To my utter horror, I suddenly found myself in a situation that defied comprehension. Anyone capable of rational thought would likely have sympathized with my current predicament (and lack of motivation). I’m sure they would join me in saying the following:
“What the hell?”
Next to me, Haruhi wore a smile totally inappropriate for the occasion. An almost malevolent glee—the sort of grin she wore when she brushed common sense aside and went full-tilt bonkers. The moment this grin appeared on her lips, we were doomed to follow her into uncharted waters, no matter what fate that led us to. I could only pray this runaway freight train wouldn’t land us in the student discipline office, or a year toiling in cram schools hoping to pass college entrance exams on our second try.
But this did not seem like the right time to pray.
“You say something?”
“I didn’t say anything and don’t plan to for the foreseeable.”
No further comment.
“Fine, then zip it. Leave this to me—you’re a sidekick here. You were never good at negotiations.”
I’d prefer she not decide what I could do or where my life would take me, but I settled for keeping my mouth shut. I’ll admit I had no clue what to say and would very much rather avoid putting my foot in my mouth and making the situation worse. Anyone who suddenly found themself in this predicament would probably think the same.
Mostly because I’ve somehow wound up in what seemed to be a palace, standing before a portly old man sitting on what appeared to be a throne. That would make him the king, presumably.
“Haruhi the Hero!” he intoned, looking very much like the King of Diamonds. “Born to save our world, sole living descendent of the ancient hero of yore! Pray, heed my plea! The dire demon lord seeks to seize control of this beautiful world through fear and calamity! You must defeat him!”
“Look, Grandpa,” Haruhi said, unfazed by the fact that the elderly minster standing by the throne had clearly called him Your Majesty just moments ago.
I gathered this was some sort of medieval monarchy, but did they not execute people for lèse-majesté here? By this point, the guards really should have stepped in and escorted Haruhi off to the dungeon.
Please—put her in solitary. Don’t leave me in the same cell.
I doubted Nagato, Asahina, or Koizumi wanted to join her, either. We might all be standing here next to her, but imprisonment by association was hardly fair.
“You want me to save the world? Sure, I could do that. I’m exactly the person you want to be asking. You’ve got a good eye. Me and my people can handle any situation in the blink of an eye. And we’ve got the results to prove it.”
She was spewing the kind of BS that made you want to immediately delete her last paragraph.
To my left, Haruhi straightened up and then extended her arm, pointing a finger at the man on the throne.
“But good work doesn’t come for free! You want us to take down this demon lord wannabe, but what’s in it for us? I get the impression that no matter who’s controlling these lands, the only real difference will be who we pay taxes to.”
She was certainly mouthing off. I tore my eyes away from her gleeful grin and nonchalantly inspected her garb.
The king had called her a hero. Ordinarily, if someone did that, I’d try to hide my look of pity while frantically calling for an ambulance or just quickly walk in the opposite direction, but neither was an option at the moment. For the simple reason that the outfit Haruhi wore did inarguably make her look like a hero.
Use your imaginations, please. It doesn’t matter which medieval fantasy RPG comes to mind first, really—just conjure up the clothes that hero wears. Whatever you’re picturing is basically what Haruhi has on.
“Ah, Haruhi the Hero!” the king said, seemingly inclined to play along with someone he really should have thrown out on the double. “When you defeat the vile demon lord and restore peace to this world, they will sing songs about your deeds in every land! Will that honor and glory not suffice?”
“Hell no, it won’t ‘suffice.’”
She waggled a finger before her nose.
“No matter how you slice it, you can’t eat glory! If you pin a medal to my chest, best I can do is auction it off somewhere.”
“In that case, Haruhi the Hero, I shall welcome you to the palace! Marry my daughter, the princess—”
“Why would I want a princess?”
“—Correction, marry the prince, and you will gain authority and influence. Sadly, my children, prince and princess alike, have been captured by this dastardly villain! They’re currently imprisoned in the demon lord’s castle, so you will have to rescue them first.”
“What the hell would I do with your kids?!” She was starting to sound pissed. “You think I’d be delighted by a marriage to some total stranger? Let me be very clear, you’re way outta line! How outta line? It’s like you took your answer sheet and filled every row one bubble off and then turned it in like that. And not in a mock exam either, no, this was the real deal!”
When this furious diatribe died down, Haruhi leaned over and whispered in my ear.
“Kyon, what say we rise up and start a revolution? I feel like this dude would abdicate the throne in a second if we pointed a sword at him. I could make you the new king.”
You’re on your own for that one. I have no interest in rebellion, revolutions, or ruling. All I want is a quiet life in an unremarkable town. Pretty sure everyone but Haruhi is thinking something along those lines.
On that note, I looked past Haruhi. Standing next to her was the magnificent visage of Asahina, looking taken aback. I could put up with agonizing pain for a full week as long as I had her face to comfort me.
“Um,” she said, catching my gaze. Her confusion gave way to a smile, and she bashfully gestured to herself—not an invitation for a hug. More…
“Does this look good on me?”
Of course it did. If anything failed to look good on Asahina, then the clothes were to blame. And those rags might as well be consigned to the fireplace of a mountain shack on a chilly night.
“You’re the spitting image of a mage, no doubt about it.”
Lately I’d been feeling like compliments were best when they’re succinct, so I let that one line do the heavy lifting. Judging from her smile, it worked.
“You look good, too, Kyon.”
Well, well. I managed something like a smile but was deeply unsure I should actually feel good about that. I wasn’t especially into cosplaying and took no pleasure from how well my outfit matched me. While I attempted to muster the appropriate attitude, the King of Diamonds seemed to grow tired of arguing with Haruhi.
“Kyon the Warrior!”
Now he was talking to me.
“What do you say? Save the world, take my daughter as your bride, and I could name you next in line for the throne!”
—Warrior. Apparently, that was my role. I was wearing armor and had a longsword at my side, so I’d figured as much. At least I was dressed like one. My expertise with a sword was limited to some time with a wooden kendo sword in junior high gym class. Would that be of any use?
“She’s quite beautiful, if I do say so myself!” The king was now being a doting dad. “She was dazzling as the grand prize winner in last year’s World’s Hundred Most Beautiful Women guide. Had the demon lord not spirited her away, no doubt she would have defended the title!”
“Uh-huh,” I said. A noncommittal response. Perhaps it would be worth seeing just how hot this princess was. But all I could say at this point was that I was completely sure this unseen princess would not be cuter than Asahina, more proactive than Haruhi, or more extraordinarily resourceful than Nagato. It would take a lot of doing to get my heart racing.
More importantly, if I nodded here, I’d just end up defeated by the hero before we even got to the demon lord. I saw that future waft by like a soap bubble and then burst a few centimeters from my face.
“This king doesn’t know when to quit,” Haruhi grumbled. Then she declared, “This is hardly enough to cover our travel expenses. Quit trying to skimp on the reward and open up your coffers. Like 99,999 gold!”
It would be one thing if they’d invented paper money, but if that was going to be all coins, I imagined it would be extremely heavy. Who would be forced to haul all that treasure around? It seemed silly to argue. Might as well take the king’s crown and hock it somewhere.
Haruhi fired off a bunch of questions about currency exchange rates and the gold standard system, then demanded an army of ten thousand cavalry and fifty thousand infantry to guard us, and none of this accomplished anything besides drawing confounded looks from the minster and king.
This would probably take a while. So to pass the time I’d better give you a brief rundown on what the others were wearing.
Nagato was a thief, and Koizumi a lute-carrying bard. The end. Nothing else to explain. They looked the part.
Nagato’s unmoving gaze was fixed on the stone wall directly in front of her, and Koizumi was simply observing Haruhi with that phony, easygoing smile. I was relieved I didn’t have to wear what he had on. It looked irritatingly good on him, though.
We were a party of five—a lineup of the usual suspects. But at the moment, Haruhi wasn’t the “chief” but the “hero.” I was a warrior, Asahina a mage, Nagato a thief, and Koizumi was a bard. All of us were badly miscast, like our character profiles had been swapped with some other story at the planning stage.
It didn’t seem like I could do anything to stop it.
Haruhi was still busy with her stupid King of Diamonds Q&A, but at least we knew what was going on here. An ultimate evil—the demon lord—had popped up out of nowhere. He was evil incarnate—at least to the ruling class—and a kidnapper to boot, so they wanted us to go on a grand ol’ adventure culminating in the demon lord’s defeat. Standard RPG fare. And not a very inspired one.
“Hokay,” I muttered, hefting the sword on my hip. No clue when the fighting would start, but I’d rather not have the opportunity to use this. I’m not into bloody grimdark stuff.