At the training ground, the heroes, priests, and knights had split into three groups and begun mock battles.

Ayame Yuuki was facing two priests, firing off fireballs and shards of ice at each other.

She wasn’t reciting what you’d call spell chants.
Sometimes I could see her mouth moving slightly, so maybe she was muttering incantations, but there were no flashy finishing lines.
A little disappointing.

Even when nothing visible was happening, the ground burst apart, so that was probably wind magic.
She swung her staff like she was playing tennis or something, sometimes batting back fireballs, sometimes erasing shards midair.
Her position barely changed, so maybe it was closer to table tennis than tennis, but when thick pillars of fire or concentrated volleys of ice came at her, she dodged with a light, brilliant twist of her body.
Wow, so cool…

Yukihiro Uesugi was facing a large knight with a shield and Zaza.

While deflecting the fired bolts with the shield, he ducked under Zaza’s downward swing, then swept at the shield knight’s feet with his right leg.
The knight leapt back with agility that didn’t match his bulky frame, but Yukihiro stuck to him like glue, smashing the shield with the back of his unarmed right hand and thrusting his left hand forward toward Zaza.

A hard metallic sound rang out as a sword struck the gauntlet.
After leaping back to create distance, the three paused for a breath, then clashed again.

As for Shota Tatsumi and Rei Nagatani, I honestly couldn’t even tell what they were doing anymore.

That thing tearing up the ground in every direction had to be the iron ball.
But could something that heavy really move so fast that you couldn’t see the moment it landed?
Was it really iron?
Was it actually a sponge?
Foam?
But then it wouldn’t gouge the ground like that.

The chain, transformed into an iron serpent, aimed for Rei’s ankle.
He dodged with a light sidestep.
Waiting at the end of that motion as if anticipating it, Shota swung his crescent blade, which was blocked by Rei’s sword.
Vertical, horizontal, their exchanges overlapped with the circular paths of the spinning iron ball.
It was incredibly dangerous, yet looked like an elegant dance.

The resounding clang of a gong made me jump.

Realizing it was the signal to stop, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.

When everyone froze perfectly in place, I found myself captivated all over again.

Inertia exists, after all.
Stopping a movement dead at full speed takes even more skill.

As I applauded enthusiastically, they all came over with embarrassed smiles.

“Did you all practice martial arts before…?
Are you swordsmasters or something?”

Given how out of place I’ve been since the start, it’s too late to care now, but at this point it almost feels like I wasn’t summoned as a hero at all, but as the heroes’ caretaker.
Maybe sneaking into the kitchen is actually my true role.

“I played soccer, but I never did any combat sports,” Rei said, and Shota nodded.

“Same here.
Actually, I was terrible at sports.”

“There’s no way I’d do something that sweaty,” Ayame added as she loosened her tied-up hair.
Your hair is beautiful.
Mine got its shine, bounce, and volume back after rejuvenating too, but I guess the base material is different.
It’s like a shampoo commercial.

“Well, I do have experience, but even so, I couldn’t move like that back in my own world,”

“Experience?
You know, watching you made me think of something from a movie.
What was it called again…
Right!
Barikata!”

“That’s Hakata ramen!
You mean Gun Kata, maybe!?”

Oof…

Yukihiro Uesugi was apparently a ranked practitioner in both kendo and karate.
Despite looking flashy, he was hardcore athletic.

But like the other three, his combat ability mostly came from the physical enhancement he gained after coming here.

“Sure, maybe I got used to it a bit faster, but at this level, I don’t think my experience from my old world even matters anymore,”

With Yukihiro sounding more relaxed, the other three agreed.

And then.

Here I am now, alone, at the training ground in the middle of the night.

I’d been doing stretches in my room every day.
More precisely, since the third day.
Since I realized my body had regained its former flexibility.
The room I was given was larger than my old house’s entire lot, but the luxurious furniture and the canopy bed dominated the space, and I kept worrying about breaking a vase or something and making someone sad, so I couldn’t really stretch freely.

That’s why I came to the training ground during the day.

And if complete beginners could move their bodies that freely…

I repeat the stretches I did earlier, carefully extending my muscles and loosening them, making sure my joints are warmed up.

I place my left heel against my right toes.

I imagine a thin thread extending from the crown of my head up into the sky.
As if pulled by that thread, I slowly straighten my bent knee.

Keeping my center of gravity steady, I slide my left toes straight to the side.
In sync with that foot, I open my left arm.

My elbows and wrists relaxed, soft as if cradling a blanket.

I raise my left leg to waist height, draw a circle forward with my pointed toes, then gently lower it to the ground.

The training ground is surrounded by deep forest.

Between the dark silhouette that blends into the night sky to my left and the narrow band of moonlight, I fix my gaze on a large, crimson star shining brighter than the rest.

I slide my left foot sideways again and this time place my weight onto it.

The thread suspending me doesn’t slacken, and it spins me around.

My gaze stays behind for a beat, then snaps back to meet my rotating body.

Toward the star, spin, spin, faster and faster.

A soft laugh escapes me.

I never aimed to become a ballerina.

I attended a relaxed ballet class from age four until I married at twenty, one that held a small recital once a year for family.
Even when my parents’ work made us move often, I always found a class wherever we went.

It was truly just lessons.

Even so.
I never dreamed big, but I loved dancing.

I don’t have pointe shoes, but I asked a maid to get me soft-soled leather shoes that could substitute for ballet slippers.

As long as I can spread my toes and grip the ground, that’s enough.

Stars pour down on me.

I overlap my left fingertips with the next green star and leap into a grand jeté.

Even when I land, the momentum doesn’t fade.
Spin, spin, repeating sharp pirouettes and fouettés.

Jeté.
Jeté.
Entrelaçé.
Jeté.

The stars chase after me as they flow.

The wind doesn’t restrain me, it carries me.

Gravity is already under my control.

My landing foot wobbles on the final grand jeté.

I can feel my body moving on its own to recover my balance.

Using my left hand on the ground as a pivot, I flip sideways.
Yeah, that’s not ballet.

The wobble happened because the center of gravity I’d been used to until recently is different from my current one.
My body shape changed, after all.
Once I get used to it, it’ll be nothing.
My body is telling me that.
After all, I used to dance in this body.

“Heh… hah… ahah… kuh, kuhuhuhu…”

I crouch down and cover my mouth with both hands, trying to stifle my laughter.

This is my second “what a miracle” since coming to this world!!

“Who goes there!”

“Hyaaaaaaaa!”

A sharp voice from behind makes me scream and leap into the air.

As I turn, a blinding white light floods my eyes.

“…Kazuha-dono…?”

“H-Hey!
My eyes!
My eyes!
Ow!”

“Ah, s-sorry.
I’ll lower the flame.”

As I writhe with my hands clamped over my eyes like some dramatic colonel, the light softens.
Blinking back tears, I finally look past the lantern to see Zaza’s bewildered face.
The lantern flame now glows a gentle orange.
In a world without electricity, light sources are fire, but their intensity can be controlled with magic.

…Yeah, someone crouched in the dark of the training ground laughing would look suspicious…
Of course you’d shine a bright light and challenge them…

Zaza sits down beside me in silence.

“Um, Zaza…?
Are you working this late?”

“Ah, no, well… sort of.
I was just on my way back to the barracks over there.”

He points toward a building slightly east of the star I’d been using as a marker.
The four-story brick structure had been beautifully adorned with ivy when I saw it during the day.

“Oh, that’s the barracks?
Do all the knights live there?”

“Young, single ones, yes.
When they rise in rank or start families, many get houses in the castle town.”

Apparently my confusion showed on my face, because Zaza gave a small wry smile.

“People in higher positions like me should really move out too, but it’s close and convenient.
I might be making things cramped for the younger ones.
Fortunately, I think they tolerate me.”

“Convenient… does that mean you work this late every day?
No offense, but for such a physically demanding job, isn’t that too much?”

I’d thought this country had amazing employee benefits given how well we’re treated, but is it possible that internally it’s actually a black workplace?

“No, no, no, it’s just recently.
If the boss doesn’t rest, the subordinates can’t rest either, right?
By the king’s policy, resting properly is part of the job.
…So keep this a secret, okay?
Things should settle down in a few days, and I’d get scolded if it got out that I’ve been staying late.”

The finger-to-the-lips gesture means the same thing here, huh.
I smile and raise my own finger.
Also, that king really is a great boss.
Even if he looks like a salesman.

Chewing over his words as if hesitating, Zaza peers into my eyes.
The red lantern flame flickers in his hazel-colored pupils.
He has a gentle, refined face, but his gaze is surprisingly strong.

“I actually like my job quite a bit.
All the knights take pride in this work, so in that sense we’re the same, but I tend to get too absorbed.
I got so caught up in my duties that before I knew it, I’d reached this age.
When I realized it, I was the oldest bachelor in the order.”

“…How old are you?”

I hesitate, then ask anyway.
This feels like a cue, right?
And this flow, this atmosphere… isn’t this what you’d call a nice moment?

“I’m forty-two.
A proper old man.”

I seeee.
A bit younger than me, but once you’re past forty, age gaps stop mattering much, right?
What do I do?
Is this a moment where I’m allowed to feel my heart flutter?
Or not?

Wow.
I don’t have much experience, and it’s such a distant memory that I can’t tell if this is a chance or not.

“Kazuha-dono.”

“Could you maybe stop using ‘-dono’?”

“…-sama?”

“One more try.
You can even just call me by my name.”

“N-no, that wouldn’t be appropriate.
Um, then… Kazuha-san?”

“Yes.
What is it?”

Calm down.
Don’t lose your composure.
Be a mature woman.

“As you can see, I’m an immature man with no family.
I can only imagine what a parent feels like.
Even so, as someone roughly your father’s age—”

…Huh?
Oh, right.
I never told anyone my real age.
What’s the marriageable age in this world anyway?

“Y-yes?”

“I believe I’ve gained enough experience to at least imitate a father protecting his daughter.”

H-huh…?

“I know you must be anxious.
That’s only natural.
I don’t know about your world, but here, girls around your age still live with their parents.
I can’t replace them, but still, if it’s between that and crying alone in a place like this—”

Wait, wha—?
Crying?
Do you mean when my eyes were watery from the light earlier?
Huh?

“Please rely on us.
I’ll listen to anything.
Anything I can do, I will.
And if I can’t, Chief Priest Ernes is there too.
So please don’t let a child stifle her voice and cry in a place like this—”

“No!
Wait!
Wait!
I’m really sorry, that’s not it!
It’s not that!
You’re wrong!”

Ah, how kind this world is!

How am I supposed to explain that I was laughing because I was drunk on my own physical ability!?

Do I really have to!?
What kind of humiliation play is this!!

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