story_spot_1_1

Spot.

Spot, I'm here to return your comic.

Hmm, the door's not locked... Is he... out?

I'll put it back where it belongs!

Ugh...

O-Oh no! Did I knock the bookshelf over?!

I gotta pick it back up...

Okay!

But all the comics are on the floor now... I don't know which one to put where... Is Spot gonna get mad?

Maybe I'll just put all the ones with the same titles in a pile together and wait till he's back.

Huh? How come this one doesn't have a title?

Popukar finds a leather bound book that stands out from the pile of comics. There is nothing but dust on its plain cover. No title, no art, not even a single word.

Which pile should I put this in?

Popukar flips open the book. The pages have slightly yellowed. There are comics inside, but they are all clearly hand-drawn rather than printed.

Although they aren't very professional, they aren't careless doodles, either.

My knee... My leg...

Bornu, can't you talk to your old man and get us an officer with better things to do than make us 'train' by crawling on the ground for an hour? As if that's fun?

I tried. No dice.

This Bornu guy looks kinda like Spot!

I think I remember, Spot's real name is... Something... Bor...?

Bukar Bornu! Yep!

Oh, the line pokes out of the frame here...

At ease—Attention!

Look at the sorry shape you're in! Slacking off. Can't even stand straight! Our brothers on the front lines are spilling blood and sweat every day. What about you?

You've even got a man reading comics—

—Brigadier General Bornu!

At ease.

Who's reading comics?

Sir! It's Bukar Bornu!

Popukar turns the page, a wide shot covers the whole thing.

Bornu the soldier's hidden comics were all piled in the middle of the barracks.

The person who drew the comics in the book very carefully drew their covers, titles, and issue numbers. The strokes are all very heavy, so much that the pages are almost torn.

The people around him are crudely drawn in only a few strokes, to the point that they seem almost unreal.

Brigade, kneel!

Not you, Bornu.

You are going to read every single word in these comic books. When you finish, that's when they can stand.

Brigadier General Bornu, sir. The books are mine. I should be the one to kneel...

You'd best get started, or they will be kneeling until dawn.

Even these books with their dreamed-up stories know that a man has to take responsibility for the mess he makes.

You can't even do that, and you still read those superhero stories? You want to be a hero? <i>You?</i>

By the time the young man is finished reading his books aloud, it has already been two hours.

Although some of the other soldiers sympathized with him at first, after two hours of kneeling, their eyes were filled with nothing but scorn.

Is it really so bad to read comics?

No, Bornu's daddy—Spot's daddy's got it all wrong!

After that, the entire brigade was sent to the front lines.

Most believed the reason behind this decision was Bornu angering his father, and this made his situation all the worse.

In the end, Bornu chose to desert.

He was caught by the patrolmen before he could even leave the encampment. But, coincidentally, an enemy attack came at the exact same time.

The enemy's onslaught was swift and brutal. Before long, the already demoralized brigade was defeated.

There's nobody here. Let's split up and run.

Why the face? You gonna tell me you just remembered you've got a dad who's a general?

I hate him. He humiliated me, belittled me, and said I could never be a hero.

Then what are you waiting for?

I don't want everything to go his way.

What, you've got a fever? Got a concussion from all the explosions?

If I run, I'll be branded as a deserter forever. He'll never let me live it down, I'll spend the rest of my days in shame!

Yeah, and? You seriously want to be a hero? Save your own ass first!

I know I'm no hero.

But if I die, the miserable old man is going to regret what he said. Even if he doesn't, at least he won't have anything else to complain about. And if I survive this, I'll throw back in his face everything he's ever said to humiliate me!

If you wanna run, then run. This is my problem. Family business.

The young man knows that he doesn't have what it takes to fight this enemy. All he can do is gather the scattered remnants of his brigade.

Soon, the band of remnants grows into a squad of several dozen men.

Of course, the enemy has eyes on them, but the young man persists.

When they see the shield in his hand, more and more men start to gather at his side.

By the time they evacuate to the nearest allied encampment, there are two hundred men following him.

Bornu, come forward!

In recognition of your contribution to the last battle, you are hereby awarded the Hero's Medal, Class II!

Now, read out your citation!

The young man takes the citation from his superior, a heavy medal on his chest.

He suppresses his surging emotions and sweeps his eyes across the crowd below, only to find his father missing.

With equal parts regret and relief, he begins to read the citation.

This medal is hereby awarded on the order of...

Brigadier General Bornu.

Bornu...?!

*sniff* *sniff*...

I knew it! I knew Spot and his daddy were going to make up!

Popukar rubs her eyes and flips to the next page to find it blank.

That's it?

Popukar, what are you reading?

Eeep!

Sorry, Spot. I didn't mean to knock the bookshelf over...

Eh, I know you didn't.

Wait, that thing you're reading...

I love this comic!

You drew it yourself, didn't you? I never knew you were so talented, Spot!

I didn—

'I didn't draw that, and that main character isn't me.'

For some reason, Spot can't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Popukar, it's almost bedtime. Go find Orchid.

Yep! We have training tomorrow, and Orchid is throwing us a party afterwards!

Oh, I forgot about that.

Spot, are you mad...?

Of course not. I don't even get mad at Midnight.

Now off you go.

Spot picks up the book and hesitates for a moment before turning around to sort through the pile of comics on the floor.

He knows his comics like the back of his hand, and just looking at the art on the back cover is enough to tell which issue of which series from which creator a book is. This will take no time to clean up.

After he puts everything back in place, Spot takes a look at the leather book again.

No, I need to tell Popukar not to let anyone know what she just saw.

Hero? I've gave up on that a long time ago.

But...

Hey, if I can at least be a hero to Popukar... to A6...

No way. I don't have what it takes.

But...

Party! Party!

That's right. It's a party.

(Sighs audibly)

You all did great in that second round of drills. Lucky you did, too, or I would've canceled our party.

Hehe, I gave it everything I had to keep Instructor Dobermann from lecturing us for an hour.

Oh, did you now?

Uhh... Maybe seventy to eighty percent?

If I may say so, all of us performed exceptionally well today.

Of course, if I had to name one man who gave the most exceptional performance, I reluctantly nominate myself!

Oh, what a cold response. I'm hurt.

Especially you, Spot. Do you really have no thoughts whatsoever on my perfect battle performance?

Huh?

Sorry, something on my mind. Wasn't listening.

Oh, how cruel—

Okay, Midnight, shut up.

(Shrugs elegantly)

Honestly, though, I think Spot did the best out of all of us today.

Yeah!

He was acting kinda weird during the first drill, like he was trying to fight Instructor Dobermann. I was kinda worried...

But not the second one! He healed me right when I needed it, and he helped me block Instructor Dobermann!

That block was clutch.

I could tell right away the angle she was attacking from was iffy, but I didn't expect Spot to basically teleport right above her.

If he hadn't been there at that exact moment, Instructor Dobermann would've come right for me after she took down Popukar. If that happened, we would've been done for.

Indeed!

Both Spot's heroic aura during the first round and his quick wits during the second round <i>almost</i> had me playing second fiddle—

Midnight, cut the bullshit.

Spot's... not in a good mood.

Popukar told you?

(Nods)

Why... Why is everyone unhappy, all of a sudden?

Spot, was I not supposed to tell anyone about the comic—

Popukar, let's not talk about this right now, okay?

Ugh—

So—

Right, the party! Orchid, is the canteen gonna be crowded today?

Don't worry. With our meticulous Orchid leading the way, no matter how crowded the place is, we'll definitely find seats. Isn't that right?

Sure...

Spot, don't be mad, okay...? I'm sorry...

I told you already. I'm not mad.

It's just... There are some things I'm not sure I should talk about, and I haven't figured out how to talk about them.

What do you mean?

Like—Hm...

Midnight, say something.

Oh? My friend, you've finally turned to the deep well of knowledge that is my brain. The perfect place to seek inspiration.

Uh...

Sorry, this is the first time I've ever heard a guy admit his brain's full of water.

You see, Popukar? When I say 'I haven't figured out how to talk about this,' I mean I know how to say 'uh,' but not quite 'his brain's full of water.' Get it?

Anyway, I'll explain everything when we get to the canteen.

So... I didn't do anything bad?

No, you didn't.

So, can I tell everyone what happened to you?

Popukar...

It's alright. Go ahead. If you do it, that's less I have to explain myself.

Wha?

Wow, Spot, I had no idea you were so badass!

Your brigade was routed, and you still gathered two hundred men in the aftermath?

As much as it pains me to admit it, that is an achievement even I owe a standing ovation.

But why did you get so gloomy when someone learned what you did? If I were you, I would be shouting my heroic deeds from the rooftops, to everyone far and wide, showing my medal to anyone who would look.

I didn't get a medal.

He didn't pin one on you? What an oversight—

Because...

Spot picks up a dinner roll and takes a bite.

He figures that if he bites down hard, he'll gain the courage he needs here.

But he doesn't do it.

His jaws exert just as much force as usual. From chewing to swallowing, everything goes as smooth as could be.

Because I never gathered up any routed men.

That night, when the enemy came, it didn't take long before I was alone.

I took my chance and slipped out of their encirclement, and then...

Spot pauses for a moment to take a sip of juice, almost like it's intentional.

He's worried he might choke, but his mind is too occupied.

He once assumed he would keep this secret forever.

But, at this very moment, he realizes it would be more difficult to hide it from his friends, with whom he spends so much time.

There was no going against my gut feeling, no gathering the remaining forces, and no award ceremony.

I ran away. That's it.

The whole damned army hated me. They expected me to run. And it's basically my personality. I was performing my strategic function.

If I was gonna play hero, it would've spoiled the whole plot.

Spot, you don't have to talk about yourself like that.

Whatever.

What of it, Orchid? You're thinking I didn't want Popukar to tell you guys because heroics like that aren't my style, right?

Yeah... pretty much.

A moment of silence passes.

Moments of silence like this are rare for Team A6.

Spots takes a look around.

Popukar seems a bit dejected; Midnight appears frivolous as ever; Orchid looks a bit tense, stirring her coffee repeatedly with a spoon; and Catapult sits restlessly as ever.

The one and only thing that's common to all of them is that they genuinely care about him.

So... you drew the comic Popukar was talking about?

Yeah.

That brigade was stupid. I listened to my old man and went out there to suffer. I had just about as much water in my brain as Midnight does now.

The officers never saw footsoldiers as human. Every month, someone would collapse from overtraining, and in the end, we'd be shedding our blood in the pointless squabbles of the lords ameer.

The hot climate was probably the only good thing about those years. The heat dried up all the water in my brain, and finally gave me a clear enough head to realize I should just desert.

But...

What if I didn't?

For a long time, I couldn't shake the thought. And that's what gave birth to the self-glorifying doodle Popukar found.

I drew it, even fantasizing like an idiot that if I didn't desert, my old man would've come around to see me in a new light.

Spot, let me go right to the point here. As well as I know you, I can say this: that's impossible.

Midnight!

It's fine. Let him talk.

Many moons ago, when I still dominated my line of work as the Devil of the Eastern Night, I once had an industrious coworker. He was known far and wide for his incisive way with words.

We've barely gotten started, and I've already got a bad feeling about this.

If you're gonna tell me your buddy joined the Higashinese military for some reason and couldn't fit in, well, I'm gonna be disappointed.

(Laughs)

*sigh*.

I can see right through your phony stories, but at least your heart's in the right place.

If you end up being some great hero, I'll probably lose faith in the collective sanity of mankind.

But if everybody comes to see <i>me</i> as a hero, I think I'll probably assume the species is just stupid.

At the end of the day, my family raised me on an ideal that I just can't fit.

That's why the comic ends with me getting a medal. It's the best my lousy imagination can conjure up anyway.

Even if I kept it going, once Bornu became a hero, I wouldn't know how to keep his heroics up. I can't plan it out, especially when it's an idea born out of a contradiction to begin with.

I think... I don't get it anymore... kinda...

It's okay. It'll make sense after you grow up.

But did I do something bad? Is that why you had to talk about stuff you don't want to talk about?

No way.

Huh?

Actually, it's all thanks to you, Popukar...

(Scratches head)

(Looks around)

(Clears throat awkwardly)

Spot, are you sick?

He's certainly not sick.

But Spot looks like he's not feeling well...

Words he hasn't spoken in his entire life are brewing in his mind right now. They're words so corny—

—Are you sure about that, Midnight?

—No, words of admiration. They are embarrassing to say to someone for the first time, you see.

Even I, cunning though I am, found myself terribly flustered when I hosted my first customer.

I'm right, aren't I, Spot?

What do you say to a little one-on-one sparring tomorrow?

Haha, it'd be my pleasure.

Okay, let me finish what I was about to say—

—It's all thanks to Popukar that I realized...

(Quietly) ...It might just be easier to tell the people I trust most about my ridiculous 'heroics' than keeping them a secret.

I see. So Spot is saying we're the ones he trusts the most.

Spot, if you want to sock him, I'm willing to look the other way.

Orchid—

Whatever.

Him spelling it out is as stomach-churning as ever, but seeing as he's not wrong... Whatever.

That's more like it.

Alright, I propose a toast to Spot for the story he told us today. Na zdrowie!

Cheers!

Alright, enough about my fake hero story—

But you <i>are</i> a hero!

Huh?

You blocked Instructor Dobermann for me and protected everyone. You're why we're having this party now. You're a hero!

I'm going to hold a medal ceremony for you!

What?!

We're all gonna be at the ceremony. Me, Orchid, Catapult, Midnight...

Hmm... That's not enough!

Let me think—Um, Bubble!

Say, Popukar?

And Shamare, Suzuran...

Orchid, Catapult, help me out here. I've got a feeling we have a tough fight on our hands.

What about me, then?

I'm thinking of telling the kitchen you're the one who talked her into this idea.

You're welcome to go back to the dorm and mourn your paycheck, though.

Who is it?

It's me. I have something for you.

Here. A 'hero certificate' from Popukar.

A what?

Didn't we spend hours talking Popukar out of the silly ceremony idea?

That we did, but she had a new idea when she got back to her room. No one could stop her this time.

In any case, here's her hand-drawn hero certificate. For you.

And you should know she asked all of us to sign it.

And you did?

Naturally.

Yours is the only signature we need now. As soon as you sign it, your appointment as Team A6's hero will be unanimous.

Spot doesn't answer him.

He holds in his hands the 'hero certificate.' On it are the most congratulatory of words that Popukar could muster, adorned with a bunch of childish-looking art and decorative borders.

Spot reads the citation text once. Then, he finds his four teammates' signatures at the bottom of the awfully heavy-feeling sheet of paper.

It warms his heart.

What's wrong? Do you need me to lend you an exquisite fountain pen to add the appropriate gravitas to your outstanding signature?

No thanks.

Spot doesn't sign the certificate. Instead, he takes out an elegant photo frame and puts the 'hero certificate' inside.

Then, he puts the frame on the most conspicuous part of his nightstand.

Now that won't do, Spot. Popukar will make a huge fuss if you don't sign it.

You aren't worried about Popukar. You're just worried Orchid will come complaining if Popukar makes a fuss about it.

Excellent insight!

I don't need your accolades. I'm not signing this.

This is who I am, this is the life for me. I'm no hero.

What? Not gonna say anything?

I'm simply overwhelmed that I finally managed to melt that ice-cold heart of yours with my earnest feelings—

Midnight, I've had a sudden change of heart. Maybe it's not so hard to be a hero.

Oh?

The next time I go on a mission with you, I'll make sure there's a bad-tempered girl there for you to flirt with.

You'll get your ass whooped so bad, you'll end up in Medical for weeks. Then, I'll really be A6's hero.

The two share a laugh.