Handkerchief Snowball (1)
“No buts~”
“No buts allowed! The whole point of study group is actual studying, not slacking off! If Bel keeps using it as an excuse to goof around, I won't have the face to ask the professor for permission.”
“Ugh...”
Ronari's straight talk left Belica deflated, and she shot me a pleading look.
...What am I supposed to do about it?
Whatever Belica's whining, the two of them actually clicked surprisingly well.
“You know, there are actually a lot of girls who look up to Bel.”
“Ehh? No way~ I'm always hanging out with the boys. Aren't they the ones badmouthing me for chasing after guys?”
Belica played coy at Ronari's words, but Ronari was firm.
“Not at all. You're the only one who acts so bold and unapologetic around boys. I've even heard girls say they had crushes on you.”
“Whaaat~? Girls? On me?”
“Yeah. They say you look cool running during matches or fitness tests. Faster than the boys, even.”
“Ehehe~ That's kinda embarrassing.”
Belica twisted shyly in place. Well, I wasn't all that surprised girls liked her too. Ronari had a point. If the girls' opinions of her weren't positive, Belica couldn't hang off me so casually without backlash.
According to Belica—self-proclaimed queen of gossip—the source of rumors is always women, never men.
“That's why it'd be great if you hung out with us too, Bel. With your charm, it'd take five minutes... no, one minute to feel like old friends.”
Sounded about right. For Belica, anyway.
I nodded silently.
But instead of accepting, Belica poked my cheek with broccoli speared on her fork.
“But~ if even I ditch this guy, no one'll be left to keep our little loner company. I'd feel too bad, so I'd have to stick around and babysit him~”
“Gross. Don't play with food.”
“See? Even when I'm being nice and entertaining him, this is the reaction I get! Who else could put up with him? Right, cutie?”
This brat had been mimicking my mom lately, for some reason.
The chest talk had worked like a charm before... but with Ronari here, I couldn't counter with crude jokes.
I just shut my mouth.
Then Ronari joined in teasing me.
“True. Someone's gotta look after this delinquent.”
“Right~? This idiot's all grown up physically but still a kid at heart. Just look at last time—he couldn't ditch his first-year habits and went brawling with Gideon. If I hadn't been there, he wouldn't have held back with that birdbrain! Same with Lorband—he'd have thrown down for sure without me.”
“...”
All true. Nothing to say.
Ronari glanced at me.
“Seriously, you walking disaster. What would've happened with Gideon if I hadn't stopped you?”
Belica's flustered voice cut in.
“...Wait, you were the one who stopped it?”
“Yup. Came back to the classroom and caught you two fighting. Had to grab Ilsea and chuck him out... or it wouldn't have ended with just penalty points.”
Ronari grinned at me.
“Be grateful?”
I nodded half-heartedly.
“Thanks.”
Belica grabbed my shoulder and pointed at herself.
“Hey! Say it to me too! Thanks!”
“I did back then. And last time you told me not to thank you.”
“Do it again!”
“No.”
“Ugh! Ugh!”
“Don't kick me while I'm eating.”
“Ugh!”
“No punches either.”
......
After the meal, Ronari said,
“Then let's talk to the teacher about study group at Monday lunch—in the office together.”
“Okay! See ya tomorrow, missy!”
Belica waved brightly and vanished down the opposite hall.
Clack.
Back at the dorm, about to head to my room, Ronari called from behind.
“Ilsea.”
“?”
Hands hidden behind her waist, she glanced around like someone might be watching before speaking.
“Um... about last time. What I mentioned earlier...”
“What?”
“When... Gideon came looking for you. I threw you, right? Did it hurt? Any injuries...?”
I chuckled.
“You told me to be grateful earlier. Why bring it up now?”
“Still...”
“Don't worry. My one redeeming quality is being tough. And...”
“...?”
“If you'd thrown me for real, I wouldn't be walking around fine now.”
Her face flushed beet red.
“Th-that makes me sound like some muscle monster!”
“Academy year-top? You'd hear worse.”
“...!”
I dodged as she grabbed my shoe to hurl it and slipped into my room.
If she meant it, door or wall wouldn't matter... but our rooms were off-limits by unspoken rule. She'd back off.
Hearing her enter hers, I flopped onto bed.
Had to head out tonight anyway. Teacups, Belica's errands—unexpected expenses had me broke.
Needed any shut-eye before work.
Then her voice came through the sliding door.
—Um...
“...?”
I figured it was her mumbling to herself—not for me. Just us here, but we barely talked in our rooms. Footsteps hushed, essential chats saved for morning.
First time she'd spoken through the door, I think.
No reply, so she called again.
—Ilsea...!
Weird. Talking at bedtime.
I asked flatly.
“What. Something up?”
—...
Silence.
“Spit it out.”
—Nothing. Just... nothing.
Her voice sounded genuinely peaceful, no big deal. No urge to pry.
But why call then?
...No clue. She'd say if important.
I closed my eyes.
Busy day. Mostly good, luckily.
......
Leather soles scraped sharply on the smooth floor.
Our back-and-forth steps peaked in a clash of blades.
Kadang!
Belica's wooden sword locked with my training blade. Sparks of friction and sweat flew.
In that instant, her dagger jabbed my side twice.
Wooden, so no real holes—but it stung.
I stepped back, waving it off.
Belica's triumphant voice confirmed.
“Hehe, I win?”
“Yeah.”
Hoo.
I slumped on the bench, catching my breath. Winter lingered, but exertion left me steamy.
Belica plopped beside me, bumping shoulders.
“Ew, sweat stink!”
“Then back off. Hot.”
“Heheng, nope~”
“Unlike your summer-proof bones, I'm weak to heat.”
Ignoring my gripe, she pressed on.
“But seriously—why'd you just take the hit?”
“Take what.”
“At the end. When I went inside your guard, you could've kicked.”
She started untying her training shoes.
I bullshitted.
“Didn't think of it.”
“Liar. You deliberately didn't use feet.”
Busted.
“Uniform. Leaves marks.”
“Aww... so thoughtful.”
Belica covered her mouth coyly.
She added,
“But you weren't just holding back feet, right? You've been half-assing lately.”
“Sparring isn't kill-or-be-killed.”
“But it's no fun if not serious!”
“Says the one not going full throttle.”
Her face twisted into a sly grin.
“Oh~? You knew~?”
Lived with you forever—how wouldn't I?
Lalala~
Belica hummed, fiddling with laces. Normally she'd mock the loser endlessly, but today...
Since Monday's office visit with Ronari, she'd been bubbly. Tempted to pop it.
I asked,
“You can stay that carefree?”
“Why? Can't handle happy, pretty me?”
“Study group's not locked in. Flunk next week's quiz, back to remedial. It's Wednesday—sure?”
“You'll figure it out with missy, right?”
She leaned in, elbowing me.
“Even if she tries, it's wasted without your effort.”
“Dunno. Worry about your sweat.”
You'd be screwed if I slacked.
I rummaged my jacket pocket.
No handkerchief.
Always carried it—where...?
“...Ah.”
Lent to Ronari, never got back.
She said she'd wash it—four days now. Forgot?
Belica eyed my blank stare.
“What's up?”
“Lend me your handkerchief.”
“What? Didn't bring yours? You always have that crumpled stinky one.”
“Nope.”
“Sheesh~ Can't survive without me.”
She handed hers over. Familiar scent, as expected.
But after mine so long, this felt oddly fresh.
Wiping sweat, her soda-lemon fragrance clung to my neck.
Feels dirty using it. Sorry.
Belica stood, packing done. Sloppy at most things, quick at this.
Sloppy means quick?
“Big sis heading out? Lunch later.”
“Wait. I'll be done soon.”
“Naw~ Go shower after packing. Stink into class, and your rep drops ranks. Sweat smell.”
That bad?
I sniffed myself.
Belica snickered.
“Whatever to me!”
She left the practice room; I headed to dorm.
Normally straight to class, but her words nagged.
Rinse quick, at least.
Ran into Ronari exiting our room.
“Here.”
“Ah... yeah.”
Thought you'd be in class.
She scanned me top to bottom, hesitantly.
“You're sweaty... Training since morning?”
“Yeah, sparred with Belica.”
“With Bel...”
She frowned faintly, staring—especially neck and chest.
Sniffing?
...That bad?
“Gonna shower before class.”
Then I remembered.
“Oh, right—the handkerchief I lent...”
Ronari flinched.
Before I finished, she blurted,
“Ah! The handkerchief! Said I'd wash and return! Forgot! Ahaha...! Tomorrow! For sure!”
...Huh. Ronari Sharino forgets things. Live long enough.
“Got it.”
I hit the bathroom.
Quick rinse, towel around waist, shaking wet hair out—froze stepping into the living room.
“...?”
Ronari waited, arms crossed, face oddly tense, staring intently.