Chapter 72
*
At the same time.
Right after the prince and I finished our call.
Even after the light in the communication orb went out, I kept staring at the crystal orb for a while.
'I've got a mountain of work.'
Right after the prince proposed the professorship.
I accepted the offer without hesitation.
Because of fame and power?
Of course, that was part of the reason.
But the biggest reason was that I was tempted by the title of 'professor.'
Professor.
How sweet that sounded.
In my previous life, I had dreamed of becoming a professor.
It wasn't as if I had some grand ambition in mind.
Surgery makes it hard to open a private practice once you leave a university hospital, so I just stayed at the school.
Before I knew it, I had earned a double board certification and was even taking advanced trauma surgery training.
I'd studied that hard, so I figured I'd be bitter if I couldn't even get the title of professor.
'Dying from overwork? At thirty-something?'
Looks like I pushed myself a little too hard.
I collapsed right there, within reach if I had just stretched out my hand.
Of course, that regret was nearly twenty years old.
In this life, I don't especially cling to that title.
But,
— “Then where am I supposed to train?”
— “What do you mean?”
— “To become a professor, don’t I first have to train under another professor?”
— “Is that what you meant? You’ll be the first professor of this course, so who exactly are you planning to train under?”
The moment I heard that from the prince, I accepted the professorship as if enchanted.
A professor, no less!
And straight to it, skipping graduate school and residency!
Anyone who’s been through grad school would have to sympathize with my choice.
To skip all that hellish suffering and go straight to the rewards.
There would be plenty of people willing to pick up a poisoned chalice even knowing what it was.
I was one of them.
Of course, I had other calculations as well.
'Even if I refuse, they'll just put a leash on me later anyway.'
Classic misunderstanding-story trope.
No matter how hard you wriggle and try to escape, you always end up being collared in the end.
So if I was going to be dragged in anyway, it seemed better to walk there on my own two feet; it looked better and I'd be treated better too.
After all, volunteers are usually treated better than conscripts.
There was just one thing that bothered me.
'Tsk... a class on defense against black magic.'
The name bothered me a lot.
If possible, I wished it had a different name, like a class on dealing with black magic.
For some reason, it sounded like the kind of class where the professor in charge would be changed after some ugly incident before even a year was up.
So I hinted as much to the prince.
But it didn't look like he had any intention of changing it.
'What can I do? I'll just have to prepare thoroughly.'
The prince did assure me that he'd use everything at his disposal to protect me and those around me.
Still, you can never prepare too much.
'For now... maybe I should talk it over with my master tomorrow.'
Tomorrow was already the day I was set to meet my master.
It seemed like there were a lot of things I needed to discuss about this.
If it's my master's wisdom, hidden away in secrecy for a thousand years, it would probably help in many ways.
I opened the notebook on my desk.
I picked up my fountain pen and began organizing the points to discuss with my master tomorrow.
I was in the middle of organizing what to discuss.
Knock, knock.
My hand stopped at the sound of knocking.
I set down my fountain pen and looked toward the door.
“Who is it? Eri?”
At this hour, she was the most likely one to come looking.
She sometimes came by asking me to make her a late-night snack.
…
But the silence beyond the door told me it wasn't Eri.
Soon, a thin voice came from the other side.
“...Big brother. I can’t sleep. Could I talk to you for a bit?”
I opened the door.
Under the faint light of the hallway lanterns, Freya stood there.
She was in her pajamas, barefoot, with only a pair of slippers on.
Her hair was tousled, as if she'd tossed and turned under the covers for ages before finally giving up and coming out.
“Th...thank you.”
She said that while quickly scanning the area behind me.
Her fingers were clutching the hem of her pajamas so tightly they had gone white.
The moment I saw that, a sigh rose up to my throat.
'It's an acute stress reaction.'
Even though she hadn't said it, I'd already noticed it in her daily behavior.
Since arriving home yesterday.
She'd been tense, as if she were still there.
She also showed a bit of depression, and jumped at the slightest sound.
And now, sleep disturbance too.
It was a textbook acute stress reaction.
You could think of it as something similar to PTSD.
It's one psychiatric condition I can diagnose almost as well as a psychiatry professor, despite not being well-versed in psychiatry.
Because PTSD is a common symptom among trauma surgery patients and their guardians.
I'd had to request consults from this department far too many times.
However, Freya wasn't at PTSD yet—she was in the stage before that.
A stage that improves with a little rest.
If it lasts longer, acute stress reaction becomes an acute stress disorder, and if it continues for more than a month, then it becomes PTSD.
Naturally, I had no intention of letting my little sister get that far.
“Can’t you sleep?”
“No...”
“Come in.”
I'd seen many patients like this.
I'd also grown accustomed to helping them so they wouldn't worsen into PTSD.
Should I call that fortunate?
Patients in this state could recover quickly with just a bit of psychological first aid.
'Thankfully, Freya came to me first.'
Then I had no choice but to help keep her from getting worse.
First, their bodies are still lingering in that place.
So I lowered my voice and made my movements as slow as possible.
Loud noises, sudden movements, unexpected contact.
Those sudden stimuli can trigger hyperarousal in these patients.
What matters most here is giving their brains time to accept that this place is safe.
Freya crossed the threshold.
Even after stepping cautiously into my room, she didn't lean back when she sat in the chair.
That was another typical symptom.
I had her sit in the chair near the door.
“It’s a little warm in here.”
I don't close the door.
Small considerations like this give them the reassurance that they can escape at any time.
“Would you like some tea?”
“...Yes, please.”
Again, sudden stimulation is out of the question.
You even have to ask permission for things that are perfectly ordinary.
It's to help her adjust to this space.
‘Tea...’
Chamomile tea with linden honey would be good.
It helps calm an overactive sympathetic nervous system.
It wasn't a miracle cure, but it was far better than nothing.
I got up and brewed flower tea into two teacups.
“It’s hot, so take it slowly.”
I placed the teacup in Freya's hand.
She gripped the cup with trembling hands.
Quietly, I waited for her to speak first.
I didn't even ask, 'What's wrong?'
Even a question like that can be dangerous for a patient.
It can accidentally shove them back into the past.
All you can do is wait for them to bring that past up on their own.
I waited until Freya's breaths grew long and steady.
At last, she opened her mouth on her own.
“...When I close my eyes, I go back there.”
…
“My friends... the friends who trusted me and followed me—I keep seeing them being hurt by those people.”
A textbook flashback, a recollection of the past.
It was a natural reaction.
Ordinary protagonists can go through something that big and shake it off easily.
I was able to shrug it off fairly well right after the clinic was attacked, too.
But that isn't normal.
If anything, Freya's reaction was completely normal.
A kidnapping at the age of seventeen.
There aren't many girls who can stay composed after something that huge.
Especially not unless she's a girl like Eri, who grew up living a rough life from a young age.
What matters in times like these are three things.
Even these simple initial measures can shape the rest of a person's life.
“...Big brother.”
“Mm?”
“Did everyone worry because of me? I kept wondering whether I made you and Mother and Father worry by going off to look for my friends.”
“It just means we love you that much. We're fine. So if it's too hard, you can tell Mother and Father. If that feels burdensome, tell me.”
One is to let her know that there are people around her who love her and can be trusted.
Simply offering a variety of choices can make the patient feel they have control and put them at ease.
“But I'm scared those people will show up again...”
“Like I said, they won't be able to threaten you again. Father said so too. And I'll guarantee it as well.”
Second, keep reminding her that this place is safe.
“Still, Cal got hurt. It was because I told us to leave the prison for nothing... If I had just stayed put, you and my sister would have come to rescue me anyway.”
“Freya.”
And third, most importantly,
“If you hadn't moved that day, we would have had to search every inch of that hideout to find you. And if you hadn't resisted, your friends would have been in even greater danger.”
…
“That wasn't your fault. If anything, you were the one who saved your friends.”
Keep emphasizing, over and over, that it wasn't their fault.
This part is the most important.
Because the thing that breaks people the most in PTSD is guilt.
So I said to Freya,
“You know, Freya? I once dreamed of becoming a hero.”
…
Though I walked the path of a doctor, I sometimes admired paramedics and firefighters.
There was one reason.
“A doctor—no, a healer—is a job where you can only do something after someone gets hurt. By the time a doctor acts, the outcome has already been decided. All I can do is keep it from becoming the worst-case scenario.”
Freya listened, holding her breath.
“But the world needs people who move before anyone gets hurt, before things become catastrophic.”
That's why I admired paramedics and firefighters.
They're the ones who save people before they're hurt, or before things get so bad they can't be reversed.
In fact, I thought their contribution to saving lives was greater than mine.
Of course.
It probably sounds a little too easy for me to say that about jobs I haven't actually done.
What I'm trying to say is that doctors aren't the only ones who contribute to saving a life.
“If it hadn't been for you, I might have been too late even if I arrived. You and the other students too. Each of you helped the others, and that's how we got the best possible outcome. I just piggybacked on your efforts.”
…
“Freya. I am truly proud of you. Your courage saved your friends.”
I clearly remember the sight of Freya facing those two villains when I arrived.
Even though she hadn't pulled out vision magic.
She was clearly protecting the students right there.
So in this incident, I think the MVP was Freya, not me.
“You really did well, Freya.”
For a while, I looked at Freya in silence.
Freya's shoulders shook.
At first, just a little. Then more violently.
And finally, her body shook so hard that she could no longer hold the teacup cupped in both hands.
I quickly took the cup from her and set it on the table.
“...Hic...”
Freya covered her face with both hands.
Silently, I waited until her shoulders stopped shaking.
*
Freya left after the night had grown very deep.
“Thank you, big brother.”
Before leaving the room, Freya looked back and said that.
Yulian saw her off with a wave.
Leaving Yulian's farewell behind, Freya walked down the hallway.
Freya stopped in front of her room.
A faint light was seeping out from under the gap in the door.
A light that was still on.
When she opened the door, a familiar sight greeted Freya.
“Oh, miss.”
Erika was sitting beside Freya's bed on bedding spread out on the floor.
Erika had brought blankets from the annex and taken up half of Freya's bed.
After what she'd gone through, Erika had brought bedding from the annex for Freya, who hadn't been able to sleep yesterday.
“Come on in here, miss.”
Erika lifted the blanket, acting like a sly old man.
It was Erika's own mischievous form of consideration.
Freya gave a snort of laughter and sat facing Erika on the same bed.
Erika said,
“So? Good thing you talked to the teacher, right?”
Freya nodded.
Then she hugged the blanket and said nothing for a while.
Erika didn't rush her either.
The blanket Erika had brought covered both of their shoulders.
Within that warmth, Freya spoke.
“...Big sister.”
“Mm?”
“I, uh... I've found another dream besides becoming a judicial officer.”
Erika's eyebrows rose slightly.
“Suddenly?”
Freya silently looked down at her hands resting on her knees.
Yulian's words replayed in her head.
— A doctor is a job where you can only do something after someone is hurt.
— But the world needs people who move before anyone gets hurt, before situations become the worst.
“A judicial officer... is someone who acts after something has already happened.”
Freya said.
“They only move after there’s already a victim, and until a crime drags on long enough to go cold, they don't even know it exists. By then, it's less about protecting someone and more about punishing the culprit.”
Of course, she wasn't saying that was bad.
It was just that it pointed in a different direction from what Freya wanted.
“I... want to move ahead of that.”
“How?”
“I want to move before irreversible results appear. I want to be someone who acts first and protects people right there on the spot.”
Erika's smile deepened.
“Then what kind of job do you want to do?”
Freya looked at Erika with steadfast eyes.
“I want to become a hero, like you, big sister.”
Hero.
Heroes are righteous people who not only fight the beasts beyond the walls, but also rescue people from evil demons and foil the schemes of dark mages.
“My reason is different from yours, big sister... but still. I want to become a hero too. If not, then even a knight...”
Erika's eyes widened.
One beat.
And then the corners of Erika's lips slowly rose.
Erika kicked off the blanket and sprang to her feet.
“What are you talking about? You more than proved you were qualified to be a hero this time.”
“Huh?”
“You were the first to step forward and find the traces the other adults missed, and you saved your friends. You did it before the teacher and I even arrived. If someone like you isn't qualified to be a hero, then who is?”
Erika gently wrapped her hands around Freya's.
“I'd like having a dependable little sister watching my back too, you know?”
This time, it was Freya's eyes that widened.
“Big sister?”
“For that, you should start by taking care of your health like I do.”
Erika picked up the blanket she'd kicked aside and tucked it back over Freya.
“Let's sleep for now. And starting tomorrow, you'll get up early with me and train together. You need to eat well too.”
“Big sister...”
“Go to sleep now, miss.”
Erika gently laid Freya down on the bed.
Freya lay down without resisting that pressure.
Erika lay down right beside her.
Freya closed her eyes for a moment, then spoke to Erika again.
“Big sister.”
“Mm.”
“How can you be so confident all the time?”
“I'm a genius recognized by the teacher. So there's no need to doubt me.”
“Big sister.”
“Mhm.”
“What did you do when you went through something like this for the first time?”
“Mmm... probably... just ate and went to sleep...”
“Big sister.”
“…Snore...”
…
Freya listened to Erika's faint breathing, then fell silent again.
How could the sister who said she was worried about her little sister be the one to fall asleep first?
But just feeling that warmth beside her brought a hard-to-explain sense of relief.
Freya leaned into that warmth and slowly let go of her tension.
Soon, the room was filled only with the small breaths of the two girls.
That night, Freya sank into a deep sleep.
It was a peaceful night without nightmares.