I did not move at night.
If Serena Arsein had gone so far as to send that message through a knight’s mouth,
it meant there was a place where I would be caught if I moved at night.
I lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Gaps between the wooden planks, old nail marks, soot from the lamp, dust.
That was all there was to see, but sleep would not come.
The emptied room.
The polished handle.
The bread crumbs caught beneath the door.
The scratch marks inside the drawer.
The scrap of paper from the gap in the wardrobe floor.
…Ryu.
And the ones who had come right up to the door.
That room had not been just an empty room.
It was a room where the traces of someone having lived there had been erased.
Then what would they erase next?
Or.
What would they fill back in?
I closed my eyes.
The soup in the dining hall at breakfast was still terrible.
Today it was watery bean soup; the color was careless, and the smell was half-baked.
I tore the bread with my hands and soaked it in the soup.
Two students in the seats beside me were talking about outside training.
“They said the list’ll be posted soon.”
“Already?”
“The professor said so yesterday.”
Their voices were ordinary. So ordinary that it grated on me more.
I swept my eyes once across the dining hall.
Mia was sitting a little ways away.
She looked at me, then at her plate, then back at me again.
Her ears had drooped ever so slightly.
It was the face of someone who wanted to stick close but was holding herself back.
I gave a slight shake of my head.
Mia pouted, but she did not come over.
Erka passed by near the dining hall entrance.
The shadows under her eyes looked a little dead.
I got up from my seat without finishing the soup.
About half the students had entered the common classroom.
The professor was not at the blackboard yet, and the students were each opening their books or chatting with the person beside them.
I sat in a seat toward the back and took a blank sheet of paper from my bag.
I had no intention of taking notes.
The first thing I looked at was not the blackboard.
It was the seat that had been empty last class.
The seat with no book, no ink bottle, no bag.
The seat where only the chair had been pushed in neatly.
Today, someone was sitting there.
Brown hair.
An ordinary uniform.
A faint red mark remaining below the nape of his neck.
It was Kyle.
I stopped with my pen half-raised.
When the name “Kyle” had first been called,
the answer had come from the right side of the front row.
At that time, that seat had been empty.
And yet now Kyle was sitting there.
There was a book too.
An ink bottle too.
A bag too.
Everything was far too neat.
Kyle had his head lowered as he opened his book.
It was not the first page.
It was somewhere around the middle.
He stared down at that page for a few seconds, then turned the paper with his fingertips.
Another page.
And another.
He took hold of the ink bottle’s lid.
The lid was already open.
Even so, Kyle tried to twist it once more.
He put strength into it in the opposite direction, and when the lid spun uselessly, he paused for a moment.
Then he laughed by himself.
When the professor entered, the noisy students went quiet.
The professor opened the attendance book on the desk, and I marked a single dot on my paper.
“Arbel.”
“Yes.”
“Rodin.”
“Yes.”
The professor’s finger moved down to the next line.
“Kyle.”
“Yes.”
The student beside him did not look at Kyle.
The students behind him did not speak to him either.
No one said, “Did you change seats?”
Class began.
The professor wrote a mana control formula on the blackboard.
Chalk dust fell little by little beneath the board.
“If the circulation wavers, the recoil will come from the wrist first.”
The wrist.
I looked toward Kyle.
His sleeves covered his wrists.
Kyle was holding a pen.
The tip of the pen touched the paper.
But he did not write.
Only after seeing the student next to him taking notes did he move his hand.
He drew a similar line in the same place.
He was not writing down the contents.
He was only imitating the act of taking notes.
When class ended, the sound of chairs scraping surged all at once,
and the students rose from their seats.
I did not move immediately.
Kyle also rose from his seat, closed his book,
put away his pen, and closed the lid of his ink bottle.
The order was correct.
So correct that, rather, it felt as if someone beside him had called out,
“Book, pen, ink bottle.”
He picked up his bag, then lost his grip on the handle once.
He immediately grabbed it again and laughed.
This time too, no one had been watching, but he laughed by himself.
The students around him passed by.
I stood up one beat late.
If I stuck too close right away, I would stand out; if I was too late, I would lose him.
The corridor quickly grew noisy with students coming out of class.
I watched Kyle’s back reflected in the window glass and adjusted my distance.
Kyle walked toward the corner.
As if passing by, I called his name.
“Kyle.”
Kyle turned around at once.
“Yes.”
His answer was too neat.
I looked at his face for a moment.
His mouth was smiling, and his eyes followed a little late.
“Never mind.”
I did not ask anything more.
At first, I had wanted to ask all of it.
Why he had answered from a different seat,
why he was now sitting in that empty seat,
whether that room was his room.
But the moment I asked, it would reveal what I was looking at.
Kyle stood there for a moment, then smiled again.
“Yes.”
That answer too was neat.
So neat that it made it worse.
I passed him and turned the corner.
Mia was waiting against the wall.
She was hugging several books to her chest,
and her ears were pointed toward the corridor.
Kyle was still behind us.
I did not speak to her right away.
Mia did not look at me either.
Kyle passed by us.
He was not extremely close,
but at that moment, Mia’s ears stood up briefly.
The tip of her nose twitched once too.
Kyle did not look back.
He walked on toward the stairs.
His smiling face was briefly reflected in the corridor window before disappearing.
Only then did Mia speak in a low voice.
“I saw it.”
“The smell?”
Mia nodded.
“That room.”
“Did it just get on him?”
“No.”
Mia pressed her lips together slightly, as if choosing her words.
“They covered it.”
“With what?”
“Dried grass. Wet cloth. Oil.”
Mia looked in the direction Kyle had disappeared.
“But it’s underneath.”
“What is?”
“The smell of that room.”
I looked toward the end of the corridor.
Kyle had not completely disappeared yet.
He was heading toward the stairs.
The smell of the room had not merely rubbed off on him.
They had covered his body with other smells,
but it was still leaking out from underneath.
I was about to take a step forward, then stopped.
A student monitor was standing beside a pillar.
He was holding a bundle of papers in his hand.
He pretended to be looking at the corridor on the opposite side,
but his fingers kept pressing down on the corner of the papers.
A nervous hand.
“Senior?”
“Wait.”
“Follow him?”
“No.”
Mia’s ears moved a little.
“Lie.”
“This time, I mean it.”
Just then, a low voice came from the other side of the corridor.
“That judgment is correct.”
I turned my head.
Leona was standing there.
Black gloves, a scabbard, a posture without the slightest disorder.
Standing among the students, she stood out.
“Is this Miss Arsein’s order again?”
“This time, it is my judgment.”
“Why?”
“If you follow him now, you will be caught.”
“Are you saying he’s bait?”
Leona did not answer right away.
Sometimes silence is an answer.
I clicked my tongue briefly.
“You people even resemble each other in the way you don’t answer.”
“I have said what was necessary.”
“Very grateful.”
“There is no need for thanks.”
Leona did not move a single eyebrow.
She really was a tiring person.
Kyle was almost at the end of the corridor.
Then he stopped for the briefest moment and looked back.
His mouth was smiling.
It was the same neat smile as before.
But his right hand was scratching the inside of his left wrist.
At first, I thought he was simply scratching himself.
He wasn’t.
His fingernails went inside his sleeve and came out.
Went in again and came out again.
A red dot spread at the end of his sleeve.
Blood.
Kyle was smiling even though he was bleeding.
Mia said very softly,
“It hurts.”
“Him?”
“Yeah.”
“But he’s smiling.”
Mia did not answer.
Her ears folded low.
Kyle looked forward again.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he disappeared toward the stairs.
I did not move.
If I followed him now, it would mean I had been watching Kyle.
It would mean I was connecting that room and Kyle.
Leona said nothing beside me.
I stared at the end of the corridor for a long while.
Even after Kyle disappeared, the corridor remained the same for some time.
Leona said nothing more.
I did not ask either.
There was no way that woman would tell me everything she knew,
and she was not someone who would answer obediently just because I asked.
Mia kept looking toward the stairs where Kyle had disappeared.
Her ears were pressed low.
I could not concentrate on the next class.
The professor wrote something long on the blackboard.
I understood the letters,
but they did not enter my head.
The blood spreading on Kyle’s wrist kept coming to mind.
He had bled, but he had smiled.
It had hurt, but he had smiled.
I rolled my pen.
Tap.
The tip of the pen hit the desk.
The student beside me glanced over, then turned his head again.
I straightened the pen.
Now even my hands are moving on their own.
When class ended and I went down to the dining hall,
I first looked toward where Line usually sat.
She was not there.
A few students from the Sanctuary side were in the corner,
and I could see the kids who normally spoke to Line too.
But Line was not among them.
Line appeared just before the afternoon common class.
She walked slowly from the end of the corridor.
She was smiling as usual.
Her hair ribbon was not disheveled,
and her uniform was neat.
The problem was her hands.
The fingertips of the hands hugging her books to her chest were trembling ever so slightly.
To hide that, Line hugged the books tighter.
I had been leaning against the wall, and I pushed myself away from it.
“You.”
Line looked at me and smiled.
“Lord Valter.”
“Where did you go?”
“There was something I had to help with for a moment.”
“Help whom?”
Line did not answer right away.
In that short gap, the answer came out.
“The Sanctuary side?”
Line smiled.
“It was nothing.”
“Your hands are shaking.”
At those words, Line’s hands moved a little lower beneath the books.
She hid them quickly.
“I’m fine.”
That again.
I stood in front of Line.
Students were coming and going in the corridor.
If I held her here for too long, it would stand out.
Even so, I asked.
“You’re not fine.”
Line’s smile faded ever so slightly.
“I’m really fine.”
Twice.
Which meant she really was not fine.
Just then, someone from the Sanctuary side, wearing a white assistant’s uniform, approached from the other side of the corridor.
He was not very old.
His smiling face was polite, but his footsteps were excessively quiet.
He stopped in front of Line.
“Miss Line.”
Line turned her head.
“Yes.”
“You need to come with me for a moment.
Stabilization assistance is required.”
Stabilization assistance.
The moment I heard those words, the back of my neck went cold.
In the original, it had only been a short notice.
Line will be absent for a moment.
She will stabilize a student in need of help.
End.
It had passed by like a trivial support event.
Line had returned smiling during the next class,
and there had been no abnormalities on her status window.
The problem had come after that.
For some reason, during battle, the turn for Line’s healing formula was delayed.
The barrier weakened.
The illustration around Line’s wrist changed to a faint red.
Even then, her line had been the same.
I’m fine.
I looked at Line’s hands.
Her fingertips were still trembling.
Line hid that hand behind the spine of her book.
“Right now?”
“Yes. It will not take long.”
The assistant smiled.
“If Miss Line helps, the student will stabilize quickly.”
Student.
He did not say the name.
I stepped forward.
“Whose stabilization is this?”
The gaze of the man in the white assistant’s uniform turned to me.
“You are Student Valter.”
“I’m the one asking the question.”
“It is a student in an unstable condition.”
“And the name?”
“That is difficult to tell you.”
“Then don’t take her.”
The sound in the corridor thinned for a brief moment.
Line called me in a low voice.
“Lord Valter.”
“You don’t answer.”
Line swallowed her breath.
The man in the white assistant’s uniform did not wipe away his smile.
“It is an official request.”
“Bring the document.”
“It is a request from the Sanctuary.”
“This is a school.”
The surrounding students were definitely watching.
I had really made myself stand out in public.
But I had no intention of backing down.
Line tried to take one step forward.
I reached out and pressed down on the upper part of the book spine.
I did not grab her hard.
It was just enough to tell her to stop.
Line looked at me.
“I’m fine.”
“Third time.”
“What?”
“That’s the third time you’ve said that.”
Rine couldn’t answer.
Just then, Mia, who had been on the other side of the corridor, stopped.
She was holding books in her arms, pretending to be on her way to class.
But her ears had flattened low.
The tip of her nose moved ever so slightly.
Mia said nothing.
She simply glanced once at Rine, then looked at the fingertips of the person in the white assistant uniform.
Then she shifted her gaze to me.
Our eyes met.
Her lips barely moved.
‘Thread.’
No sound came out.
Even so, I could read it.
I looked at Rine’s wrist.
I couldn’t see beneath her sleeve.
Rine was hugging her books even tighter.
She wasn’t tied yet.
Then if I sent her now, she really would be.
I couldn’t let her go.
The white assistant uniform said,
“We need to confirm Miss Rine’s intentions.”
I turned toward him.
“Take someone else.”
“Miss Rine is the appropriate candidate.”
“Appropriate candidate, my ass.”
“Student Valter.”
His voice was still gentle.
That made it even more irritating.
“If you interfere, the procedure will take longer.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
More eyes from the surrounding students fixed on us.
Someone murmured quietly.
Those words caught in my ears.
“Lord Valter, I really—”
“Rine.”
I called her name shortly.
Rine stopped.
“Don’t say that.”
Rine closed her lips.
The fingertips gripping the spine of her book were still trembling.
I looked at the white assistant uniform.
“Then let’s do this.”
His gaze settled on me.
“I’ll provide resonance support.”
Rine immediately lifted her head.
“No.”
Resonance support.
When a sacred arts user deployed a technique,
it was an auxiliary function where someone beside them opened their mana like a passage and forcibly raised the output.
In the game, a check that required two sacred arts users
could be substituted with one sacred arts user and one resonance medium.
Put nicely, it was support.
Put badly, it was a battery that got its mana sucked dry.
Its efficiency was good.
In the game, it ended with your mana gauge dropping,
but I wondered how it would be here.
The smile on the white assistant uniform deepened slightly.
“So you know about resonance support.”
“In theory.”
“Will you do it yourself, Student Valter?”
“Yes.”
Rine hugged her books even tighter.
“No.”
“Why?”
“That isn’t something you should do, Lord Valter.”
“Then if it isn’t something I should do, is it something only you should have to do?”
Rine couldn’t answer.
I looked at Rine’s hand.
“Open your hand.”
Rine couldn’t open it right away.
The fingertips gripping the book’s spine were trembling.
That was enough.
“Don’t tell me you’re fine. Go rest.”
Rine’s lips went still.
Mia was watching me from the other side of the corridor.
Her ears were pressed low.
I moved my chin very slightly.
Don’t follow me.
Mia made a face like she hated it, but she didn’t move.
I turned toward the white assistant uniform.
“Let’s go.”
“This way.”
He politely took one step back.
It looked like he was showing me the way.
But that smiling face was far too proper.
So I wanted to punch him.