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I’ve never seen this ceiling before.

It is obvious that this isn’t my room. Circulating through the room is a gentle and pleasant floral scent.

It’s bright.

Is it morning? Or, is the day nearing noon?

When I roll over, I see a window to my side. The curtains are half drawn.

Through the window’s gap a refreshing breeze wheedles its way over, caressing my cheeks in a gentle embrace.

I rub my eyes. And then, I freeze.

The hand in view is surprisingly thin and pale—

The hand is small.

“Huh?!”

What is this?

What is this what is this what is this?!

I clench my short, oh-so-stubby hands close and open. Anyone can see that these belong to a child.

Though not as tiny as a baby’s, the hand is little. It’s about one third the size of my original one. How old is the owner of these hands? Perhaps the hand belongs to a ten-year-old. It’s the size of a brat’s, some sparkly first grader in primary school. Not to mention, the skin color is a pale white.

Such a shade is similar to a westerner’s.

I leap in the air. My heart is pounding, going overdrive. Breathing becomes difficult.

“What is this … What the fuck?!” Without thinking, I grasp my throat with both hands. The voice that escaped my lips was high-pitched as well.

Specifically, it’s a child’s squeaky voice.

My throat is slender. Freaked out, I scan the surrounding area.

It’s spacious.

The room is about four times the size of mine. Hugging the wall are two bookcases spilling with books. There’s a shiny and polished desk; its streamlined feet give off a premium feel. There’s also a leather shoulder bag, its size obviously meant for children. A large, no, humongous closet. A landscape painting with a high-class frame.

On top of a table is a vase fit with a flower. Those also appear expensive.

The whole image seems like a luxurious European room.

This is definitely not my room.

Where is this place? It looks like I’ve been in bed.

The pajamas on my body feel light and smooth. Somehow, they’re silky. Isn’t this real silk? Are you serious?! I’ll be in trouble if I tear it. It’ll be bad if the clothes get dirty. What should I do if it’s too expensive for me to compensate?

I try climbing down the bed, paying close attention to not ruin such wallet-breaking pajamas.

There are slippers prepared. These are also meant for a small child. Though not for adults, they fit my feet well.

I have a terrible premonition, acute and staggering. There’s a full-length mirror on the wall by the closet. Swallowing, I spring up and head for the mirror. A piece of cloth drapes over the surface. I stand before it.

While holding down my heart, which is about to leap out of my chest, I grasp the edge of the cloth, dragging it down.

There.

A young boy stands before me.

He has slightly wavy and silver hair. His eyes are ice blue, skin the palest shade of white. Freckles are scattered freely. His cheeks are rounded like a kid’s and his limbs are thin. His silvery lashes are long for a boy’s.

The ends of his eyebrows and the corners of his eyes give off a slightly brazen aura, quirking upward. He’s standing.

He’s not Japanese; he’s a child of a foreigner. His expression turns awfully pale.

“W-who is this…?”

This isn’t me. Why did I become a brat? And a foreigner’s, no less.

Someone knocks on the door, causing me to jump.

“Young master? Have you gotten up yet?”

“Y-yes?”

After I reply without thought, the door swings open and a pretty woman wearing a maid uniform enters.

“Oh dear. You will catch a cold with so little on. Please change clothes quickly or you will be late for school.”

“Huh?!”

S-school?

I’ve graduated from university. Shouldn’t I be free from school already? I mean, I should be job-hunting now.

“S-school?”

“That is right. Oh dear. Are you still sleeping? Perhaps you’re not feeling well… Young Master, are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine!”

“Is that so? I wonder… Shall I help you change your clothes?”

“N-no! I’m good! I can do it myself!”

Hanging from the wall are jackets, trousers, blouses, and bow ties, all suspended on hangers. They’re meant for kids. Can I change over there?

“Is that so? Then I will inform the masters that you have woken up, young master Lian.” The maid bows with a smile, leaving the room.

Huh?! Y-young master Lian?!

She said Lian just now.

The name seems familiar. Extremely.

That’s right. That’s it.

The second son of the richest lord in the village should have such a name.

Lian Owen.

Huh?!

I’m Lian?

Why is it Lian?!

What is this Lian?!

My name is Osaka Nao! It’s not Lian! This really is the starting village!

Seriously!

“G-goddess? Hey, come on wait! I’ve never heard any of this!” I shout to the sky. “This is impossible! I can’t do this! Send me back to my original world! I told you I’d help if it’s something I can do, but this is absurd! The task is way too hard. Make it easier!”

The room falls silent. The voice of a songbird.

No matter how long I wait, I don’t receive a response. How terrible.

“H-how can I… C-calm down. That’s right, clothes. For now, I need to d-dress up…”

These pajamas make me restless. I prefer cheap, ordinary ones made of cotton. Even when they wear down or get dirty, they’re easier to replace. I’m afraid of wearing the ones made of silk. I feel like people will become furious if I dirty them…

With trembling hands, I retrieve a set of clothes from the hangers.

Who is Lian? What does he do?

He’s the second son of the richest lord in the village.

Ah. That’s it! That!

He’s the leader of the three bullies who tyrannizes the Hero. He meddles with the Hero, who has no relatives and lives in a small orphanage.

Even as a child, the Hero’s specs are out of this world. His intelligence and physical prowess are off the charts. This displeases Lian, causing him to torment the other. He is a child full of jealousy.

He’s basically a plot device that, by having the Hero face him, helps the Hero grow. This character’s role is necessary in order to add color to a dramatic coming-of-age tale.

Although Lian is the first obstacle that the Hero encounters, he is also around for the shortest period of time. He’s no longer mentioned once the Hero leaves the village.

He’s the kind of character where you go, “Oh yeah, wasn’t there a guy like that? What was his name again? I forget. You can’t say he’s a rival, and he only appears at the start, but well, without him the beginning story would be boring, I guess?” That’s the kind of weak role that Lian has.

That I can remember. I recognize this.

But why?

Why am I in this role?!

I have to live as Lian?!

You can’t be serious!

I wonder if I am capable of doing something like this.

I’m not trying to brag, but I suck at acting. When I helped my friend in the theater club, I was thrown out! They told me my talent was in the negatives. Hearing that was crushing! I mean, Goddess, is my explanation not enough?

I am definitely not worthy, you know? Throwing me this task won’t do anyone good. No way. Absolutely not.

A sob leaves my lips.

These child-sized clothes fit me to a T. It’s kind of depressing. How do I tie a bow tie? I’ve never done it before. I wonder if a butterfly knot is sufficient.

Read this at perpetualdaydreams.com

Shoes are aligned neatly and are placed on a tray. Each pair shines bright like diamonds, the polish applied perfectly. They’re all made of leather. Wow, so high class.

How much do these shoes cost? I’m scared of putting them on. Again, I’ll have to be careful not to dirty them.

“Ah!”

I recall another thing. And then the blood is drawn back from my face.

This is the starting village.

The starting village is where “that” happens. It’s gonna happen here. It’s really gonna happen here!

Not good.

My body trembles.

This is bad.

This is really bad.

This village is no good. I can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.

Though I want to escape, though I have every urge to run away, I cannot.

It’s impossible now.

This is the starting village.

Once the Hero celebrates his eighteenth birthday, the country with the most ambition out of three will summon the demon king. After receiving the magic of the demon king, magical beasts from all around storm the village.

And this place will be destroyed.

Lian also loses his life to that tragic event. Because of this, Lian’s role in the story is tied to the starting village.

This event will be known as the Disaster of Lieis Village. Later, minstrels will speak of this story.

That’s right. Since Lian is practically an eternal mob existence, his treatment is also that of a cannon fodder.

I think he is even left literally fallen down by the wayside.

In the game, his only dialogue consists of a variation of “I never thought monsters would attack.” If you attempt to speak with him again, you’re given a “…” that signifies he died.　

His life was over just like that.

I refuse.

Stop joking.

I, I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to be killed. I don’t want to feel pain.

I don’t want to die in this confusing world I was thrown into. I’m sorry, Goddess, but I’ll act the way I want.

Here is the starting village. I am Lian.

I see. I understand my role and the tasks that the Goddess bestowed upon me. However, I rather not understand it.

My job is to guide the main character—who will soon become the Hero—during his time in the first village, so that he will have a splendid start. Lian’s purpose, as written, is to nurture the Hero through his childhood.

So that in the future, the Hero will be able to steamroll his enemies during his journey.

Isn’t that right, Goddess?

I want you to return here and explain everything to me. I’m begging you.

I understand what must be done, but not how. What should I do?

Anyway, I must survive that disastrous night. I don’t want to be killed by magical beasts. Too scary. No way.

If I die in this world, what happens then?

Hah! 　

Perhaps I’ll return to my own world?

Please, let that be it. I’m begging you.

Because we’re helping each other out here, right? Right?

But that goddess is so absent-minded… It makes me so anxious. I just can’t trust her.

For now, let’s organize my thoughts.

First, I refuse to be slain by demonic beasts.

Also, I don’t want to see the villagers killed in front of me. Even in the game, the event was too disturbing and hard for me to swallow. Corpses and blood spatter were scattered throughout the village. I don’t want to experience such a heavy scene for real.

All I know is that the future must be changed.

I don’t know how to influence things so that that can happen. But I don’t want to die.

That’s right. For now, I’ll do what I’m able to bit by bit. There’s no way I can accomplish everything at once, since currently I’m still a brat.

It’s fine to take it step by step. Day by day.

There’s still plenty of time. That’s right, the main character! What should I do with the future Hero?

Heroes are no good unless raised well. Otherwise, there will be no one to defeat the demon king.

Besides, after the future Hero is trained and disciplined, he’ll become strong and crush the crowds of monsters charging the village. And he’ll rescue everyone.

It’s wishful thinking, but it’s better than nothing.

Alright. I’ve decided. Or rather, I’m compelled to accomplish this. There is no other choice.

I’m determined.

Before the main character reaches his eighteenth birthday, I will nurture him and his strength.