322 The Boy Who Was Supposed to Be a Supporting Character
My impression of Yamada-kun is ordinary.
In the memory of Wakaba-hime, and in this life's memory as well.
In the memory of Wakaba-hime, Yamada-kun was an ordinary boy, one found anywhere.
Academic performance, average.
Athletic ability, moderate.
Appearance, unremarkable.
A male student who embodied ordinariness to the point of lacking any distinguishing trait.
If this were a modern story, he would be a background extra, barely visible.
That was Yamada-kun.
Now, as for Yamada-kun in this life—his transformation is so extreme it seems the ordinary man from his previous life has vanished entirely.
Prince of a great nation.
Biological younger brother of the Hero.
Born with a naturally gifted talent—yet never complacent, consistently diligent in effort.
Thanks to this, even without the title of Hero, he is among the strongest among the human race in this world.
And yet, he shows intent to stand as a Hero for the world, taking the place of his deceased elder brother.
One might want to retort, “Which protagonist is this?”
But Yamada-kun’s essence remains unchanged.
Yamada-kun is, in every way, ordinary—neither good nor bad, just ordinary.
He was never meant to be the central figure in such a grand stage.
He would have been better suited to live quietly, on the periphery.
Not a prince of a great nation, nor a Hero’s younger brother, nor blessed with a cheat ability.
Had he been born merely as a commoner in this world, Yamada-kun would have lived as an ordinary citizen, never meddling in incidents or accidents.
Yet, Yamada-kun became the protagonist—due to his circumstances.
He was a prince of a great nation.
That might have been manageable.
But the position Yamada-kun occupied was extremely delicate.
The child of a secondary consort.
Yet, his elder brother was a Hero.
The First Prince was not exceptional.
Yamada-kun himself was a reincarnated soul.
From childhood, he displayed remarkable aptitude—effectively classified as a prodigy.
From that point onward, the narrative unfolded like a well-crafted fiction.
His excessive excellence might have prompted factions to bypass the First Prince, the son of the queen, in favor of elevating Yamada-kun as the next ruler.
The queen, fearing this outcome, denied Yamada-kun formal education.
Yet, the half-elf caretaker and the muscular maid assumed the role of educators. Yamada-kun, being a reincarnated soul, understood his status as a prince. He mimicked the behavior with sufficient accuracy—his misfortune.
Contrary to the queen’s intentions, Yamada-kun became the acknowledged prodigy.
Moreover, the lack of education proves counterproductive—additional drawback included.
The prince over there—despite receiving little formal education—understands things at a level beyond ordinary people.
She may not understand it herself, but to an outsider, it must have seemed eerie.
Possessed a powerful protector in the form of the hero's elder brother, hailed as a prodigy.
The First Prince's agitation is unavoidable.
Even if Yamada-kun himself had no intention of it, the circumstances around him pushed it forward.
Yamada-kun himself had not received proper education, struggling through hardship—there was no room for anything else.
Yes, Yamada-kun did not understand the situation he had been placed in.
A true genius would have noticed by now and taken measures accordingly.
She should have questioned the lack of proper education. She could not have been unaware of the unstable state within the royal family.
That is why Yamada-kun is ordinary.
A mere high school student could not possibly understand the customs of another world or its political dynamics.
Yamada-kun was treated as a genius only because of accumulated experience from a previous life, and because that experience was leveraged to build further foundations from infancy.
He was not a genius.
Only precocious.
And, unfortunately for Yamada-kun, a true genius existed nearby.
His younger sister.
She absorbed everything taught to her as if water soaked into cotton—immediately, effortlessly.
As a reincarnated being with accumulated past-life experience, Yamada-kun felt compelled to rise, lest he fall behind.
The merely precocious Yamada-kun began to exert effort.
To those around him, a genius born of effort had emerged.
And yet, despite remaining unable to receive formal education, he persisted with relentless effort, enrolled in the academy, and forged his own connections.
Oda-kun, daughter of a duke.
Hagata-san, next candidate for the Saintess of the Divine Word Faith.
The elven instructor.
Yasumi-kun, heir to the Imperial Sword Emperor, a rival—yet Yamada-kun maintained a one-step lead.
Centered among such an exceptional assembly.
All eyes turned to Yamada-kun.
Yet Yamada-kun himself remained unchanged.
Perhaps he recognized, deep within, that he was ordinary.
An ordinary self could never become king.
Supporting the hero’s elder brother—this was the role suited to a background character.
Even that might have felt excessive, perhaps.
Yamada-kun, for reasons unknown, became the hero. And because he possessed an absurd skill like divine favor, he came to be watched with suspicion, ensnared in this depth.
Had he not been born a prince of the kingdom, had he not been a reincarnated soul, had he not had a prodigious younger sister, had he not been the younger brother of the hero, had he not become the hero himself, had he not awaited divine favor—
if even one of these conditions had been missing, Yamada-kun would not have become the protagonist.
He would not have suffered this much.
Yet Yamada-kun had one thing that was not ordinary.
That was his sense of responsibility.
As a prince of the kingdom, as the brother of the hero, as the elder brother of his sister—so as not to bring shame.
It was because of that sense of responsibility that the ordinary Yamada-kun had been able to strive so persistently until now.
So as not to be ashamed of his position.
Therefore, after becoming the hero, he likely continued acting with that same principle in mind: not to be ashamed as a hero.
And now, Yamada-kun acts as an elder brother, fulfilling that responsibility.
"I can't let Suu kill me. I don't believe that would help Suu."
Looking directly into his sister's eyes, Yamada-kun speaks.
His sister cannot look away. She remains frozen.
"I can't fulfill Suu's wishes. But I can stay by her side. As her elder brother. Is that not enough?"
...That was rather blunt.
"Brother-sama, I... I..."
"The past cannot be changed. But we are alive in the present. And we can think about the future. So, can you think about it? A future where we live together?"
...Wait?
One moment blunt, the next moment sounding like a confession?
This could easily be misunderstood by the sister, couldn't it?
"Y-yes."
Yeah.
The younger sister, face flushed crimson.
The older brother, expression unreadable.
This feels less like avoiding a confrontation and more like postponing a battlefield. Still—oh well.