Zero disappeared as the story concluded, his role now complete. Not a word was uttered. It was so quiet you could hear Prota's breathing, followed by the soft sound of water dripping from the tap. The voices of the people outside felt muted, muffled, as if they weren't supposed to be there. John's face looked blank, but inwardly, his heart felt tight. It wasn't that he had nothing to say. It was that he didn't have the words to say them.
He wanted to be angry. And to some extent, he was. But at the same time, he wasn't.
Prota was sitting across from John, seemingly unaffected by her tale having been retold, but with a face like hers, it was impossible to tell. One look into her eyes said everything one needed to know, though. It still hurt. She was still afraid. She didn't look up for fear of revealing that fact, but with the state John was in, he wouldn't have noticed anyway.
"Damn," John cursed quietly.
His eyes would occasionally twitch, his body rising as if he were about to say something, but he would constantly slouch back down.
"Fuck."
Prota shrank back, thinking she'd done something wrong. She didn't know what to do. Why? Why was John so upset? Not knowing why, she reached out hesitantly. Slowly, trembling, she touched his hand. Just a single touch. Her hand shot back immediately, but that one point of contact was more than enough. All at once, his tense body relaxed, his eyes focusing once more as he took in a deep breath of air.
"Ah. I… damn," John said, shaking his head. "I- sorry."
"...?" Prota cocked her head to the side. "John… is angry?"
"No, I'm not mad at you, I'm-" John stopped as he saw Prota shaking her head. "What are you talking about?"
"John looked upset. John… John never gets upset."
John flinched as if he'd been accused of something terrible. But she was right. He'd gotten upset. Over what? A story? This was a [Character] in front of him, he had to remember. Since when did he get upset about something like this?
And since when did he show something like that so openly?
He got up and looked out the window, the sun setting on the horizon. People were walking by. None of them were looking into the bar, but he could see them going about their daily lives like ants swarming around an anthill. In a group like this, they were numbers. Statistics. Unmemorable, unnoticeable, and forgettable.
He continued to watch, but the streets didn't grow any less busy.
"I'll help you, Prota," John said suddenly. "I'll help you find your sister."
"...?"
"You said you wanted to stay, right? You want me to help you find your sister? Fine. Let's do it."
Prota stared for a bit, momentarily stunned. She'd asked for help but hadn't expected such a sudden response. She didn't even understand what John was saying, but after a moment, she realized that he was offering what she wanted.
Help.
She hadn't expected it to be this easy. Did she really deserve his help? She'd wanted it so badly before, but now that he'd accepted her request, just like that, she was starting to doubt herself. This man had already done so much for her. Why should he have to do more? For what reason was he pushing himself to this extent?
Was she truly deserving of his help?
"A- ah, ok…"
John walked over and sat back down.
"Haah… I didn't think I'd be getting involved with demons. I mean, in a world like this, I suppose it was inevitable…"
Prota cocked her head to the side.
"Ignore me. Don't worry about it. You want to rescue your sister, right?"
Prota nodded hesitantly.
"Fine. We'll do that."
Hold on. She couldn't just accept his aid. She had to say something, anything, just to make sure he understood what he was doing.
"Um-"
"But not now. It'll take a few years."
That caught her off guard. What?
"Did you- have you thought this through? Like, at all? Prota. You're… what, six? You're a child. Look, I get it. Main characters are these young kids that suddenly know how to act like adults and shit, but seriously. You're basically a baby, no offence. What're you gonna do?"
Prota stared at John. What was he rambling on about?
"I mean, you want this, right? So what do I know? But look at yourself. You're frail. You're weak. Do you even know how to use magic? We can't rely on that special ability of yours the whole journey. Prota, the Demon King is gonna be way stronger than that Aiden guy we just fought. Do you think you could win if you fought against that assassin?"
The question needed no answering. He beckoned for her to follow him upstairs, going straight toward his bookshelf to pull out a paper scroll. Blowing the dust off the top, he unfurled it to reveal an application letter written in fancy gold letters. The paper was crumpled as if nobody had bothered to take care of it, but the words were still legible.
"I got this as a reward for being part of the demon worshipper subjugation squad, among other things, but since I don't have a mana core, I thought it was useless. Guess you can't predict everything, right?" He looked up at Prota. "This is an application letter to Scholaris. Have you ever heard of it?"
Prota's eyes widened. There wasn't a single child who hadn't heard of it.
Scholaris, the school of the ancients and Mystics, was a school where only the top went to learn magic and battle. Anyone who was anyone went there. It was a school that brought out the best in you. Admission was based on talent, not skill. It wasn't a place that was just for show. It was a school that supposedly brought out your full potential.
"Honestly, I know nothing about Scholaris. It has to help though, right?"
Prota seemed overwhelmed with all of the info John was giving her. Why was he talking about all this? What was the point?
"Confused? Look, you need to understand. We can't just snap our fingers and make you strong. This isn't a story- scratch that. This isn't that kind of story. You need to be strong. You want to save your sister, right? How are you going to do that the way you are?"
"I…"
"You need to be strong. Not just strong enough to win one fight. You want to save your sister. So you need to be strong enough to protect her from anyone who tries to take her away from you."
"Protect…"
Protect. A foreign word to someone like Prota. She'd never even considered such a thing. It was all about survival for a year. The reason why was obvious. For an entire year, she hadn't been able to protect anyone. Not herself, not her parents, not the people she'd killed, not her sister…
Not even herself.
She hadn't realized it, but this was a source of shame for her. She'd failed to protect everything she held dear. Everything, gone. Lost. Destroyed. And now here she was, being given a second chance. She could find her sister. She could make up for her mistakes, atone for her sins, and as far as she could tell, the cost for this wouldn't be as sacrificial as one might think.
This wasn't a reward handed to her on a silver platter. This was a chance to make up for her mistakes. It was a chance to redeem herself for the sins she must've committed. The world hated her for a reason, right? Then it was time to make it up to everyone she'd wronged.
John looked at Prota. He couldn't really tell what she was thinking based on her facial expression, but something seemed to have changed.
"So you understand?"
Prota turned to John. "...John, too."
"...what?"
"I'll protect you, too," Prota said. "I'll become strong enough to protect everyone."
John looked at Prota. The statement was so childish to the point that he would've called it delusion, like a child promising that they'd fly to the moon. Still, he refrained from saying anything. Delusion, in a world like this? Prota protecting him wasn't the most ridiculous thing he'd heard. And maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to do it. And if that were the case…
"You'll protect me, huh?" He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "I'll hold you to that. From now on, you're my protector. Keep me safe, ok?"
Prota nodded twice. John didn't know it then, but this was the most enthusiasm she'd show for a long, long time.
"Alright. Let's get started."
~~~
That night, John was alone in the bar, sipping at some mystery drink. Prota was fast asleep upstairs, which was good, because he didn't want her hearing the conversation he was about to have.
"Zero. You know, for someone named Prota Char, she's not, uh… you know."
"[Protagonist] material?"
John grimaced. "Yeah. That."
"Have you considered that she isn't, you know, the [Protagonist]?"
The physical one sighed heavily, slumping over his bar and letting his empty cup fall to the floor with a clatter. The soul appeared and sat on the edge of a table, legs swinging back and forth.
"I did think about it. She hasn't really done much over the past month or so, you know. And if she was the [Protagonist], then why is she asking me for help? Shouldn't she be going off to do something on her own?"
"Maybe you interrupted the flow of the [Story]?"
John shook his head. "There's no way that's what happened, right? I just- she doesn't really seem like [Main Character] material. She doesn't do anything. She doesn't talk. She doesn't get angry or happy or anything. She just… she's just kinda there."
He slithered over the bar and fell to the floor in a heap, slowly untangling himself as he picked up the cup he'd dropped.
"Your story was sweet and all, don't get me wrong. I just… I expected something a little more, you know? Expected her to push a little more. To ask for more. She just kinda reacts. Never does anything on her own. How is she supposed to get anywhere?"
Zero scoffed, swinging off the table. "Then why're you doing so much to help her? Riddle me that, laughing boy."
John threw his cup, but it sailed right through his soul. Well, he hadn't been expecting it to do anything, anyway.
"I don't know. Come on, man. You can't tell me if she's the [Protagonist]?"
Zero shrugged.
"I can't say, dude. You'll figure it out. You always do."
~~~
Prota thought preparing meant training, practicing magic, but soon grew confused. There was none of that.
For about five months, they did nothing but rest and recover. It was a journey, not of combat, but of healing. It wasn't like she wasn't improving, though. John taught Prota how to read and how to do simple math, and to his surprise, she was quite the quick learner.
Health, of course, always came before work. John made sure she was eating well, sleeping well, moving well, occasionally doing an improvised physical to check on the state of her health. He watched as her hollowed cheeks began to fill in, her ribcage slowly fading, her stamina improving, and while it wasn't quite there yet, she was slowly going back to what could be considered healthy.
As she grew physically, it seemed she was also maturing emotionally. It seemed she was still afraid of physical contact, but at the same time, she was slowly growing used to it. She didn't mind John patting her head or fixing her hair once in a while. That was all she would allow, though.
While her facial expression never really changed, her self expression definitely began to improve. Her sentences usually consisted of less than ten words, but John was beginning to understand what she wanted with what little words she gave. More than that, her eyes were an oasis of emotion, and that conveyed more than her words ever needed to.
At the end of those five months, Prota was a new girl. No more was the girl who'd lived in poverty on the streets for a year; this Prota was healthy and clean, still a little skinny, still a little frail, but she'd improved immensely from the time she'd met John till now. She looked so different that it was safe for her to go out and move around.
That wasn't the end of it, though.
~~~
"Hey, guys," John said as the old demon worshipper subjugation squad was assembled in his bar. "This is Prota. She's, ah… my little sister. Yeah."
"You have a little sister?" Hestia laughed. "And you never introduced her? What, is she some kind of secret weapon like you?"
"Hestia, she's a kid. What do you think I am?"
"And why haven't you introduced her to us after all this time?"
"Don't worry about it," John said dismissively, glancing at Grey, who looked away. "Anyways. Ok. You guys are gonna call me crazy, but… look, I want to send her to Scholaris."
John's statement was met with an immediate flurry of noise, but Grey's opinion stood out the most.
"Their professors have wise advice. The Mystics are beings that are beyond our mortal lives."
Grey looked at John. "Are you trying to make her strong?"
"What do you think?"
Gorm nodded silently, watching the little girl carefully. She was hugging onto John's leg, nervous at being put in front of so many people at once, but she showed no signs of anything special. He smiled kindly at her, and she seemed to relax just a little.
"Then it's a good choice for her. But that doesn't explain anything. So you want to send her to Scholaris. So what? Why are we here?"
John cleared his throat and continued. "So, uh… I was wondering if you could, you know, train her. Just a little."
"What's a little, John?" Gorm frowned.
Their coreless friend was beating around the bush. That wasn't a good sign.
"...six months?"
The entire group stared at John as if he had gone mad.
"Look. She's not exactly very fit. She had a, um, rare disease for most of her life. So she was in bed a lot. Yeah. She recovered recently, but she's very weak, and to go to Scholaris in that state…"
"Hm… I understand where you're coming from. But what's in it for us?" Gale said, pushing his glasses up. "You're asking for a lot, Quarta."
John pulled his revolver out and slammed it on the bar counter. This was something he was ready for. If nothing else, he was a man who knew how to bargain.
"I'll explain how this thing works. I'll explain it so well even Hestia will understand, and I'll explain it in enough detail that Gale can analyze it, maybe even recreate it."
"That's a bold claim," Grey snickered. "But I'm game. That sounds like an interesting offer indeed."
"Bah, a weapon? That's it?" Hestia scoffed. "Come on. You're asking us for six months of work here. Weapons are for prissies. I don't need to know how this works. I've got enough firepower on my own. Come one, give us something worthwhile."
John stared at her. "Free drinks for as long as I run this bar."
Hestia leapt forward and slammed her hands on the counter, grinning madly. "You've got yourself a deal."
A new type of life was about to begin for Prota.
~~~
The training regiment was hellish, designed by high level adventurers who knew what it took to be the best. Well, it would've been hellish for anyone but Prota. Her body was frail, but every time she fell, she would just pick herself up and continue, unfazed. John was worried. He questioned whether or not she was pushing herself past her limits, but the truth was that her pain tolerance was proving to be a blessing.
The blessing wasn't without consequences, though. The injuries remained, even if they didn't really hurt. Somehow, though, the training overcame this. Her once frail body managed to push through, even with the injuries, and her growth overcame the burdens on her body.
"Why don't you try mana recovery?" Hestia had suggested one day.
"Mana recovery? What's that?"
"It involves circulating the mana inside your body," the fire mage explained. "When used, you recover stamina and injuries at an incredible rate, but it exhausts you of all your mana at once. It's a pretty standard mana technique. Think she could do it?"
"...Hestia, she's, like, six. Are you stupid?"
He wasn't trying to turn her into a battle maniac. If that was what she was meant to become, then he wouldn't stop it, but he also had no intention to force it.
Soon, a pattern emerged. Prota would train for a day with all four party members, pushing herself so hard that she would injure herself to the point where she could no longer continue. After that, she would rest for three days, and with the help of Gorm, her body recovered and came back even stronger. During the three days of rest, John would have her train her mana-absorbing abilities while he tended to the now-open bar.
Initially clumsy and weak, Prota slowly but surely strengthened her body. Her greatest strength was her agility, which Grey often praised. Hestia wasn't very good with children, so she'd often make strange requirements of Prota, but her strength training was coming along fine. Gale was in charge of Prota's speed and footwork, and while he'd initially had his doubts, Prota proved to be fine as her body continued to grow.
She also had a great affinity for meditation, considering all the days she'd spent doing nothing but waiting for the next day to arrive. In fact, her concentration levels were so excellent that Gorm had told John that there really wasn't anything for him to do. While her mental state itself wasn't the most stable, her resolve was, according to the dwarf, incredibly strong.
She was growing stronger, just like she wanted.
~~~
"Hm…" John sighed as he looked out the window. He looked back suddenly, turning to Prota. "Hey. Is there anything interesting you want to do?"
"...?"
"I mean, in the capital. It's been a year now. We'll be leaving to become adventurers soon, right? We're gonna be gone soon. Is there anything you want to try before that?"
"Nn…" She hesitated, wondering if this was also some kind of test. "No."
"Sure," John shrugged and returned to the window. "Life sure is boring, though… I thought it would become more interesting after meeting the [Protagonist], but nothing's happened."
"You're making assumptions, John," Zero warned inside his mind.
"So she's not the [Protagonist]?"
"I didn't say that."
"You're a piece of shit."
Prota ignored John's ramblings. Like any normal person, when they'd first met, she'd been a little concerned after hearing John talk to himself all the time. It was like there were voices in his head Only, there really was a voice in his head. She had once found it strange, but it had become a source of comfort in all its bizarrity after a while.
"Hey. Are you gonna do anything?" Zero continued, still speaking directly to John's mind.
"...like what? There's nothing to do here. Should I go rob a bank or something?"
"Why is that the first thing you think of? How did you even- What's wrong with you?" Zero sighed. "John. Prota's birthday is soon, remember?"
John, who'd been rocking back and forth in his chair, got distracted and leaned a little too far, causing him to crash to the floor. He scrambled to his feet, waving away Prota's look of concern.
"I- huh? Really?"
"It's been a year, John. Do you not remember? Prota met you one year after her birthday. The day of your meeting was her birthday. I told you this in her story. Look, even if you don't care that much, you should still do something, even if it's just out of politeness."
"I-"
"But the truth is, you want to do something special for her, don't you? Better get moving, laughing boy."
John just held his face in his hands.
"Fuck."
~~~
"No new bounties?"
Grey was scanning the boards of the Mercenary Guild, looking for another job to take. He didn't need the money, but he wanted to stay occupied. He grimaced as he looked at the jobs. Someday, he'd stop coming here and work honestly as an adventurer, but jobs as an adventurer weren't that common for a man of his skills.
Just then, the door slammed open, and everyone inside froze like a deer caught in a car's headlights. A fat noble stormed in, somewhat drunk, chased by half a dozen retainers. Was someone getting arrested? Clients rarely showed themselves, especially not in the guild building itself. Something like this was unheard of.
"No more. No more! I've ignored him for a year, and it still bothered me," the noble seethed, his hands trembling. "That bartender! That stupid demon! They dared to touch me… me! One thousand gold. Whoever brings me the head of that bartender and his little demon girl. Those idiots messed with the wrong person this time!" he cackled.
He slapped a piece of paper on the job board, then fell back, unconscious, and was dragged out by his retainers. Nobody moved. The place was dead quiet. Then, all at once, there was a flurry of noise as everyone stampeded to see whether it was all just a big hoax or if the noble was truly serious about his claims.
"He… he wasn't lying. One thousand gold coins."
"I could quit. I'd bet set for the rest of my life."
"You? You think you can do what Aiden couldn't? Isn't this that guy that killed him a year ago? Besides, there's no way this is real. It's probably an asshole pulling some kinda prank."
"That guy's an asshole, but he's a rich asshole. That's an official bounty. All we have to do is claim it. How hard can it be?"
"Rich enough to put a thousand gold bounty on a bartender? Who the hell is this bartender? Some kinda royal?"
Grey had moved to the back, lurking in the shadows, avoiding attention, but his keen eyes also saw the price and the name associated with the bounty.
He shook his head. It didn't matter. Whatever the reason…
"Quarta… what did you get yourself into now?" he muttered, disappearing without a trace. "I warned you. Why didn't you listen?"
~~~
"Hey. Prota."
The moon was high in the sky, the stars shining overhead like a blanket of light, not a single cloud in the sky to obscure their beauty. A warm spring breeze blew through the open windows, bringing in the smell of new grass and trees. The temperature was a big contrast compared to last year, which had been so cold and rainy. It was almost poetic.
John sighed. It was definitely intentional. Someone was messing with him, probably.
"Thanks."
"...?"
Prota didn't understand. What was John thanking her for?
"I just- you wouldn't get it, but… it was kind of boring, living alone for so long. So thanks, I guess. For sticking with me. The past year, it's been really nice. So… thank you."
He clenched his teeth, turning away. This wasn't good for his health. He was growing fond of the idea of some kind of companion, someone to keep him company, but in the back of his mind, he knew this wasn't sustainable.
It was like getting attached to a character in a story. No matter what you do, their story will eventually come to an end. The only way to keep them going is to continue writing the story, and more often than not, when a story continues for the sake of continuing, it grows stale. No, they all eventually come to an end. The same would happen with Prota. He'd experienced it before.
But he wanted to live in this delusion for just a little longer. He had time. It wasn't like anything would happen in the near future, right?
"Anyways, go to sleep. Tomorrow… well, you'll see," John said, collapsing onto the couch.
"Mm… ok," Prota said.
She was too tired to think about it.
"Nn… thank you. Thank you. Thank you…" she mumbled as she, too, fell onto the bed, going from the world of the living to a world of dreams.