Chapter 145: A Hero’s Story, Part 1

With the awakening of self came the memory of the order carved into the double helix.

From now on, it would become a friend to “humans.”

It was placed inside a mass-produced body, one with no sharp edges to speak of, and rolled around.

For some reason, that was a little fun.

It met its friend.

The first impression was not very good.

He introduced himself as a mercenary.

Then it, too, would surely end up on the battlefield.

The man with clouded eyes spoke in a voice terribly hard to make out.

—Nice to meet you.

***

When the individual assigned to carry luggage was named Ox Unit, I understood that Friend intended to use the zodiac for our names.

In that case, I thought I might as well stand at the very top of my siblings.

Rat.

Mouse.

Mouse-like behavior.

I considered it for a little while, and remembered a fairy tale.

The little mouse rode on the ox’s back and arrived first.

If I were to imitate that cleverness—the way it used wisdom to make up for weakness—then information should be my weapon.

Just as planned, I received the name Rat Unit, and quietly smirked.

I claimed to my siblings that I was the eldest brother.

The others did not seem especially interested, and accepted it easily.

Was it because Friend had a policy of watching individuality?

I had the feeling my siblings varied rather greatly from one another.

***

Friend was strong.

Was it because of his eyes? His instincts? His mind?

Friend was a first-rate sniper.

Not because he never missed.

He did miss.

But when he did, he paid it no mind, and corrected with the next shot. He was the kind of sniper whose accuracy rose under heavy pressure.

In this era, when one worked as a mercenary, being strong was good.

I thought that honestly.

***

That thought was a mistake.

Friend was too strong.

Too strong, and therefore far too weak.

Too strong as a sniper.

Too weak as a human being.

A hero.

We knew, as knowledge, that among humans—who as individuals were weaker than Insectum, weaker than Bubbles, weaker than Tooths—such individuals were sometimes born.

Friend was surely one of them.

That was what we thought.

Sharpen something enough, and somewhere else will be missing.

Friend was a hero, and so Friend, too, was missing something.

A fatal defect that neither the humans around him nor Friend himself had noticed.

We noticed it when Friend gained his first comrade-in-arms.

Shinzo.

A Sleeper, like Friend, and a man who fought for children who were also Sleepers, like himself.

After meeting him, Friend gained a purpose.

He began turning his eyes toward the Sleeper children he had never even looked at before.

No.

He did not gain a purpose.

He was given one.

He must have judged Shinzo’s actions to be something beautiful.

Friend, greatly lacking, began to function as the children’s hero because he was wanted that way.

A hero does not need a self.

A hero should be nothing more than a function.

Like gears meshing, Friend began to function as a hero. He was relied upon, parasitized, drained of his lifeblood—and accepted it.

Therefore.

Therefore, we siblings decided.

If Friend would function for the children, then we would function for Friend.

—What else could I do? I’m older than them.

Because even after being shown the cruelty of the world, the conclusion Friend spat out was beautiful.

Because even if the beginning had been a motive given to him, the one who reached that beautiful conclusion was Friend himself.

We want Friend to live as a person.

But Friend said he would become a hero.

He said he would fight for the children.

Even if that was not the answer we wished for, it was still worthy of respect.

The story of Friend, too flawed to become fully human and too flawed to become fully a hero.

A heroic tale full of defects.

We are its attendants.

And its witnesses.

***

Friend functioned.

Used by the Tooths, and even so, saving a child exposed to the unreasonable.

But when Friend saw the inequality there, for the first time, he performed an act that was not heroic.

He ranked children.

And, if only for a time, abandoned one side.

Good.

Very good.

To move by emotion is to be human.

***

Friend functioned.

Still carrying the same defects as ever, acting like a person among people.

Friend entered into something with E.B. that looked like a real lovers’ relationship.

Once, that would have been unthinkable.

And seeing it, we grew sad.

The reason was simple.

Friend had begun acting like her lover because her parent had given permission. Not because he loved her. Because he had been allowed to.

It was not the function of a person.

It was the function of a hero.

To place a princess beside the hero.

To leave his blood to the next generation.

Friend functioned.

That was not it. That was not it at all.

To love a person. To love someone. That is not what it means.

E.B. noticed.

Women are sharp creatures.

Holding Rudo in her arms, she had once murmured to herself:

—I still love Touji anyway.

And that saved us.

***

Friend creaked.

Friend’s function as a hero creaked.

The part of Friend that was human began to function.

Friend left E.B. to the future.

That was not a function for the children. Not for humanity. Not for a hero.

If the goal was victory, he should have kept E.B. at his side. And yet Friend left her in the future.

Because he loved her.

More than we thought.

More than E.B. thought—just a little. Just a little, he loved her.

Good. Good. Good.

O precious thing.

Love should be unreasonable.

Emotion should be uncontrollable.

A human being should be so.

***

Friend functioned.

Like a clock hand marking time, Friend saved humanity.

For the future.

For tomorrow.

He would die today.

That was our Friend.

Friend as a hero.

And for the future where she would exist. For the tomorrow where she would exist.

He would die today.

That was our Friend.

Friend as a person.

We wanted Friend to live.

We wanted there to be a Friend who smiled in the future, in tomorrow.

But alas.

As a hero, and as a person, Friend would protect humanity even if it meant dying for that future, for that tomorrow.

How noble.

And how sad.

Even so, that was our Friend.

Our pride.

Then we would keep our Friend alive.

If Friend would throw away the future, throw away tomorrow, for humanity and for the one he loved—then we, for Friend, for our one and only Friend, would throw away the future. Throw away tomorrow.

Ah.

With that vow in their hearts, my siblings scattered across the battlefield.

First Snake Unit.

Then Tiger Unit, Boar Unit.

To let Friend escape the enemy assault, Dragon Unit self-destructed.

Rooster Unit and Monkey Unit drew the enemy away, opening the line for a shot that could turn the battle.

Horse Unit, unable to fire a gun, opened a hole in the enemy army with its own body.

Sheep Unit and Ox Unit used their bodies as traps and made time.

Seeing his siblings fall one after another, Friend nearly collapsed.

And still, he stood.

—Thank you.

What came from Friend’s mouth was not an apology.

It was gratitude.

For the siblings who had fallen on the battlefield, and for me, those words alone were enough to keep fighting.

Just as Friend leaned on us as friends, we leaned on Friend as our friend.

Even so, the battlefield scraped away Friend’s human parts and raised his function as a hero. But there was no need to worry anymore.

Highball had said:

—Leave a highball at my grave.

Halloween had said:

—Hold a Halloween party every year at the orphanage that took care of me.

Goodman had said:

—Take care of the flowerbed for me.

Smile had said:

—Look after my hamster.

The words of the heroic dead, scattered across the battlefield, gave Friend reasons to aim for the future.

For tomorrow.

They were like curses.

Like weights.

Even so.

Even so, Friend used them to aim for tomorrow.

So, thank you.

Comrades.

Thank you.

Thank you for becoming Friend’s comrades-in-arms.

Thank you for leaving Friend a tomorrow.

***

Dog Unit scattered for the future we sought.

The operation’s deadline had passed. All that remained was to run. Even so, the insects would not forgive humanity’s hero.

The pursuit never slackened.

A grasshopper-man leapt through the night.

Friend’s left eye was already gone. His left arm was gone past the elbow. In his left side, the needle of a biological round he had failed to avoid was buried deep.

Even so, he could win.

If he could see, he could shoot.

If he could see, he could win.

That was our Friend.

Only I, Rabbit Unit, and Rudo remained.

Then.

Ah.

Then surely, next was my turn.

Denial: You are our leader. You are the one who should remain.

To Rabbit Unit’s words, I returned no.

Friend is a sniper.

For Friend, who is a sniper, to continue fighting from here on, he needs eyes and ears. Therefore, you are the one suited to remain.

Friend.

Our Friend.

Please, I leave him to you.

Order: I assign you the mission of recovering our siblings’ cores. Someday, somewhere, let us meet again.

Acknowledged: Mission accepted.

Leaving everything after this to the most cowardly of my siblings was not reassuring.  So I looked at our youngest brother.

Words did not pass between us.

He could not read letters, so our words did not reach him.

That was why I looked into his eyes and said, please.

His right eye had been crushed, and his left ear was missing a piece. Even so, our youngest brother pressed his wet nose against me, as if to reassure me.

One last time.

One last time, I looked at Friend.

“—, —”

He was soothing his ragged breathing, performing a one-handed snipe with only his right arm.

The barrel swayed unsteadily, wavering from side to side, and yet, terrifyingly, it followed the presence of the grasshopper-man with perfect accuracy.

I wanted him to look at me.

That was what I thought.

But Friend, deep in concentration, did not notice me.

It was lonely.

And for some reason, it made me proud.

Slowly, I rolled out toward the enemy.

“? —Wait, Rat Unit, get back!”

Friend’s voice.

I did not turn.

I opened my mouth.

What came out was not a gun. My combat ability is not high.

For that, I am sorry.

I fired a phosphorescent round into the air.

A blade of light cut through the darkness, lifting the grasshopper-man out of the night.

In that instant, its head was blown away.

But there was still one more. Its killing intent turned toward me.

With one arm, Friend would take time to chamber the next round.

So this was fine.

I would make time for Friend.

—Friend.

Ah, Friend.

If I may wish.

If I may wish, then in the future, once more—

My mechanical body ceased functioning.

The moment only my core remained, my self began to thin and fade. The last thing I saw was the grasshopper-man shattering apart.

Ah.

What a pity.

If it had been granted to me, then at the very end, one more time, I wanted to see Friend’s face—