An Unexpected Variable
The ice-cold voice cut through the chaos of the great hall like a blade.
“Everyone, silence.”
The heavy doors swung open slowly, and the faculty, immaculate in their uniforms, filed in as a single line. At their head walked Professor Oliver, head of the Magic Department, a man whose nickname—“the Cold-Blooded”—suited him perfectly.
His blue eyes swept past the injured Croffle and the panicking Ricotta before locking precisely on Basil, who stood at the center of the entire incident.
“What is the meaning of this uproar?”
The short, low question made the entire hall, noisy only moments before, hold its breath. Without another word he scanned the scene with a single glance.
“First, tend to the injured students.”
At his order the professors moved swiftly. The wounded were taken to the infirmary; Ricotta, still in full panic, was escorted to a lounge. Even as she was led away she glared at Basil with pure fury and screamed,
“It’s all that commoner’s fault! He’s the one who made this mess!!”
Ricotta’s one-sided accusation. At those words hundreds of eyes stabbed into Basil like daggers. Professor Oliver’s brow twitched ever so slightly.
“Basil, was it? I believe we need a private talk.”
Of course. As if destiny itself had already been written, the weak in this world always ended up wearing the clothes of the perpetrator. Even though he was the victim, Basil was now trapped in the role of the guilty party and would have to endure an investigation.
The academy life he had dreamed of since childhood—had he ever imagined its very first day would collapse so thoroughly? Basil’s shoulders were hunched tight. Even the sunlight pouring down on him looked especially lonely today.
I had watched the protagonist suffer countless times inside the game, but seeing it with my own eyes instead of through a monitor brought a bitterness of an entirely different scale.
Then a grating warning tone rattled through my skull.
Major character Ricotta’s trauma value has spiked sharply.
Major character Basil may be expelled from the Academy.
Scenario deviation rate has exceeded critical threshold.
Initiating new scenario.
Success Condition: Prevent Basil’s expulsion
Failure Penalty: Uncontrollable mana storm
…What? Penalty?
An uncontrollable mana storm?
Fail and I basically die in a bad ending. In other words: if you don’t like it, work your ass off.
A freezing silence ruled the great hall. At the end of hundreds of staring eyes, in the very center of the space, stood green-haired Basil.
He bit down hard on his lip. Pain flared at once and blood welled, yet what stung far worse was the injustice of not being understood. In this world, however, the grievances of the powerless were nothing more than noise.
On the dais before him stood Professor Oliver. That razor-sharp gaze seemed to peel Basil’s existence away layer by layer.
“Basil. I will ask one last time. Did you, in any form whatsoever, exert influence upon Miss Ricotta?”
No emotion colored the voice, and that made it all the more merciless. It was not a question. It was merely the final confirmation of a verdict already decided.
Basil bit his lip even harder. The taste of blood spread.
Say yes and it was an excuse.
Say no and it was a confession.
Neither choice offered salvation.
The academy life Basil had longed for so desperately was about to end at the entrance ceremony itself.
I have to find a way!
Failure meant the end. Not only for me—if things continued like this Basil would be expelled on the spot, the shock would blacken him, and he would start walking the path of a criminal. Once that happened, no amount of effort could stop the bad ending.
Dozens of simulations collided inside my head.
I held no cards. My position was that of a nameless extra named Saya. If I stepped forward and claimed Basil’s innocence…
It wouldn’t even register.
That left only one method.
Not reason or logic, but smashing the board with an action that defied common sense.
Reckless—yet the surest path.
This is insane. But… I have to do it, don’t I?
The moment the decision solidified, my heart began hammering like mad. Terror of failure and dread of the coming storm bound my entire body.
I crushed it all down and took one step forward.
Pushing through the murmuring students, I drew every gaze as if it were natural. Ignoring them all, I walked straight toward the dais.
One step. Another.
The click of my heels on the marble floor rang out with unnatural clarity.
At last I reached the center of the great hall, between Professor Oliver and Basil, and without the slightest hesitation I dropped to my knees.
Thud.
The dull sound split the silence. Every noise in the hall died as if it had never existed.
Hundreds of students, the faculty on the dais, and Basil himself—whose face was still twisted with despair—all swallowed their breath and stared at me.
The cold of the marble seeped through my knees and spread through my whole body. I forced my trembling breath under control, kept my head bowed, and cried out,
“I’m sorry, Professor! Everything… everything is my fault!”
My voice quivered faintly, yet the words carried clearly through the entire hall.
“I… I was trying to play a prank on Basil. But my mana control is still clumsy… and the spell flew toward Lady Ricotta instead. Basil… has done nothing wrong!”
Silence.
A short, razor-edged silence, then the students’ whispers surged like a wave.
“What did she just say…? She’s taking the blame?”
“Is she crazy? Why would she suddenly claim she did it?”
“Which house is that girl from? I’ve never seen her face before.”
And Basil.
He stared at me as if every sound in the world had been cut off. Pure bewilderment and shock filled his trembling pupils. His lips moved several times, yet no sound emerged. The single word Why? was carved into every muscle of his face.
Then Professor Oliver moved on the dais. He descended the steps slowly and came to stand before me. His shadow completely swallowed me. The pressure tightened around my throat.
“Student. What is your name?”
A voice colder than ice drove down from above my head.
“…Saya.”
“Saya.”
Professor Oliver circled me once, slowly, like a predator examining its prey. I could feel that sharp gaze raking me from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. My heart felt as though it would drop straight through my feet from the fear of being found out.
“You intended to prank Basil? What magic did you use?”
Here it came. I swallowed hard and delivered the answer I had prepared.
“J-just… a low-grade prank spell that makes someone trip. But my mana is still immature… so it ricocheted somewhere it shouldn’t have…”
“Hmm.”
Oliver’s eyes narrowed. Interest and suspicion layered together in that gaze.
He surely knew. My words were a lie. The residual mana left on Ricotta and the wavelength of a cheap prank spell were qualitatively different. He was one of the Academy’s finest magic scholars; there was no way he wouldn’t notice.
Please, please just let it slide.
I begged and begged inside my head.
Professor Oliver was cold-blooded, yet at the same time a ruthless rationalist. He would want a clean conclusion to this headache of an incident involving the heir of a marquis house, the daughter of a duke, and a commoner special-admission student all tangled together on the very first day. And I had volunteered to be the sacrificial lamb.
Better for a nameless extra like me to be expelled than for the protagonist Basil to be expelled.
How long passed? After a silence that felt eternal, Oliver finally spoke.
“Raise your head.”
I lifted my face slowly and met those blue eyes head-on.
He turned and declared to every student in the hall,
“This disturbance was an unfortunate accident caused by Student Saya’s clumsy prank. The victims, Miss Ricotta and Student Croffle, are currently receiving treatment. Student Basil has been cleared of any involvement.”
In that instant Basil’s shoulders heaved. Relief and even greater confusion warred on his face. He tried to say something to me, but Oliver’s next words sealed his mouth.
“However.”
The professor’s voice froze the hall once more. His gaze returned to me.
“Violating Academy regulations and endangering a fellow student is by no means a light offense. Therefore, in accordance with Academy rules, Student Saya will receive a severe punishment.”
He delivered the verdict in a precise tone.
“Student Saya is hereby placed under disciplinary probation. The terms are as follows: after-school cleaning and management of the library archives for three months, and the composition of handwritten apology letters to be submitted to the injured parties, Miss Ricotta and Student Croffle.”
Oliver paused, then added,
“Finally, she is assigned the duty of serving as a support aide for the psychological stability of the victim, Miss Ricotta.”
Punishment, not expulsion.
I had avoided the worst.
Compared to the expulsion I had been prepared to take in Basil’s place, this was far better. Cleaning the archives and writing apology letters I could endure without complaint. But…
Duty as a support aide for Ricotta’s psychological stability…?
They were putting the perpetrator in charge of the victim’s mental care? No—calling it “support” was just a pretty word for becoming the duke’s daughter’s personal servant and catering to her every whim, wasn’t it?
Wow… this was a variable I never saw coming.
Oliver’s icy gaze was still fixed on me.
“Student Saya. Any objections?”
“…None.”
Professor Oliver confirmed my sentence with a short nod. He completely withdrew his attention from me and addressed every student gathered in the hall. His voice dominated the space without the slightest tremor.
“First: protective and compensatory measures for the injured students will proceed according to Academy regulations. Second: restoration of the great hall and resolution of the situation take priority. Therefore today’s entrance ceremony is cancelled. All students, disperse.”
At the same moment a transparent window appeared before my eyes.
Success Condition: Prevent Basil’s expulsion
Distributing rewards.
Major character Basil’s status is changing.
In the brief instant I checked the system window, someone seized my arm.
I turned. Basil stood there.
In a trembling voice he asked me a single question. His eyes held me with desperate intensity.
“…Why?”
One short word.
Yet it contained countless questions.
Why did you do it?
Why help someone you just met?
Why silently take the blame in my place?
Why do something like that for someone like me…?
Faced with Basil’s expression—so wretched it looked ready to collapse at any second—I let out a light, almost silly laugh. A laugh that did not match his desperate face at all.
“Because… I want to see you happy.”
The moment I spoke those words—my true desire to watch the kind-hearted protagonist reach a happy ending—a flush of red began at the tips of Basil’s ears, raced down his neck, and flooded his entire face in an instant.
“Uh, uhh… I… uhh…”
The boy who had stood only moments ago as if the whole world had crumbled was now a tomato about to burst, stammering incoherently.
Huh?
Wait a second.
What is this reaction?
Whoa, stop!! Why is this guy making the exact same face he makes in the game when a heroine confesses to him!?