Counseling (1)
'Looking at them like this, it really feels daunting.'
I scanned the students seated in the classroom.
Though there were slight age differences among them, they were all basically kids not yet fifteen years old.
But I couldn't let my guard down. These were the main villains who caused the biggest problems in the original story.
'Without the Guide's help this time, I probably couldn't have even made it here.'
I recalled the original plot.
In the original story, set one year from now, the forest around this old school building was called the Trap Forest.
A year before the original timeline, these six mischievous troublemakers who lived in this forest had set traps whenever they got bored, leading the faculty to designate it a forbidden zone.
I'd enjoyed reading about how the original female protagonist accidentally entered the forest and ended up in all sorts of entanglements with the male leads.
Of course, I couldn't pinpoint every trap's location just from reading the text, so I'd had no choice but to rely on the Guide.
'Whoa... what the hell is this forest...? Pretty much everywhere looks ominous...?'
'...Please guide me carefully.'
'One wrong step here and you're in real danger. For now, infuse your body with mana and step exactly where I stepped, okay?'
In the original story, the protagonist had crossed this forest with the guide's help too.
If the Guide hadn't lived up to his name and profession, she wouldn't have arrived on time—she'd have died inside.
For now, maybe I should try chatting lightly.
"Alright, everyone. Do you know anything about the Special Class, or do you have any questions?"
I asked the kids, but there was no immediate response.
No response at all.
The same children who'd mixed words with me when I called their names now pretended not to hear, all at once.
Of course, that was fine so far.
Maybe they truly had no questions or knowledge.
"Alright, looks like nothing. Moving on to the next topic, then."
[Counseling]
"For the next year, you'll be following a curriculum outside the regular one. This counseling is essential to that process—it'll determine the direction of your classes after individual sessions with each of you."
The kids still showed no reaction.
"Koooh..."
Iruka was asleep,
"Hmmm. A bit ambiguous, perhaps."
Serath was tending to her nails,
"Lord...!"
Hakan was reading his holy book with saliva dripping, as if it were the most fascinating thing,
"Shuk! Shushuk! Shuk!"
Rise had stood up entirely and was shadowboxing at the back of the classroom,
"Kyaa. I want this perfume...!"
Riko was sparkling-eyed over a fashion magazine.
And Abel Lilith, the one I was most wary of right now—
"Hee hee."
She smirked at me like she'd landed a solid hit.
Indeed, this wasn't mere ignorance—it was deliberate.
They'd responded to roll call out of fear of demerits, but otherwise, this was a silent protest against even speaking to me.
"The first one who wants counseling, raise your hand."
Naturally, no one did.
Instead, they ramped up their distractions, as if to show me.
"Hee hee hee."
Abel's mocking smile intensified in proportion.
I could threaten demerits for not participating properly, but that would be amateurish.
An abandoned old school building with no one around.
Six main villains far stronger than a scrub like me.
...Perfect conditions for killing one person, no?
"I heard you're under confinement and can't leave the old school building grounds."
Villains or not, they were still kids under fifteen.
The key to bonding with kids was—
"Thinking of that, I grabbed a few things casually on the way here. Take a look."
Gifts.
I laid out the presents I'd picked up from the Shopping District with the Guide's guidance, one by one, on the empty desks.
At the word 'gifts,' the kids' gazes—who'd been desperately ignoring me—snapped together.
I was someone who'd memorized not just the original story but even the setting materials.
Recalling what they liked was easy.
"First, this is the latest nail art set. Being stuck in a place like the old school building must make nail care tough for girls your age in your prime."
"...Hmph."
Serath kept glancing over while filing her nails.
When our eyes met, she hurriedly looked away and mangled her nails in a frenzy.
For the germaphobe Serath, this old school building must be hell. Especially since she obsessed over her nails—this set would be her savior.
"Next is a scripture. I heard there's a pious kid. It's the famous Bishop Pierre's 'Multifaceted Approaches and Interpretations of the Divine,' published last month."
"Oh, ooh... Ah, gulp!"
Hakan almost shouted but quickly covered his mouth.
He buried his face in his original holy book, but his eyes still darted here.
In the original, Hakan bordered on fanaticism, revering Bishop Pierre like a father figure.
"This one's unfamiliar to me—the guide recommended it. It's perfume. Even students want to spruce themselves up, naturally."
"Kyaa~?! It's Blancage's latest!! I was just looking at it in the magazine!"
Riko didn't hide her delight.
She wriggled happily, drooling at me—or rather, the perfume in my hand.
Riko had an abnormal obsession with perfumes in the original too.
"I heard meals here rely on summons delivering slop carts three times a day. This is a little treat—top-grade beef from the Marcelo region."
"...Slurp."
Rise started drooling profusely.
Meat was straight fire for beastkin. The school wouldn't feed these old building kids properly anyway—just filthy rations. Protein was crucial for that musclehead student.
"No way the old school building provides proper bedding. This is the latest from Simos Co. I didn't bring a mattress today, but I can replace that soon."
"...!!!"
Iruka's head snapped up from her pillow toward the one in my hand.
Iruka was a sleep fiend who spent most of her time in bed in the original. Could she resist this masterpiece from Simos? I doubted it.
"...!"
Abel glared at me, frustrated by the others' reactions.
Of course, Abel—I didn't forget yours.
In the original, the blood witch Abel Lilith inspired fear, but there was one scene where she showed a girlish side.
"And this is a special macaron box from Duen Confectionery. Even money can't buy it, but the owner gave it to me as a new teacher this year."
"Eh."
Abel's eyes widened.
Her hands trembled, pupils vibrating impossibly fine.
I wanted to wave the box to see if her gaze followed, but that might get me killed, so I held back.
'Seeing this, they really are just kids.'
Yeah, these kids weren't villains from the start.
They hadn't sinned yet—still immature, incomplete. Maybe I could rehabilitate them now.
"I brought them as gifts, but I'm not handing them out right away."
I tapped the 'Counseling' on the chalkboard with my knuckles.
"Only to those who book a counseling slot. Of course, everyone must finish by the end of the week."
Abel couldn't tear her eyes from the macaron box on the desk.
What were Duen's special macarons? A box from the academy's unrivaled top confectionery, handcrafted by the owner himself—81 unique flavors with different shells and fillings.
From the academy director down, countless elites lined up for a taste, but it went only to those who pleased the owner.
Rumors said he'd even refused the imperial princess. And now it was right in front of her.
'Ah, no.'
Amid the intense temptation that made even her thoughts tremble, Abel held her posture rigid.
Of course, it was just her delusion— to Otto, her eyes were already glazed, hypnotized by the macarons.
Abel glanced around.
The other kids were entranced, staring at their gifts like zombies, ready to pounce.
And sadly, Abel's prediction hit the mark.
"Me."
Iruka, usually half-asleep, raised her hand with the world's brightest eyes.
"Gimme the pillow." "It's not about the pillow—it's booking a counseling date."
As expected, the old building students were all my-pace, but Iruka was the ultimate space cadet.
She quickly booked a slot and snatched her gift.
One fell, and the rest crumbled in seconds.
"Tomorrow for me." "Then three days from now! Ehe hehe~!!!" "Lord... then two days for me." "Just pick whatever days are left."
The kids swarmed, grabbed their gifts, and swarmed back.
Like a tide receding, all that remained was the macaron box.
Otto and Abel's eyes met.
Somehow, looking away felt like losing, so they stared—but embarrassment, irritation, anger, and inexplicable shame flushed Abel's face red.
Otto regarded her with an inscrutable expression, then picked up the box.
"Counseling's optional, not forced. Abel."
"Ah... uh?!"
Abel let slip a sigh at the departing box and hurriedly clamped her mouth.
Instead, Otto glanced at her and unwrapped it.
Inside: 81 colorful macarons neatly arrayed in a 9x9 grid.
Otto picked the one near center.
Abel's face paled.
That spot held the owner's signature macaron, which changed monthly—the one-of-a-kind, once-in-a-lifetime treat.
Otto brought it to his mouth.
"Then I'll assume no counseling for you—"
Aaah—
As Otto parted his lips and the macaron slowly fulfilled its purpose toward his mouth, Abel shot forward faster than his wits.
"...Ah."
Maybe even she hadn't meant to— she realized too late she'd snatched the box, letting out a dazed sigh.
She'd grabbed the box in haste, but the signature macaron remained in Otto's hand.
"Th-that's not me agreeing to counseling— mmpf?!"
As Abel scrambled for an excuse, the teacher shoved the macaron into her mouth.
The moment her teeth crunched involuntarily, the crisp shell shattered and melted, coating her tongue; the chewy interior brought ecstasy.
But the craziest was the center filling—mind-meltingly delicious on contact.
Savoring it at length, Abel snapped back at the hand on her head.
"Wh-why are you petting my head...!"
Normally she'd swat it away, but the macaron's bliss had melted her facial muscles—no anger rose.
"Your session's the very last day."
"Th...! H-haa... Got it."
She tried to protest, but knew arguing further would be ugly— she'd snatched the box, eaten the signature one, and grinned goofily. So she yielded.
Satisfied, Otto turned away.
"Class ends here for today. Remember your dates and come find me anytime that day."
Click.
The door shut, leaving only the kids.
Abel stomped, glaring at the door Otto vanished through.
"Ughhh!! What the hell is with that teacher...!!!"
Then the door reopened.
Thinking he'd overheard, Otto looked at Abel.
"And clean up the broken window yourself. Abel."
Slide—click.
The door shut again.
"...!!!!"
Abel's face burned redder than ever.