The Witch and Her Companion: I'm Just a Normal High School Student, but I Became the Familiar of the Highest-Ranked Witch. Also, It Seems I'm the Only Guy in the Witch Organization I Joined

Chapter 101: Rachel and Bumblebee

[Rachel Poker]

—From what I’d heard, she was supposed to be in the “Beast Wilderness.” When I arrived at the destination using the map I was given, she was indeed there, but calling this place a wilderness feels off with all the dazzling greenery.

The green spreads out from a massive crater where she’s at, with taller grass and trees thriving closer to the center.

I pushed through dew-soaked grass, heading toward the crater’s heart.

“—Morning, Bumblebee… You’ve been gone three days, and everyone’s worried.”

Bumblebee was sitting, leaning against a large rock at the crater’s center. She probably noticed me approaching but didn’t bother looking my way.

“…Leave me alone.”

Bumblebee’s voice was hoarse, likely from not speaking in a while.

“Can’t do that. If I don’t come get you, you’ll never come back.”

“…It’s not Ibis today?”

“Ibis is busy, even if she doesn’t look it… What, you got a problem with me?”

Normally, it’s Ibis’s job to fetch Bumblebee, who keeps sneaking out of the castle to sit here. Today, Ibis was tied up, so the task fell to me.

“…Whatever, doesn’t matter.”

Bumblebee wobbled to her feet, brushed past me, and started climbing the crater’s slope. Talk about doing whatever she wants, big sis.

“I know it’s pointless to say, but stop sneaking out of the castle, okay?”

“…“

＊　＊　＊

Since the first day I went to drag Bumblebee back, Ibis officially made me the “fetcher.” Bumblebee snuck out three more times after that, and I went to get her each time.

—And today makes the fourth.

“…Every single time, you just sit there. Is that really fun?”

“…I’m not here for fun.”

Since joining Ravens, I’d barely spoken to Bumblebee. But since becoming the fetcher, we’ve talked a bit here. Well, “talk” is generous—more like, “You snuck out again?” or “Let’s go back already,” that kind of thing.

“I’m not talking about you, Bumblebee. I’m asking if the witch there is having fun.”

“…What?”

This was the first time Bumblebee reacted strongly to my words. It was also the first time she actually looked at me.

“You sneak out to see her, right? But every time you come all the way here, you just sit there. She’s probably bored.”

“…You’re still calling it a person?”

“…Huh? Oh, well, not a person exactly… a witch, right? Or not?”

According to Ibis, Bumblebee keeps coming here to see her. The giant rock next to Bumblebee… no, the petrified magical beast she’s visiting.

“…She’s my savior. She’s still alive.”

Bumblebee said that, gently stroking the petrified beast with the fingertips of her one arm. It was a simple gesture, but I felt an astonishing tenderness in it.

“Yeah, Ibis told me. You’re pouring your Od into her so she doesn’t take in more Mana and collapse, right? That’s why you keep coming back.”

A magical beast—the end result of a witch gone berserk. A monster born from absorbing too much Mana, the energy in the atmosphere, unlike the Od we witches naturally wield. Their body twists into a grotesque form, they lose their sense of self, and they wreak havoc until their body, unable to handle the Mana, collapses.

Once a witch becomes a magical beast, they can never return to normal. All that awaits is certain death… Or so Ibis says, anyway.

“…You don’t laugh, thinking it’s pointless?”

Bumblebee said that with a self-deprecating tone. Apparently, she used magic to petrify this beast alive just before its body would’ve collapsed.

Even petrified, the beast slowly continues to absorb Mana. To prevent further collapse, Bumblebee pours her own Od into it, filling its magical capacity to keep it stable.

By the time I joined Ravens, Bumblebee was already coming to this place regularly. I only recently learned it was a solitary act of life-prolonging treatment, but as far as I know, this is her sixth year doing it.

“I’m not laughing. I wouldn’t laugh at someone who’s trying so hard.”

Ibis said it too, but there’s no guarantee this will ever turn the beast back into a witch. Some say it’d be kinder to let her die, and I get that sentiment.

But Bumblebee has been coming here for years, believing with all her heart that this petrified beast will return to normal one day.

Believing in something unconditionally takes incredible resolve. This person must be that important to Bumblebee. It’s probably something she needs to do to keep going herself.

“…“

“But, Bumblebee, you should smile more. Don’t just pour magic into her—share some fun stories, show her your smile.”

“…Don’t ask for the impossible.”

Unusually, Bumblebee stood up before I had to prod her. Looks like she’s ready to head back. I walk beside her, climbing the slope.

“Next time you come here, invite me, okay? I’m gonna follow you anyway, so we might as well go together, right?”

I wasn’t expecting a reply, but after a pause, Bumblebee muttered under her breath.

“…Weird kid.”

＊　＊　＊

It’s been four years since I started coming to the “Beast Forest” with Bumblebee—

“Beast Forest” is just what I call it, but the name “Beast Wilderness” was probably something someone made up on a whim anyway. So, why not call it whatever I want? That’s my logic.

I mean, who wants to say, “I’m off to the Wilderness!” when they head out?

“—Still, in just four years, this place totally feels like a forest. The saplings from when I first came here are already huge trees.”

I looked up at a tree so tall it blocked the sunlight. Normally, it’d take decades for a tree to grow this big.

“…There are legends everywhere about beast remains bringing fertility to the land. Maybe they weren’t just legends.”

“Really? I’ve never heard that.”

“They say a long time ago, a huge beast was chased into a desert and killed. An oasis formed there, and later a whole country sprang up. That’s one story.”

It sounds like a classic fairy tale, but hearing it in this forest makes it hard to dismiss. This place really did turn from a wilderness to a forest in just four or five years.

“Huh, Bumblebee’s pretty knowledgeable, huh?”

“Or maybe you just don’t know enough?”

“Well, I know you were way quieter four years ago.”

“…I’m done talking to you.”

“Oh, come on, I’m kidding!”

The forest isn’t the only thing that’s changed in these four years. Bumblebee and I can joke around now, and following Taurus and the others, we’ve gained a few new little sisters.

Ravens, which I joined to avenge my family, has somehow become my new family.

Will we still be a family like this a hundred years from now? By then, Bumblebee’s probably going to be a much friendlier big sister—