“Do you have nothing better to do?” Kalaman asked.

“No, I don’t. You don’t either, right?” Nentonia replied.

Without saying anything, Nentonia had suddenly decided to follow Kalaman around while he was patrolling around the ship. He thought that she’d leave after a few minutes, but it’s already been half an hour.

“Why are you following me?”

“Well, I can’t find Rem anywhere, and Jarvarax and Armei aren’t very talkative. Well, at least to me. I’ve been quite bored, lately.”

“You won’t find any entertainment in me, so stop following me.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” she smiled cheekily.

Kalaman sighed. “What the hell do you find so entertaining about me, then?”

“Your reactions. You’re like a tiny puppy, aggressively barking at anyone who tries to come near. Won’t you get lonely?”

“Won’t you shut the fuck up?”

Nentonia laughed. “See what I mean?”

Realizing that nothing he said would make her go away, he simply kept quiet and continued walking. In turn, she kept following in silence. Ten more minutes passed. She was still following.

“You’re still following even though I’m not giving you any ‘reactions’?”

Kalaman turned to look at her, only to see her smiling at him, as if saying “there’s the reaction”.

“...I’m regretting inviting you to this party.”

“Oh? Speaking of, why did you invite me?”

Kalaman thought about that for a while now. It was strange. There was nothing for him to gain by doing that, and yet he did. All he knew was that there was something that only Nentonia could give him. He didn’t know what it was, but his gut rarely ever failed him.

“...You know, you have a bad habit of not saying anything when someone asks you a question.”

“Do I need to answer everything?”

Nentonia chuckled. “No. Just thought I’d point it out. But you probably already know how rotten you are inside without me telling you, right?”

Kalaman scoffed and kept walking. The silence continued for a few more minutes. Compounded by the fact that the ship was nigh deserted with how few crewmembers there were, it made their footsteps sound louder than usual.

“This ship sure is quiet.” Nentonia seemed to have the same thought.

“Nahar probably didn’t want to waste any money to hire more crewmembers. Doubt he’d want to, anyways.”

“Hmm. Oh, speaking of the captain, I actually talked with him a few days back. Quite the talkative fellow.”

“Why don’t you go annoy him instead of me, then?”

“Because talking with him just made me more interested in you,” she said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, when I asked him about you, he began talking about all sorts of things.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Kalaman stopped in his tracks and turned around. “What?”

“Yep! I knew you were lying to me. You really do have a lot of interesting stories to tell.”

“...He told you about me?”

“Well, ‘as much as he was allowed to’, whatever that meant.”

He remembered why he hated Nahar in the first place. That bastard could never shut up when it didn’t concern him, which earned him many enemies, including Kalaman himself.

“Why?”

“You and Rem wouldn’t spill, so I had to find other methods.” She smiled calmly. “He said you became the ‘Dragonslayer’ after you killed a dragon all by yourself. That’s a story I would’ve loved for you to tell me.”

“Forget it.” Kalaman continued walking, but Nentonia didn’t stop even as she followed him.

“He said that you were part of another party at that time, but you were the only survivor.”

“...”

“The dragon cornered you and your party into a small cave, where it proceeded to slaughter everyone except you. It killed everyone else, but you managed to get revenge. That’s impressive.”

“Are you done yet?”

“No. I want to hear it from you, firsthand. Rem told me that stories often get exaggerated, so I’ve been wondering about that. Was that what really happened? I find it quite strange. You’re strong enough to kill a dragon, but not strong enough to save your party. Did you use them as bait—?”

Kalaman turned around and grabbed Nentonia by the neck, slamming her into the nearby wall so hard it almost cracked. He had to consciously control his strength so he didn’t accidentally snap her neck. A dead teammate would be more trouble than it’s worth.

“I said shut up,” he growled.

Nentonia coughed and wheezed, but made no effort to free herself. Instead, she gave out a strained laugh and smiled at him. “W-was I right? You keep ... distancing yourself from everyone ... Are you afraid of ... urgh ... getting attached to people? Or a-are you guilty of what happened to you l-last ... party...?”

“What do you care?”

“Because ... I don’t think you’re a hero...”

“...What?”

That was the first time someone’s said anything like that to him. He was often lathered with unwanted praise. Even his enemies acknowledge him as a “hero”. The surprise of her comment made him loosen his grip a bit, which allowed Nentonia to breathe a bit more.

“All you’re doing is running away, right?” she continued. “Running away from the pain ... from your past. Y-you won’t be a hero like that, Kalaman. So long as you’re afraid of pain, you won’t be complete.”

“What do you know about me?”

“Not much, to be honest. But I know my way around pain. You don’t have to be ... scared of it.”

She was out of line. There was a limit to how intrusive you could be. He just wanted to be left alone, and here she was, barging in like she owned the place.

Yet, his grip loosened even more, and he released her. Nentonia fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. After a few seconds, she looked back up at him, her face entirely flushed red.

Nentonia giggled. “Your reactions ... really are cute...”

“What the hell are you after, exactly?” Kalaman asked.

She stood up, leaning herself against the wall for support. “I was really excited to finally be friends with a hero, but as it turns out, he wasn’t like I expected. I guess I just wanted to poke around a bit, maybe see what makes you tick. And I was bored, too, so it was a perfect opportunity.”

“Tch. You’re wasting your time.” Kalaman continued his walk as if nothing happened. “And we’re not friends.”

“I wonder about that,” she replied, still following him. “I think you’re my only friend around here.”

“What about the halfling?”

“She’s great, and I do like her. But, as it stands, I can only be myself when I’m around you.”

“Why?” He looked at her.

“We have quite a lot of things in common. I’m rotten and incomplete, too.”

Rotten and incomplete. She described Kalaman like that, too. What did she mean by those words, exactly?

“...How so?”

“Oh? Now you want to know about me? That’s unfair, sir Kampus.”

“Just answer the question.”

Nentonia took a minute to think. Her strut was more playful than before, as if she was having fun, even though her neck was still bruised red.

“I guess it’s because I’m afraid, too.”

“Of pain?”

“Kind of? ... Well, no. I’m more afraid of accepting it. Unless we can embrace our pains, we will never be whole. We’ll stay rotten, and decompose inside our shells. It would be a gnarly way to live life, wouldn’t it?”

Kalaman’s mind flashed back to that cave. In a way, Nentonia was right. He’d been running away from that cave. He just kept running, because he knew that some part of him was still there, unable to leave, and he didn’t know what would happen to him if he touched that part of himself.

If he was whole ... if he was complete ... would it quell the silence that followed him out of that cave?

Maybe. Maybe not.

But he felt that if Nentonia was here, then he’d be completed either way.

“By the way, you’ve got a great grip, Kalaman! I really felt that, you know? It still hurts to breath or talk. I don’t think I’ll be able to move my neck for a few days. You could definitely snap me like a twig...”

“Shut up or I definitely will.”

She was still annoying to be around, though.