The Long-Awaited Progress -3-
Clara had insisted.
That no one would find her personal history the least bit interesting.
She'd even hesitated to bring it up as a conversation topic.
But Rohan had listened more seriously than any government clerk ever could.
And for the first time in her life, Clara had spilled far more than she'd ever intended—like she was throwing a childish tantrum.
Somehow, whenever she talked with Rohan, her mouth just wouldn't stay shut.
"Hm."
Rohan sank into deep thought after hearing her story.
What could he be thinking?
"…."
Clara sipped her drink through the straw, stealing glances at him while savoring the sweetness, her curiosity piqued.
Then her name was called.
"Clara."
"Y-Yes… Ah! U-Um, yeah?"
"If speaking casually feels uncomfortable, no need to force it. Mix it up however it comes out naturally—doesn't matter to me."
It didn't seem like the main point, but Rohan brushed past it lightly anyway.
She nodded vigorously.
Clara had been dying to know what Rohan would say after all that pondering.
She bobbed her twin tails like a wagging tail to signal got it, and only then did he continue.
"The dorm room the academy gave me has hot water, and it doesn't get cold. The washing machine's a bit small-capacity-wise, but it works fine."
Sounds luxurious.
Clara listened quietly to his voice.
"I head out at dawn on weekdays and don't come back till work's done, so the room's basically empty?"
"…?"
"Wanna use it to shower? Crash for a bit if you're sleepy, or just do laundry and go—whatever."
"!!!"
Rohan said it like it was no big deal, utterly nonchalant, but Clara froze as realization hit her like a thunderbolt.
Her eyes went wide as saucers.
"It's a guy's room, so it might feel kinda gross, but I clean it regularly."
"St-Still…."
"Weather hasn't warmed up yet—showering in cold water and sleeping on a chilly floor? That's no good."
Rohan ended with a question that wasn't really a question, seeking agreement.
Then he grabbed the bread knife to slice the muffin they'd bought with their drinks.
Shwick.
The soft muffin fell neatly in front of Clara.
The girl stared at it for a moment before looking up.
"…Rohan oppa."
"Yeah."
"Can I ask one thing?"
"Ask two or three—whatever you want."
Clara fixed him with an intensely serious gaze, her eyes seeming to pierce right through him.
Her voice dropped slightly, none of her usual helpless shrinking.
A chill sharpness and wariness lingered beneath her eyes.
Rohan could see it.
"…Why are you being this nice to me?"
It was a fair question. Unexplained kindness could feel suspicious.
A situation too good to be true? Better to doubt it.
How would Rohan explain?
He crossed his arms, pondered briefly, then chuckled.
"Looking back, yeah, it sounds weird even to me. Got ahead of myself."
"…."
"If I were you, I'd turn it down. Telling someone to just use a guy's place freely out of nowhere? Unsettling, right?"
His frank admission made Clara blink.
The subtle edge in her demeanor softened.
"Obviously no malicious intent or… nah, saying that would sound even weirder."
"…."
Rohan cleared his throat with a hem-hem and chugged the rest of his drink.
Clara swallowed hard from the tension.
Creak.
Arms still crossed, Rohan tapped his fingers before leaning forward.
His voice carried weight, like he'd decided this was the only way.
"Clara. Would you believe me without proof? I'll be straight with you."
"If, if you're being honest…."
She welcomed it, actually.
The girl was confident she could spot human malice.
She signaled it was okay, and Rohan reached out.
Gently grasping one of her slender fingers.
"I wanna get closer to you, Clara."
"Eek!?"
"Might sound off-putting… but knowing you're holed up in some freezing room? Made me butt in too much. Sorry if it's overwhelming."
"I-It's fineit'sfineit'sfineit'sfine… R-Really…."
At his apology, the girl mumbled, losing her composure.
The sincerity in Rohan's regret made her feel like she was the criminal getting flustered.
Her wariness evaporated the instant he touched her finger.
Right now, Clara's face burned so hot it might explode.
Her mind spun in the heat.
….
Back in Zeño, when an instructor had grabbed her wrist to beat her—it felt nothing like this.
Then, her body had instinctively moved to counter.
Now? Just one finger held, and she couldn't budge.
Same in Academy City.
Countless guys she'd never met had approached pretending to be friendly, trying to touch her.
Always just annoyance, hoping they'd leave her game alone.
But with Rohan? Totally different.
Conclusion: No counter possible.
No past experience matched this.
"Hm, what's a simple example…."
Rohan looked at the quiet, head-down Clara and shared his honest impression.
"Dumping a guy like me on a cold floor versus you alone in some icy hellhole? Totally different picture."
"H-Hyaah…."
"Anyway, just think about it. Use it anytime if you need—got it?"
The girl affirmed with silence, not a nod.
Rohan apologized again and shifted topics.
Clara's finger was still in his hand.
"You shared your story today, so how about mine? If you wanna hear it, that is."
She finally twitched and reacted.
"I-I do…!"
"Thanks. Almost felt awkward there."
Rohan rummaged in his outer pocket with his free hand, pulling out his Orion Academy student ID.
Handed it to her.
"Like it says there, my homeland's the Southern Ruins' Remnant. Not from a superpower."
"Southern? Southern Ruins' Remnant…?"
Her eyes widened in shock at the text on the ID.
Zeño had taught her about foreign countries, including how the south fell.
And that survivors among its masses were few.
The photos she'd seen were pure horror.
"On paper, I'm alone. Reality too, honestly."
"M-Me too… exactly the same…!"
"Clara and I have a lot in common, huh."
"Hee…."
Being orphans without even a grave to visit wasn't funny.
But she smiled anyway.
For the first time, this grim situation brought a smile to Clara's face.
"Hm, what else should I share…."
"A-Anything's fine…."
"Might be boring?"
Rohan grinned, quoting a line she'd said earlier.
Clara suddenly understood why he'd responded that way back then.
Gathering courage, she spoke up.
"O-Oppa! It's not about fun—it's about knowing each other, right…?"
"True. You're right, Clara."
The sweet air between them felt impenetrable to outsiders.
But someone had to intrude.
"Customers. We're closing the dining area now…."
A salesman's apologetic smile.
The beastkin part-timer, ears drooping from exhaustion, said it with genuine regret. Rohan and Clara had no choice but to pack up.
"Huuu…."
Back in her tiny room, Clara exhaled hot breath that clashed with the chill space.
The heat lingering in her body hadn't faded.
In her arms, the macarons Rohan had foisted on her as a "gift."
She clutched them tight and flopped onto the bed.
….
She wondered what stories he might've shared if they'd talked longer.
The sensation of his touch on her finger seemed to linger.
— I wanna get closer to you, Clara.
What does that mean?
Staring at the ceiling, she replayed the ticklish moment on loop.
— Dumping a guy like me on a cold floor versus you alone in some icy hellhole? Totally different picture.
Thinking of that brought an easy answer.
Probably just his personality—pure goodwill at the core.
No trace of the malice or ill intent she'd encountered endlessly in life.
But.
If asked whether that answer satisfied her soul? Well….
Vrrr—!
A small vibration.
With some anticipation, Clara quickly checked her smartphone.
Her lips curled into a grin without her realizing.
Clara fired off a reply at lightspeed.
Tomorrow…
She'd have to wait until tomorrow afternoon to see Rohan again.
The girl rolled around on her narrow bed, fantasies blooming like clouds.
What face should she make when they met?
What to say about his dorm offer?
"…Ah!"
A way to learn more about Rohan popped into her head.
Not digging into shady Zeño-style motives, but researching Southern life and traditions.
Tap.
Once a superpower, so search results flooded in.
She scrolled, reading about the south's features.
"!?"
Her finger stopped on one part.
A nation that lost its past prosperity, left with only desolation, thus called the Remnant. Solarea, which once dominated the south, like Tigrova and several other countries, practiced polygamy…
The girl bolted upright in bed, eyes glued to the screen.