Chapter 191: Second Year(5)
Chapter 191: Second Year(5)
In both my past and present lives, I’ve had plenty of experiences so spine-chilling they left me unable to even scream.
In my past life, it was things like coming home, flipping on the light, and having a cockroach fly straight at my face—or finding out my parents were using my computer.
In this life, it was the time I accidentally showed Mari a drawing of a steam locomotive because of my own airheadedness. Fortunately, I’d drawn it like a child back then, so I wasn't caught.
Well, at this point, that doesn't matter much anymore, so I don't dwell on it. I do, however, vividly remember how her face changed colors in real-time.
"Author Xenon?"
And returning to the present, I felt my heart sink once again. It was because of the pink-haired girl standing before me—Cherry.
I have no idea why she’s keeping a strand of my hair so carefully, but regardless, this is a crisis. As I’ve mentioned before, red hair is extremely rare.
How rare? It’s harder to find than Mithril, an ore said to be even more precious than diamonds. There’s even a rumor that it was the symbol of a fallen royal family from the past, though I couldn't care less about that.
"Xenon? Why bring up that name all of a sudden?"
"W-well, who knows?"
For now, the most important thing is to play it off. It would be one thing if I were alone with Cherry, but Elena is right here, and students are milling about the hallway now that lectures have ended.
I answered Elena’s question while stiff with tension, glancing at Cherry. She was still tilting her head, her eyes devoid of any spark of life.
Did she say a hair came out of a letter earlier? Since I’ve been diligently replying to her fan letters, it’s possible a strand of hair accidentally slipped in.
But the fact that she’s keeping that hair in a glass bottle... is definitely not normal. I feel bad saying this about her, but she clearly has some mental issues.
Swallowing hard, I spoke gently to Cherry, who was still clutching my hair.
"Student Cherry? May I ask why you called me Author Xenon?"
"Red."
When I asked, Cherry gave a short reply, holding the glass bottle close to show me the hair inside. Though it was only a single strand, it glowed with a vivid red light.
It was a one-word answer, but I understood what she meant. She must think I'm Xenon because my hair color is identical to the one from the letter.
However, there was one thing she hadn't realized. I pretended to think for a moment before questioning her.
"You said this hair came out of a letter earlier, right?"
Nod, nod.
"Then, are you concluding that I'm Xenon simply because my hair color matches this one?"
Nod, nod.
Cherry nodded at my consecutive questions. All the while, she kept a firm grip on my hair, refusing to let go.
I stared at Cherry’s expression, which seemed to hold a flicker of anticipation, then pointed to the hair she was holding and spoke.
"But Student Cherry. As you can see, my hair is long. The one in there is short."
"...Ah?"
Exactly. When I sent those replies to Cherry, it was before Mora played that prank on me—back when my hair was a normal length.
But now, my hair has grown long enough to reach my waist. If it takes women months to grow their hair to their waist, imagine how much more unusual it is for a man.
Realizing this late, Cherry blinked slowly and compared the length of my hair to the strand in the bottle.
"And there are plenty of people with red hair in the world besides me. Isn't it a bit hasty to conclude I'm Author Xenon just because the colors match?"
"... ..."
As I pointed this out in a calm, quiet voice, the strength in Cherry’s hand slowly faded, and she let go of my hair. Furthermore, her already lifeless eyes grew even darker.
Just as I was starting to feel uneasy at her reaction, Cherry lowered her head and muttered in a small, uncertain voice.
"...Is it not?"
"... ..."
"Red hair... is almost nonexistent..."
Can a person really be this eerie? Hearing Cherry’s muttering made my mouth feel bone-dry.
If I weren't actually Xenon, it would be one thing, but since I am, I couldn't just brush it off easily. I needed to get away from her somehow, but it wasn't going to be easy.
Fortunately, someone stepped in to end the situation.
"Student Cherry? Don't you have another class? You should at least be attending your orientation."
It was Elena, who had been watching the situation from the sidelines. She pushed up her glasses and spoke to Cherry in her characteristic businesslike tone.
In other words, she was telling her to stop bothering an innocent person and go to class. At those words, Cherry slowly lifted her head.
After exchanging looks with Elena for a moment, she spoke in her usual gloomy voice.
"...Where is it?"
"Pardon?"
"The office..."
Is she talking about the laboratory? It seems she hasn't dropped her suspicions and intends to come find me.
Elena pondered the question for a moment before looking at me with an expression that asked what I wanted to do. It was incredibly awkward, but I didn't think I should refuse.
I had a strong feeling that this girl, Cherry, would follow me even if I said no. She might even skip her next class just to stalk me.
I let out a long sigh at the complicating situation and spoke with a heavy heart.
"...I'll draw you a map, so come there. It's the building called the History Hall."
"Thank you..."
After thanking me, Cherry pulled out the notebook and magic pen she always carried. By the way, when does she plan on letting go of my hair?
As I drew the map in her notebook, I felt an intense gaze on me. It was obviously Cherry, but the intensity was overwhelming.
The moment I glanced up, I couldn't help but flinch.
Her eyes were as dull as a fish's as always, but she was wearing a strangely chilling smile. Her gaze was fixed precisely on my hand.
"It is you..."
"W-what is?"
After muttering that, she pointed her index finger not at the page where I was drawing the map, but at the back of the notebook. Curious, I flipped the notebook over.
On the back of the notebook, there were no records related to the Xenon Biography, just simple, mundane notes. Things like a to-do list for the day or important appointments.
Looking at just that, it was hard to tell what she meant, but after hearing her next words, I realized my mistake.
"The handwriting..."
"... ..."
"It's the same as the letters..."
Just as everyone has a different personality, everyone has different handwriting. Even if someone tries to forge it, it takes an immense amount of effort.
And my handwriting is elegant enough to be praised even by my mother. Since I write novels by hand, it was the result of my effort to at least make the writing look beautiful.
But to be caught because of my handwriting—it was absolutely mind-boggling. It might be because we've been exchanging letters, but despite her appearance, she seems to have extraordinary observational skills.
Rip—
I didn't give Cherry an answer to her confirmation; I simply tore out the map and handed it to her. When I gave her the map, she cradled it with both hands as if she had received a treasure.
Her expression had also clearly changed; the corners of her mouth turned up slightly, and her cheeks were faintly flushed. However, her dead eyes remained the same as before.
It felt like a doll smiling, which gave me the creeps, but I tried my best not to show it.
"You can come here. I'll be there until at least six, so come after you've finished all your classes. Understood?"
"Yes..."
"I don't know what kind of misunderstanding you're having, Student Cherry, but I'll say it's not true for now. I'm not that kind of person."
Just in case, I didn't forget to deny it one last time. It felt like I'd already been half-caught, but I had to play dumb as much as possible.
However, Cherry seemed to take my strong denial as a confirmation, as she only gave a dark smile. She was quite pretty and had a figure that rivaled Cecile's, but those eyes of hers ruined everything.
I was about to turn around and leave with a restless heart.
Grab—
Cherry suddenly grabbed my right hand, stopping me. I was glad she hadn't grabbed my hair again, but it still made my heart jump.
I frowned slightly and looked at her as if to ask what it was this time, only to feel a strange sensation on my right hand.
The callus on the middle finger of my right hand. She was touching the writer's callus I’d had for a long time.
"Writer's callus..."
"... ..."
"I have one... too..."
Cherry said this as she showed me her own right hand. Her fingers were long and slender, like jade, but the most notable part was her middle finger.
Just like me, she had a writer's callus in the center of her middle finger. Does she write often, as I saw in her letters?
But more than that, Cherry’s expression was unusual. She was trying to smile, but the trembling of her lips suggested she was afraid of something.
I didn't know what she wanted or what kind of trauma she was carrying, but I had a feeling that I should never say anything cold to her.
She already seemed mentally unstable; I couldn't bring myself to be harsh. I put on a smile and spoke in a kind voice.
"Seeing that you have a writer's callus too, you must have worked very hard, Ms. Cherry."
"Ah..."
"I don't know exactly what you're working toward, but if you keep working hard, you'll see results."
I don't know if my words were a warm comfort to her.
"So, just don't give up. Okay?"
But a tiny bit of light returned to Cherry’s eyes.
*
"Haa... haa... haa..."
After Isaac and Elena left, Cherry didn't attend her next class and immediately ran off somewhere in a hurry.
Her pink hair fluttered in the wind, and even running was a struggle because of her unnecessarily large chest, but she kept her legs moving nonetheless.
Passersby looked at her with strange glances, but they soon turned away and went on their way. Eventually, the place Cherry arrived at was the female students' dormitory.
"Haa... haa..."
Entering the room she had been assigned on orientation day, she shut the door tight and tried to catch her breath. Her ample chest heaved up and down, and her pink hair was matted with sweat from her frantic run.
Once she had calmed down to some extent, Cherry slowly lifted her head. With eyes that seemed brighter than before, she hurriedly looked around the room.
As if reflecting her unstable mental state, the room was a mess; even the clothes she had worn when she first entered the Academy were strewn about.
The same went for the bag containing her civilian clothes rather than her school uniform. She swallowed hard and walked toward the bag.
Rustle— rustle—
After rummaging through the bag as if possessed, she pulled out a stack of papers. But their condition was bizarre.
It looked as if someone had 'torn them to shreds' and then taped them back together. There were even traces of them being crudely trampled.
Even at a glance, the damage was severe. It was a miracle they were even held together.
"... ..."
Cherry stared at the papers for a long while, panting. They weren't just any papers; they were manuscript paper, the kind used for writing novels.
And on those manuscripts, a story was written. The damage was so severe that it was hard to read properly, but one could tell that someone's blood, sweat, and affection were poured into them.
And that someone had mercilessly torn that effort and affection apart.
[Instead of writing this trash, why don't you read another philosophy book?]
As she looked at the manuscripts, a man's voice echoed in her head. At that voice, her small body began to tremble violently.
"Ugh... hngh..."
As the memory of that day—when her effort, affection, and even her heart were cruelly ripped away—resurfaced, tears began to fall from Cherry’s eyes.
As if vomiting out all the emotions she had kept bottled up inside, the tears became distinct streams, pooling at her chin.
"Please..."
She whispered, her voice bordering on a plea.
"Please... let it be true..."
She wept mournfully, like someone standing at the edge of a cliff.