[Episode 12]
“…You’re the top freshman?”
The first day I entered the student council, the very first question I received gave me a hunch.
This place isn’t normal either.
“Why?”
Whether the academy was built on bad ground, or whether the title itself was the problem, the nobles at the academy tended to have some twisted facet to their personalities. The male student who introduced himself as Aiden Douglas was no different. I felt his gaze brush ever so slightly across my leg before falling away.
“…Are you asking how I became the top freshman?”
When I asked back, unable to gauge his intention at all, Aiden answered with a scoff.
“No, it’s amazing. Coming from that rural territory, in that… physical condition, and still becoming the top freshman at the Imperial Academy.”
My leg was injured, not my head, and I had no idea why he was conflating the two, but I answered indifferently and brushed it off.
“Yeah. Thanks. I think I’m amazing too.”
Watching Aiden’s dumbfounded expression, I moved along. Truthfully, I had been worried about something else to the point that such petty malice almost felt congenial.
For instance, Roxanne, who had been watching for a chance to speak to me since earlier.
“We met at the cafeteria that time! I actually wanted to talk more, but….”
My prediction was spot on. Roxanne strode straight up, grabbed my hand tightly, her eyes sparkling, and kept talking without giving me a chance to respond.
“You looked so busy that I couldn’t bring myself to stop you. Still, it’s nice to meet like this! When Senior Irene said she would appoint this year’s top freshman… the student as a student council officer, she brought up a name I’d never heard before. I wondered who it might be, but I never thought it was you.”
Honestly, I was so surprised when you came in together with the senior. I thought a burly boy would come in. Saying so, Roxanne smiled bashfully. It was a bright smile that warmed the surroundings.
‘But no matter where I go, they never fail to mention the name.’
I nodded at Roxanne’s words, thinking, *I see*. I reflected once again that Count and Countess Degoff’s naming sense must truly be extraordinary….
After that, whenever we ran into each other, Roxanne would ask after me lightly. Holding my hand warmly, in an affectionate tone.
‘How can anyone be like this. You really need to be at this level to be a protagonist, I suppose.’
Awkwardly holding her hand in return, I looked at Roxanne and smiled ambiguously, and each time, the Crown Prince would stare fixedly at that sight.
Once again, he was always beautifully composed, never showing any ups and downs. Every time I looked at the Crown Prince, I reconfirmed my taste for men with calm, muted hues. That said, I had not the slightest intention of getting entangled with him.
Whenever the Crown Prince looking at me—or rather, at my hand held by Roxanne—grew too burdensome, I would always carefully pull my hand away from Roxanne’s grasp. And I would always, as naturally as possible, pat Roxanne’s shoulder while using Irene as an excuse to slowly slip away.
Each time I did that, Roxanne would visibly sulk, and the Crown Prince would assume an expression somehow cold beneath his blank face, but….
‘Just pick one, you bastard.’
If being close caused a fuss and trying to distance myself caused a fuss too, then it was better to just keep my distance. Fortunately, the two awkward people hardly ever came out once they entered the student council president’s office.
The accounting office I belonged to was a cramped room in the furthest corner. In that desolate place where not a soul came unless it was budget-related, Irene and I maintained a suffocating silence.
*Well, that might be true for me, but Irene is from a Count’s family—why doesn’t she have a single friend to hang around with?*
It was called a student council room, but the other kids would each secretly bring their friends along and whatnot…. And after observing for a few days, I could easily find the reason.
“They possess no relevant background whatsoever, and above all, what does running a magic tool shop have to do with the Academy’s theology classes, that we should allocate a budget to invite this person as a special lecturer? I cannot accept this.”
“You want to use surplus funds to stock refreshments in the student council room? No.”
“The floral decorations for the spring ball. The budget proposal you submitted differs from the amount I checked with the vendor. It’s not just once or twice now—what are you trying to pull?”
As is always the case with those who handle money, there were endless matters to clash over regarding the budget, and on top of that, Irene seemed to be someone completely impervious to persuasion or flexibility. Thanks to that, it was completely cut off from the bustling atmosphere outside.
And to me, that, that was just so….
*Comfortable… and great!*
The accounting office, where tall bookshelves blocked even the sunlight. In that quiet room where cold air lingered, I sipped the tea Irene had shared and looked over the handover documents. If student council life was like this, I felt I could handle it just fine.
The days like a sandstorm had passed, and daily life at the academy had grown quite stable. Aside from attending classes and following Irene to handle student council affairs, I spent most of my day studying in the library of the Old Building or shooting my bow at the archery range. Fortunately, neither the library nor the archery range were places people frequented, so I had been spending a rather quiet daily life… or so I had thought.
It seemed the weather was not the only thing gradually warming up. The hearts of the academy students had also loosened, and from some point on, peculiar atmospheres began blooming in the gazes of passing students.
Seeing how the freshmen who had just enrolled still walked around frozen in nervous tension, these seemed to be second- and third-year students who had returned to their respective homes during the break and reunited at the academy. Perhaps the yearning had grown while they were apart, for they wandered about looking for secluded corners within the academy—places where only the two of them could exist. And it seemed one of the spots thus selected was the library in the Old Building.
“Didn’t you miss me?”
“Umm… don’t ask that. You know already.”
“I won’t let you go until you say it yourself.”
“What, really. Ahaha.”
I can hear everything, you kids….
Hearing strangers’ private conversations in a quiet place where only the pages rustled was unpleasant. It seemed the people in the library either didn’t think others could hear them, or they treated us like NPCs who didn’t matter even if we heard.
Every time I saw couples enter together and then disappear separately with flushed faces, I felt I could understand why the academy researchers I had occasionally encountered in the Old Building library had vanished like ghosts from some point on.
Through a few experiences, they seemed to have learned that during this season, the Old Building library served functions beyond those of a library. Just as I was reaching a state of enlightenment from the revolving-sushi-like stream of new people constantly coming and going, a man passed near the desk where I sat. *There goes another one*, I thought as I turned the page, but the male student who had passed by circled back near me and stopped.
“Dietrich?”
…Someone who knows Dietrich?
I raised my head and looked up at the male student who had called Dietrich’s name. Strangely, the moment I saw his face, I felt my heart thud and sink.
The male student standing before me was ordinary. Of course, he couldn’t compare to the faces of the original work’s main cast or the Second Prince, but even considering that, he was a face where the eyes, nose, and mouth were more or less properly in place. His face, lumped together in a flour-like pallor, and his splotchy blond hair were somewhat memorable, if anything.
The strange thing was my body—no, Dietrich’s body’s reaction.
Even when I saw Cedric, my heart had never pounded like this, nor had nausea welled up like this. The revulsion rising seemingly by physiological reflex, beyond my control, was enough to bewilder even me.
*What, why is this happening.*
Along with the surging nausea, my head began to ache as if it would crack. I had never hurt this suddenly even in reality, so I was at a complete loss. Because of that, I couldn’t answer at all, and the man continued with an awkward expression.
“It is Dietrich, right? I wasn’t sure. Hey, long time no see. How have you been?”
Strangely, the man was scrutinizing my expression as if gauging the atmosphere. I wanted to say something to that flour-dough-like face, but I could no longer endure the surging nausea. Trying to stand up in a hurry, I ended up falling over my chair with a clatter.
In the quiet space, the sound of the librarian approaching and saying something reverberated in a low drone at the sudden loud noise. The headache was growing worse.
“Urgh.”
I ultimately couldn’t hold it in and emptied my stomach. Fragments of Dietrich’s memories that had faintly remained since I entered this world surged forth.
Gasping against the splitting headache, I took a breath and vomited again as if coughing. With the burning pain inside as stomach acid rose, I couldn’t come to my senses.
The librarian who had approached before I knew it carefully wrapped their arms around me, examined my complexion, and asked what was wrong. I looked at the male student standing awkwardly behind the librarian as if surprised. The flour-like face, the blond hair patched here and there, and the lips that twisted every time he was surprised. In Dietrich’s memories that had suddenly surged in, that male student’s face remained vivid.
“……!”
The day Dietrich fell from the stairs, this man had been there.
Logan Usher. The third son of Viscount Usher’s household and the family’s problem child.
And Dietrich’s “ex-ish” boyfriend.
The reason I said “ex-ish” was because this bastard had never formally dated Dietrich. Holding hands, lending a shoulder, light kisses. All of it had happened before any relationship between them could even be defined.
Logan’s parents, Viscount and Viscountess Usher, sent their youngest son—who caused all sorts of trouble even before reaching adulthood—to Hailem, a rural corner of the Empire, under the pretext of recuperation. Thus, as one of the few noble houses’ “spare children” who contributed a few pennies to Hailem’s finances, he met Dietrich, who was trapped inside his own castle in the territory.
For Logan, living in a rural corner with nothing proper to do, the fact that a girl his age resided in the lord’s castle must have been quite intriguing. Over several days, Logan tossed pebbles tap-tap at Dietrich’s window to call him out, since he never came outside. Having thrown them for days on end, Dietrich likewise couldn’t overcome his curiosity and finally opened the window.
The Dietrich who appeared then was, well, as you know, a child with a shoujo manga-like appearance rarely seen in a rural corner. Having glimpsed the pale face faintly visible through the gap of the open window and the hair sparkling in the moonlight, it was obvious what Logan did next.