Weekly Event

"Wait, what the fuck? Where did Sunday go?"

"Why is it Monday the second I open my eyes?!"

Monday kicked off with the grief-stricken howls of desperate students. From the very first period of homeroom, morale in the Upper Class plummeted straight through the floor.

Of course, even a hardcore veteran who had spent a fully productive weekend couldn't entirely dodge the soul-crushing lethargy peculiar to Monday mornings, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so I sat at my desk looking slightly more glum than usual.

"Good morning, Orknodi."

"Good morning, Hestia."

"Did you visit the mountains over the weekend?"

"Nope. Didn't have any sunscreen."

"You should definitely go sometime. Boulders suddenly jumped up and attacked me. It was pretty fun."

"Oh."

We've agreed to call those things golems, you know.

"I'm amazed you brought it back alive."

"Right? It took quite a bit of work to keep it breathing."

Hestia rummaged around inside her uniform blouse and produced a stone the size of her palm.

"Hey. Open your eyes."

"...?"

"Wake up, or I'll smash you to dust."

The instant Hestia projected a sliver of murderous intent, the stone twitched. Then, unfolding its corners like a transforming robot, it sprouted stubby arms and legs before standing upright upon her palm.

"A mini-golem!"

"I chipped away everything I could without damaging its core, and it ended up like this."

Normally, when a human encounters a golem, they agonize over how they are going to survive. Hestia, on the other hand, had agonized over how to keep the golem alive. A Chapter Boss truly operated on an entirely different wavelength.

"Here. It's yours."

"This little guy? To me?"

"You like rocks, don't you?"

I mean, yes, I liked rocks, but this little bastard's eyes had been glued to my pouch for the past minute. Inside that pouch, of course, were my precious Stat Stones.

"I don't like rocks that move."

"Really? Then should I snap its limbs so it can't move anymore?"

The mini-golem shivered like an aspen leaf in a gale.

"Why don't you just raise it yourself, Hestia?"

"Me? Something this weak?"

"It's only weak because it grew up snacking on ordinary roadside pebbles. Golems get stronger if you feed them expensive, durable minerals."

If most monsters were like Pokémon—only evolving forward without ever regressing—golems were more like Digimon. As long as the core remained intact, you could reset them back into a baby mini-golem and raise them completely from scratch.

"Maybe I should smash away all the useless rock and find some hardened iron to feed it instead."

Once again, the mini-golem trembled pitifully, looking like an abused puppy cowering before its master.

"They say a golem core becomes extremely brittle if it doesn't have any surrounding mineral shell."

"Is that so? Lucky you, then. Consider your life saved by Orknodi."

"..."

"Hey. Turn back into a rock so I can put you in my pocket."

Bowing its little head in feeble gratitude toward me, the mini-golem pulled in its limbs and reverted back into an unassuming pebble. Back into the inner breast pocket of Hestia's uniform it went. I could only pray the poor thing counted as male. If it were a male golem, it might at least consider living right against a girl's chest to be a stroke of good fortune. Not that golems had genders, mind you.

Has Hestia's affection rating climbed that high already?

For her to offer me a pet first thing in the morning meant her affinity had to be extraordinarily high.

It was all well and good, but having absolutely no friends was a bit depressing. I made a mental note to help her make plenty of new friends in the future.

Except for the pirate currently slamming a fishy, giant king crab leg right onto his desk first thing in the morning!

"Gyahahat! Have you lot ever tasted the meat of a Giant King Crab? This stuff is the absolute bomb!"

"Did you visit the beach, Jigoku?"

"Delicious bastards, every last one of 'em! Down in the south, you can barely find king crabs over three meters, but here at the Academy, five-meter monsters swarm all over the shore! Ain't this place total paradise?"

"I'm surprised you managed to hunt one. It couldn't have been easy cracking the carapace of a five-meter Giant King Crab with revolver shots."

"Oh, that?"

Jigoku unslung the school bag from his back and hauled out a rock the size of the entire bag.

"I smashed its shell open with this rock, and it cracked like an egg!"

"..."

Why on earth is this guy carrying around a boulder in his backpack?

"Now I get why Orknodi carries stones everywhere! It's ridiculously handy! If there's a monster you can't bash to death with a rock, all you gotta ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do is ask yourself if you brought enough weight! Gyahahat!"

"To think stones had such an application... As expected, there was a profound reason Orknodi carried them all along..."

Hearing Northern Grand Duchess Irene muttering in the corner gave me an unexpected pang of guilt. Seeing me hoard stones for the sake of Stat Stones had apparently triggered a massive wave of misconceptions, inspiring people to awaken to the joy of rock collecting.

"Whoa. Are rocks actually incredible weapons?"

"Right? You never have to worry about the edge chipping like a blade."

"Did you see that mini-golem just now? That was adorable."

"Ah, maybe I should pick up a pet rock too."

"Idiot, that's not a pet rock, that's a pet golem."

"Who knows? If I pamper it and tell it it's pretty, maybe it'll sprout arms and legs too! I've even picked out a name. I'm calling it Elizastone."

...I had nothing to do with this. None of this was my fault.

"I told you to stop hoarding so many rocks wherever you go," Isabelle muttered, chiding me.

"I'm reflecting on my actions..."

I buried my head in shame. Just as I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was sinking into the unwarranted guilt of an accidental criminal, salvation arrived in the form of a colossal stone golem striding in for homeroom.

"First period on Monday! Welcome to a delightful homeroom! You haven't already forgotten my face just because you only see me once in a while, have you, class? It's your First-Year Head of Year, Mahabharata!"

"...Professor, why did you show up looking like a stone golem today?"

"Because you all seemed to be having such a lively discussion about rocks. I wondered if that's what the kids are into these days."

He hadn't come to save me; he was just another victim added to the list. I truly couldn't show my face anymore.

With a soft pop, Professor Mahabharata the shapeshifter shrunk back down to human proportions. While he was a rather wicked professor who loved startling his students, setting aside his mischievous streak, he was easily in the top ten percent of the Academy's faculty—entirely free of personality scandals or lethal homework quotas.

"Alright, settle down, everyone. I understand the Monday blues, but I have a momentous announcement today. Anyone who fails to hear this will regret it dearly."

Having barely survived an extraordinary first week at Gift Academy, the Upper Class students tensed up instantly and focused their full attention on him.

"This momentous announcement concerns a special event that visits the Academy every single week: the Weekly Event!"

This was the sole reason homeroom existed in the first place. And the commencement of Weekly Events marked the true beginning of Academy life.

"During severe water shortages, we trigger the Weekly Event: Drought, and when cosmic phases destabilize, we issue a Weekly Event: Meteor Advisory."

Andersen, the head of the Western Aristocrat Alliance and an expert at picking the absolute worst courses, raised his hand.

"Why must such absurd Weekly Events exist in this Academy at all?"

"Because it brings joy to the Headmaster."

"..."

In an Academy ruled by an ancient dragon—completely beyond the jurisdiction of any nation's Ministry of Education or the International Academic Federation—the Dragon Principal's whim was absolute law! If the Headmaster felt like doing it, there was nothing anyone could say.

"For your information, this week is Weekly Event: Heavy Rain Week. Please exercise extreme caution during outdoor lectures and any activities in low-lying areas."

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠moment his words ended, a roaring deluge began lashing against the windows.

Startled, the students sitting by the windows turned their heads. Sheets of rain poured down as if to submerge the entire world, falling so thick and torrential that even the trees right outside the classroom were swallowed in a gray blur.

"No way. Isn't our second-period lecture, 'How to Cast Holy Magic Without Faith,' scheduled to take place outdoors?!"

"Lord Andersen, is there any chance the class will be cancelled?"

"...It would be wiser to secure raincoats. Everyone, prepare to stop by the school store."

The students sank into deep despair. Amidst a sea of miserable faces, I was the only one grinning from ear to ear.

"It seems our little lady is rather thrilled by the downpour."

"Are you really that happy about it, Orknodi?"

"When it rains, clothes get soaked!"

"What's good about that? Getting drenched in the rain just makes your clothes cling and your body feel heavy and..."

Isabelle cut herself off mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing into slits. Her gaze sharpened until it rivaled Giselle's squint, drilling straight through me as if scrutinizing my soul.

"Orknodi, you're a girl. Why do you always fixate on things like some pervert?"

"Gwahaha! What's the harm in paying attention to that? This great one fully supports this kid's commendable taste! As the saying goes, a woman's clothes soaked by the rain are always worth the view!"

As Son Ocheon bellowed his confession of taste for all to hear, the female students glared at him from all directions as if gazing upon a heap of rotting garbage. Among them, even Arcadia cast a thoroughly disgusted look his way before pivoting her icy glare toward me.

"Di. Were you entertaining such shameless thoughts as well?"

"Not really? Not at all? Definitely not!"

"You little squirt! Are you cutting ties with me right now?!"

Good little girls don't know anything about naughty things. My mind was as pure as driven snow.