Two Teacups (3)
"What do you mean the situation's changed?"
I asked, but Teresa's answer was vague.
"It's a political matter. Hard to explain in detail... but you might have a solid backer now. Just keep that in mind for now."
"A backer? Why?"
"Someone took an interest in you after your Ranking Tournament performance last time. It should give you some breathing room."
"So what am I supposed to do about it now?"
"Bottom line, you don't have to worry about your Ranking Tournament results anymore. No need to play the thug and hover around the mid-ranks."
With that, Teresa shooed me out of the principal's office. No chance to demand more explanation.
Honestly, I was just confused.
With my family's downfall and all the bad luck piling up, it was natural I'd been watching my back from outsiders. Lorband's mess? I snapped and did it, but I planned to manage my rank again. Some people wouldn't like seeing me climb too high.
Of course, I didn't enjoy staying in that spot forever either. Plenty of problems would vanish if I could just ignore the stares and crush the tournaments. But I'd held back because of family issues.
Now they were saying I could climb? How was I supposed to take that?
"..."
Then a voice whispered in my head.
It's good news. Just accept it.
Do what Gideon said. You've wanted to go wild in the tournaments all along.
Your ruined rep might even recover.
And Ronari too...
I shook my head. I trusted Teresa, but could I really just go along with it?
Hide out playing it safe, then burst out because I'm pissed, and now ignore everyone else's eyes entirely...
Was it okay to flip-flop like that without knowing what changed or why? Some pointless doubt made me hesitate.
Belica said,
"What?! That's awesome! Just stomp everyone in the Ranking Tournament!"
Why the hell did I even consult this girl? Her brain was simpler than Gideon's.
I cursed my own disastrous social circle—Belica was the only one I could spill this to.
Maybe I was cursed. Whatever it was, it kept me from normal relationships. Probably named Ilsea Alerzar.
It was already Thursday, and I still hadn't exchanged a word with Ronari. She hadn't reported my overnight absence yet... but that wasn't the point.
Living like enemies with the girl next door was unbearable. I wasn't clueless—I had the will and a plan to fix it.
Plan A was ready. Easy to pull off.
But Plan B's the problem...
Thinking that, I stepped into the Grand Arena. I didn't want to come, but what choice did I have? Tournaments were weekly.
Win or lose? I'd agonized for three days, but no good answer yet.
Then I locked eyes with the last guy I wanted to see. Gideon.
"Hey, coward."
"..."
I wanted to snap back—who's the coward?—but I couldn't relax like that. Hesitating over the obvious "just win" made me feel like one.
"Why crawl out if you're just gonna throw it like a coward again? Stay holed up in the dorm."
"Rules say no-show without reason means penalty points. No way a dummy like you memorizes the handbook."
"You know that, so why bring it up? Mr. Rules knows best, huh? Scaredy-cat. Afraid of penalties, afraid of winning. Coward."
"Haven't decided to lose yet, so shut it."
Gideon snorted in disbelief.
"What bullshit is 'haven't decided'?"
"Don't wanna chat with you. Doubt your tiny brain could get it anyway."
"Sure, sure. Know who you're up against next?"
"Nope. Saw the bracket, but didn't care—some nobody."
"That nobody's one of Lorband's goons."
"...?"
I frowned without thinking. Why him of all people...
"Gonna be fun watching you lose. If his goon beats you and tries leading the pack, wonder what face Lorband makes."
"Don't care what they do."
"Man, you're dumber than I thought. Think it'll really stay that way?"
"Their pecking order drama's got nothing to do with—"
"It does, idiot. Lose to his goon, and his already trashed face gets worse. Stomp the climber, then Challenge Match you out of spite for losing to trash like you?"
"...Challenge Match."
Challenge Match. Once per semester, force a tournament duel on anyone. No refusal, bracket changes automatically. Not my thing—unless climbing against a high ranker or settling a grudge.
"Lose there too, and that perv hounds you forever. Can't picture that scenario?"
Gideon gripped my shoulder, whispering,
"Stomp the maggot before it turns fly! That's your way."
"..."
Right on cue, the instructor called my name.
Second-year Swordsmanship Major Composite Student, Ilsea Alerzar. To Stage 6.
Gideon shoved my shoulder with a smirk, like go on.
I ground my teeth. Something bubbled inside.
Swallowing rage, I climbed the stage. Opponent waited—a fire mage, around 50th rank. Tactics unknown, but fire mages were all the same.
As I sized him up, he spoke.
"Ilsea Alerzar."
"?"
"Lorband lost 'cause he got careless. Won't happen with me. Not losing to trash-fighter scum like you."
His tense voice screamed provocation, trying to rattle me.
But then,
"Your idiot dad's ruined your trash family, but strutting with hot chicks on your arm lately, all high and mighty..."
Crunch. I clenched my jaw.
After that, his yapping faded. Didn't care to hear it. Suppressed fury surged, drowning out the noise.
"Every damn one of you."
Didn't even hear the countdown—knew it started when flames roared.
Flawless fire wave crashed. I dove in.
Didn't care what burned. Sick of watching eyes anyway.
I pierced the blaze, charging him. His eyes widened in shock.
"You crazy—mmph!"
Grabbed his head, slammed it down. Clamped his mouth. No surrender cries.
Drew my wand, ignited Mana Saber. Gouge an ear or finger—nothing rare in real-sword tournaments. Academy healing fixes it quick.
Then—
"Ilsea...!"
I glanced. Ronari, watching my match.
"..."
Damn it.
Cut mana to the wand. Instructor pulled me off the pinned guy.
Ilsea! You've already won—ease up...!
Dragged away, I retreated from the terrified opponent. Instructor raised my hand, scolded me to remember a duelist's duty.
"...Yes, understood."
Mumbled that, descended the stage.
Fell for obvious bait again. Could've ignored it.
"Ilsea..."
Ronari waited below. Was in the stands earlier—down quick. Another scolding incoming.
But better than being ignored. Felt a weird relief.
—Ha, laughing at myself for that.
But her words weren't a lecture. Her hand reached tentatively for my forehead.
"What do we do... your burns..."
Worried voice. Fidgeting hand trembled.
I stepped back before it touched. Shook my head.
"...?"
She blinked, startled. I murmured low,
"Lots of eyes. Don't wanna be misunderstood."
That moment, emotion welled in her big eyes—familiar. Seen it days ago. From others. From her.
I ignored it, scanned around.
"Misunderstood... ah..."
She finally got it, glanced around late.
I passed her, called the instructor.
"Injured here. Patch me up."
Sat obediently for treatment. Felt stares, but didn't look.
Meet those eyes again, I'd snap. Ask why not yell. Why suddenly so sweet. I always try to care—why do you both look hurt? Belica, Ronari, you too.
"You're back! Ilsea!"
Gideon slammed a shoulder hug like a tackle.
"...Back off. Bad mood."
"Saw it! That glare! Pure beast mode—the one I know!"
"Mirror check, beast boy."
"Half-year silence broken—Ilsea Alerzar returns. I'll endure your lame jokes."
"Thanks ever so much. Now piss off?"
"Wanna, but can't. Got something to show."
He unfolded paper, shoved it at me. No avoiding, so I read.
Ilsea Alerzar: 55th (↑18)
"131st to 55th in two weeks flat. The mad dog's return is nigh."
"Not a mad dog."
"Run wild on all fours. Mad dog. I'll wait up top."
Ha. Hanging with this guy drops my IQ in real time. Can't ignore.
"Cocky bastard. What rank lets you talk shit?"
"Me? 11th. Different league from trash like you."
"What. Lower than perv Lorband."
"Nah, I'm higher now. He dropped to 12th after you wrecked him."
"The hell."
I chuckled emptily, crossing the hall with Gideon. But my mind was elsewhere. Since leaving the stage—Ronari and Belica's faces lingered.