Nurturing the Hero to Avoid Death

I come back to my senses and hurriedly rub my eyes.

Although they’re a little wet, it doesn’t mean I’m crying. It’s merely a physiological phenomenon.

“What do you mean by ‘again’? I’ve never cried before. It’s just that having someone pull my hand reminds me of my childhood, so I feel nostalgic.”

“I see.” Alfred peers into my eyes.

I avert my gaze.

“You cry pretty often, you know,” says Alfred in a teasing tone, making me want to deliver a haymaker to his stomach.

What’s with this role reversal, bullying me? That should have been my job!

“S-shut it! Didn’t I just mention that I’ve never cried before?”

I punch him in the gut, full force. But he doesn’t even twitch. I’m simultaneously impressed and annoyed with how resilient his body is.

With a laugh, he pulls me behind him.

“Wahhh!”

I almost lose my balance with this sudden motion, and I squeeze his hand.

Alfred looks back at me with such a bright smile that I can’t help but feel embarrassed.

Ah, goodness.

Why am I gripping his hand instead of shaking it off?

If I do this, then…

Although I’m looking down, I can still feel his joy radiating to me.

What should I do?

How should I respond to this?

As I follow after Alfred, the gears in my brain spin so quickly that it almost goes out of order. After a few moments of hesitation, I say, “…H-hey. Hey! I… I am still not completely sure about this…”

I was answering to the question he asked to me at the bar last night.

That’s right, I’m putting my answer on hold.

I escaped.

It’s not running away, just a tactical retreat. There’s no shame in taking my time to think things through.

Furthermore, while Alfred and I are on the cusp of adulthood, we’re technically still kids.

We’re reckless, and easily malleable.

That’s why I don’t think we should coin what we have with a name yet.

I don’t have to decide right now.

After all, Alfred might fall for a beautiful girl someday, perhaps even the “Holy Maiden” right after meeting her.

We’re both still clueless about what the future might entail.

Alfred pauses in his steps.

He turns to face me again. Thinking he might say something, I put myself on guard. Yet he stays silent.

I feel like a criminal waiting for my sentence, the uncomfortable silence almost palpable.

Is he angry?

Alfred is typically easygoing, and hasn’t much interest in other people’s businesses. But it looks like he still has his sore spots.

I treat his feelings as a passing fancy, something that will fade with time.

He might have noticed that I’m trying to act like nothing happened last night.

I can’t stand the strange silence, so I prepare myself and timidly look up at him.

When our gazes meet, he narrows his clear blue eyes in a smile.

“It’s okay, I’m planning on taking it slow, so take your time as well. I don’t want to have you fly away from me after all.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

Alfred grins, then crouches down, puzzling me. All of a sudden his lips meet mine.

It’s almost as though he’s stealing a kiss. Heat pools in my core, and out of reflex I shove him away.

I don’t even have time to be surprised.

Damn him for being so huge! Can’t he just give me some of his muscles, or a few inches of height?

And what’s with him kissing me out of the blue? I can’t be too careful with this brat!

“I told you this is off limits!”

“Wait until we’re legal adults, right?”

These words said in a teasing tone make me queasy, but I shrug it off. “T-that’s right!”

The fact that it’s just kissing makes this slip up less alarming, but going beyond is still a big no-no.

Wait a second. Why am I okay with kisses? Aren’t I too accustomed to it? What’s with it being okay if it’s just kissing?

Is something wrong with me?

Get a grip on yourself. You need to be firm!

Alfred smiles as if understanding something, and after giving me a sideways glance, he continues to walk, his hand still gripping mine.

W-what is it?

Damn it, why are you acting so calm? You’re grating on my nerves.

You can’t deny that you’re just a child compared to my age… Well, my mental age.

So why am I, a full grown man, getting so flustered?

Damn it.

I glance at his hand, large and unwilling to release my own.

I want to shake it off and flee. But try as I might, I can’t do that.

I’m helpless, and don’t know how to handle this strange feeling lingering in my heart.

A deep sigh escapes my lips, as I look up at him, his hair the color of spun gold.