Awakener's Guide to Climbing the Tower

Higher Vitality had kept Hiiro alive after blows that would have killed an ordinary person. His level-up restoration had stopped his bleeding enough for them to drag him back through the gate. It had not erased everything. Cracked ribs remained cracked, torn muscles still needed rest, and a body did not become invincible simply because numbers on a status window increased. Hiiro would recover faster than an ordinary person. A few days, perhaps.

’Probably.’ Misha hated that word.

Her thoughts returned to the forest where the moment Gerbaut’s soul entered her body, his skill had helped greatly. With [Guardian’s Oath], he grew stronger while protecting others. The more danger pressed toward the people behind him, the more firmly her body answered beneath his control.

Gerbaut had not needed to tell her what he intended. The boy behind him would not be touched again.

Misha took another sip from the cup and immediately regretted it.

Beside her, Caius drank in silence. When she glanced at him, his gaze rested on Hiiro, but his fingers had tightened around the wooden cup. She studied him over the rim of her cup. For half a second, he looked older. Not physically, his face remained too young for the heaviness settling behind his eyes.

Then he blinked, and the boy returned. "They won’t be sent alone again."

Misha lowered her cup. "Sent? You make it sound as though you gave him permission."

His eyes shifted toward her. "I gave him the route."

"He came up with the plan."

"And I approved it."

"You also told him not to leave until we understood the Commanders’ movements."

Caius’ jaw moved once. "I still gave him the route."

Misha stared at him, then her gaze landed at his hand. The words were calm but the grip on the cup was not.

She almost laughed. The situation was not funny but somehow, both of them had ended up standing in the same infirmary, blaming themselves for the decisions of a boy who had literally jumped from a flying carpet after being told not to.

They might have had more in common than Misha wanted to admit, and she had no intention of admitting it out loud.

The boy finally looked at her. "If someone follows a plan I helped build, I’m responsible for what happens."

"No." Misha’s reply came before he finished breathing. "You’re responsible for the choices you made. Hiiro is responsible for ignoring the part where we told him not to do it."

Caius said nothing as he lowered his gaze. She watched the tension settle across his shoulders.

"You don’t get to collect every mistake around you and call it leadership," she continued, quieter now. "That isn’t responsibility. That’s greed."

His brows drew together as he looked back at her. "Greed?"

She took the cup from his hand before his fingers cracked the wood. "You’re taking blame that belongs to other people."

His gaze lowered down at his empty hand.

Misha held both cups against her chest. "You approved a plan with conditions. Hiiro ignored those conditions and Astrid followed because she caught him sneaking away. You weren’t there when they left."

"I should have noticed."

"So should I."

There it was, the same habit she had just accused him of. The same need to search backward through every decision until she found a moment where she could have prevented what followed. She should take her own advice.

Apparently, telling someone else was easier but doing it herself was another matter.

"Master..."

The word slipped from Caius so quietly that it might have disappeared beneath the sound inside the infirmary but this time, Misha heard it, making her head turn.

Caius was now looking toward Hiiro’s cot, his face composed except for the tension holding his jaw in place. He did not seem to realize he had spoken aloud, or perhaps he had and was already deciding how to explain it away.

Before Misha could ask, a wooden stool crashed onto the floor. The sharp noise cut through the infirmary and sent several heads turning. Hiiro had somehow managed to plant one foot on the floor.

Astrid had one palm planted against his forehead. She held him there with one arm extended, her expression unchanged while Hiiro leaned into her hand with the determination of someone attempting to walk through a locked door.

"I need to test whether I can stand," he protested, breath catching halfway through the sentence.

Her eyes traveled down his body. "You cannot. You are bent in half."

Hiiro glanced down at himself, apparently considering the argument. "That still counts."

Astrid pushed him. He dropped back onto the mattress with a muffled grunt. The cot creaked beneath his weight, and the healer beside him closed her eyes as though silently asking the Tower why it kept sending her patients like this.

"I need movement for recovery." Hiiro looked toward Misha. His hair clung damply to his forehead, but he still managed to look expectant. "Tell her."

"You need rest."

His face fell. Then he turned toward Caius next. "Caius?"

"You need rest."

Hiiro looked betrayed. He pressed one hand dramatically against his chest, only to touch the edge of his bandages. Pain flashed across his face at once, his shoulders curled, and a strangled breath escaped through his teeth. "Everyone in this party has turned against me."

Astrid caught his wrist and moved his hand away from the injury again, placing it back onto the blanket. "Stop touching it."

"I was expressing betrayal."

"You were reopening the wound."

"Emotionally, it was necessary."

Astrid released his wrist and adjusted the cloth around his waist instead. "Physically, you are an idiot."

Misha’s mouth curved before she could stop it. It felt strange after everything outside, almost inappropriate inside a room full of injured soldiers.

Hiiro noticed anyway, his own smile appeared through the exhaustion, smaller than usual. "I told you I’d come back."

The words landed differently from the rest. He did not raise his chin or flash the bright grin he wore whenever he thought he had accomplished something impressive. He only looked at her from the cot, pale beneath the bruises, as though surviving had settled the argument between them.

Misha’s smile faded as she remembered his body beneath the broken spear she stopped. The way his injured ankle had failed when he tried to stand and Astrid screaming his name from several paces away.

"Hold these." She handed both wooden cups to Caius before walking toward Hiiro.

His smile weakened with every step she took. When she stopped beside the cot, Hiiro straightened as much as the bandages allowed, his back remained stiff, his hands resting carefully over the blanket.

She lifted one hand and he flinched as her finger struck the center of his forehead.

"Ow!"

"That was for ignoring my warning."

Hiiro rubbed the spot with his free hand. "You already scolded me."

"This is separate."

"How many separate punishments are there?"

"I haven’t finished counting."

He stared at her in alarm. Beside him, Astrid gave a small nod of approval. The movement was so solemn that it almost looked like an official judgement had been passed.

Caius stood behind Misha with both cups balanced in his hands. He lowered his face slightly, but not before they caught the faint pull at the corner of his mouth.

Misha looked down at Hiiro. "You helped save the checkpoint."

His shoulders lifted, the familiar spark returned to his eyes. His mouth opened, no doubt preparing to explain every brilliant detail of what he had done.

Then she raised one finger before he could speak. She flicked his forehead once again.

"Ow!" His hand flew back to the spot. "What was that one for?"

"You were also unbelievably stupid."

Astrid looked toward the wall, though her shoulders shifted with the effort of holding back a reaction.

Hiiro stared at Misha with wounded disbelief. "You could have combined the two."

"No. They deserved separate punishments."

’But that was the same forehead..."

"You still have one."

"For now."

The doctor made a quiet choking sound and covered it with a cough.

Misha kept her eyes on the boy in front of her until his complaints faded.

"You pulled all six Commanders away from the wall," she said. Her voice lowered as the humor drained from it. "You broke their formation and forced the others to follow. The soldiers at the checkpoint had time to recover because of you."

Hiiro’s hand lowered from his forehead. His fingers settled on the blanket.

"You bought them time," Misha continued. "You also left without permission, ignored the part where we told you to wait, endangered Astrid, and nearly died because you thought being right would protect you."

Hiiro’s gaze dropped, the restless energy around him disappeared. His shoulders lowered, and the blanket wrinkled beneath his fingers.

"I didn’t drag her," he muttered, glancing briefly toward Astrid. "She jumped on the carpet."

Astrid’s eyes narrowed. "Because you were trying to sneak away alone."

"You could have stayed."

"You would be dead."

"That’s difficult to prove."

Astrid leaned slightly closer. Her voice remained calm, but her fingers tightened around the edge of the stool. "I watched a spear falling toward your face."

Hiiro’s mouth closed and for several seconds, neither of them moved.

The red-head looked away first. Her eyes settled on the bandage around her wrist. She rubbed one thumb against the cloth as though she had only been discussing the weather.

Misha had seen the fear on her face in the forest. She hid it better now that they were out of danger. The calm expression had returned, neat and controlled, but Misha remembered how desperately she had pulled against the Commander’s chain.

Hiiro remembered too. His gaze remained on her a moment longer before lowering to his hands.

"Being strong doesn’t make every risk worth taking," Misha said, her voice softening. "Not even if you think you’re the protagonist of this world."

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