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Chapter 139

Chapter: 139

From somewhere, an incessant alarm sound echoed in my head.

Then, a thud interrupted it.

Usually, the noise that would quiet down after a good smack to the head continued to linger faintly, even though it felt like getting hit hard enough to rattle my brain.

So, until that sound faded away, I kept banging my head against the wall.

Bang, bang, bang.

I slammed my head against the wall.

After a while of trying to shake off my daze by ramming my head against the wall, something suddenly surged up inside me.

“…What’s wrong with me? I’m just a kid with no particular strengths except for enduring things…”

But if I cried now, I felt it would be irreversible.

So, I forced myself to swallow it down while muttering to myself.

Just hold it in; it’s the only option, anyway.

After a little while longer banging my head against the wall, I ended up slumping down on the toilet.

Sitting on the toilet, a faint chuckle escaped me.

I was trying my best to think positively to stop my mind from spiraling down a negative path, but all I could come up with was relief that the noise of banging my head wouldn’t be heard by the other kids because of class.

“…This is tough.”

The thought slipped out before I knew it.

Whenever something hard came up, I’d usually manage to get through it by thinking positively.

I considered myself pretty good at that, holding on for this long, and I thought I could keep doing it, but what happened today was just too much to brush off.

It wasn’t just my body anymore; I realized the witch was influencing my mind too.

Including the time I sleep, I felt that if I let my guard down for even a moment, I wouldn’t know what might happen.

The anxiety gnawed at my positive thoughts.

Then suddenly, I felt a sharp pain on my forehead.

As I pulled away from the wall, blood trickled down from my forehead.

…It seems I must have split it open when I was banging my head against the wall.

Sighing, I wiped the blood off the wall with a tissue and stepped out of the stall to look at myself in the mirror above the sink.

Reflected in the mirror was a girl with a tearful expression, her face stained red with blood from her forehead.

After turning on the water to wash away the blood, it looked like I hadn’t bled that much at all.

That girl in the mirror was a monster.

And I unknowingly feared that I might become an even greater monster someday.

The girl looked genuinely distressed, her face filled with struggle.

But I couldn’t walk around with a face like that, so I tried to think as positively as I could.

Then, the girl in the mirror smirked.

No matter how desperately I tried to think positively, all I could come up with was relief that my hair was red, which thankfully didn’t make the blood noticeable.

Even if blood was on my head, that was the one thing I liked about this body.

*

When I opened the door to the nurse’s office, I found the health teacher dozing off in a chair.

I felt a twinge of envy at how peacefully she slept, unaware of someone entering, but I quickly shook it off and called out to the sleeping teacher.

“Uh, Teacher?”

“…Hmm, huh?! Oh, when did you come in? I didn’t even notice I was dozing off.”

“I just came in, so you don’t need to worry.”

She jolted awake in response to my call and wiped away the drool with her sleeve, looking a bit embarrassed. I shook my head at her.

I always thought that a health teacher could have such a sweet deal—napping in the office if there were no sick students.

As I was thinking this, I caught a glimpse of her expression changing from sleepy to serious.

“…Your expression doesn’t look good. Did you hurt yourself? I smell blood…”

At the worried look in her eyes and her question, I flinched.

I had just cleaned the blood in the restroom.

But this health teacher knew my wounds didn’t heal well.

If she realized something was off with my physical condition, there would surely be chaos.

In the worst-case scenario, something really bad could happen, so I tried to keep a calm facade and answered her.

“I’m not hurt. I just felt a bit unwell during class, so I thought I might rest for a bit.”

Upon hearing my reply, the teacher looked at me with a realization and then with a kind expression said,

“…If you’re feeling unwell, don’t overdo it and take a good rest. Even if you’re superhuman, some people struggle differently. Now, go lie down over there quickly. I’ll keep your belly warm.”

“…? Yes…”

I was a bit confused about why she wanted to warm my belly, but I followed her instructions and lay down on the bed, pulling the blanket up to my chest.

Once lying down, fatigue washed over me, but I couldn’t fall asleep; I kept my eyes wide open, holding on to my consciousness and muttering to myself.

Get a grip; it’s only been a day since I last slept.

There were times back when I was busy when I’d pull all-nighters for three days straight.

Not sleeping for a few days was nothing at all.

So, I can endure this. I can definitely hold on.

I recited that countless times, but waves of negative thoughts kept crashing in.

Even if I can hold on right now, how long can I do this?

How long can I maintain this life, always having to keep myself awake and alert without proper sleep?

A month? Three months? A year?

With those uncertain questions swirling in my mind, a sigh escaped my lips without me realizing it.

“…Do you have worries? Want to talk it out?”

As if she heard my sigh, the teacher turned her chair towards me and asked.

I couldn’t help but smile bitterly at that question.

As she said, I did have worries.

If it were up to me, I’d have plenty to ask others how to deal with.

But all those things were things I couldn’t share with anyone, things I had to hide.

I suppressed the urge to spill it all out and answered her.

“…I’m fine. They’re nothing special.”

“It’s okay even if they’re not anything special. Usually, just sharing worries relieves them to some extent. Or is it something too hard to talk about?”

“…A little bit.”

“That makes sense. It’s always tough to open up about what’s inside. But worries that stay bottled up can become poison. How about I share something about myself first, so it’s fair?”

Without waiting for my response, she suddenly began her story.

“You see, after school, I go around at night helping treat patients in hospitals. People who can use healing magic are always needed. Sure, I do fall asleep in class every so often because of it, but what can I do? So many people need my healing. Hehe, can you believe it? This teacher earned the title of elite hero just for her healing magic! Impressive, right?”

As I watched her boast with a shrug of her shoulders, I couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief.

But then I noticed her expression darkening, something was troubling her.

“…Just yesterday, I treated a patient who was brought in through the emergency room. They fell from the window of their apartment on the fifth floor but were saved because help came quickly. When I asked the patient how that happened, you won’t believe what they said.”

She spoke with a somber tone in her sad eyes.

“…They said they didn’t fall; they jumped. Turns out they lost their family during the time when people were being manipulated by the witch, and they received psychiatric treatment after that. The psychiatric evaluation said they were fine, but suddenly, they jumped.”

“…”

“When I asked them why they jumped, guess what they said?”

“…I don’t know.”

“Because dinner tasted too good that day.”

As I fell silent, the teacher took a moment to gather her breath before continuing.

“When they returned home after work and ate dinner, it tasted exceptional that day. They laughed without realizing it, but when they looked around, there was no family to enjoy the delicious meal with. They spent their life for their family, yet lost them and found happiness in a meal, even while the witch who killed their family was still alive somewhere. They felt so powerless that they could do nothing. So they thought it was funny that they were content with just a meal, and jumped.”

“…”

“When they finished their treatment and were about to leave, they asked me if I was a hero. I said yes, and they asked me to make a promise. They said they were just an ordinary person and couldn’t do anything, so they asked me to take revenge on the witch on their behalf. So, I promised I would. But then I realized, I couldn’t do anything either.”

She spoke slowly, looking down at her palm bitterly.

“Sure, they called me a hero, but I’m just a half-hearted hero. I can heal, but I can’t fight, so I can’t give them what they want. But it made me think again: at least I should do my very best in what I can.”

She looked at me with a firm gaze as she continued.

“I might not be able to fight directly. But I’ll do my best for you all, so that one day I can fulfill that person’s request. I’ll help you get back on your feet if you fall. If you have worries, I’ll think them over with you. That’s my role as a hero. So, if you have worries, don’t hold back; tell me. Even for the teacher’s sake.”

She said with a gentle smile aimed at me.

Seeing her determined to do her best in her role, I couldn’t help but nod.

But because of that, I felt even more unable to share my true worries with her.

Because I…

As I held back my bitterness, I quietly asked the teacher, who was watching me intently, if she could share her secrets about staying awake when she was tired.

“…Um, Teacher, what do you do when you’re sleepy but need to stay awake? Given your healing magic, I thought you might know how to deal with that.”

“Is that your worry? Well, the best way to get rid of tiredness is to get proper sleep, but when there’s no time, there is a special remedy that can keep you alert… but it’s a bit strong, so take it when you really need it.”

The teacher answered and pulled something wrapped in plastic from a container in her gown pocket.

It seemed potent, and I hesitated a bit, but I thought now was the time to use it. Without any hesitation, I unwrapped the item and popped the round morsel into my mouth.

“-@#!$!%!?!!!!”

I screamed as an overwhelming sour taste stormed through my mouth.

“Hey! You said you weren’t feeling well, and now you eat that—!”

As I writhed from the near-violent taste, the teacher gasped in surprise.

What the hell is this?! Is this a lethal poison meant to kill with its sourness?

I glared at the teacher, filled with betrayal, and shouted,

“Wha… what is this?!”

“Uh, I made a special lemon candy to wake you up…”

“This isn’t lemon… This isn’t lemon at all…”

While battling the taste that was shrieking through my taste buds, I soon found myself receiving an apology from the teacher standing in front of me, looking remorseful.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d eat it right away… I didn’t realize it would be that sour… I thought it was just strong enough to wake you up…”

“…I thought I was losing my tongue. I’m not good with sour things…”

For someone who couldn’t even handle lemons, this was way too much of a trial.

Honestly, normally, I wouldn’t even touch such a taste again, but…

“…But this is impressively effective. Can I take some with me?”

“Uh? Uh, sure! Take as much as you want. I have plenty.”

Honestly, as she said, it really did wake me up.

Sorry, tongue.

I silently apologized to my tongue, but it seemed completely despondent and didn’t respond.


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