The Accidental Rise of a Retired Hero

Kaito sat on the edge of his porch, watching as the village continued to expand. Houses were springing up like mushrooms after rain, the sounds of construction and laughter echoing through the trees. It was all so... much. Every time he thought it couldn't get bigger, something new appeared. Just this morning, someone had started a bakery in the center of town, and already the scent of fresh bread wafted into the air, mixing with the earthy aroma of the forest.

And to make matters worse, the villagers had finally started calling him something he didn't want to hear.

"Chief!" came a voice, high-pitched and cheerful.

Kaito's eyes twitched. He didn't even need to look up. He could already tell it was the fox girl again.

"I'm not a chief!" Kaito groaned, resting his face in his hands. "I don't want to be a chief! I just wanted to live in peace!"

"Oh, but Kaito, you're the leader!" the fox chirped, bounding up the steps to sit beside him. "Everyone says so! You're the one who made all this happen. The villagers look up to you!"

Kaito groaned in frustration. "I didn't make anything happen. I didn't even want any of this. I just wanted to live in a cottage, have a quiet life, and maybe—just maybe—never have to talk to anyone again."

The fox tilted her head, ears twitching in confusion. "But... you're the one who saved the boar, and you keep bringing mana to the land. The village wouldn't exist without you, Kaito. That makes you the chief!"

Kaito sighed, rubbing his forehead. The words "village chief" felt like nails on a chalkboard. He wasn't a chief. He was a retired hero who just wanted to live out his days in peace. And now, somehow, he was the center of an ever-growing village of humanoid animals, magical creatures, and an ever-growing population that was starting to look suspiciously like a small kingdom.

"I don't even know how to lead anything," he muttered.

"Well, you don't need to do anything big!" the fox said brightly. "Just make decisions and look important. We have a council for the rest. You just need to approve the ideas!"

The words "approve the ideas" bounced around in Kaito's head like a hammer against metal. The villagers had already started bringing him ideas—mostly requests for new houses, farms, and more recently, suggestions for a 'public square' in honor of him.

The public square. He couldn't even comprehend it. Was this seriously happening? Was this how quickly he'd gone from "retired hero" to "honorary god of this ever-growing village"?

Kaito stood up, looking around at the bustling activity. "This is all a mistake," he muttered. "I don't even know what I'm doing."

The fox girl stood up and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Kaito. You're doing great! Everyone's happy here. Everyone's got a place, and that's thanks to you!"

At that exact moment, the bear-man approached, walking alongside a group of other villagers. One of them was a raccoon, carrying a stack of new wood beams, and the other was a rabbit who was knitting what appeared to be a flag.

"Ah, Chief!" the bear-man boomed, clapping Kaito on the back so hard that Kaito almost stumbled forward. "We have a new proposal for the village. We're thinking of expanding the fishing area and creating a new pier. What do you think?"

Kaito shot a panicked look at the fox, who beamed at him like he was a great king being presented with tributes. "I—uh—no! No fishing area! No pier! No more anything! I didn't ask for any of this!" He waved his hands wildly.

The raccoon glanced nervously between Kaito and the fox, clearly unsure whether to back down. The rabbit, however, seemed unfazed, and continued knitting what looked like a ceremonial flag for... Kaito's village.

"Look," Kaito continued, attempting to regain some semblance of control, "I appreciate the enthusiasm. I really do. But I don't want to run a village. I didn't want any of this! I just want to... to sit and relax and not deal with anything."

The fox beamed and nodded. "But that's the thing, Kaito. You're the one who gave us the chance to do all this. You're the one who made us believe we could build a place like this!"

Kaito stared at her, unsure of how to respond. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. I didn't... I didn't do this on purpose!"

"Oh, but we all think it's wonderful!" the rabbit said, smiling brightly. "We're all here because of you, Chief!"

Kaito stood there for a long moment, feeling the weight of their expectations pressing down on him. Chief. The word felt like a heavy cloak draped over his shoulders.

"I didn't sign up for this," he muttered, half to himself.

The bear-man patted him on the back again. "No need to sign up, Chief. You're born for it."

Kaito's face twisted in frustration. "Born for it? What does that even mean?! I was literally exiled to a cursed forest, and now I'm the head of a village I didn't ask for!"

The fox girl and the others watched in silent confusion as Kaito threw his hands up. "Alright, alright. Fine. I'll figure this out. But we are not building any more things! No more farms, no more houses, no more anything. You're all just going to have to deal with what we have right now."

"But Chief, what about the new farm proposal?" the bear-man asked, looking disappointed.

Kaito's head throbbed. "No. No farms. No new houses. No... I don't know... public monuments to me. We're stopping this growth. Now."

There was a long silence. The villagers exchanged unsure glances, and then the raccoon spoke up again, tentatively.

"Well, if you say so, Chief. But we still think you're the one who's going to lead us to even greater things."

Kaito let out a deep, resigned sigh. "Yeah, well... I didn't want to lead anything."

As the villagers started to disperse, Kaito leaned against his cottage, exhausted. His peaceful retirement was slipping further and further away, and the harder he tried to fight it, the more the village seemed to grow.

Chief, he thought bitterly. I'm the Chief of a village I didn't want.

His life had become one long series of accidental decisions. And now, it seemed like there was no turning back.