The Upright Mirror
Alrun's eyes, finally visible, trembled with anxiety. When I said it was fine, I didn't mean she was unnecessary. If anything, I pitied her for waiting up so late into the night and simply wanted to spare her more hardship—that was the extent of my kindness.
But seeing her tremble all over from this complete misunderstanding made it clear: she was far more broken than in the original story. Yeah. A discarded kitten's gaze—that described those eyes perfectly.
"Um... you're still really mad at me, aren't you, Professor?"
I'd told her over and over: her father Orlan's scam was his scam. Alrun hadn't done anything wrong, so there wasn't even a pretext for holding a grudge. Yet here she was, twisting it to suit her own narrative despite all evidence to the contrary. Self-loathing through self-contradiction, interpreting everything in the worst possible light. Any normal person would recoil in disgust the moment they heard about it.
Mentally unstable much?
But even so... somehow, I felt like I could see right through to her core. Not through analysis—just instinct.
Because I might be the same way. Unable to accept kindness at face value.
...Yeah. Chronic condition.
Like when Duke Raval offered me a place in his mansion, and I refused, calling myself a parasite who'd just leech off him. Or when Alrun naively offered to pay off my debts, and I scolded her for it despite not even taking care of her own health.
Not taking people at their word—it was a deep-seated rot in my heart that I'd carried for who knows how long.
Of course. Betrayed by family, stripped of noble status, losing everything—Alrun would have to be crazy not to have some mental scars. Hers seemed worse than mine, but we were definitely on the same trajectory.
And from experience, I knew one thing about situations like this: people in agony don't need emotional reassurances. Logical corrections hit closer to home.
"Alrun."
"I'm sorry for coming over... Um... I'll go now..."
"I've never once said I didn't need you."
Her large, sharp eyes blinked.
"No way... B-but you said it was fine..."
"'Fine' means I won't drop dead if a sick girl like you gets out of bed and doesn't rush straight to cooking for me. That's a far cry from saying you're unnecessary, isn't it?"
"........."
"We need to distinguish. You're my student, Alrun. Whether you cook or not, something that trivial won't make you unnecessary. Build some trust in me."
My straightforward facts sliced through her misunderstanding cleanly.
"Sniff..."
She clutched the thin black silk dress, not sobbing loudly but choking back tears.
"—I'm sorry, Professor. I always make a fool of myself in front of you. I know you're right... but lately, it all hits me harder than it should. I don't even know why I'm like this."
It's okay. Nothing weird about it.
"Happens to me sometimes too. So it's not that surprising."
"R-really...?"
"Here."
It wasn't meant to be sweet, but in this world, handkerchiefs were men's necessities. I handed her the one with the Lagrange crest and was about to tell her to wipe her tears when she stared at it blankly, then at me.
"Thank you."
"No need to thank me. Anyone would do this for you."
"Even for a bad person like me...?"
"There you go again. I said no."
"...Then why say it like that?"
Sigh—.
"Do I have to spell it out? When a pretty girl like you acts like this, who wouldn't respond this way?"
Her eyes, which had dulled moments ago, sparked back to life. Guess my offhand justification landed well. I'd learned from Duke Raval once that this was proper romance-fantasy etiquette. Pretty effective, huh?
Anyway, flustered, she instinctively touched the burns covering her body.
"...But I'm so hideous."
"I told you last time, not hideous at all."
And why would it be? I'm the guy who slayed the Demon King, even if he's rotting now. Think I've never seen scars before?
But at my words, vitality flickered through her tears, and a smile bloomed on her lips—chilling just to look at.
She glanced up at me briefly, then averted her eyes.
"...W-well then, Professor."
"Yeah."
"I've come all this way already, and going back now feels awkward. Could I at least set the table for you tonight?"
"It's so late."
"Doesn't matter. I sleep late anyway."
Well, if she was clinging this politely despite my refusals, her resolve must be firm. Pushing back further would be rude at this point.
"Fair warning: I didn't expect company, so it's not cleaned up. Don't assume a single guy's place is tidy... it's a total mess...."
"Pardon the intrusion."
With a sigh, I opened the door.
"Eek—!"
Alrun's teary demeanor vanished as she gawked at the room in horror.
"—What are all these liquor bottles?!"
"Ah."
"They're all strong stuff! At this volume, you're drinking a bottle a day, aren't you...?"
Damn. Right...! Anything but that I could've shown her.
Imagining what she'd think of this mess made my vision blur. Exposing the revered teacher's ugly underbelly. Ugh, embarrassing. Mortifying.
"If you're not collecting them, you need to throw these out...! The room reeks...!"
"I know...!"
"If you knew, at least stack them in a cabinet. Bottles rolling around like corpses—you could step on one at night and get seriously hurt!"
"I won't get hurt!"
"—Ridiculous. How fragile are they? And what's your excuse for keeping them by the bed? Don't tell me the Demon King Slayer is immune to broken glass?"
"Yep."
"Don't lie!! It's still dangerous."
Just then, Alrun flew into a rage, forgetting her promise to cook as she hurriedly cleared the empty bottles. Fine, I appreciated the cleanup, but... damn, she's meticulous. So embarrassing.
"This explains why you always look hungover..."
"...Hah, but I can't help it. I can't sleep without drinking."
She fell silent, staring at me intently where I stood. It wasn't long before she spoke, but that brief pause felt suffocating.
"Even after you retired, was it always like this in that mansion?"
"...Yeah."
"........."
She seemed to sense something but didn't pry further. Instead, she finished her motherly nagging.
"Bet you're full of toxins too. You probably don't clean the bathroom properly. I'll handle that later."
"I don't puke. I hold my liquor well."
"Ah... yeah, with your build, that makes sense."
"Anyway, please skip the bathroom. I'll do it myself."
"...Alright, if you insist. Wait a sec. Apron?"
"There."
Swoosh—.
"Whoa. Why's the apron so huge... it's practically a blanket."
How much time passed? In my unkempt kitchen, she rolled up her sleeves and checked the ingredients.
"......Hoo."
Watching her, I felt an odd unfamiliarity. Someone else in my filthy, private space that no one had ever entered.
...Not something I was used to.
Soon, the savory aroma of boiling pasta filled the air. With the sparse ingredients, she whipped up a proper carbonara and brought it to me.
"...At home, we always made this the day after drinking parties."
"Ooh, Alrun...!"
"Not sure if it'll suit your taste, Professor... but I did my best."
Flawless in look and smell. My stomach rumbled impatiently, urging me to dig in.
Sure enough, as I forked a bite, an exquisite flavor—not from a novice—overwhelmed me.
"......Delicious."
Pure admiration. Alrun flinched in surprise and asked,
"R-really?"
"Why would I lie? They said you were great at housework, and you really are..."
"...I'm glad I could help."
"Of course. Otherwise, I'd have crashed from exhaustion."
Heh heh—.
She brushed back her bangs with a satisfied smile.
"...Thank you for saying that."
"I'm the thankful one. I'm just a professor."
She shook her head side to side—meaning unclear, but probably something only she knew.
"All done, Alrun."
"Hee hee..."
"I'll walk you back now."
And so, after escorting the girl who'd finally cooked for me to her dorm, threatening her to show up to school tomorrow, I returned to my room.
Her condition was still rough, but somehow, she felt easier to handle than the others. Not sure how she'd mesh with them, but at least she listened without making me worry.
...Good. With Alrun on board, we're finally taking the first step.
One was still suspended, but gathering the other seven was huge progress. Just moments ago, I'd been swamped and pissed, but seeing my students improve... it wasn't half bad.
"...Huh?"
And then.
"Sparrow?"
I spotted a sparrow in front of my place. The regular kind—small, dainty, cute. Random, but staring at it, old experience told me what it was.
"—Duke Raval's magic messenger."
It must've been waiting for me. One thing was certain: this was no eavesdropping matter. He only used sparrows for that! And topics like this...
The emperor. Duke Raval's been shielding me from his interest.
I hurriedly scooped it up and headed inside.