Just Delete the Midterms Already #8
Somehow the midterm season had felt absurdly short, and before I knew it, grades day had arrived.
I checked the swordsmanship lecture scores first—and there, right at the top of the list, sat my name in bold, unmistakable letters.
Lucian Theodore von Deodore —
"…Wow."
A thoroughly idiotic little gasp slipped out of me, but standing there staring at it, I simply couldn't hold it in.
Who would have thought my name would be sitting at the very top instead of the very bottom? Was this what they called a human triumph?
My classmates spotted my name on the highest line as well and immediately swarmed me with congratulations.
"Hey! Lucian! Congrats!!"
"Lucian! Congratulations!! Kyaaaa!"
Grrraaagh—.
A flood of celebratory hands poured in from every direction, leaving my hair and clothes in complete disarray.
It was their way of congratulating the guy who, until recently, had been a total washout in practical combat and had suddenly snagged first place—and of working off the tiny spark of jealousy that came with it, all through roughhousing and teasing.
So I just laughed and took their congratulations in stride.
"Huh. For real? I'm not last?"
Meanwhile, Raoul had started from the bottom looking for his own name, only to discover he was third from last rather than dead last—and his reaction was a drawn-out Whaaaat?! of pure astonishment.
Apparently a few of the classmates who'd gone after me had put on an even more pitiful showing than he had. Or maybe Raoul's swordsmanship was still thoroughly mediocre, but his determination had been genuine enough that Professor Staffen had thrown him a few extra points for effort.
"Yo, Lucian. You were actually right. I'm not last! Kahaha! I was so sure I was gonna be dead last!"
"I told you. Swordsmanship matters, but they'll weigh how badly you want it just as heavily. Sure, the technical score is still the biggest chunk, but for you and the people around your level, the swordsmanship itself is pretty much the same—so form and attitude are what split the grades."
"…Hearing that from your mouth of all people's is doing something weird to my mood."
"If it bothers you that much, why not become a swordsmanship genius like me?"
Raoul answered with a theatrical Kugh! and a reaction so over-the-top it was practically an art form.
Whatever else you could say about him, when it came to reactions he was a genius among geniuses. That was exactly why, even if his teasing got a little excessive sometimes, I never once considered cutting him off—and why we still hung around like this.
"As for the other lectures… well, not much point even looking, is there?"
Starting with history and moving through philosophy, administration, the humanities, and everything else besides—any course that wasn't split into theory and practical the way swordsmanship and magic studies were had my name planted firmly at the very top.
I couldn't exactly claim with a straight face that I hadn't used my ability at all, but in the end that ability was just another kind of talent of mine, so it wasn't as if it was a problem. And it wasn't like I'd spent every day loafing around and only coasted through the exams on pure ability, either.
Naturally, from Raoul's point of view the whole thing was nothing short of absurd. Taking first place in moderation would have been one thing—but sweeping every single lecture like this was something else entirely.
"Whoa, this bastard. First in everything? Hey, are you literally married to your books or what? Planning a wedding? How do you even take first in every single lecture? Doesn't your head hurt? Don't you get sick of it?"
Every once in a while, yes, the thought that it was tedious did cross my mind. I was human too—when something genuinely bored me, I wanted nothing more than to drop it on the spot. But once I reminded myself that all of it would help me later in life, it became bearable enough.
More than that, the studying I was doing here… honestly, after everything I'd clawed through in my previous life—elementary, middle, and high school, university, every certification under the sun, even the civil service exams—I was already tempered to the point that this felt almost cute by comparison.
That left only the magic studies grades to check.
For reference, magic in this world wasn't simply a matter of channeling mana to cast spells. It was also an extremely precise academic discipline that fused mathematics and physics. Because of that, the theoretical side was considered even more important than in swordsmanship, and so I'd figured that even if I couldn't actually manifest magic, I ought to at least land somewhere in the middle of the pack.
At least, that was before Senior Charlotte made it so I could actually use magic.
Unfortunately, the name at the very top wasn't mine. And that made sense—Professor Raven's exam question had been the Ice Orb spell. The magic I'd manifested, however, had been something completely different. No matter how spectacular a spell I'd put on display, if I hadn't produced the answer that matched the problem as stated, of course points were going to get docked.
On top of that, if Professor Raven hadn't thrown up a defensive barrier ahead of time, my classmates nearby could easily have been caught in the blast and seriously hurt. Expecting a stellar score under those circumstances would have been stranger still.
"…Still sitting pretty high up, though. Aside from magic, I've basically swept the first-year Literary Division."
"Watching you is actually making me feel like I should try harder myself."
"If only so I never have to listen to your smug nonsense again, I'm aiming for at least the middle of the pack!"
And with that, Raoul chanted the eternally unfulfillable spell known as I start studying today!
I gave it a few days at best. Midterms were over, and until finals rolled around we'd all slip right back into our usual routines. If studying were that easy, every dog and cow on the street would be declaring they were going to hit the books.
I told him I'd cheer him on since he was my friend, but without a real motive or a proper catalyst, it was going to be rough. I'd suffered plenty in my previous life, and I had a clear goal of turning all of this into a weapon so I could live without a single worry later—that was what had carried me this far. And lately, one more reason had been added to the list.
"I heard the news. First place in everything except magic studies, right?"
The moment I finished checking every last grade and stepped out into the corridor, Rie came toward me as if she'd been waiting. Ordinarily I would have slipped away to the sparring grounds at once to avoid our classmates' eyes—but right now most of them were too absorbed in their own scores to pay us any attention at all, so we could talk a little more freely.
"Swordsmanship and magic studies were the only ones where the practical side was a disaster. Everything else, first place was a given. You already know that, Rie. When it comes to theory, I'm the best, no contest."
"I know. That's exactly why I can even call you my rival. More than that, though—I'm so happy. I honestly didn't think you'd actually take first in swordsmanship. The practical portion is the most important part of that exam, after all."
"It's all thanks to you. Honestly, what could I have managed on my own? Rie, you never gave up on me. You stuck with me to the end—that's the only reason a guy who was booked solid for last place in swordsmanship could sit the exam and come out on top."
"Hearing you say that means a lot. But no matter how hard I worked, without your own effort it never would have been possible. It must have been exhausting, but you kept up so well."
"Right? I kept up, and I really did work hard, didn't I?"
"Of course."
"…Then, just for a little while—just a tiny little while—could you maybe lift the chocolate ban?"
Someone might say that was hardly a request worth making with such deadly seriousness. But to me, right now, this was a matter of genuine importance. I'd been running my brain into the ground all through exam season and still hadn't managed to eat even half the chocolate I normally did. Honestly, I wanted to down about ten cups of hot chocolate on the spot, and I was only holding myself back through sheer force of will.
"…."
"Please, Rie. Just one week. No—three days. Just three days of eating freely. Could you?"
"…All right. I'm a little worried the mindset I've finally gotten settled might start to slip, but… a reasonable reward for the best possible results does seem fair. All right. Then three days…."
She said three days—but was she truly only going to allow me three days of eating and drinking as I pleased?
Lady Rie, if you're going to bestow your mercy, couldn't you bestow just a little more? I humbly beg of you!
I looked at her with eyes full of that silent plea, and she flinched with a little eep!
On the outside she was doing her best to look thoroughly cold and composed, but I knew Rie well. If I made myself look as pitiful as humanly possible and begged please, she almost always caved. It was something no one else could even dream of pulling off—something only I could do.
"Th-that look is banned. Don't look at me like that."
"…."
"I said don't!"
"… …."
"F-fine! Fine! One week! Happy?! I'll allow it for one week, so stop staring at me like that! Right now!!"
So those Puss-in-Boots eyes worked no matter where you went, did they?
I banished the gaze that even I found deeply oppressive when I caught it in a mirror, then drove the nail in hard: no take-backs. You said it, so you have to keep your word. Got it? When it came to chocolate intake, I needed absolute certainty before I could eat to my heart's content.
Meanwhile, Rie cleared her throat with a little ahem and smoothed her slightly ruffled composure back into place. Then she stepped a little closer and spoke in a voice that was just the tiniest bit proud.
"Lucian. Thanks to you, I took first in the administration exam."
"Really? Wait—then does that mean…?"
"Yes. First in every lecture. Overall first place among the first-year Martial Division for the midterms."
"…That's our academy genius for you. I couldn't even manage first in magic studies. Rie, is there anything you can't do? Swordsmanship, magic, and even administration, which you said you weren't confident in—first place across the board…."
"I'd like to be bad at something every once in a while, but it just doesn't seem to work out."
Ah. So this was the exact feeling Raoul had been talking about. Something vaguely irritating, and yet just ambiguous enough that you couldn't quite call it out. I hadn't noticed it when I was the one doing it—but being on the receiving end, the mood was surprisingly hard to describe.
"Are you just going to stand there staring?"
"Hm?"
"I said I took first in every lecture. And I coached you up to first in swordsmanship on top of that. You're not seriously planning to brush all of that off with a 'congrats,' a 'well done,' and a 'thank you,' are you?"
"Uh, uh…."
If she'd still been just a girl who was a friend, maybe. But Rie had long since left that stage behind. She wasn't simply a girlfriend—we were people who had already indulged in each other's bodies and sworn never to let go of each other's hands. Meaning if I did anything even slightly disappointing here, I'd be getting scratched raw for months. Years, even.
I wasn't some clueless fool, and I certainly wasn't a eunuch. The smartest move was to figure out what this woman wanted as fast as possible and give it to her.
First, since classmates or other students could wander over at any moment, I got us out of there. I took her hand and ran all the way to the innermost sparring ground—the one the two of us used most often.
The instant we arrived, I pulled her into my arms without a second thought. Wasn't it said that one action was worth more than a hundred spoken thank yous, I like yous, and I love yous?
"…Are you planning to just hold me? You're not, right?"
"Absolutely not. I'm just holding you for a second."
Judging by her answer, this had clearly been pretty close to the right one. Which meant there was no need to hesitate or read the room any further—I could launch straight into an affectionate offensive.
I gave the woman in my arms a gentle squeeze, then surged toward her warm, soft lips.
Honestly, I'd been wondering when I'd next get the chance to kiss Rie like this. Things had moved so suddenly that night that I'd felt a little shy afterward, and we'd been so busy since then that there hadn't been an opportunity to take our time and show affection like this. And apparently I hadn't been the only one feeling the lack.
Rie was up on her tiptoes, clutching even my hands so I couldn't pull away first, pouring herself into the kiss with complete focus.
"…Lucian."
When that thoroughly sweet kiss finally ended, Rie—her face flushed a deep red—carefully opened her mouth. I looked at her as if to ask what was wrong, and her face only grew redder. She kept dodging my gaze and yet refused to let go of my hand, clinging as if she desperately wanted something.
I was about to ask her again what was going on when—
"Um… th-this weekend. Do you want to… g-go out with me?"
"…Huh?"
"I want to… spend some time with you."