The Mesugaki Never Rests (6)
Frey? What on earth is she doing here?
That girl only moseys on over to the training grounds around the time lunch break is ending, after swinging her sword all morning to her heart's content.
She's not about to demand a duel right this second, is she?
Not today, thanks. I just spent every last ounce of strength in my body sparring with Karl. I need rest, is what I'm saying.
Okay, sure, "rest" is a generous word for what's actually planned, which is crawling back into Practice Mode to get thrown around by Grandpa again — but either way, my real-world body needs a break.
Look at my height and you'll understand — I'm still a growing little lady, I'll have you know!
And speaking of growing, am I seriously not going to get any taller than this? Right? Right?
Both of Lucy's parents were above average, one way or another.
Benedict is a man so towering you'd honestly doubt he's human, and even Lucy's mother in that illusion was on the tall side for a woman, as I recall.
So if my height just stops here, that's weird. Genetics exist in this world, you know. If the parents are tall, the kid being tall is the normal outcome!
Which means someday I'll get taller too, right? I can't be stuck looking up at everyone from below forever, can I?
I was painting rosy little hopes across the inside of my skull, but I already knew reality wouldn't be so kind.
First problem: the Mesugaki skill.
The way I talk. The way I act. The way I write. This thing doesn't permit a single non-mesugaki bone in my body — would it really let me grow up? Regular mesugaki characters are supposed to be tiny, cute, and insufferably bratty. No way it would allow me to get so tall I stop being gaki-shaped.
And there's another problem. Would the lolicon pervert of a useless Chief God really just sit back and watch me grow?
That pervert — the exact type who'd be spamming "lolol grow big grow taaaall" if a community forum existed.
"Lucy."
As I sat there sinking into despair over the grim realization that even one centimeter of growth would be a miracle during my Academy years, Frey spoke up to me.
'What is it?'
"What was that. Back there. During our duel."
Huh? What about it, all of a sudden?
Oh. She must have watched me sparring with Karl just now. So she noticed something was off, then.
After all, my mindset against Karl and my mindset against Frey are two different things.
For good reason, too — if I swung at Frey the way I swung at Karl, she'd genuinely end up seriously hurt.
I want to grow alongside Frey, not pulverize her into paste.
But now that she'd caught on, denying it would just be deceiving her. So I nodded.
'Yeah. I was holding back.'
"Obviously? Why would I ever go all-out against a weee~akling like you? You're trash I could flatten anytime even at full effort."
Um. Excuse me. Mr. Mesugaki Skill?
I had no intention of going that far?
I was just going to say I didn't use my full power?
I was NOT planning to drive a mace straight into Frey's pride!
Look! See! Frey, who always wears that faintly spacey expression, is completely stone-faced right now!
"I'm trash?"
How am I supposed to fix this?!
It's true I no longer need to obsess over raising other people's favorability.
But that doesn't mean I want to be hated by someone I've actually grown close to!
When someone you've been hanging around with suddenly turns on you, the damage to your heart comes in double!
I was certain anything I said would only make things worse, so I shut my mouth.
But even in my silence, the Mesugaki skill refused to stand down.
It forced the corners of my mouth upward, wrung a snickering little laugh out of me, and plastered a contemptuous look across my eyes.
At this rate I might as well have said I can't even be bothered to answer you!
Frey glared at me, her brows drawing ever so slightly together, then turned on her heel and walked away.
'Grandpa. What do I do?'
「What is there to do. The girl is weak. That's simply true.」
'That's not what I'm asking!'
This is serious, okay?! Seriously!
Yes, fine, it's true that I didn't like Frey before I entered the world of Soul Academy. She had severe performance issues!
But that was then! The person I've spent the most time with since enrolling at Soul Academy is Frey!
Every time I train my body, she's right there beside me. I've grown attached. That's just how it happened!
And now I might have made HER hate me, and you're over here cracking jokes?!
Grandpa! Aren't you being a little too delighted that you've found a new way to torment me?!
Shall I teach you what the phrase "mutually assured destruction" means?! Huh?! Shall I?!
「Now, now. Think it through. In your usual duels, the things you spat at her — were they ever milder than this? If anything, they were worse.」
At Grandpa's indignant retort, I took a long, hard look back at all the things I'd said to her.
What Grandpa said was an painfully accurate fact.
「If she were the type to get hurt over that much, she'd have fled from your side long ago.」
'...Yeah, huh?'
「So there's no need to fret over it.」
The logic was convincing, but the uneasy feeling in my chest didn't dissolve along with it.
Not long after Frey left, meat and dessert appeared in front of me — but there was no way I could enjoy a single bite.
That morning, Frey had been on her way to her usual training when she happened to catch sight of Lucy sparring with Professor Karl.
There was nothing strange about the two of them crossing blades. They were close even in ordinary times.
And yet the reason Frey couldn't tear her eyes away was that the level of their duel was simply on another plane entirely.
A swift blade that permitted no approach whatsoever.
A shield that absorbed every one of those strikes while calmly, patiently hunting for an opening.
Between each and every move the two of them made lay layers upon layers of calculations — miss a single instant of it, and she felt she'd lose the thread of the flow forever.
So Frey forgot every task she'd planned for the day, climbed aboard the rolling waves of their duel, and simply watched.
The one holding command of the overall flow was the sword.
That side simply possessed the higher skill to begin with, and the duel was structured as instruction — so of course it was.
But the shield-bearer was by no means merely standing still and eating attacks.
Even while being pressed back, Lucy kept straining to seize hold of every crack in her opponent's guard. Kept trying to push forward.
Watching Lucy's movements, dissecting her, Frey suddenly found herself wondering:
Was Lucy like this when she sparred with me?
No.
Lucy had never been that desperate with me.
Frey had crossed blades with Lucy countless times.
It happened naturally, since they were the only two first-years capable of matching each other's level.
Which was not to say they stood on the same summit.
Lucy was someone who stood above Frey. The brutal gap in their win rates proved it well enough.
But Frey had never considered it an uncrossable difference.
She did not doubt her own talent. Someday, she believed, she would catch up to Lucy.
That belief shattered in this very moment.
She had thought the person walking right in front of her was, in truth, this far ahead.
What decided that duel — the one that had struck Frey like a bolt of awe — was Lucy's audacious judgment.
She had created her attacking opening at the cost of accepting a potentially crippling blow, and her gamble had landed with perfect precision.
Watching a wall that should have been unbreakable come crumbling down under Lucy's mace, Frey clenched her fist without realizing it.
It was a strange thing.
Lucy hadn't mocked her or anything of the sort, and yet something red had taken root in her chest.
Was she angry?
No. It wasn't quite that.
What emotion was this, exactly?
Was she simply imagining it?
Yes. That had to be it.
Frey filed it away as a trick of her own mind and headed off to train — but the red thing did not go away.
The emotion clung stubbornly to her heart and refused to peel loose.
And now, having heard Lucy's blunt confirmation, nothing had changed.
So that's it. Lucy doesn't even consider me a real opponent.
Perhaps because of the taunt Lucy had thrown at her, Frey could feel the red thing in her chest swelling larger and larger.
Clumsy with her own emotions as she was, she couldn't begin to understand why she was so at a loss right now.
Someone. Was there no one who could explain this to her?
Wandering the Academy halls with that question gnawing at her, Frey stopped in her tracks at the sound of voices drifting from the infirmary.
"I have no idea what sort of training the Aln household puts its people through, but doctors do not call this a bruise. It's called a fracture."
"So what? It's just a hairline crack in the bone. One potion and a day of rest and it heals, doesn't it?"
"I believe this is the moment I explain why I despise knights."
Both voices from inside were familiar to Frey.
One was the school physician. The other was Professor Karl.
...Right. Professor Karl. Someone that close to Lucy would surely know about this red emotion Lucy stirred up in me.
The instant the thought formed, Frey pushed open the infirmary door without a moment's hesitation.
Then she walked straight up to Karl, who was staring at her blankly, and spoke.
"Professor Karl. I have a question."
"Is it urgent, Lady Kent?"
"Yes. Very."
"Understood."
Karl, handed a perfect pretext to escape the physician's lecture, shot up from his seat in haste and hurried Frey out of the infirmary.
Behind them, the physician shouted something or other at their backs, but Karl paid him no mind.
After all, he had succeeded in pocketing the potion he'd been after.
"My thanks, Lady Kent. Now — what is this about? A question concerning the sword?"
"No. Something else."
As they walked through the Academy gardens, Frey laid out what was troubling her.
She had learned that Lucy had been going easy on her all this time.
And once she'd realized it, something red had begun seeping out of her heart and would not stop.
How could she make it go away.
Frey's explanation, built from her signature clipped vocabulary, was over in an instant.
Karl listened to every word of it, gave a quiet chuckle, and answered her question.
"You feel slighted, don't you? That the young lady has soared so far beyond you."
"Slighted?"
At Frey's puzzled tilt of the head — a girl who didn't know the first thing about such feelings — Karl rolled his eyes upward.
How on earth was he supposed to explain this?
No, wait. Did he even need to?
All that mattered was erasing that sense of being left behind, wasn't it?
Lady Kent felt slighted by the young lady because she had just realized how far ahead of her Lucy stood.
Which meant, if he helped Lady Kent run forward from here—
Not a bad idea, actually. For the young lady's growth too, having a pacemaker running alongside her was the better arrangement.
"Lady Kent. I should like to make you a proposal. A way to rid you of that red feeling of yours."
"What is it?"
"Would you permit me to teach you the sword?"
At that question, Frey tilted her head.