12. The Melancholy of a Certain Protagonist
12. The Melancholy of a Certain Protagonist
A grating creak.
The front door protested as she stepped inside. It hadn't been oiled properly, and opening it took real effort.
The dormitory wasn't large. Two stories at most, and the first floor was nothing but a barren living room and a kitchen—not a single bedroom in sight.
At least there weren't any cobwebs or dust.
'...That's not exactly a good thing.'
The living room was called a living room, but in practice it was a storage unit.
Papers, books, papers, books, papers. Every visible surface bore the traces of study and written work.
"......"
A soft flutter.
She picked one up. A treatise on economic theory. Beside it, financial operation reports from other academies.
Naturally, there were no sensitive Grandis Academy documents or internal reports here. Only things no one could object to.
But the sheer volume was overwhelming, swallowing most of the common space.
"Student Rus, would you like a drink? It's an elixir."
"......Yes."
The living room was the better part of the place. The kitchen was worse.
Cooking utensils that looked long abandoned, a mana-stone heating device that had broken down, only the refrigeration magic tool apparently still in use. How did he even feed himself?
And inside that refrigerator, nothing but elixirs. She drank the one Adam handed her and felt the distinctive mana signature of an elixir, but—
'The quality is terrible.'
The lowest-grade stuff, nothing like what mages or knights ordinarily consumed. For someone of Adam's 1st Rank, it was probably sufficient.
But when she factored in the perpetual exhaustion and the dark circles carved into his face, that logic fell apart.
Even 1st or 2nd Ranks with money used high-grade elixirs. They ignored the core mana-restoration function and chased the supplementary effects instead—vitality, fatigue recovery. Plenty of administration-track students who had no use for elixirs still drank mid-grade ones just to fight off exhaustion.
The only person at Grandis Academy likely to touch this stuff was some administration student who hadn't landed a scholarship yet—someone poor.
And the Finance Director was drinking it. Adam. He'd even stocked the refrigeration tool full of it.
'Why?'
It wasn't as if he lacked money. So why live like this? Rus could not understand it at all.
In her previous life, Adam had wanted for nothing. He wasn't extravagant by nature, never spent lavishly, so his daily life had been modest—but he'd never gone without.
And when it came to supporting Rus, he had spared no expense. Her first sword, her protective gear, the private instructors he'd arranged—all of it had been Adam's money.
She'd wept into her pillow so many nights, promising herself she wouldn't grow used to that generosity, wouldn't take it for granted, would always remember Adam as her benefactor. The Rus of today couldn't exist without him. Adam's presence in her life was a miracle.
So why—why were you—
Living like this?
"I apologize for contacting you so late. We had some matters on our end as well......"
Adam was saying something, but Rus wasn't listening.
She'd never imagined he was living in a place like this, in this condition. When she heard he'd moved to a different dormitory, she'd vaguely assumed he was somewhere nicer, more luxurious. She'd meant to find out why that had changed, too.
But this was something else entirely.
And seeing it, looking at Adam again, fresh details forced themselves into her awareness.
"The fault is partly mine, but that damn Student Council President Kassandra......"
His clothes were threadbare. They looked washed every day, but they were rumpled everywhere, the hems frayed and shabby. And had she ever seen him wear anything else?
His hair was brittle, lifeless. It hadn't been great before, but it had never been this dull. A sure sign of chronic fatigue, chronic stress, or some other toll on his body.
The dark circles and the deep-set exhaustion in his eyes never faded. The first time she'd seen him at the entrance exam site, she'd chalked it up to a rough work schedule. Adam had always been busy juggling duties and study. But this constant, deepening weariness that wouldn't lift—that was something else entirely.
'The only time Adam didn't look exhausted...'
Was after the Chairwoman had died, after the academy had fallen, after he'd already been corrupted.
And now? She hadn't even been at the academy for half a year, and Adam looked like he might drop dead from overwork tomorrow.
Why?
For what?
"Still, as a gesture of apology, I've prepared......"
A secluded place reachable only by winding alleys. A dilapidated, aging dormitory. Rooms maintained just barely enough to keep the dust off. A deprived existence. Chronic fatigue.
Things she hadn't noticed—or hadn't let herself dwell on—during chance meetings on the street or at exams.
Things that became unmistakable the moment she set foot in this dormitory.
"Anyway, so......"
"Food."
"Sorry?"
"What about food?"
"For the meal, I was planning to go to a restaurant shortly. As part of my apology, a rather decent—"
"Not that. I mean you, Director."
"......You mean me?"
"What do you normally eat?"
You couldn't cook in this kitchen. The refrigeration tool held nothing but elixirs—what ingredients would he even use?
The heating device hadn't been touched in ages, and there wasn't a single trace of anyone having eaten anything.
So?
"Ah...... I keep it simple, normally."
"Simple?"
"Boiled potatoes, boiled eggs, that sort of thing. They're filling and nutritious. The grocer up ahead sells them pre-boiled, and academy staff get a discount on foodstuffs. It's actually cheaper to buy them boiled than to buy raw potatoes and cook them yourself."
"Ha."
"Student Rus?"
Boiled potatoes. Boiled eggs.
No. That wasn't it.
Adam, you—
"You like fruit. Especially apples."
"How did you know that? Well, I do like them."
"And you like meat. Steak and the like."
"I mean, yes... I do."
"Then why?"
"Well, they're expensive, aren't they? I'm being frugal. Frugality."
Frugality? Was he going to call all of this—this scene, this lifestyle—frugality?
And the fountain pen clipped to his chest: the cheapest thing on the shelf at any general store. She knew, because she'd once saved up to buy Adam a fountain pen as a gift.
It was absurd. An involuntary, hollow laugh escaped her.
"Student Rus?"
"......Aren't you treated reasonably well, as Finance Director? Why are you living in a place like this?"
So she asked him directly. The question came out in a burst of temper, but it wasn't unreasonable.
No matter how she thought about it, she couldn't understand why a senior faculty member at the level of Finance Director was living in a rundown hovel like this.
Adam's expression shifted slightly. He glanced around the shabby interior, as if seeing it anew.
"Hm, does it really look that bad?"
"Awful."
"Tch. I got told the same thing last time. It really is a bit much, I suppose."
......Last time? Someone else had been here and commented on the state of the place?
Before she could ask, Adam continued with an awkward look.
"Still, if I'm satisfied with it, isn't that what matters?"
"Satisfied? Honestly? With this kind of life?"
"'This kind of' stings a little, but... yes."
"Look at this dormitory. What's on the second floor?"
"My room, a washroom, and a spare room."
"And it's just as bare, just as empty, just as desolate up there."
"......Hm."
"People can't be satisfied in a place like this."
It was maddening. If Adam were truly poor, that would be one thing. But he held the position of Finance Director—his pay had to be substantial. She couldn't fathom why he lived like this.
Where did all that salary go?
"Are you underpaid?"
"Student Rus, that's my private business, and I don't think it's appropriate for a student to ask a faculty member—"
"I'm asking because I'm curious. Really, genuinely curious."
"I'm paid enough to live on."
Right. Paid enough to live on, and so he lived like this? In a place like this, in a state like this, looking like that?
Perpetually steeped in fatigue, subsisting on boiled potatoes, drinking bottom-tier elixirs—that was his life?
Rus's eyes grew bloodshot. She looked at the Adam in front of her and saw the old Adam superimposed over him.
This had happened once before. During the uninhabited island midterm, she'd glimpsed the corrupted Adam overlaid on the present one. Back then, it had only dredged up trauma.
But now.
"Student Rus? What's wrong all of a sudden?"
—Rus, are you okay? Why are you crying?
"I'm not."
"Uh, would you like something to eat? I, uh, have some leftover boiled potatoes..."
—Want something to eat? Should we go heavy on the salt for once, since it's been a while? As luck would have it, the academy's got salt to spare.
"I said I'm not."
"Student Rus? Student?"
—So don't cry, Rus. I'm right here.
"......I'm not."
Tears didn't come. Rus was too worn down for that. She'd been through too much.
But more than that, her feelings, her attachments—they'd sunk deep, settling into the depths... accumulating.
Standing before a bewildered Adam, thrown off by her abrupt reaction.
Rus looked at him with hollow eyes.
"I've decided."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm moving in here."
"No, wait. What?"
Adam froze, even his formal register slipping away.
Rus lifted her gaze to his lips, chapped from exhaustion. That was what happened when all you ate was boiled potatoes.
Now that she knew the reality of how Adam was living, she couldn't possibly leave it alone.
Never mind the reason why he lived like this.
She wanted to give back as much as she'd received.
"I'll handle the cleaning, the laundry, and the cooking. I'm good at it. I'm used to it."
"That's not the point! How can a male student just move into faculty housing—"
"This isn't real faculty housing, and the route here is hard to follow. Nobody will find out."
"That's not what I—!!"
Adam was panicking. Of course he was. Rus had been just as flustered the first time Adam had suggested they live together.
What had Adam said back then? She remembered every conversation they'd ever had. From the moment he'd called her the protagonist—she remembered all of it.
......Yes. Because it was Adam.
She had no choice but to use the approach that worked best on him.
"I'll pay rent."
"Haah... Student Rus, are you trying to buy me with money right now?"
"Three times the standard rate."
"I understand that successfully negotiating your tuition at the entrance exam site may have given you some confidence, but you're underestimating me."
"Five times."
"No matter how much you offer, there are lines—"
"Ten times."
"......Do you have any idea how much money that is?"
"Of course."
She had money to rot. She simply hadn't spent it because she needed to keep it in reserve for emergencies.
The sum she'd made from the rock salt mine had been substantial. Enough to pay rent at this rate and still live with Adam for the rest of her life.
She'd deposited it at the Imperial Bank under her identity as a 6th Rank swordswoman, so the interest was only accumulating—the principal wasn't going anywhere. The Imperial Bank boasted such ironclad security and trust that it maintained a vault directly adjacent to the Imperial Capital, reserved exclusively for the major trading companies and those of 6th Rank or higher.
"Still not enough? Twenty times."
"You know how cheap academy dormitory rent is. It's all for student welfare. At twenty times the rate, you could live somewhere splendid all the way through graduation."
"Thirty times."
"Student Rus! Are you really going to push this unreasonably?!"
"Fifty times."
"Which room would you like?"
"Second floor. The one right next to yours, Director."
"I'll have it cleaned and ready immediately. Take your time bringing your things!"
"......All right."
Adam really was weak to money. His fixation on it seemed even stronger than before.
Well, if he was living like this in the name of frugality, he must have pressing financial needs.
'And if that's not the reason...'
If Adam, the Finance Director, was being forced into this life against his will—
There weren't many people who could oppress him and hold his salary over his head.
'......The Chairwoman.'
She knew it was a stretch. But any reasonable superior wouldn't let a subordinate live in a place like this.
And working him to the point of that kind of exhaustion—that was unquestionably the Chairwoman's fault. The old Adam had always been buried in work, after all.
Granted, Adam had fallen after the Chairwoman's death, but that could have been gaslighting or any number of other causes.
Her hostility toward the Chairwoman blazing, Rus fixed a glare on Adam's back as he hurried upstairs to ready the room.
Threadbare clothes. A back that belonged to someone who hadn't eaten properly, hadn't rested properly, had done nothing but work.
But from now on, that would change.
'I'm repaying Adam's kindness.'
This was nothing more than settling the debt she owed him from her academy days. The academy's fall, the corrupted Adam... she would deal with all of that separately.
She simply couldn't ignore the kindness she'd received.
And if she repaid it, maybe she'd finally stop agonizing over Adam the way she had been. Maybe once the weight of that debt was gone, she could face him as a true adversary.
And beyond that...
"......I'll need to go grocery shopping."
Even if the dormitory wasn't the same, the act of sharing a home with Adam, of cooking for him—it stirred memories and nostalgia she'd long buried.
For the first time in a very long time... Rus smiled.
A faint smile, so small no one would have noticed even if they'd been watching.
But it was the first smile from a broken regressor.