Serena turned over another page of the shift roster lying on the desk.
The edges of the papers lined up neatly.
“Students who don’t attend class.”
Her fingertip moved down to the next line.
“Students who don’t come down to the dining hall.”
This time, it was the dormitory entry log.
“Students whose rooms remain occupied, but who are not in those rooms.”
She covered the papers.
“If I move on these matters, it will stand out.”
“Why would the student council checking which students are missing stand out?”
“Checking itself is not the problem.”
Serena raised her head.
“The fact that I am the one checking is the problem.”
Her words were brief.
I looked down at the papers on the desk.
The duty roster.
The student register.
The dining hall entry records.
The student lists for each subject.
All of them were things within the student council’s reach.
“So you’re telling me you’ll just look at documents, and I’m supposed to run around on foot?”
Serena’s eyes narrowed for a very brief moment.
“I never said I would only look at documents.”
The correction came immediately.
“If I move, the student council’s name follows.”
“If Student Walter moves, it ends as nothing more than one suspicious student wandering around.”
“Is that supposed to be a better assessment?”
“At the moment, yes.”
Lovely.
She had a talent for using people in ways that made them feel unpleasant.
“You only give me things I really don’t want to do.”
“I have never been given anything pleasant either.”
Serena pressed down again on the folded scrap of the student assignment chart.
The red symbol was slightly hidden beneath her finger.
“Instead, don’t go around questioning people openly.”
“Is that another order?”
“If it were an order, I would not have gone this far in explaining.”
I looked toward the door.
The knight’s shadow stretched long beneath it.
“So it’s advice?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds similar.”
“It is different.”
Serena glanced once toward the window.
Through the small window, part of the student council corridor was visible.
An aide passed by carrying a bundle of documents.
“If one student goes around asking about other students’ absences, that in itself draws attention.”
“Then I’ll just start by looking for the empty places inside the school.”
“That phrasing is better.”
Good.
She really was an exhausting person.
I rose from the chair.
The chair leg scraped against the floor.
The presence of the knight outside the door shifted for a moment.
Serena didn’t even look.
“I will not contact Miss Erka von Lumen or Miss Mia separately.”
“Why?”
“Because Student Walter will be faster with them.”
“You’ve got some sense.”
“How rude.”
“It was an evaluation.”
This time, Serena’s eyes narrowed for a very brief moment.
That one landed a little.
I walked toward the door.
“Then you look through the documents.”
With my hand on the doorknob, I said,
“I’ll start looking for the people who disappeared inside the school.”
“Don’t wander around alone.”
“Is that an order, or advice?”
“This time, it is a request.”
My hand stopped.
I looked back at Serena.
Serena did not avoid my gaze.
Only the tips of her fingers resting on the desk had gone slightly stiff.
“You said you didn’t want to lose a useful witness.”
“Yes.”
“That statement is still valid.”
Nice.
She refuses to call it concern until the very end.
“I’ll try.”
“That is what I find hardest to believe.”
“You’re right about that.”
I opened the door and stepped outside.
The knight still had a look on his face that said he didn’t like me.
I’m starting to get used to that face too.
The corridor was busy, as mornings tended to be.
Aides carrying documents hurried past.
Students from noble families walked slowly.
Someone laughed, and someone received a greeting.
On the surface, everything looked perfectly fine.
As I walked through them, I thought about how to find the people who were missing.
Serena would dig through the documents.
I would dig through the school.
Lovely.
I don’t really want to do it, but it’s the sort of thing I’m best at.
The first place was the dining hall.
I had already eaten and left, but I went back.
Not because I was hungry.
When someone is missing from a place where people eat, it shows.
The seats people usually sit in are more or less fixed.
The kids they sit with are more or less fixed too.
If a talkative one isn’t there, the seat beside them goes quiet.
I picked up a cup of water and sat in an empty seat by the window.
Standing around too long would make me stand out more.
Three students from the Sanctuary side were in a corner.
Two were talking in low voices.
One kept looking toward the door.
On the seat beside them, a plate had been left behind.
The soup had gone half cold.
A piece of bread had been torn off and left unfinished too.
Someone had sat there and then left in a hurry.
Rine was nowhere to be seen.
I took a sip of water.
It tasted awful.
When you don’t sleep, even water tastes awful.
Beside the gap of the door, an ear peeked out.
It was Mia.
I told her to go to class, but she came again.
I only lifted my eyes.
Mia asked with the shape of her mouth,
‘Can I sit with you?’
I shook my head very slightly.
Mia’s ears drooped.
Then her gaze immediately went to the seats on the Sanctuary side.
The tip of her nose moved ever so slightly.
Looks like she caught a scent.
I gestured with one finger for her to leave.
Mia pouted.
Still, she left.
Good.
She doesn’t listen, but at least she seems to know she shouldn’t stand out right now.
The second place was a common class.
The professor stood before the blackboard, explaining basic control formulas.
Mana flow.
Circulation.
Stability.
Overload prevention.
Pretty words, really.
Even though hardly anyone lets you rest before the overload comes.
The students took notes.
I picked up a pen too.
I didn’t write anything on the paper.
I looked at the empty seats from the left.
Two.
Four.
Six.
One or two people missing isn’t strange.
Some are sick, some overslept, and some skip class using their noble house as an excuse.
The problem was that the desks were too clean.
They were arranged like seats that had been empty from the start.
Around the middle of class, the door opened carefully.
Rine came in.
There was almost no sound as the door closed.
She held the handle until the very end before letting go.
The professor glanced at her and stopped there.
Rine bowed her head slightly.
Then she sat in an empty seat.
She was smiling.
As always.
Her hand was a little slow as she took out her book.
When she opened the cap of her ink bottle, her fingertips slipped once.
Before the student beside her could look over, Rine smiled first.
“I’m all right.”
No one had asked.
But the words came out first.
Lovely.
When that phrase comes out first, most of the time, they are not all right.
I pretended to look at the blackboard.
My gaze stayed fixed on the back of Rine’s hand.
It was pale.
When class ended, the sound of chairs being dragged back rose all at once.
Rine did not stand up right away.
She closed her book.
Put away her pen.
Closed the cap of the ink bottle.
One by one.
Too neatly.
That is how someone moves when they aren’t feeling well.
They handle things in order because if they stand all at once, they might collapse.
I picked up my bag and stood.
Rine approached first.
“Lord Walter.”
“What?”
“You don’t look well today.”
“I feel like that’s my line.”
Rine smiled.
“I’m all right.”
It came out immediately.
I did not answer.
Rine’s gaze slipped to the side for a very brief moment.
No one else would have noticed.
“Would you sit for a moment?”
“Where?”
“The auxiliary room next door is empty.
I thought you might feel a little better if you had some tea.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Not you?”
Rine smiled again.
“I really am all right.”
That was the second time.
In the end, I nodded.
The auxiliary room was a small room beside the classroom.
Three old chairs.
One small table.
One window.
In the wall cabinet were cloth, a water bottle, and an old tin of tea leaves.
Rine picked up the water bottle with practiced ease.
She took out a cup.
Put in a little tea.
A small light bloomed at her fingertips, then went out.
It wasn’t a flashy spell.
It was a touch that warmed only as much as necessary.
Rine held out the cup.
“It won’t be hot.”
I took the cup.
At that moment, Rine’s fingertips trembled very slightly.
This time, she was too late to hide it.
Perhaps Rine knew that too, because she immediately tucked her hand into her sleeve.
I set the cup down.
“You overdid it.”
Rine did not answer right away.
Two students passed by outside the window.
The sound of laughter drifted in faintly, then disappeared.
“A little.”
For the first time, it wasn’t “I’m all right.”
I did not lean back against the chair.
“How much?”
“Not badly.”
“That doesn’t sound very trustworthy either.”
Rine laughed very quietly.
“Lord Walter, you’re surprisingly persistent.”
I turned the cup with my fingertips.
“You came in late today.”
Rine’s eyes wavered ever so slightly.
“You saw?”
“I did.”
“I was just… a little late.”
“Sanctuary business?”
Rine did not answer immediately.
Too late.
That meant I was half right.
I didn’t press further.
I lifted the cup and took a sip.
It was lukewarm.
The flavor was weak.
But my insides settled a little.
“You didn’t sleep properly either, did you, Lord Walter?”
“Does it show?”
“A lot.”
Too fast.
I swallowed a dry laugh.
“Neither of us is in a good position to comment on the other’s condition.”
“I suppose not.”
Rine smiled.
This smile had a little less strength in it.
The room went quiet for a moment.
Rine spoke first.
“Earlier… it looked like you were looking at the empty seats.”
My hand stopped.
“That showed too?”
“A little.”
“You’re sharp.”
“I end up seeing that kind of thing often.”
“What kind of thing?”
Rine looked down at the teacup.
“When someone is sick but pretending not to be.”
Then she spoke a little lower.
“And when someone is missing.”
I set the cup down on the table.
“Then let me ask you one thing.”
“Yes.”
“Has there been any student who suddenly stopped appearing recently?”
Rine did not answer right away.
Her gaze went toward the door.
I turned slightly in my chair and looked at the gap under it.
There was no shadow.
Rine spoke very quietly.
“There is one.”
“Name?”
“I don’t really know. We weren’t in the same class.”
“You saw them?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Rine brought her fingers together.
The tips of her nails pressed white.
“I saw two Sanctuary aides taking them away.”
“Were they hurt?”
“It didn’t look that way.”
“A stretcher?”
“There wasn’t one.”
“A knight?”
“There wasn’t one either.”
“Where did they go?”
“To the calming room?”
Rine shook her head again.
“No.”
“Then?”
Rine hesitated for a moment.
“They went down the inner staircase.”
The bottom of the cup touched the table with a very small sound.
The inner staircase.
I did not change my expression.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you remember that?”
Rine covered the back of her hand with her sleeve.
“Because it was unusual. There was a red thread tied around their wrist.”
A red thread.
The red symbol I had seen in the storage room came to mind.
Assignment.
On hold.
Recheck before transfer.
I did not say it out loud.
Rine did not need to know.
For now, it was better if she didn’t.
“Why are you telling me this instead of keeping it hidden?”
Rine looked at my face.
“Because I thought you wouldn’t just let it pass, Lord Walter.”
“That’s not a good evaluation.”
“Is it not?”
Rine laughed very softly.
I rose from my seat.
“Rest today.”
“You too, Lord Walter.”
“Not me.”
“When you rest, Lord Walter.”
Neither of us was listening.
Rine reached out to clear the cup.
I grabbed it first.
“Leave it.”
“I’ll do it.”
“With that hand?”
Rine’s hand stopped.
A short silence.
In the end, Rine withdrew her hand.
“If I rest just a little, I’ll be fine.”
“That’s the third time you’ve said that.”
“You counted?”
“Don’t make me count.”
Rine smiled.
This time, it felt a little real.
I washed the cup, set it down beside the water jug, and walked toward the door.
Before opening it, I asked one last question.
“Did you see anything else besides the inner staircase?”
Rine lowered her head slightly.
“Before they went down.”
“Yeah.”
“They looked back once.”
“The student?”
“Yes.”
Rine’s voice grew even lower.
“Their mouth was smiling, but their eyes weren’t.
It felt like they were asking for help…”
I opened the door.
The air in the corridor outside was colder than inside the room.
The inner staircase Rine mentioned was deep within the main building.
Between the Sanctuary auxiliary room and the classroom wing.
Students almost never used it, and professors or aides only passed through there occasionally.
That didn’t mean I could go straight there.
I had to look at the route first.
Who was guarding it.
Who passed by.
Whether the door was really a door, or something else pretending to be one.
When you look alone, you miss things.
Mia is good at catching scents.
And without Erka, I can’t undo a lock.
Annoyingly enough.
As I turned the corner of the hallway, I saw a familiar pair of ears beneath the window frame.
Mia was squatting there.
There was a book open on her knees, but the pages were upside down.
I stopped.
“What are you doing?”
Mia raised her head.
“Studying.”
“You’re holding the book upside down.”
Mia looked down at the book.
Then, as if it were nothing, she turned it around.
“Now it’s fine.”
“What about class?”
“It’s over.”
“Your next class?”
“What about you, senior?”
She fired right back.
I looked at Mia for a moment.
Mia didn’t avoid my eyes.
Only the tip of her tail tapped the floor, tap, tap.
“You were waiting because you knew where I was going?”
“Somewhere bad.”
“That’s way too broad.”
Mia wrinkled her nose slightly.
“Rine’s scent got thinner.”
My steps stopped.
“You just smelled her?”
“Yeah.”
“What was it like?”
Mia glanced once toward the auxiliary room door.
“Medicine smell. Warm tea smell. Tired smell.”
“There’s a tired smell too?”
“There is.”
Mia looked at me.
“You have it too, sen—”
“That’s enough.”
“Okay.”
I looked down the opposite side of the hallway.
“We need to find Erka.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to check the door.”
“I’ll look at the smell.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“You’re still pushing that line?”
“Yeah.”
Short and confident.
Nice.
At this point, I should consider it a stolen catchphrase.
We caught Erka in the hallway leading to the experimental building.
More precisely, we didn’t catch her—we grabbed her as she was passing by.
Erka had a thick notebook tucked under one arm.
In her other hand, she held a small metal box.
The area under her eyes was slightly dark.
The moment she saw me, her expression crumpled.
“No.”
“I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“Most things you come looking for me about are things I don’t like.”
“You’re perceptive.”
“That’s an insult.”
“I’m going to check the inner staircase.”
Erka, who had been about to walk past, stopped.
“What staircase?”
“The one beside the Sanctuary auxiliary room.”
“Why there?”
“They say one student went down that way.”
“What’s the problem with someone going down?”
“With a red thread tied around their wrist.”
Erka’s mouth shut.
She went quiet very quickly.
“Who saw it?”
“Rine.”
Erka frowned.
“Who’s Rine?”
“She exists. The kid who always says she’s fine.”
“That’s your explanation?”
“More or less.”
Erka looked at me as if she couldn’t believe me, then immediately adjusted her grip on the metal box.
“Is that person trustworthy?”
“She’s not the kind of kid who’d lie.”
“And how do you know that?”
“She’s the type to lie and say she’s fine,
not the type to lie to sell someone else out.”
Erka closed her mouth for a moment.
“……That’s a really strange kind of trust.”
“I know.”
“So is that person who says she’s fine actually fine right now?”
“She’s not fine, but she said she was.”
“Ah.”
Erka let out a short breath.
“Then she really must not be fine.”
“We’re only going to check the staircase. We’re not going down.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?”
“Then don’t.”
“Haa.”
Erka pressed a hand to her temple once.
“You want to see if there’s a locking mechanism, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So what’s the red thread?”
Erka asked.
I didn’t answer right away.
The red thread.
In the game, it first appeared like some insignificant prop.
At first, it was only explained as a medical marker.
But once you got to the later story, that changed.
The red thread wasn’t for treatment.
It wasn’t tied on to reassure people, either.
It was a mark left behind to check whether someone had slipped out partway through.
I looked at Erka.
“I don’t know either.”
“You had the face of someone who knew a lot just now.”
“That’s why I’m trying to find out.”
“You really can’t lie.”
“I’m good at it.”
“You’re not.”
Erka irritably adjusted her grip on the metal box.
I gestured toward the stairs with my chin.
“Anyway, I don’t know either, so I’m trying to find out what it is. If you see any pieces of thread on the ground, pick them up.”
“Pieces of thread?”
“Yeah.”
“Am I a janitor?”
“A janitor can’t open doors.”
Erka glared at me.
“You really have a way of talking that pisses people off.”
“So are you coming or not?”
“I’m coming.”
She followed right away.