerated theatrical tone had now completely stuck to her mouth.
When she first began to speak like this, both her sister and she found it very awkward.
And she had gone through several embarrassing experiences due to it.
But now, even when she talked to herself, this tone came out so naturally—it was as if she had reached a state of being one with her role.
Whether to call this change a fruit of her efforts was uncertain.
”I need to hurry and prepare for breakfast…”
Just then.
”You’ve finally been able to talk in reality, and yet, throwing a punch first is a bit too much, don’t you think?”
The strange woman’s voice, tickling her nape, instantly awakened her drowsy consciousness.
Right then, a fierce sense of crisis engulfed her thoughts, giving her sword-swinging actions—a seemingly reckless defensive move—justification.
After intense training, it was safe to say that her existing senses had far surpassed those of an ordinary human.
Any stranger who could easily steal that awareness, casually talking to her, couldn’t possibly be an ordinary being.
”Bigtim! Dawna! Intruder—”
Just then, as she swung her sword to warn her comrades, it abruptly halted mid-air.
Because the unbelievable spectacle that unfolded before her made her brain freeze.
”I’ve missed you, my daughter.”
It was her mother.
The one who had given birth to her. The one who had protected and cradled her.
And the one who had abandoned her.
Since the figure that emerged resembled perfectly the one etched in her memories, someone she had once longed for incredibly,
It was understandable that her grip on the sword slackened for that fleeting moment.
No matter how great a hero one might be, at the moment of their birth, they are simply someone’s cherished child.
To soften both body and mind in front of the one who gave birth to you is akin to an intangible shackle imposed on every being born in this world.
However, exceptions exist for everything.
Crack!
Suddenly gritting her teeth, she swung her sword.
That arrow-like sword strike mercilessly pierced through the hand of the thing that took the form of her mother.
”Gyaaah!”
As it was impaled through the palm of its right hand, it was pinned to the wall in an instant, letting out a pained moan, and squirming as if suffering.
But from her, filled with rage, there wasn’t a trace of sympathy to be found.
”Illusion Magic! Or is it a Doppelganger? Unfortunately, it won’t work on me!”
”Haha! You’re much cooler than I expected! To think you could try to kill something that resembles your own mother! I’m growing fonder of you! Oh! Just to clarify, I don’t mean that in a romantic sense, so don’t worry!”
”If you have the leisure to chat, please clarify your identity and purpose. Unless you’re keen on having an extra breathing hole!”
Her grip on the hilt was certainly her own.
And yet, it was the one with the pierced hand that appeared to have the mental composure.
Caught in that unreasonable contradiction, she felt an unusual unease creeping up on her.
”Ah… Such a shame… All I wanted was for you to be my vessel… Yet you won’t even allow a moment’s conversation…”
”Vessel…?”
”That’s right! A vessel! Just recently, one of my friends wouldn’t stop bragging about finally finding a vessel that perfectly suited their taste! I was so envious of it! I’ve wanted such a vessel for half a century now! So…”
”Stop with the nonsense! Just reveal your true purpose and identity right now! Before my patience runs out!”
”Hmm… I just wanted to have a little chat with you… Why are you getting angry… I guess this appearance isn’t going to cut it, huh…”
Suddenly, it brought its left hand to its face, sweeping it away with a sinister smile.
As if it were a stagehand pulling back curtains that had been laid out briefly to tidy up before the show started.
That fluid, graceful movement thoroughly distracted her keen focus, which had been tense against the intruder’s presence.
”Don’t even think about doing anything foolish…”
Before long, her words became choked off.
No, more accurately, her breath, pulse, and heart—all evidence of her being alive—seemed to have come to a standstill.
If what she just experienced was a halting of thought, then the current silence could be described as an erasure of thought.
”It hurts… It hurts… Hero…”
”God… I…”
Like a malfunctioning camera lens, her blue pupils were repeatedly contracting and expanding.
Breath came in quickened gasps, like someone who just finished a marathon.
The hand gripping the hilt of the sword trembled as if it might slip away at any moment.
The horrific nightmare that had always tormented her vividly replayed in her mind’s eye every time it hit her retina—the regretful past she had tightly shut her eyes against.
The sight of a man’s face, bathed in sorrow and tears, while her right hand lay pierced.
A face she desperately wanted to behold, yet one she never wanted to see again.
The face of her beloved, writhing in agony.
”Hero! Intruder? What does that mean?”
”Sister!”
Just then.
Dawna and Bigtim, having heard her frantic call, rushed into her room.
But…
”Ah, you’re not needed.”
That thing, wearing the face of a priest, didn’t offer a literary jest but literally wore a grim smile that stretched from ear to ear, raising its index finger toward them.
From that ominous gesture, the hero instinctively sensed an unprecedented level of danger and quickly sprang into action.
”Dawna! Bigtim! Don’t come—!”
Fwoosh!
Immediately after, a black flash erupted from its finger, engulfing the area in an instant.
*
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