10. Demon in a Bottle (23)
10. Demon in a Bottle (23)
Morning assembly ended and the first lecture began, but no one was paying attention to the lesson.
Everyone was too busy trading whispers and hunting for information about the Freshmen Welcome Party scheduled for Saturday.
Notes slipped across tabletops. Secretive murmurs passed between seatmates. Every so often, a burst of laughter or an exclamation loud enough to startle the whole room broke loose.
Professor Gogol of the Literature department carried on teaching as he always did, indifferent to the chaos.
If anything, he remarked to himself that at least fewer people were dozing off than usual.
His excruciatingly dull theory lectures had never attracted much of an audience to begin with.
Rekachev had a reputation as an elite training ground, but it was still a circus acrobatics school.
The students here were a breed that got antsy the moment they had to sit still.
Staring at dry textbook drivel was never going to be popular.
Professor Gogol was the only faculty member who hadn't studied acrobatics himself—a playwright by origin—which only widened the gap between him and his pupils.
Once students reached the upper grades, a few would develop an interest in writing scripts of their own. Those were the only ones Gogol considered real students, and clinging to that thought was how he had endured year after year.
Which was why, even in a first-year class, spotting a student who actually acted like one made him grateful.
The small-framed, silver-haired girl paid no attention to the classmates chattering around her. Her eyes stayed fixed on her book and notebook.
An auditing student, and yet earnest enough to care about learning for its own sake. The pity was that she'd be gone in a month or two.
Karen watched Maya, who hadn't lifted her gaze from her book for a moment, and felt her breath catch with exasperation.
"Even on a day like this, you're unbelievable. Is any of this actually sinking in?"
She was bored to death herself.
All around them, people were buzzing about who to bring as a partner to the welcome party and who'd be performing on the showcase stage, but her one and only friend seemed to have no interest in anything except studying.
After trying to get her attention several times with no response, Karen realized something was off.
No matter how oblivious Maya could be, if you clung to her this persistently she would normally give a token response, the way you'd swat at an annoying fly.
Today, she hadn't acknowledged her even once.
Karen leaned in to study her face and soon let out a deflated sigh.
"What the—you've been asleep the whole time."
Maya hadn't been buried in her book and notes after all.
She'd been nodding off in her seat.
When Karen tapped her on the shoulder, she finally blinked and raised her head.
She stared at Karen with bleary eyes.
"Why'd you wake me?"
"I mean, I've never seen you sleep before.... Did something happen yesterday?"
Maya exhaled something that was either a yawn or a sigh and muttered.
"I was up all night practicing dagger throwing."
"All night? Wait—didn't you say you did the same thing the night before?"
"Right."
"That's insane! You're saying you've pulled two all-nighters in a row?"
She'd raised her voice, but no one paid any attention.
The voices around them were even louder.
"I'm fine. I once read books for four days and nights without sleeping."
"That's not the same as reading. Physical activity's way harder!"
Just then, Professor Gogol finished writing on the board and resumed reading from the textbook.
Maya picked up her pen and began translating the points he stressed into her own shorthand in her notes.
Karen waved a hand in front of her face.
"How are you supposed to learn anything in this state? Come on, let's talk. Okay? Just talk, talk to me. Mayaaa. Mayaaaa."
She drew out the last syllable and clung to her obnoxiously.
Maya let out a small sigh and set her pen down.
"Talk about what?"
"The Partner Invitation Ticket. Have you decided who you're giving yours to?"
"...You?"
"I'll probably give mine to my brother, I guess. He keeps asking me how Professor Phairen's doing. Scuzzy old bachelor. Makes me run spy missions on women. Fine, I'll make him come see for himself in person. Who are you giving yours to?"
Maya paused, then shook her head carefully.
"...I haven't decided yet."
A sly grin spread across Karen's face.
Did this girl think she was fooling anyone?
"Hmm hmm. Want me to guess? It's your Troupe Leader, isn't it?"
Maya's eyes went round and she turned to face her.
"How did you know?"
Adorable. Absolutely adorable.
Karen fought the urge to pinch her pale cheeks.
"How do you think! It's all you ever talk about! Our Troupe Leader this, our Troupe Leader that. Troupe Leader, Troupe Leader, Troupe Leader—nonstop."
Maya felt a little embarrassed.
Had she really talked about him that much?
"I've seen your Troupe Leader before, actually. Right before I ran into you that day. Blond, really good-looking guy, right?"
"Guy?"
Maya's voice wavered slightly at her choice of word.
Karen shrugged.
"Hobbs is over twenty years older than me, so a guy that age is just a guy to me. Anyway, I'm rooting for you. You're way out of his league, but with a face like that, he's decent. Even a ten-year gap is doable for a boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend...."
Maya's voice shrank to a murmur.
Karen, who had only ever seen her speak with poised certainty, let out a laugh at how novel this was.
"Are you gonna ask him to be your partner?"
"The Troupe Leader could say no."
"What? What's that guy's type, anyway?"
Maya had no idea how she'd ended up having this conversation, but she found herself already contemplating an answer to the question.
The Troupe Leader's type in women.
She thought of the women he'd slept with.
Viscountess Bergson and Reina.
Both of them confident, haughty, impeccably put-together types.
"Lively... well-dressed, perfect noblewoman types...."
"...Huh. Definitely not you, then."
Karen scratched the back of her head.
"Lively" was about a million light-years removed from Maya. On top of that, she had zero interest in maintaining her appearance.
That someone so indifferent could have those looks and that skin was practically a scam, though....
"Don't worry. Forget all that. You've still got an edge."
"...Studying?"
Karen's face went blank at that answer.
"No, you idiot. You're pretty."
"Pretty?"
Maya tilted her head.
It didn't compute.
"Beauty's subjective. Different people have different standards. In the Troupe Leader's eyes, I could look ugly and pathetic."
Karen's jaw dropped.
Was she serious right now?
Offended on behalf of teenage girls worldwide, Karen resolved to deliver judgment on Maya.
"Are you making fun of me right now? Don't you ever say that anywhere else. People'll cuss you out for being insufferable. Anyone with eyes can see you're pretty! You little—you little—"
Karen wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pretended to knock her on the head.
Maya, rocked back and forth in her grip, remained expressionless. She was mulling over what Karen had said.
"'Anyone with eyes'... so does that mean... I'd look pretty to the Troupe Leader too?"
That I'd end up friends with a girl who asks these insufferable questions.
Stunned, Karen answered frankly.
"Of course! I guarantee it! He's a guy in his late twenties, right? Any man with all his limbs intact would dance a jig if a girl ten years younger handed him an invitation!"
Maya tried to picture it.
The Troupe Leader, happy to be invited as her partner.
She hoped it would really happen.
A faint smile touched her lips.
"...Thanks."
It was the first time in her life she'd ever confided in someone her own age about something that troubled her.
The first time she'd ever had a long conversation with anyone about something that wasn't an academic debate.
A trivial, pointless chat, and yet it had helped enormously.
Would talking with Ella feel like this too?
"...Huh? Did Maya just thank me? Say that again? I didn't hear it properly!"
"...."
Maya picked up her pen and resumed taking notes.
Professor Gogol threw her a pitiful glance.
"Mayaaa~ say it one more time!"
"Leave me alone."
Maya's voice carried a trace of genuine irritation.
The two finished the morning lecture and ate lunch right away.
They wanted to move to the main lecture hall earlier than everyone else.
Maya wanted to sit at the very front.
Maybe because they'd eaten and come straight over.
The moment she sat down, the exhaustion of two sleepless nights came crashing down all at once.
Maya blinked a few times, then fell asleep right there in the lecture hall chair.
Karen sat down in the seat beside her and stretched.
"Mayaaa~ ugh, even I creep myself out saying it like that. Good god. If the guys in the troupe heard me, they'd have a seizure. Hundred percent."
The coquettish tone she used around Maya wasn't how Karen normally talked.
Inside the troupe, her speech was rough and full of curses.
Her behavior was the same—sprawling with her legs wide open anywhere, sticking out her belly to scratch it, acting like a middle-aged man.
It wasn't that she had no interest in living as a "woman."
But in front of the troupe members she spent ninety percent of her life with, suddenly revealing her feminine side on her own felt like an unfair thing to do to them.
'If I acted too tempting, the latrine would reek of night-blooming cereus all night. I'm sparing you guys by not developing my chest, you hear!'
Tossing out crass jokes like that was her way of trying to make things less awkward.
Hobbs found it sort of sad and told her there were other paths—she could leave anytime if she wanted—but she wasn't looking for that.
She wanted to live as an acrobat.
She liked the Papael Circus and all her colleagues there.
Still, there was a part of her that couldn't shake the desire to express the "woman" inside her that she couldn't quite dismiss.
Except somehow she'd ended up becoming afraid of women.
Specifically, girls her own age.
All she'd wanted was one female friend.
Just one friend she could open her heart to.
She looked at Maya.
Hard to read, and somehow easier to be around because of it.
Did Maya think of her as a friend the way she did?
The handbag slipped from Maya's fingers and dropped.
She'd lost the strength in her grip while dozing.
Seriously, if someone next to her didn't help out, her daily life would fall apart completely.
As she was grumbling to herself and gathering Maya's things, someone spoke to her.
"Are you Miss Maya's friend?"
The voice came from the podium.
Standing there was a blond man in his late twenties, dressed in a black suit and black cape.
Maya recognized him immediately.
"The good-looking guy!"
"Pardon?"
"Ah, no—you're, uh, Troupe Leader Wonderstein, right?"
"Yes. And you must be Miss Karen?"
"You, you know who I am?"
"Of course. Miss Maya has told me about you."
At his words, a flush rose to Karen's cheeks.
"Maya did? What did she say?"
"That your hair is red."
"..."
"That she saw your build and assumed you were a boy."
"..."
This little brat.
Karen felt a powerful urge to knock Maya on the head.
She restrained herself because Wonderstein was right there.
"Should I wake Maya?"
"No. Let her be. She looks exhausted."
As lunch break wound down, students gradually began flocking into the main lecture hall.
Karen got in line at the entrance to pick up Maya's snack for her.
She pressed the cold drink she'd collected against Maya's cheek.
The chill made her rub her eyes and open them.
"...What time is it?"
"It's time. The Troupe Leader's already here."
Just then, a stir went through the entrance.
A blue-haired girl in a crisp white blazer and skirt strode in at the head of a cluster of students, her steps prim and composed.
It was Clara, the current top-ranked senior.