The Fantastique Quartet
"Today's assignment is to research a famous wizard and present as a group."
No, this isn't even a university liberal arts class—why are they assigning group projects at the Academy?
I'd hit a massive roadblock in this unexpected situation. Was there ever a more grueling trial than this?
"It'll be easiest if the students form groups freely. Four per group should fit perfectly."
Ah, there it was. The trial, right in front of me.
Couldn't the teacher just assign the groups? Or go by seat numbers—anything, please.
[Is that really such a big deal?]
'You can't understand unless you've been through it yourself.'
And a group of four meant I needed three actual friends besides me? Making one true friend in life is hard enough—three was an impossible feat.
[Since when did group project partners become 'true friends' in life?]
'Ahem. You just don't know the human world well, Goddess.'
Anyway, group projects were infamous trials for all sorts of reasons. Especially if even one slacker or villain slipped in—the whole group suffered. Truly diabolical.
"Take some time to form your groups and write the names on the blackboard."
Free time to pick partners. Kids jumped from their seats, approaching friends and pitching teams, buzzing around.
And there I sat, unmoving, steadfast. Along with Rachel beside me.
"Hey, loser. Why're you just sitting there? No one to ask to team up with?"
Ugh. A bone-chilling direct hit.
I couldn't just nod, so I fired back with a counter-question.
"You're sitting too."
"Idiot. I don't need to bother moving—others will come to me. You think I'd be like you, a total loser?"
For someone saying that, no one was approaching Rachel. What good was a pretty face if her personality scared everyone off?
Of course, I only thought it—didn't say it out loud. Not because I was scared of her.
Names filled the blackboard one by one. Teams formed while we sat side by side, staring straight ahead.
"······."
A foreboding thought flashed through my mind. What if it ended up just me and Rachel?
Heartbreaking scenario just thinking about it. And the odds weren't low.
Then there were the opposites. Yulia Grace up front was the prime example.
"Yulia! Team up with us! What do you say?"
"Ah, sorry. I'm already in a group."
"Oh? Nothing's on the board yet... Bummer."
It didn't end there. Offers kept coming. Every single formed group had pitched to her. Beyond just being pretty and popular—this showed she got along with the whole class, no enemies.
Watching from behind soured my mood for no reason.
No. I'm keeping distance to hide my phantom thief identity. Not sad at all. Really.
[Spare me the pity.]
'Don't pity me.'
Another example: someone like me or Rachel, unpopular... Found one.
The blonde girl by the back door. Sharon Honsia read her book with a blank expression. Unshaken even now. She was peculiar.
Whispers nearby.
"We're three now, right? Who for the last spot?"
"The ones left... Rachel?"
Rachel's name first—surprising. She wasn't overlooked; her presence was too strong.
The others freaked at her name.
"Dude... Rachel's a no-go..."
"She's scary. Pick someone else."
Did they think they were being quiet? Their words rang clear. Goddess power boost?
[I told you my powers weaken outside night.]
'Right.'
They were just careless.
Tremble tremble.
'Uh...'
Rachel had heard too—her fist shook at that exact timing.
I'd done nothing wrong, but felt awkward anyway.
"Anyone else?"
"Sharon's still free, looks like."
"Ah, Sharon... Hmm..."
Hesitation this time. Unlike Rachel, Sharon had no real issues. Quiet was just her style.
But Sharon was hard to approach in her own way. Untouchable aura, like she lived in another world.
"No one more... normal?"
Picky bunch.
With those two out, few options left. Except me, of course.
My turn. Honestly, I wasn't a bad pick. No Rachel-level attitude, no Sharon remoteness. Just your average loner. Bland, sure, but safe. No better fits left.
I perked up, listening.
"No one left?"
"For real? All filled?"
"Yeah. Just those two."
What?!
I nearly shot up. I'm here! Candidate right here!
Check properly! Why treat me like I'm invisible...?
"Pfft."
Rachel's mocking snicker sealed it. She'd heard and laughed to rub it in.
[...Hang in there.]
'Not helping...'
How to describe this self-loathing? No words fit perfectly.
Was I doomed to be the forgotten dark templar, unpicked and unremembered?
Head down in despair—then footsteps.
"Kro. Got a team yet?"
"...Huh?"
I snapped up. Yulia stood there, smiling.
"If not, wanna join mine?"
I nodded dumbly, mouth agape.
She beamed genuinely.
"Phew! Worried you'd joined another."
No way that'd happen. No one else remembered me.
Heaven-sent angel. White wings seemed to sprout behind her.
Even Rachel looked stunned, face twisted—hadn't seen this plot twist coming.
'Heh heh. See? Unlike you, I got picked! By the class's top girl, Yulia!'
[Pathetic.]
'Say I'm true to myself.'
Gloom vanished; grin spread wide.
I asked Yulia, "Who else in our group?"
"No one yet?"
"...Huh?"
"Just us two. Gotta find two more."
Wait—the kids said only two left.
That meant...
Group 8
Yulia Grace
Kro Morris
Rachel Scarlet
Sharon Honsia
"Haha..."
Just staring at the list cracked me up.
Perfect combo. Class idol and three rejects. Archetypes covered: model student, loner, delinquent, ice princess.
God, why this trial?
[Hm. Perfect harem!]
'Ah...'
Her cheer hit me—right, she's a perv who loves this stuff.
Ridiculous, but what could I do? Had to roll with it.
"Everyone, let's do our best."
Yulia's greeting as leader got:
"Tch. Projects are such a pain."
From grumbling Rachel, and
"······."
From silent Sharon.
Our future looked bleak already.