Midnight Cleaning
"...Guess I passed out again."
The time I opened my eyes was once more the break of dawn, when the stars shone clearly in the night sky.
Potions dulled the pain and sped recovery, but they couldn't replace lost blood.
Feeling a slight dizziness, I stretched.
"At least my foot's fine."
I tapped it lightly on the floor—no pain. The inside of my shoe was caked in blood, but that was unavoidable, something I just had to endure.
What now? After a brief deliberation, I opted for a patrol. The old school building lacked light for reading documents, and magic practice didn't appeal. Lying back down was an option, but fresh from waking, sleep evaded me. Patrolling—or really, just a stroll—was the best idle activity.
I wasn't strong enough to truly protect those kids anyway.
"Kinda creepy."
As a child, I'd once snuck into school at night for a forgotten item. Exploring the dark halls while trembling had been thrillingly novel. Who'd have thought I'd be wandering the school at night as an adult? Nostalgia tugged at me as I walked the creaking corridors calmly. Those shivering days now felt like fond memories. Maybe it was the night air stirring old thoughts.
In a typical novel, something would happen right about now.
Running into a midnight assassin or getting snatched by a mysterious writhing shadow. I wanted no part of either, so I hoped nothing occurred. I'd circled everywhere except the third-floor dorms where the kids slept—nothing amiss. Just exploring the old school building, layered with the weight of time in dust.
"Cough, cough."
...The dust was thicker than expected. My throat scratched with every step. Unlike the relatively clean staff room, the dust-choked structure made me grimace.
These kids walk through this every day?
Come to think of it, since arriving at the old school building, I'd holed up in the staff room. Given their strength, mere dust wouldn't harm them—mana was versatile enough to ward it off. They probably knew and let it be. But that didn't make it right for kids to live in such conditions. A healthy mind blooms in a healthy environment.
I swiped a layer of dust with my fingertip.
"Whoa..."
Incredibly, nothing came away. Not dustless—the ancient accumulation had hardened into stone.
"This level needs professional gear."
No broom could handle it. You'd need chemicals to dissolve it outright. I clicked my tongue at the impossibility. Then, on a whim, I gathered mana in my hand.
"Never gets less weird."
Blue mana beaded at my fingertips; my eyes sparkled. Every guy dreams once of wielding such power. Learning mana in this world had me thrilled. Testing it on the dust, I watched in amazement as it vanished. I hadn't expected it to work—its success left me flustered.
"Am I specialized in cleaning mana or something?"
In the Steel Flower world, mages had unique mana wavelengths. Like Abel's Subordination, the student council president's wind, or the vice president's lightning. Bloodlines played a role too, but anyway. It felt lame, but useful here—I couldn't deny that.
"...Shall we try?"
Mana practice, cleaning, maybe even gain some favor with the kids. Who knew—a cleaner space might win them over.
...Heh, heh. We're so touched you care this much, sir! Let's be friends!
...Unlikely, but still. Hoping to boost my survival odds even a bit, I glanced skyward before starting. The bright yellow moon, just like my past life, gazed down.
"Moon, hear me out this time."
One more prayer to the moon for good measure, then I summoned mana and began cleaning the old school building.
Late into the dawn, Iruka quietly opened her eyes to a strange energy.
First came the musty dust smell, then the fresh forest breeze slipping through the poorly shut window. And a faint mana scent.
...Whose is that?
She'd been in deep sleep for once, so waking left her thoughts muddled. Not the others'. Fainter, more distant—like a memory. Rubbing her eyes, Iruka followed the scent unconsciously.
"Cough."
Stepping out, discomfort hit. Her shoes sank into the floor, kicking up dust. The old, filthy building's stench never adapted, even with fresh air from open windows. Too dirty and cramped for students, but Iruka ignored it. Honestly, it bothered her, but she forced it down.
Refuse another exam? Fine, rot in that old school building.
Doesn't bother me. You're just sensitive.
The adults who'd dumped them here for disliking them. The students trapped there. No one cared. Caring alone made her the fool. Iruka knew going with the flow was key.
Who's waking people this late?
No one had. She knew that. The minuscule, feeble mana flow only she could sense wasn't meant to wake anyone. But it had disturbed her sleep, so pouting, she trudged toward the scent.
Classroom...?
The mana came from a classroom. Many existed, but they gathered in that one—slightly larger, no other reason. Iruka crept silently, peeking in. Someone was there.
"...Not working well."
Otto was cleaning dust with mana in the classroom. Rubbing at stubborn spots, covered in grime. Iruka couldn't look away. Hours in here? The room smelled surprisingly clean. Then Otto turned, sensing her. Eyes met; guilt flushed her despite innocence, freezing her.
"What? You're up."
What, Iruka? Awake?
Again. Otto overlapped with someone. His mana scent eerily warm and cozy, like that woman.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
Sorry. Noisy, huh? Laundry dried so well today.
So many similarities—speech, mana scent. The adult thing? Other adults lacked it. What connected them to feel so identical?
"...What're you doing this late?"
"Cleaning, as you see."
"...Why?"
"Why? Well..."
What had she said then? Excitement mixed with fear. Would he echo her? Heart pounding.
"It's the space you kids live in."
Our Iruka's living space!
Ah.
Iruka stepped back.
...Why does it feel like this?
Being near warmed her chest, lifted her mood, tugged her lips into a smile. Why? Her sharp mind sought answers, but stalled. Then she saw the mana in his hand—pitiful lump, too sad for magic. Wanting to help, she blurted.
"...Stay still."
Iruka waved her hand. Invisible mana extended, reshaping his into a proper form. A feat to make academy professors sweat. It slowly reformed into a magic circle.
"...That's magic."
Flushed, Iruka spun and fled. Back in bed, she buried herself. Heat rose; she wanted sleep to wash it away, but it lingered.
"...And this too."
Pillow and blanket far plusher than old school gear. Recalling soured her mood. ...Maybe she'd taken too much.
"...Hope it helped."
Next counseling, she'd try harder. Wishing her tweak aided him, Iruka drifted into sweet sleep.
"What the hell was that?"
I stared blankly down the hall where Iruka vanished. She wakes up, sees my pathetic cleaning, fixes it into magic, and leaves? Testing her magic circle on dust, it vanished at ludicrous speed.
"...Thanks for the help, but."
Someone her level could clear this with a gesture...? Was it aid or hazing to work harder? Sighing, I resumed cleaning.