Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 56

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 56

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Commissioned by Shaderic

Wordcount: 2500

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Hikigaya Hachiman is a teenager stolen from his home. A person who’s fought for years on the front, against monsters, while his kidnappers made sure he couldn’t run away. An untouchable mess of a person, he’s skin, bones, and scars, because the best food should go to those to the front. Whatever the length of his hair is, it should be a matted mess of grease. Whatever clothes he’s wearing should be tattered scraps, held together by poor needlework, that barely keeps him warm. Everywhere he goes, he should be thinking of only how to survive the next fight, how to keep casualties low, and how to turn 

But that wasn’t the person looking back at me in the mirror.

The man in front of me has a few scars on his face, but he’s healthy and clean. He doesn’t have a beard, sunken eyes, or a matted mess of hair. Not only that, but the guy actually has meat on his bones, even if he should be eating more, and maybe lift a weight or two. He definitely doesn’t look like a man who has ever gone hungry, especially since he’s wearing a tailored, silk suit meant to intimidate the hell out anyone looking at him. 

However, most importantly, he can’t be Hikigaya Hachiman because he’s not thinking about the next fight. 

He’s not waiting for a patrol to go missing, or report a bad of enemies are coming. There’s not a single thought in his mind about rations being spread properly amongst his troops. And, finally, he’s not wondering whether he has to go into battle with all the reserves and wounded, so that his head won’t get blown off. 

He’s thinking about the fact that he’s about to get married.

A total piece of shit normie— 

Oh, right, he’s me. 

I’m really not kidding when I say that it’s easy to forget that I’m looking at myself. What the hell happened to the homeless junkie that I would’ve definitely avoided back in Japan? 

Let’s logically deduce Hikigaya Hachiman’s return to humanity.

First, I suppose, was the fact that I started eating more to keep up with what I needed to do in Ylstu. Hunger is a distraction, but so is having to eat too much. Usually, I had my fill of eggs and meat, and spent the rest of my day working. As the old saying goes “a quiet stomach is enough,” and went on with my day. I did my best to avoid getting sick from not having enough, but I definitely didn’t eat twice a day every day, let alone thrice. 

Maybe, perhaps, there’s even magic in the food raised by Kindred? Something, something made with love and all that crap? 

I don’t know, but I’ll look into it later for the sake of profit.

No point in love, if I can’t take advantage of it, y’know?

The clothes are more easily explained. I couldn’t’ exactly keep walking around in simple clothes all the time. Being a leader meant dressing differently, and making sure that everyone knows you’re the leader. Looking the part of an authoritarian asshole who doesn’t take no for an answer might have come with unexpected side effects, such as becoming a fetish, but it’s worked out so far and given me clothes that aren’t made by Kindred. Clothes, mind you, that can easily be taken off by Kindred. 

However, while I don’t have any questions about my wardrobe, I did have a lot to ask myself about the third, last thing that was confusing the hell out of me. 

Who the hell do you think you are?

What right do you have to not be a miserable piece of shit with all the people you let die?

Do you think that you’re some sort of hero? 

That you deserve even the slightest bit of relaxation, let alone happiness, when all you have is built off the fact you had people die instead of you?

You don’t even know how many people you’ve sent to the front, let alone the names of every single person you told to buy time, so that the lines can regroup. Doing this would be fine, if you were just looking to use the opportunity to hurt the Empire, but that’s not the case is it? Once Roseanne told you her plans, once she made it clear that she’ll attack the Empire with all the strength of the Kindred that she could muster, you’ve been content to let someone else take the reins… when you should still be doing more to end the Empire. 

Sure, you’re preparing supply lines, and making a place that can retrieve and send troops out to the front… but is that enough?

Is that all you’re willing to give for all the people you let die, because you weren’t better at your fucking job?

I think of everything that I can. 

Every hateful, miserable reason that can possibly come to mind enters my thoughts, as I grip the sides of the mirror, and search my face for a reaction. 

I want to know that I haven’t forgotten. 

That I’m not living for myself, and forgetting all of my mistakes, while they lie dead in Ylstu. 

Is what you’re doing, Hikigaya Hachiman, worth all the sacrifices you’ve forced other people to fucking make? 

My heart pounded within my chest, and I recalled the taste of blood, as I stared into myself.

However, no matter how hard I tried, how long I looked, and no matter what I said to myself, the regret that I wanted to see wouldn’t come.

“Looks like I’m a bigger piece of shit than I thought.” I spoke to an empty room, as my heartbeat slowed, and looked back at the healthy, able, and lucky piece of shit that looked back at me in the mirror. “I really am fine with someone else just fucking the Empire over with my help, and walking all over the bodies I’ve left behind, huh?”

However, I suppose, even if there’s no “real” drive for it, I can make up for anything that’s missing with everything else I have left. Even if I’m not the hero that could fix everything, end the Empire, and lead everything to the best possible ending by giving all of himself, I can still try to take some responsibility over all the lives I’ve spent in order to live. 

Leading from the front, diving deep into enemy territory, and ripping through the Empire might be impossible, but I can hurt them through my allies, what I know, and what I can make. 

I might be a terrible person to give up your life for, let alone multiple lives for, but I’ll try to lessen the difference. 

I’m not a hero, especially since I’m so willing to stay safe and let others do the dirty work for me, but I can most certainly terrorize the hell out of the Empire, and make sure that it gets properly, diligently, and mercilessly wiped out. 

…

You’d think after a night of brooding, philosophical questions about self-worth, and a maybe-a-little-shounen, motivational speech at the very end, I’d find the next even in my life to be my marriage. It’ll be one heck of a transition from one scene to the other, either in a manga or in an anime, where I go from looking at the mirror… then BAM, I’m looking straight down the aisle at Kurama as she’s guided to me, the priestess, and one-hundred percent accurate crotch tattoo her ancestor’s statue. 

Instead I’m lying alone in a room where I’m supposed to be with my family. 

Courtesans who are about to be married to Kindred here in Kurama valley get to spend time with their brothers, their uncles, and their father. Since the Kindred keep close record males, they know who’s who, and they manage to give the groom time tat they otherwise don’t have. The older generations, who are usually too busy, get to pass on knowledge to the new husband and give him advice. The younger generation gets told what to do, so that they can get out of a life of being a sex toy that has a few apps downloaded into it. 

It’s a kindness that any man who’s lived amongst Kindred would appreciate. 

Except. For. Me.

Because all my family is in another world.

Goddamn, there’s not even any Kunoichi here to temp—distract me.

Just me, in my suit, alone waiting to be called upon because no I don’t have a family anymore.

And, of course, the moment I think that someone knocks on my door, because someone’s figured out what’s gone wrong with the situation. 

That doesn’t mean I’ll complain about being put into a room all by myself though. If there’s anything I’ve learned with dealing with Noble Kindred, it’s the fact that you’re supposed to use everything you possibly can against them. 

“Yeah, come in.” 

I got up to get escorted out of the Mistake Room only to surprised.

“Does it… look strange, Hachiman?” Ur stood in the doorway wearing a suit and tie obviously fashioned after mine, but tailored for her. Even though she grew a bit, once I addressed the Amazonian malnutrition problem, she didn’t grow as much as the younger Amazons. Wearing a suit, I supposed she could be considered a tomboy, given how they hid her bodyline. “I don’t think I’m wearing it properly.”

I didn’t realize that I stood up, until I was fixing her tie, so it wasn’t chocking her and actually looking good.

“Now you’re wearing it properly.” I tried to find a pithy comment or two, but it was obvious that Ur was sent in, wearing what she wore, because Kurama wanted me to have company. Company that I trusted, who trusted me, and who I knew would protect me, while I protected them in turn. I suppose, in a way, that’s as close to a stranger a family could get. “You look good, Ur.”

My words caused Ur to flush, and before I knew it, I was fixing her hair. The Kindred’s attempt to make her black hair tidy was fine, but it obviously pulled on her scalp, so I rectified that… just like all the times I did for Komachi.

By the time I finished, Ur’s little blush was gone, and she looked up to whatever face I was making with worried eyes.

Jeez.

If you look at me like that, I might cry, y’know?

“You had a younger sibling, Hachiman.” It was a statement. Ur might not be the brightest of the Amazons, but she’s plenty smart enough to recognize how an older sibling would care for their younger sibling. I suppose, she didn’t think much about tying a tie, but giving her a ribbon for her loose, low ponytail told her everything she needed to know. So, I didn’t bother hiding it. “You didn’t tell us.”

“I tried to forget.” Was Ur like a little sister to me? No. She’s saved my life, killed monsters, and done far too much on my orders for me to think of her as Komachi. However, being sent into this room, being told what it’s for, and seeing Ur walk in to obviously spend time with me… it brought up memories. Strong ones that I had to take a seat for, while Ur sat down cross-legged on the floor. “There’s a chair, y’know? Space right next to me, too.”

“I want to be right here.” Man, isn’t that cruel? Now I can even look down to hide my face. Since when did you take up sadism, Ur? Don’t you know that warriors should get their heads checked, if they start enjoying hurting people? “Tell me about her, Hachiman. Tell me about your family… who should be with you now.”

“I can’t remember their faces.” My mother, father, and my little sister. I can’t recall my parents first names, and I hung on for dear life onto Komachi’s name. However, even as I tried to think, holding my hands together, with my elbows on my knees, and with my eyes closed… I couldn’t bring even her face to forefront of my mind. When I opened my eyes, I only found Ur’s concerned, amber gaze… and snapped my head away before the vague shape that I had became anything different. “I don’t know what to say besides that.”

Ur bulldozed through my statement without an ounce of hesitation.

“Tell me about the days you spent together. The places you went. The lives you led with one another.” Despite not even being able to remember their face, Ur’s words managed to pull memories of my family out. Komachi always came home, despite being popular enough to run for Student Council President. Mom and Dad were both corporate slaves, but they sent us both to cram schools, bought us what we wanted within reason, and asked us if we had problems. Mom nearly always took my side, while Dad wouldn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus for Komachi. I’d do the same, so I couldn’t fault him. “See, Hachiman, you do remember them. They’re with you, just as my own family is with me.”

“I’ll never see them again.” Coming here is a one-way trip, and it cost the Empire a lot to get me. And, I’d rather die than research a way for anything here to go back to my home. The Kindred might be half-decent, but magic? I couldn’t see my world handling that well in any way. No. Bringing them here isn’t an option, and neither is going back. I’d destroy both forms of magic forever, if it were up to me. “How do you deal with that, Ur?”

For the first time since she entered the room, Ur hesitated… but she overcame it like she always did, while I could barely keep looking at her instead of hanging my head and looking at the floor and only the floor. 

“By reminding myself that they’re in a better place, one where they need only hunt, and work together to live.” 

Ah, I see.

Ur thought that saying that would make me angry, or more miserable, but in fact it’s the opposite. 

Reminding me that Komachi, my mother, my father, and everyone else is safe, living normal lives, and moving on… let me breathe easier.

It didn’t bring a smile to my face, or anything stupid like that, but it did that.

And, that was enough for me.