Valid
Nice to be nice, Dylan Thomas had written in 1954, even better, she had thought, to feel useful. She had graduated several years back, majored in English Literature, worked as intern for Cook, Castonzo, and Carrington in New York for a while before coming home and landing her current job. Now, here she was, wrapped up in an actual adventure story, and the sudden feeling of excitement and acceptance was overwhelming. It was true, she thought, no one had actually invited her to get involved, and yet, still, with patience and kindness, the sad and beautiful woman who presided over this strange new world had solemnly accepted her without question.
When she had been younger, still in middle school, Sudo Mei had gone to the birthday party of another girl, tagging along with a friend because she thought that all were welcome. No one had batted an eyelid at her presence, no one had made her feel unwelcome, and it had only been the Monday after the weekend, once they were all back at school, that she had realised that she had not really been welcome, that it was an invite only affair, and everyone had simply been too polite to tell her otherwise.
She remembered one of the older girls, tall, beautiful in as much as you could be at that age, her hair longer and darker than Mei's, her proud aquiline nose, as she had looked down on her and explained her transgressions, and even now, years and years after middle school, sometimes she still thought of that moment, still worried that she was overstaying her welcome.
She took a deep breath, standing about the central console in the middle of the vast magical library, grasping onto its sides with her hands, trying to remain as silent as possible as the beautiful Sophia stood to her left, and Daishinji Tetsuo, his brow furrowed with concentration as he glared down at the stereovision screen and the analysis of the King of Arthur Wonder Ride Book, stood to her right.
You are valid, she told herself, you deserve to be here, stop doubting yourself.
When first she had become involved in the situation, it had been with a sense of incredulity, a sense of horror that such phantastical things were capable of happening outside of fiction. At first, she had done all she could to document what was happening around her, following Touma and Rintaro and the others into danger, her phone held high, glimpses of half-seen creatures posted to her Insta, the sight of them exciting an initial flurry of comments from weirdos she didn't know, one of whom had claimed to be stranded at the end of the world. She had blocked them all without a second thought, and the more she had posted of what she saw around her, the less anyone seemed to be interested, and the more people seemed to take it for granted. Getting invaded by fairy tale monsters in 2020 seemed the least of anyone's concerns.
Perhaps it wasn't even a 2020 thing, she thought, because sometimes it felt like every year they were getting invaded by some menace or another, and maybe, after the initial excitement—oh, this year it's fairy tales!—people just lost interest. Perhaps that was testament to what Sophia, and Rintaro, and Kento, and all the others had been doing for so long that the significance of the world's constant invasion was something they all were capable of living with, of getting over with only minimal interruption to their daily lives.
When she thought of the Sword of Logos, it filled her with a kind of wonder. She didn't think she could ever be a swordsman like those with whom she now kept company, but seeing how much they gave, how hard they worked, it made her want to try harder too, it made her want to fight by their side, even if she couldn't do it physically.
The light of the stereovision screen before Tetsuo flickered across his features, illuminating lines that would become more prominent the older he grew. We all do what we can, she told herself; we all fight in different ways, and yet we all believe in the same cause, we all believe in challenging evil wherever it might be found.
You are valid, she told herself, still holding onto the table, still watching Tetsuo and Sophia, still waiting for word of Touma. You are valid, she said to herself again, and you are wanted here.