Chapter 7
Chapter 7
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Heading to the Academy
-----------------------------------------------------------------
That was how things had been since then.
Even though it hadn't even been half a day, skipping a meal had made me sensitive, so it felt like a lot of time had passed.
By now, I was starting to get anxious myself. This was a battle I couldn't win. No one can live forever without eating...
Maybe Mayches had the right idea: "She'll come out on her own when she's hungry." And he'd already forgotten about me.
I glanced at the desk.
The plate of cookies Doria had left was still temptingly colorful. For a moment, I thought about sneaking a crumb without anyone noticing, but I held back.
If I ate those now, it would all be for nothing.
I needed to put them somewhere out of sight to quiet my cravings. I reached out to grab the plate.
But as I did...
Crash!
“Eek!”
This damn body of mine, after just one skipped meal, had my hands trembling so badly that I knocked the plate flying.
I already felt guilty about the hunger strike, and now I'd become a brat who broke a plate of cookies too. My chest tightened.
I stared in bewilderment at the shattered pieces scattering under the bed. But the shocking part wasn't over yet.
Bang!
“Aiel!”
Mayches shouted as he flung the door open.
Was this my first scolding since reincarnating? But I hadn't done it on purpose... Feeling a mix of injustice and fear, I looked up at Mayches.
Mayches quickly scanned me sitting on the bed with my arm outstretched and the debris strewn across the floor.
He strode toward me.
“Anywhere hurt?”
“Uh... no.”
There was a crunch as porcelain shards broke under Mayches's shoes.
Mayches looked down at me with an unreadable expression.
“What on earth are you doing, Aiel...?”
His voice, when it finally came, was utterly dejected.
There was no blame directed at me—just a tone like he desperately wanted an answer he couldn't find on his own.
I had to admit my thought that he'd completely forgotten about me was foolish.
The fact that he'd burst in so quickly at the sound of the breaking plate meant he'd been right outside the door the whole time.
I clamped my mouth shut and looked at him awkwardly.
It would be great if I could explain everything clearly to him, but I couldn't.
Mayches seemed to sense from my expression alone that I had something to say. He approached the bed and carefully sat beside me.
“What's going on, huh? I know you're not the type to throw a tantrum out of nowhere. I'd really like it if you told me what's wrong.”
“I...”
After hesitating, I decided to at least share the surface-level truth.
“I want you to have friends, Brother.”
“...Me? Why?”
“Why, why? It's not something you need to question like that...”
“...”
If he'd scolded me like, "What kind of attitude is that? Stop dodging and spit it out," I might have held out.
But Mayches looked like he was desperately searching for what he'd done wrong. From his perspective, it probably just seemed like I was being capricious, yet he didn't even consider the problem might be with me.
In the end, I had no choice but to reveal a bit of my true feelings.
“I... I want you to have lots of things to help you get through the hard times.”
“...”
“Fun hobbies, favorite foods, goals that make you live each day with effort, friends to laugh and cry with... If you had all that, I'd want you to live healthily.”
Mayches sat on the bed, quietly looking down at me.
Even sitting together, he was so much taller that saying this suddenly made me embarrassed.
What right did I have to worry about others when I couldn't even make a lap around the corridor on my own? What if he thought that?
The more precious Mayches became to me, the more worries piled up. I kept wanting to remain a precious family member to him too.
“Now that I think about it, that's why you suddenly suggested we play games. A fun hobby.”
“...Yeah.”
“...And that's why you suddenly told me to go to the academy.”
When I stayed silent without answering, Mayches reached out and gently placed his hand on my head.
He slowly stroked my hair.
After petting my head for a while, he spoke again.
“But I already have them. Fun things, things I like, goals. And for friends... I have you, Aiel. You're better than anyone.”
I lifted my head, which I'd been hanging low.
Mayches pulled my braided hair from behind my back to over my shoulder. As he did, he smiled faintly.
“So you don't need to worry about me anymore. I only need you, Aiel.”
I stared at him blankly, then my lips twitched.
“...You're driving me crazy.”
“Huh?”
That's exactly the problem!
It was ridiculous how my heartfelt confession had been effortlessly deflected by the shield of his sister complex. Even the tears welling up in my eyes vanished.
No, it's touching and all... But honestly, wasn't this the perfect setup for a response like, "I see, in that case, I'll think about going to the academy..."?
“So you're still not going to the academy?”
This time, anger surged, and I gnawed at my lips. I could feel my body heating up.
“Ah, Aiel. Don't bite your lips. What if they get hurt.”
I vowed to myself: Even if it means starving for a week, I'll get a firm yes on the academy.
But fortunately—or unfortunately—I didn't need to go into round two with Mayches.
“You're not even listening to a word I...”
I'd been grumbling with a face full of dissatisfaction when suddenly, after a long while, I went "pfft"—and collapsed.
My last faint had been two months ago, so this was just the usual timing. Of course, skipping lunch might have contributed.
But to Mayches, seeing me—who'd been perfectly fine mentally for those two months—suddenly faint right in front of him must have been a fresh shock.
Especially since it happened mid-argument-like exchange, he probably thought my blood pressure had spiked or something.
A week later, when I came to in a daze, Mayches said this to me with damp eyes.
“Aiel, I'll... I'll go to the academy. I know telling you not to worry doesn't make the worries go away—I was too thoughtless, right? So don't be mad and just relax. Take a deep breath... okay?”
“Uh... y-yeah, good thinking...”
So that's why in dramas, when adults faint dramatically, everyone does what they want... It must be visually shocking.
From now on, I should faint with a more peaceful expression. Seeing Mayches's ashen face made my heart heavy.
The following year, Mayches diligently attended the academy.
At first, he'd come straight home every weekend with a face like the world was the most boring place.
Sometimes, even on weekdays, he'd make excuses like he'd forgotten something or wasn't feeling well and needed to rest at home.
Then he'd tell me about what happened at the academy. It was all stuff like eating breakfast, going to school, eating lunch, and heading back to the dorm to sleep—basically the level of my elementary school diary entries.
Even so, his test scores were great.
For midterms, he got S in Magic Practical, Magic Theory, and Magic Application. S was the grade given only to the top in each subject.
When I jumped for joy seeing that report card, for finals he brought back S in all seven subjects.
I baked him seven big S-shaped cookies as a gift.
I stood by the oven until they were done, not caring if my body gave out, and ended up exhausted—but it was worth it. My Mayches was the academy's top student!
Not long after the second semester started, he told me he'd made friends. That's when I realized he hadn't had any the entire first semester.
The academy stories he shared by my bedside on weekends now always included his friends.
“My friend got advised to skip theology class. He's bad at controlling his expressions, so he couldn't hide his 'What the hell is that?' face the whole time, and the professor apparently ran out crying.”
“...Huh?”
“He grew up in the temple since he was little, so he knows more than the theology professor.”
“Ah.”
How pure and beautiful must someone's heart be if they grew up in a temple? Of course, excluding cases like villainous Daluh Dea, blinded by jealousy.
I was glad Mayches had friends who could positively influence him.
But when Mayches showed me a card (he wanted to call it that, but it was clearly a sheet of practice paper ripped out and folded in half) written by that friend as a "blessing," I started worrying if something was wrong at the temple.
Just live roughly. It's all futile anyway. Seeing my ambiguous expression, Mayches quickly made excuses.
“Still, he's a good kid.”
“...”
Another time, he suddenly came home on a weekday and took the bell used for Harrigal. I knew he was playing games with his friends. Knowing they were bonding over the games I'd taught him made me so happy I could've eaten sweets without touching cookies.
“But why take the bell again? You took it last time.”
“Oh... Remember I told you about that friend who's a year older than you?”
Repitelips Academy's enrollment criteria were extremely lax under the prerequisite of being from high society, nobility or above. Among idle upper class, there were occasional cases of entering a bit young. He'd mentioned one of his new friends was like that.
“He's ridiculously strong. We played Harrigal, and he smashed the bell on the first round. He's needlessly strong and agile, so we don't play physical games with him anymore.”
“...Huh?”
A year older than me would make him thirteen, and he broke a specially made mithril bell...? Uh... sure, that could happen. Must've been a faulty spring! I thought, what an energetic friend. But when Mayches pulled out the "mithril bell" that was squished flat like a hotteok pancake, I nearly grabbed him by the collar. Stay away from that friend!