Chapter 19
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Everyone Trips
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"You might trip. Everyone trips sometimes."
The path to the classroom.
A little ways behind.
Click-clack.
Click-clack.
Precarious footsteps.
'Isn't that dangerous?'
I glanced back.
Elma was coming.
Anxious eyes.
Hands flailing at empty air.
"......"
Our eyes met.
'Help me.'
That's what her eyes seemed to say.
But there were too many eyes watching.
In the end, she just pursed her lips and pretended otherwise.
Her tiny shoulders hunched up.
All her dignity was gone.
"Hey, check that out."
"She's seriously small."
"Look at those heels. Doing circus tricks?"
Whispers.
The students' gazes stabbed into Elma.
Eyes like they were watching a monkey at the zoo.
Open curiosity.
Last week's incident.
Her 'true form' revealed amid the explosion.
Rumors spread fast.
'The genius professor is a pint-sized gnome under a meter tall.'
'She used magic to fake it.'
'Her shitty personality was all inferiority complex.'
SNS, communities, messenger chats—
Everywhere was plastered with her story.
Elma's ears flushed bright red.
She clenched her fists tight and quickened her steps.
Click-clack, click-clack, wobble.
"Ah...!"
She swayed.
Her small body tilted sharply.
"Careful...!"
I reached out a hand.
But Elma was faster.
Thud—she grabbed the wall and barely regained her balance.
"......"
'Don't come.'
Her eyes said it all.
Helping her would just make it more pathetic.
Elma cleared her throat once.
As if nothing had happened.
She started walking again.
She looked so small and unsteady.
Guilt.
My heart ached.
The humiliation she was enduring.
It all stemmed from my mistake, in the end.
The classroom.
The noise died down quickly.
Swoosh—
Dozens of eyes.
All turned to the podium at once.
"......"
Elma stood behind the podium.
Even in 30cm heels, only her forehead was visible.
"Ahem."
Elma climbed onto the footrest.
Only then did her upper body come into view.
Goth-style dress.
Pigtails.
Heavy makeup.
Traces of her desperate efforts to look mature and dignified.
"Class, let's begin."
She put all her force into her voice.
Struggling to maintain her usual sharp, prickly tone.
"The mana circuit design homework I announced last time—did everyone do it?"
Silence.
The students checked each other's eyes instead of answering.
Pfft.
A snicker leaked out from somewhere.
Elma's eyebrow twitched.
"......Who was that just now?"
She scanned the classroom.
A piercing, fierce gaze.
The kind that used to freeze everyone solid.
But not anymore.
"......"
No one stepped forward.
It wasn't fear—it was a game of chicken.
Some even smirked openly and played dumb.
'That little squirt gets mad, so what.'
Their thoughts were plain to see.
Elma's hand trembled.
The hand gripping the attendance sheet went pale.
She had to hold it in.
Exploding here would just play into their hands.
"......Let's proceed with the lesson."
Elma turned around.
She picked up the chalk toward the blackboard.
The problem hit here too.
The blackboard was too high.
On tiptoes.
Elma stood on her tippy-toes.
Her calf muscles quivered.
Screeech, screeeeech.
The chalk scraped the board.
Arm stretched to its limit.
But the writing was crooked and sagging downward.
'Mana Dynamics Third Law'
Less like writing, more like worms.
"Pfft..."
"Hey, zoom in and snap it."
"This is insane. Look at her hopping."
Whispers.
Loud enough for me to hear.
For Elma, it must have been like thunder.
Dwarven hearing is sharper than humans'.
Elma's shoulders went rigid.
Snap.
The chalk broke.
"......"
She slowly turned around.
Her face was ashen.
"The one who laughed just now."
Low, gravelly voice.
"Stand up."
Silence.
No one stood.
They just brazenly alternated looks between the board and Elma.
"Professor, the writing's hard to see."
"Can't you write it higher?"
A returning student asked with a sly grin.
Blatant mockery.
"Whoa, that guy's nuts."
"But honestly, kinda funny."
"Her trying is cute."
Laughter spread like a plague.
The classroom filled with faint sneers.
Tears welled in Elma's eyes.
She bit her lip hard.
Hard enough to draw blood.
'Don't cry. Please.'
I prayed silently.
If she cried here, it was over.
Her pride.
All the honor she'd built up.
Thankfully, class ended.
She endured to the bitter end amid the curiosity and mockery.
'Good...'
I sighed inwardly in relief.
"......Today's class ends here."
Elma forced the words out.
Then she tried to flee down from the podium.
Crash!
Too hasty, maybe.
She missed the floor.
Her towering heel snagged.
"Kyaa!"
A pathetic scream.
Elma tumbled to the floor.
Papers flew, dust rose.
"...!"
"Eh...?"
Like cold water dumped on them.
The classroom's laughter vanished.
Too wretched a sight.
Even the mocking students flinched.
I shot out of my seat.
"Professor!"
I tried to run over.
But Elma lifted her head.
Through her messy hair, her eyes gleamed with venom.
"Don't come!"
She yelled.
Thrust her palm toward me.
Desperate flailing.
She didn't want to show this miserable state.
"..."
With trembling hands, she kicked off her shoes.
Barefoot.
Tiny white feet hit the floor.
Shoes clutched in one hand.
She bolted out without looking back.
Tap-tap-tap—
Tiny footsteps faded down the hall.
"Whoa... what was that...?"
"Dude, that was harsh."
"She tripped herself."
"Compared to her usual crap."
"Should've been nicer."
Murmurs started up again.
I chewed my lip.
My fists clenched white-knuckled.
'Damn bastards.'
I wanted to scream at their sneers.
That she's not the person they think.
That she's endured tough times with grit.
But that wasn't important now.
I hurried out the door.
My woman.
My wife was crying.
I raced down the stairs.
My heart pounded like mad.
Breath burned in my throat, but I couldn't stop.
Her final expression was burned into my mind.
Those eyes about to shatter any second.
Basement level 3.
The lab.
Door shut tight.
"Elma!"
Bang-bang. I pounded the door.
"Elma! I know you're in there! Open the door!"
No answer.
Just faint sounds from inside.
Muffled sobs like a wounded animal.
"If you don't open, I'll break it down!"
Not a threat.
I meant it.
I gathered mana.
Gripped the doorknob hard.
Then.
Click.
The lock disengaged.
The door cracked open a bit.
Just like that first time I saw her.
I carefully pushed it open and entered.
"......"
Dark lab.
Lights off.
In the corner.
Under the desk.
A small shadow huddled there.
Shoes scattered haphazardly,
Goth dress covered in dust.
"......Elma."
I called her name and approached.
She flinched, trembling.
"Don't come..."
Cracked voice.
"Don't look... Please..."
Face buried in her knees.
She muttered softly.
"I don't want my husband seeing me like this..."
Her desire to hide her pain.
It hurt me even more.
I knelt on the floor.
Crawled under the desk.
In the darkness, that small trembling body.
I pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Show me even if you hate it. I'm your husband."
"Hic...!"
The dam she'd held back burst.
"Waaah—!"
Like a child.
No, even more heartbreaking than a child.
Elma started bawling her eyes out.
"So mean.... Hic, so mean...! What did I do wrong!"
Tiny fists pounded my chest.
It didn't hurt.
My chest just felt heavy.
Her sorrow transmitted straight through.
"I tried so hard..."
Her tearful rant poured out.
"Studied so damn hard... Pulled all-nighters on research and papers... Even developed new magic..."
The genius professor title.
The blood and sweat she'd poured into earning it.
"But... all that's left is mockery..."
She gripped my shirt tight.
"They don't see my effort... Just think I'm a small, funny dwarf... A retard who can't even write on the board properly...!"
"Elma..."
"I too... Hic, I wanted pretty clothes like everyone else..."
Elma sniffled as she spoke.
Spilling out all her pent-up grievances.
"At the department store... Hic, all those tall, pretty mannequins... Not a single one fits me... Makes me look ridiculous when I try..."
90cm dwarf.
A body type that couldn't dream of off-the-rack clothes.
The misery of lurking in the kids' section.
Her stubborn goth look.
Not just taste.
Clothes that hid her freakish proportions.
The armor that let her look 'adult' at least a little.
"Why was I even born like this? Looking like a freak... Hic..."
Her body shook violently.
I hugged her deeper, tighter.
Tried to cover her trembling with my body heat.
"Who says that? Who thinks of Elma like that."
I slowly stroked her back.
"In my eyes, you're the coolest professor in the world."
"Liar..."
"It's true. You saw this morning. Striding so confidently in those sky-high heels. How cool was that."
"I tripped.... Total embarrassment..."
"You might trip. Everyone trips sometimes."
I wiped her eyes with my thumb.
Swollen eyes.
Tear-streaked cheeks dotted with freckles.
"And when you kicked off the shoes and ran? Honestly shocked at the speed. Thought you were a track star."
Pfft.
Elma's lips twitched.
"Don't tease..."
"Not teasing. You've got charm piled up like a mountain."
I bonked my forehead against hers.
"Pretty."
"......"
"Cute."
"......"
"Rich."
"That's not important!"
"It is. And above all..."
I brought my lips to her ear.
"You're my wife."
"......"
Elma's sobs quieted.
Just sniffles left.
She looked up at me with wet eyes.
Her almond-colored irises reflected me.
"Husband's an idiot."
"Yeah. An idiot who only has eyes for Elma."
"What... So sappy."
"Just facts."
"Always..."
She buried her face in my chest.
Sniff sniff.
Smelling me, finding comfort.
We stayed like that a long time.
Under the dark, cramped desk.
Until our heartbeats synced.
"......Husband."
How much time passed.
Elma mumbled my name.
Her voice calmer now.
"Yeah."
"Don't you have next class...?"
Ah.
Right.
Mandatory elective and liberal arts today.
"Yeah. I do."
"......Go."
Elma tried to push me away.
But her hands had no strength.
A woman whose words and actions didn't match.
"Can't have a professor's husband skipping. Gotta manage that GPA..."
Her conscience as a professor.
But her hands wouldn't let go of my shirt.
Gripping so tight her knuckles went white.
Don't go.
Don't leave me alone.
Her fingers screamed it.
I chuckled.
No need to think.
"Not going."
"......Why?"
"Wife's hurting like this—what good's class."
I shifted position.
Plopped right down on the floor, legs stretched.
Sat her comfy on my lap.
"Self-declared day off today. Gotta nurse my wife."
"......Idiot."
"Yeah. If I get an F, you'll take responsibility, right."
"Hmph... I'll pull every string for an A+."
Elma sniffled nasally in reply.
Leaned her head on my chest.
Her face finally relaxed.
"......Thanks."
A tiny whisper.
She wrapped her arms around my waist.
Short arms couldn't fully encircle.
But enough to share warmth.
"Hug me tighter..."
Her spoiled plea.
I wrapped both arms around her small body.
To shield her from the wounds.
We shared our warmth like that.
For a good long while.