A Childhood Friend Who Wakes You Up?

There was no shortage of Traits worth copying. Narrow the field to people I actually stood a chance with, though, and you were left with the girls I'd already gotten to know. Kissing a man was something I simply could not picture.

So Bohn Zaborg's Trait was a hard pass.

Which made this chance encounter with Arsha a genuine stroke of luck.

"Well... if you insist..."

Arsha scuffed at the ground with the toe of her boot, her face flushed as red as a ripe apple. It was the complete opposite of the icy, razor-edged presence she usually projected, and the contrast was almost criminal — pure, lethal gap moe. If her fans ever saw her like this, they'd probably nosebleed themselves into an early grave. I wasn't far behind them.

If I can copy Arsha's Trait, a B-Rank item is a cheap price to pay.

The reward from this dungeon was an accessory called Knight's Promise. Among the drops from the instant dungeon we'd just cleared — the Ownerless Jungle — it ranked as a fairly high-rarity piece.

Knight's Promise boosted Strength and Spirit by a full five points each. For anyone on a warrior track, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was the kind of piece you could comfortably carry all the way into the late game. A five-point stat swing wasn't trivial, and accessories that raised stats this directly were rare enough that its value sat comfortably high.

It just didn't mesh with the thief build I'd chosen. Something like a Bat Brooch or a Dawn's Kiss would have been ideal — but even a veteran like me had no way to rig the loot table.

When the drop didn't match your build, you generally had two options.

One: sell it at a shop or the auction house and convert it into capital. Offloading a high-rank item brought in a fat stack of coin, which you could then spend on the gear or skill books you actually needed, or on enhancement materials. It was a proactive way to power up your character, and I'd used it plenty of times myself.

The other: gift it to a companion.

In Legend Route, companions were a critical piece of the puzzle. Sure, a hardcore veteran could solo all the way to endgame content, but efficient clears meant knowing when and how to use your party. Dungeon success or failure often hinged on how you built that composition.

The Ownerless Jungle was a dungeon I could have soloed just fine — but not every dungeon was like that. Difficulty only climbed as the chapters progressed. Raising companions properly in advance was the rational play.

This time, I went with the latter. Two reasons. First, Knight's Promise was an outstanding match for a warrior like Arsha. Second, it was a chance to close the distance between us.

We left the dungeon together. A faint awkwardness hung in the air between us.

"W-w-well then! Let's get you to the infirmary!"

There was no real reason for her to be flustered, but Arsha stammered anyway.

"I can make it to the infirmary on my own. There's something I'd like to ask of you, Miss Arsha."

"A-ask...?"

"Would you mind cleaning my dormitory while I'm gone?"

"You want me to wait in your dorm? Alone?"

"Wouldn't that be more efficient?"

I leaned in slightly as I said it, angling toward her. Arsha flinched and jerked back.

Yeah. Johann's face was a cheat code. Flash a sunny smile, close the distance, and the girls absolutely lost it. Fucking lookism...

"Ugh... F-fine."

"You know where Seven Star Hall is, right? The key's under the flowerpot by the door."

I sent Arsha on ahead to the dorm. I didn't have a choice — I couldn't actually go to the infirmary.

"Guess I'll have to play the injured left hand for a while."

I opened and closed my left hand, testing it. No pain. Because it wasn't injured.

One More Time, one of the Hidden Pieces. I'd picked it up relatively recently. For a Hidden Piece, its performance was modest.

The attacks it could block were limited to physical ones, and the defensive threshold was on the low side, so community consensus rated it as underwhelming.

Honestly, it was the kind of item you could take or leave — but I was glad I'd grabbed it. If this were still a game, I probably wouldn't have bothered. This, however, was reality.

"Using the injury as an excuse to stay physically close to Arsha... I've got about a week."

My goal right now was simple.

Copy Arsha's Trait within seven days.

Seven Star Hall.

The Academy's valedictorian-exclusive dormitory was larger and more beautiful than Blossom Sun Hall, the one she used. The difference in size wasn't dramatic, but the gap between the top-ranked dorm and the runner-up's was unmistakable. That was almost certainly by design. The Academy had planted incentives for competition in every corner of the campus.

The door creaked open. She stepped inside, and what spread out before her was a corridor as lavish as anything in a noble manor.

Come to think of it... this is the first time I've ever set foot in a man's room.

As the young lady of a noble house, she had naturally never had occasion to visit a room a man used alone. The moment that thought landed, her whole body went stiff.

What am I getting so worked up about? It's not as if I'm calling on a great noble house, and it's certainly not an audience with His Majesty the King.

Arsha made a conscious effort to relax, passed through the entrance hall, and headed into the interior proper.

For all that tension, the inside was surprisingly ordinary. Of course, "ordinary" still meant luxurious enough that a commoner wouldn't dare look at it — that much came as default. What Arsha meant by ordinary was that it wasn't so different from her own dormitory.

"So a man's room isn't all that different from mine."

Snacks scattered across the table were about the only real distinction. Arsha was the type who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠took tidying seriously. She straightened the table in short order, then surveyed the rest of the room with a hawk's eye.

"Well. Doesn't look like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there's much for me to clean."

It was as if someone had already given the place a thorough going-over. Deflated, Arsha perched on the sofa.

"That guy. Making me do a maid's work. I've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠never met a commoner with so little sense in my life."

Throwing yourself recklessly in front of someone else was equally at odds with common sense. Everyone shouted about justice with their mouths, but when the real thing arrived, how many people would actually do it? Even being generous, you could count them on one hand.

At the moment she'd thought it was over — that instant of mortal peril — he had appeared out of nowhere, like the wind, and saved her. His face rose in her mind again. The composure she'd been holding onto crumbled, and her cheeks flushed red once more.

Nngh! Stop thinking about him!

She shook her head hard, trying to fling the image of his face away.

"Right. Just do the work. He gave me that pendant, so I'll do what I owe him for it. Until his hand heals."

Arsha nodded firmly, as if to lock the thought in place.

The alarm clock shrilled. Arsha's body snapped upright like a blade leaving its sheath. She checked the time: five in the morning.

An hour earlier than usual.

She climbed out of bed and washed her face. The cold water hit her skin and her mind came sharply awake. Arsha had kept a disciplined routine ever since her days in the family household; rising before dawn was nothing new to her.

On a normal morning, getting up this early would have meant training. That had been the family routine for as long as she could remember. Working up a sweat before breakfast made for a clean start to the day, and the quiet of dawn was an unmatched hour for fundamentals.

Today, though, her movements were different. Instead of the training clothes that clung to her frame, she changed into a pale green outing dress.

"I'd better hurry."

Arsha left her dormitory with her steps aimed at Seven Star Hall. From Blossom Sun Hall to Seven Star Hall was about ten minutes at a run.

She made it in five. And after a sprint like that, her breathing hadn't even shifted. It was a glimpse of the formidable stamina she carried.

The key was under the flowerpot in the front yard. Arsha entered the manor without a moment's hesitation, yesterday's conversation with Johann turning over in her mind.

Strangely, the more she talked with him, the more she felt herself being worn down. Johann Baker possessed a mysterious talent for steamrolling other people's refusals. Whether that talent came from his easygoing nature or from his face, she couldn't tell.

What mattered to Arsha was the simple fact that she had accepted his absurd proposal.

Right. This is all because of the item.

She rationalized it to herself that way and stepped into the kitchen. Johann would still be asleep. The steady rhythm of breathing from his room confirmed it.

Arsha moved toward his door as carefully as she could. Had she ever in her life crept around like a thief, padding along on cat's feet? Johann Baker had a habit of making her do things she had never done before, one after another.

A small sound of breathing came from the bed. The blanket rose and fell, lightly, with each inhale and exhale. The person sleeping there was, of course, Johann.

At this rate, it feels like I've already married the guy.

Pointless fantasies kept shoving their way in. It was all those fairy tales she'd read as a child. Arsha shook her head and approached him.

Keep your face under control. If I look flustered, he'll look down on me. She put on her most prim expression and opened her mouth.

"W-wake up! It's morning! How long are you planning to just lie there snoring?!"