Amidst the alarm sound echoing endlessly in my head, a thud interrupted my thoughts.
But this sound, usually quieted by banging my head, continued to resonate faintly even with the shock it caused, as if my mind was swaying.
So, until that sound subsided, I continued to thump my head against the wall.
K thunk, thunk, thunk.
As I knocked my head against the wall for a while, I suddenly felt a surge of emotion rising up.
“…Why am I like this? I’m just a guy without any special merits other than enduring….”
However, fearing that if I cried now, it would be impossible to turn back, I forcibly suppressed the feelings and kept muttering to myself.
Endure; there’s no other way, anyway.
After a while, still banging my head against the wall, I eventually settled onto the toilet, my head still pressed against it.
Sitting there, a muffled chuckle escaped me.
In order to prevent my thoughts from drifting into negativity, I tried my best to think positively like usual.
But what came to mind was merely gratitude that the sound of banging my head wouldn’t be heard by others due to class.
“…It’s tough.”
That thought slipped out of my mouth.
Even when things are hard, if I focus on positive thoughts, I could usually get through most of it.
I believed that I was reasonably good at this, and until now, I had managed to hold on, convinced I could keep enduring.
But what had happened today was undeniably not easy to dismiss.
Realizing that I was affected by the witch beyond just my body, I felt that if I let my guard down even for a moment, including during sleep, who knows what might happen?
That assumption had now become a harsh reality.
Could I really make it through? That uncertainty continuously suppressed my positive thoughts.
For a moment, while I clutched my trembling hands, a sharp pain suddenly surged through my forehead.
When I pulled my forehead away from the wall, blood trickled down, following the contours of the bathroom wall.
…It seems my forehead had indeed been cut while banging it against the wall.
With a sigh, I wiped the blood on the wall carefully with a tissue and stepped out of the stall, looking at the mirror above the sink.
The girl reflected in the mirror had a pitiful face, stained red with blood dripping from her forehead.
After turning on the water to wash away the blood, it was as though the blood I had oozed out had been a lie; her forehead appeared completely unblemished.
That girl reflected in the mirror seemed like a monster.
And I feared that someday, she might become an even greater monster.
The girl looked terrified, her face bearing a deep expression of struggle.
But I couldn’t walk around with such a face, so I strained to think positively.
At that, the girl in the mirror let out a hollow laugh.
Despite my desperate attempts to think positively, the only thought that came to mind was that it was a relief my hair was red.
At least it was a point I liked about this body; even if my forehead was smeared with blood, it wouldn’t show.
—
As I opened the door to the nurse’s office, I saw the school nurse drowsily dozing off in her chair like a statue.
Her blissful ignorance of my presence and peaceful slumber made me feel a sliver of envy, but I quickly shook off that thought and called out to the sleepy teacher.
“Um, Teacher?”
“…Sigh, huh? Oh, when did you come? I hadn’t noticed…”
“I just got here, so you don’t have to worry.”
Upon my call, she startled awake, wiping the drool from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve and speaking with an awkward expression.
I shook my head at her.
I couldn’t help but think that a school nurse might have more perks than I initially thought, especially when there are no sick students around to tend to.
While I was thinking this, I noticed the nurse’s expression had hardened from its previous drowsiness.
“…Your expression doesn’t look good. Did you get hurt? I smell blood…”
At the nurse’s concerned gaze and question, my body tensed.
I had just wiped off the blood from earlier in the bathroom.
The nurse knew that my body often didn’t heal well.
If she found out about my wounds, it would surely raise alarms and cause quite the commotion.
In the worst-case scenario, something very unpleasant could happen to me, so I tried to maintain my composure and answered her as calmly as I could.
“I’m not hurt. I just felt a bit unwell during class and wanted to rest for a bit.”
The nurse’s expression seemed to understand as she looked at me with a sympathetic gaze.
“Ah, if you’re feeling unwell, don’t strain yourself and rest well. Even though you’re extraordinary, there are still many who struggle personally. Come on, go lay down over there. I’ll keep you warm.”
“…? Yes…”
I didn’t really understand why she wanted me to keep warm, but I lay down as instructed, pulling the blanket up to my chest.
As I settled down, fatigue washed over me, but I couldn’t fall asleep. Instead, I kept my eyes wide open, forcing myself to stay alert.
Get a grip; it’s only been a day since I last slept.
During busier times in the past, I had stayed up for three nights straight.
Not being able to sleep for a few days was nothing.
So, I can endure this; I can endure plenty.
Despite muttering that to myself countless times, the flood of negatives thoughts persisted.
I might say I can hang on now, but for how long?
How long could I maintain this lifestyle of not having proper sleep while always keeping my mental focus?
A month? Three months? A year?
Questions without answers swirled in my head until I let out an unconscious sigh.
“…Got something on your mind? Want to talk about it?”
As if hearing my thoughts, the nurse turned her chair to face me and asked.
A bitter smile crept onto my face at that question.
As she said, of course, I had worries.
Deep down, I had so many things I wished to ask others for advice on that it could fill up a well.
But each one was something I couldn’t share, things I had to keep hidden.
Suppressing the urge to divulge my thoughts, I answered her.
“…It’s nothing much. Just trivial matters.”
“Even if it’s trivial, it’s still okay. After all, letting out worries can ease the burden somewhat. Or is it more challenging to say?”
“…A bit.”
“Understandable. It’s never easy to share what’s inside. But you know, worries left inside can be toxic. How about I share something about myself to be fair?”
The nurse asked that and started talking without waiting for my response.
“After school, I go around to hospitals at night to help treat patients. Anyone capable of using treatment magic is needed everywhere. Every time, I end up dozing off in school because of it. Hehe, despite this appearance, I’ve earned the qualifications of a hero thanks to my treatment magic. See, isn’t that impressive?”
As the school nurse proudly shrugged her shoulders, I looked on in slight disbelief.
But upon seeing her amused reaction, her laughter faded, and she continued softly.
“Yesterday, I treated a patient rushed into the emergency room. They had fallen from their window on the fifth floor, but luckily, we acted quickly and saved them. When I asked the patient how they fell, they said something unexpected.”
She said with a sullen gaze.
“…They said they didn’t fall; they jumped. After looking into it, I discovered that this person had lost their family when they were controlled by the witch and had received psychiatric treatment. The psychiatric assessments said they were fine, but suddenly, they jumped.”
“…”
“When I asked them why they jumped, do you know what they answered?”
“…I don’t know.”
“That day, the dinner was just too delicious, they said.”
When I fell silent, the nurse took a moment to catch her breath and continued.
“After work, they went home and had dinner, and that night, the food tasted so good. Just out of sheer happiness, they felt the urge to laugh. But when they looked around, there was no family to share that delicious meal with. They had lived their life for family alone, and yet they lost them. Happiness for a meal felt like a betrayal while the witch who killed their family was still out there, and nothing could be done about it. They felt so much resentment being unable to do anything and ended up jumping.”
“…”
“When the treatment was finished and they were about to leave, they asked me if I was a hero. When I agreed, they left me with a request. They said they were just an ordinary person who couldn’t do anything. They asked me to take revenge on the witch for them. And I promised to do just that. But then I realized, I felt powerless as well.”
The nurse spoke softly, glancing at her palms.
“Despite being called a hero, I’m still a half-hearted hero. I can heal, but I can’t fight, so I can’t grant what they wished for. Yet, it made me reflect again. At least I should do my best with what I can do.”
She looked at me with determination in her eyes and murmured.
“I may not be able to fight directly, but I’ll do my part so that you all can one day fulfill that person’s wish. I’ll help you rise again if you fall. If you have concerns, I’ll think over them with you. That’s my role as a hero. So, if you have worries, please don’t hesitate to tell me, for my sake as well.”
The nurse smiled gently at me, and I could only nod in agreement.
But precisely because of that, I couldn’t share my true worries with her.
After all, I too…
For a moment, I quelled my bitterness and quietly asked the nurse, who seemed eager for me to share my struggles.
“…Um, Teacher, how do you stay awake when you’re sleepy? I imagine you have many tiring days with treatment magic, so you may know a trick or two.”
“Is that your worry? Well, the best way to combat fatigue is certainly to get good sleep, but when there’s no time, there is a special remedy that wakes you up… though it’s quite potent, so take it when needed.”
The nurse answered while pulling out something wrapped in plastic from her gown pocket.
It seemed very potent, so I hesitated as she handed it to me.
She said to take it when needed, but I thought that necessity was right now, so I unwrapped the plastic and popped the round content into my mouth without hesitation.
“–@#!$!%!?!!!!”
I screamed from the explosion of an overwhelmingly sour taste flooding my mouth.
“Hey! You said you were feeling unwell, and you eat that now–!”
As I writhed at the near-lethal sourness, the nurse gasped, completely taken aback.
What the heck is this?! Is this some assassination-grade poison designed to kill people with sourness?
The thought struck me as I looked at her with betrayal in my eyes, shouting.
“Wha… what is this…”
“Th-that was my special lemon candy designed to wake you up…”
“This isn’t lemon… this isn’t lemon…”
As I battled against the sour taste that felt like it was about to annihilate my taste buds, I suddenly became aware that the nurse was apologizing in front of me, looking flustered.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to eat it so quickly… let alone how sour it would be… I thought it’d just be enough to help you wake up…”
“I…I thought I was going to lose my taste buds. I’m not good with it since I can’t even handle sour things…”
For someone like me who can’t even eat lemon, it was way too much of a trial.
In fact, usually, I wouldn’t touch it again, not in a million years…
“…But still, this is fantastic. Can I get some more?”
“Uh? Oh, sure. Take as many as you want. I have plenty.”
Honestly, she was right; it was waking me up in a way that was surprising.
Sorry, taste buds.
I internally apologized to my tongue, which by now had given up, providing no response.