Each to Their Own Dorm
After class they had gathered, finished the cleaning, and even gotten trapped in the labyrinth. By the time they made it out, evening had already fallen. They went straight to the assistant, handed over the lost items, and wrapped up their report.
"Ghosts will band together now and then, you know. Good thing I left that warning."
"..."
He'd given them a warning, after all. If they'd gotten out safely, what was the problem? — or so his tone implied. Sugar and Ryly fixed him with a long, pointed stare, and he must have felt at least a twinge of guilt, because he offered to handle the rooms they hadn't managed to clean themselves.
"But looking at the map, there were rooms you couldn't actually enter. What were those?"
"Huh? Those... what were they again. They're probably spaces the design required. Stille has multiple overlapping dimensions, so I imagine they left some as extras."
They'd heard some fascinating things along the way. And so their prison-cleaning duty came to an end.
Today, Sugar and Ryly had successfully earned sixty merit points!
"Wooow!"
On top of that, they had just finished moving flowerpots at the herbology professor's request.
Today's Merit Points: +30
Sugar giggled her way into the shower. After sending Ian and Leon off first, she and Ryly had finished moving the flowerpots, eaten dinner together, and parted ways.
Now all that remained was to wash up and crawl into bed, and the day's work would be done. What a long fifth day of enrollment it had been.
"Ahh... that's the stuff..."
Letting out a groan that sounded more like a middle-aged man's, Sugar stood under the shower spray and suddenly thought of the baths. The public baths supposedly down in the basement. She hadn't been even once yet.
Maybe she should go sometime?
It would be perfect if Ian were there with her. A shame they couldn't go together.
But Ian can't use the public baths anywhere, can she...
The spaces here were divided by gender, and Ian was crossdressing as a man. A little unfortunate. She was someone who loved soaking in a bath.
Every room had a shower, but they were really just the most basic stalls. What's more, she was using a double room now. Would she be all right?
"What? You're sharing a room with Leon?"
"Haha... yeah. That's how it worked out."
Still, Leon wasn't a bad kid. Sugar recalled the way he'd carried himself in the underground prison corridor earlier.
"That's... something I have to do."
There was still goodness left in that heart, she was sure of it. To step forward like that in a situation where he could have pretended not to notice and run — in a situation where he had no idea what was coming — that was proof of a just nature. He'd taken one step closer to Sugar's expectations.
Sharing a room with a guy like that was at least somewhat reassuring. Ian might have a delicate, pretty face, but she was still a "man." Who would dare question the Chunja's gender? As long as no one actually saw that overwhelming chest of hers, there shouldn't be a problem.
...It'll be fine, right?
Sugar started having weird thoughts, then let out an ugh and shook her head. Those were rude imaginings to have about either of them.
After finishing her shower with all manner of thoughts swirling through her head, Sugar used magic to shake the water from her body and put on her nightclothes.
Next came tool-maintenance time.
First, she polished her staff. She wiped it once with a soft cloth, then again with a cloth dampened in a specialized solution, and set it aside for a moment. In the meantime, she cleaned her headband. She wore it every day, so it was constantly exposed to dust — a few brisk wipes with a cloth did the trick. Once that was done, she returned to the staff and rubbed it with a fresh cloth, wiping away any solution that hadn't been absorbed.
And voilà — a gleaming staff!
Sugar pressed her cheek against it, then set it on the nightstand. She placed the headband beside it. They were all precious things Ryly had given her. So, so precious.
After gazing at them for a long while, she lay down on the bed and snapped her fingers to put out the light.
...I wonder if Ryly's going to sleep now too.
Beneath a window where moonlight filtered in, lying quietly in her dark single room, all sorts of thoughts drifted through her mind. Most of them concerned a certain blond young man.
The joint magic they'd cast together after so long had succeeded without a hitch, and that left her in an especially good mood. Magic, by its nature, produced a kind of high the more you used it. Mana surged fiercely through the body, heat rose, the senses sharpened from the stimulation. Naturally, you ended up feeling a sort of... oooh.
It was quite different from pleasure. Of course, there were those who interpreted it as such, the way battle maniacs found ecstasy in a fight. This world had as many tastes and ways of living as it had people. Sugar herself wasn't the type who preferred fighting, but magic used together with Ryly was something she liked.
Joint magic they were attempting for the first time in years. They hadn't needed to practice their coordination beforehand, hadn't needed words — just holding hands had been enough to make it work, and that was... how to put it...
"..."
Sugar hugged the spare pillow tight.
Her heart felt strange. It was like someone was taking a hammer to it — pounding and pounding. And then she would melt, going all soft and formless.
His image kept rising unbidden in her mind. That soft-yet-fresh scent of his, mixed with cologne. That low voice that had been tormenting her ears more and more lately. His breath. Those thick arms that always pulled her in even as he grumbled. The unhurried way his hand would stroke her waist. The way his Adam's apple stood out when he spoke or drank water.
...Wait. Something's off.
Everything she was thinking of was... somehow. It was all physical.
No, no.
This is all gaslighting...
Everyone around her kept calling her "Lewd Sugar." It made her start wondering — is it true? Am I lewd? Those mean people. Ian too, and Ryly too. Huh? She didn't think about any of that. They were the lewd ones, so that was all they saw.
Sugar grumbled inwardly even as she hugged the pillow tighter. It was just a man's body. The body of a little brother who'd grown up sturdy and strong. There was no need to be conscious of it at all. It wasn't dirty.
I'm not lewd. I'm normal. She kept repeating it to herself.
Even as she did, her hands were kneading her own thighs. She'd gotten into the habit of stroking them now and then because she liked the feel of her stockings, and it had stuck. But right now they were bare, smooth, stocking-less legs. Not as interesting, but still soft and squishy enough to be worth touching.
Why didn't I get any taller, and all the extra just piled up here...
Ian had shot right up. She was a bit taller than the average adult woman. Did crossdressing as a man make you taller? No, wait — Ian didn't just have the height, she also had the...
Sugar thought of Ione, who would be in the Holy City. She pictured that ripe silhouette the white Saintess robes couldn't quite conceal.
Is the Saint's bloodline just superior in every way?
As her thoughts drifted a little off the rails, drowsiness began to settle in. The idle fantasies and musings that come before sleep. Above a nodding Sugar, the starry sky stretched far away.
Around the time Sugar's day was drawing to a close, something else was unfolding in the men's dormitory.
It started simply enough: he couldn't sleep. His head was a mess for any number of reasons, so Ryly headed to the dorm lounge for a light cup of tea.
A cozy lounge, plush carpet underfoot, a warm and muted yellow glow.
"..."
"..."
And there he spotted a combo he really didn't want to get involved with.
He wasn't on bad terms with one of them. And the other... well. He didn't particularly like the guy, but there was no need to be hostile. But what on earth were they doing?
The two of them were sitting at the same table, just... quietly. Not saying a word. Simply sitting there. Was this some kind of ritual? Was this the sort of thing people connected to the Saint did?
Ryly's brow furrowed slightly. Cup in hand, he was about to backstep right out of there.
"R-Ryly."
Ah. He'd been spotted. Ian, whose eyes had met his, immediately started gesturing.
Is she telling me to join them right now?
That look was like a messenger from hell. How irreverent a thought to have about the Chunja, but there it was.
When they were out as a group, they were perfectly pleasant friends. But the bottomless silence, the awkwardness, of being left alone with that friend... that was his relationship with Ian. When someone you had that kind of terrifying dynamic with was actively summoning you onto a bed of nails, couldn't you call them a messenger from hell? And he wasn't even close with Leon to begin with.
Ryly wasn't particularly good with words on a normal day. He bantered with Sugar now and then, but that was Sugar-exclusive. In general, he was a mage who treated silence as an aesthetic. But the Chunja was waving at him so earnestly. What choice did he have? She was already plenty worried about the double-room situation. He ought to keep her company, at least a little.
"...Hah."
He walked over to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. A bizarre combination: two men and one woman dressed as a man.
"How'd you two end up here...?"
When he asked, gently, Ian's face brightened.
"Ah! Well! I was going to rest here a bit before heading to the room! And I ran right into Leon!"
The way she forced heat into her voice was almost pitiable. Ryly looked at Leon next.
"...Same here. I came to rest a little, and Ian was already here."
So. Interpreting that a bit: both of them had come out here because they didn't want to go into the room, and then they'd run into each other. Awkward atmosphere or not, the thought of being left alone together in that spot must have been unbearable.
Ian being a woman made her discomfort understandable, but did Leon need to feel awkward? Granted, being around someone of high station would be awkward, but they'd seemed fine together in the prison earlier.
Whatever the case, the atmosphere was painful. Because the conversation had already died.
"..."
"..."
Ah. That woman like spring sunshine. It had been so long since he'd missed her like this. She talked a lot of nonsense, sure, but she was excellent at keeping a conversation going. Unfortunately, this was the men's dormitory. Ryly's Sugar was not here.
"It's getting late. We should probably head in..."
There was an optimal solution, then. If you didn't like a gathering, you dissolved the gathering.
"Ahaha... well, yes, but."
"...Yeah."
But their answers were thoroughly unconvincing. They were clearly awkward themselves, so why weren't they going in? Was a closed-off space even more suffocating? Still, they couldn't sit here like this forever.
He looked at Ian with that thought in his eyes. Seizing the opportunity, Ian began pleading with her gaze.
Ryly! What are you even supposed to do when two guys are alone in a room together?
...You just live normally.
I'm not normal, so I can't do that.
How about you just wash up and go straight to sleep tonight?
That's the part I can't do.
Then... send him in first, and you go in later?
The eye conversation — one that would have made a certain someone currently in the women's dormitory lose her mind — came to an end. Ian had decided to accept Ryly's suggestion.
"L-Leon. Could you go in first? I have something to talk about with Ryly."
"..."
"G-go ahead and shower first..."
The nuance was a little off, but regardless, Leon quietly rose from his seat. Then he walked, step by step, out of the lounge.
After he left, just as the somewhat suffocating air seemed to lift, Ian shot up from her seat.
"Wh-what do I do? I don't think he likes me very much... I must have messed up in the prison after all..."
"Ian... he's just being awkward. Guys don't really act all warm and friendly with each other to begin with."
"But you and Sugar!"
"She's a girl."
"But earlier in the prison... I hugged him, thinking about what Sugar usually does, and his reaction didn't seem that bad..."
"...What? You hugged him? You hugged that guy?"
"Yeah. He seemed like he had a lot on his mind because of the staff... I wanted to comfort him."
Ryly's mouth snapped shut, as if he'd been struck over the head.
Was this Sugar's fault? Or was it his own fault, for never putting a stop to that kind of behavior?
He had no idea what kind of man hugged another man under the pretense of comfort. He had no idea why she'd imitate the behavior of a woman she normally scolded for being lewd. Did living in the Holy City make everyone lose a screw? Was it because it was such a peaceful place?
His head spinning, Ryly managed a single sentence. He had plenty to say, but what was the point of saying it to this innocent person?
"...Guys don't do that kind of physical contact with each other."
"What! Really!?"
Ian's face began to flush, then went bright red. Then she started hopping in place, making little yelps — ah, ah, aaagh.
Ryly simply shook his head in silence.
Neither of the two people here knew that after the hug, Leon had found himself strangely preoccupied with Ian, and had begun to feel a flicker of self-doubt and a faint sense of aversion. They could only guess.