The Summoning Dormitory

The Summoning Major's dormitory had a rather peculiar structure.

How many roofs does one building need?

It was a large wooden building, but peaks jutted up from it like the ridgeline of a mountain range. It felt like one big structure with rooms tacked on and stitched together, giving off a charm that made you worry, just a little, whether the whole thing might collapse. It was like a fairy-tale hermitage some retired witch had built deep in the woods as a whimsical bit of magic practice.

True to form for the Summoning Major, some of the rooms were built from bones, and others wriggled and squirmed. A great tree pierced straight up through the dormitory's roof, and even that tree had cozy little houses clinging to its trunk.

And standing guard at the entrance were two skeletons, each over three meters tall. With massive halberds clutched in their hands, the second-year students tensed up at the sight.

"Ah, those are just decorations."

At Leonard's words, the students filed past, inwardly relieved.

"Phew, that scared me."

"Wait, that one's a decoration too?"

One student gave a statue a light kick. The statue suddenly sprang to life and smashed the student away with its foreleg.

"GAH!"

"Hahahaha! That one's a real gargoyle! Be careful."

Passing the skeletons and the gargoyle into the interior, they were greeted by warmth and the rich scent of tree sap. Thanks to the orange lights hanging from the ceiling, the inside of the dormitory felt impossibly cozy.

Gentle heat radiated from two fireplaces, and everywhere they looked were undead decorations worthy of the Summoning Major. A monster's skeleton creaking as it hung from the ceiling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had a visceral realism to it—though it would probably be quite terrifying at night.

There was even an aquarium built into the wall.

A school of sharp-toothed fish swam around in circles, and whenever a senior's hand so much as touched the glass, they would swarm over, jet-black and frenzied, clacking their teeth against it.

The seniors, apparently well used to it now, wiggled their fingers and played with the fish.

"This is the lobby," Leonard explained. "Assemblies are called to the lobby. When you hear the announcement, just come down here and gather. And this is our dormitory manager."

The henchman seated at the front desk of the lobby rose and bowed his head to the students.

"You're free to use the lobby, but fighting is obviously off-limits, as are smoking and eating."

Leonard smoothly stepped to the side.

"This here is the lounge."

"Whoa!"

The tour continued through the lounge, the laundry room, the shared kitchen—everything was better than expected. Truthfully, Simon preferred a cozy environment like this, one that felt like a home, over some huge, glitzy building.

Then Leonard led the students down into the basement.

"This is the workshop."

Simon's eyes lit up. This might just be the largest facility in the whole dormitory.

It was exactly like the first time he'd visited the Mutant club. All sorts of complicated equipment had been installed, and the shelves were lined with every kind of undead material.

"Each of you will be assigned a desk. And be careful about touching other people's things without permission—you'll cause real trouble if you do. The Summoning Major is quite sensitive about material theft. If you want to store materials in the freezer, you must label them with your name."

Leonard reeled off the explanation. I'm liking this more and more. Simon was rapidly falling for the dormitory, and for the life he was going to live here. This place fulfilled a Summoning student's romantic ideals two hundred percent.

"Ugh, that musty corpse smell~"

Only Serne was muttering such things without a shred of tact. One of the third-year girls turned to give her a warning look, realized it was Serne, and hastily turned her head back around.

There were other workshops as well.

"If you flip this switch like so—"

Clack-clack-clack!

When Leonard, who had stepped into the next workshop, pulled the lever, a rather intense hum filled the air and the surroundings shifted to a bluish hue. It was like water filling a sealed room.

"...!"

The students looked around in awe. The entire room was becoming saturated with mana.

"Nice, right? If you build magic circles in here, you can get some genuinely good results. Of course, anyone who turns on the mana must switch it off when they leave. For the details of how the mana devices work, just ask the seniors working in here—they'll explain kindly."

Beyond that, Simon and the students toured a string of other facilities. Private storage rooms and cooling-water systems went without saying—there was even a place to keep captured monsters.

Leonard was over by the bathhouse, the facility the students had been most looking forward to, giving his explanation, but Simon's head was still full of that workshop.

"Well, that's about all there is to see. Now we'll do the room assignments."

Finally! Every second-year tensed up.

"Rooms are two to a suite. I'd say it's best to just sort it out among people you're friendly with?"

"YES!!"

"Right, right. Got it. Wait here just a bit longer and the proctor will be along."

Having finished the dormitory tour, Leonard climbed the stairs to the third floor. Second-years used the rooms on the first and second floors, while third-years took the third and fourth.

The other third-years were all heading up as well, when—

"Everyone, attention."

Hector Moore, the second-year department representative, stepped forward. Will, a third-year, gave his shoulders a couple of thumps, raked his eyes once over the second-years with a savage glare, then followed Leonard upstairs.

"Before room assignments, I'm going to explain a few simple rules we follow."

When he said rules, Simon assumed he meant things like commuting hours or bathhouse etiquette.

These were a different kind of rule.

Second-years are never to ascend above the third floor of the dormitory.

When you meet a senior, bow all the way to the waist and greet them with the utmost courtesy.

If seniors are in the private storage rooms, wait at the entrance until they leave; greet them as they exit, then use the room.

Cooling water is to be filled by the second-years on duty.

When seniors send you on an errand, comply without a word of complaint.

And so on. Some of it was perfectly understandable; some of it made you think, is that really necessary? It was the sort of rule set that typically governed senior-junior relations.

"Simon~ Simon~" Serne whispered. "Doesn't this all smell a bit like old geezers to you?"

A few students let out suppressed laughter. Simon shot Serne a warning glance, while Lorraine simply stood with her arms crossed, eyes closed, lost in thought.

"Of course, these aren't rules the school imposed—these are rules between students," Hector said. "I won't force anyone. But as you all know perfectly well, this is what department life is. Refusing what everyone else does, what everyone else has always done—that's what makes you a social misfit. And what do misfits get, I wonder?"

The room went quiet for a beat.

"There's a department welcome party tonight," Hector said, sweeping his gaze over the students. "Same deal with that. Attendance is voluntary, but if your head is screwed on properly, I expect every last one of you to be there. The seniors' connections matter in department life and long after graduation. Which is to say—there's no need to pick a fight with them."

Just then, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. A middle-aged woman in loose, shapeless robes was approaching. Hector swiftly retreated back to his place.

"The dormitory proctor—Margaret."

Margaret looked extremely strict and severe by nature.

Unlike the other henchmen, the proctor held the authority to control students and assign demerit points, which made her someone you had to be extremely careful around in dormitory life.

"I will now explain the rules of conduct."

Hers was a one-line greeting, and then she immediately launched into a long list of rules.

Where Hector had explained the rules between seniors and juniors, Proctor Margaret spoke of the standard, orthodox rules of everyday life. Curfew, the demerit point system, laundry etiquette. Beyond that, how to sort your trash properly, and a ban on drinking alcohol or smoking cigars inside the dormitory. Sneaking into a room occupied by the opposite sex in particular earned both the culprit and the room's owner the maximum penalty.

"Do what you're supposed to do and rest, and there will be no reason for the proctor to interfere with you or hand out penalties."

Her eyes sharpened.

"I expect you all to live here while observing the rules faithfully."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Now, we'll begin room assignments. Look around freely, check the room numbers, and when you've found the roommate you want, sign this paperwork together. Male students go up the right staircase, female students the left."

With that, she gave a single nod.

"Begin."

Fwoosh!

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the students kicked off the ground on trails of Jet-Black and shot upward. As they raced for the stairs to claim the best rooms, the proctor's mouth tore open, monstrous and savage.

"I SAID running indoors means demerit points!!"

The students all flinched and converted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their leaps into brisk walks.

"Especially the green-haired boy who ran on Jet-Black, and the boy next to him—come here. Demerit points."

"Yes—wait, already?!"

"Come here."

As the two hapless students trudged over to the proctor, Simon took the stairs at a rapid pace and headed up to the second floor.

"Aw, come on."

"Doesn't look like there are any prime spots."

That was what the students who'd gone up first were saying. Simon checked too, but the room sizes, the furnishings inside, the bed dimensions—almost everything was identical.

If the rooms were all more or less the same, the next most important thing was the roommate.

"Hold on—Mr. President!!"

Simon, who was busy inspecting a room, spun around in surprise. A brown-haired boy he'd never seen before was grinning at him.

"Wanna sleep with me? Come on, come on?"

Having a total stranger come at him like that was a bit much. Behind him, several more students crowded in.

"Hey! Simon! I've seen that punk snore like a chainsaw!"

"You're one to talk, you maniac—you sound like a chainsaw yourself!"

"Simon! No, wait, President! You're from Baldwyn, right? So am I!"

It was the first day of second-year department life. The friends they'd grown close to in their first year had been ripped apart and scattered across different departments, and now they were all strangers to one another. If you didn't have any particularly close friends, latching onto a famous name to pad your own connections was one of the safest choices available.

Of course, Simon himself was a little nonplussed. Well, with Dick gone, it honestly doesn't matter much who I room with.

But the few standing in front of him now felt less like they were being pushy and more like they were being downright blatant. It wasn't the vibe of someone just wanting to be friends—there was a glinting hunger in their eyes, a desire to dig something out of him once they'd had a look at his background.

As Simon glanced around, he spotted a boy standing well apart from the crowd of outstretched ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hands. Small and slight of build, he was sneaking sidelong glances at the other students. Unable to even speak up, he fidgeted in place, then resigned himself to it and turned his back.

"Everyone, thank you for the offers, but I'm sorry," Simon said. "I've already promised to room with someone."

At those words, the small boy, who had been walking away, stopped in his tracks. Simon looked at him and went on.

"Right, Toto?"

"!"

Toto whipped around to face Simon. The surrounding students glared at him with expressions that said, is that for real?

Who's that?

The President is rooming with him?

Toto swallowed without meaning to. But bigger than the pressure of all those watching students was the overwhelming gratitude that Simon had chosen him.

"That's right, Simon! Which room did you decide on?"

Simon gave a faint smile and pointed with a finger.

"How about this one here? It's close to the stairs—looks good."

"Yes! Great!"

The other students finally gave up and moved along. Once the two of them were alone, Toto spoke with shining eyes.

"You really mean it? You'll really room with me?"

Simon scratched the side of his head and laughed sheepishly.

"If you're okay with it."

"Thank you so much, Simon!"

"I'm the one who should be thanking you."

The two of them went down the stairs, found a room, wrote their names in it, and signed.

"Oh, right—come to think of it, where's Fitzgerald?"

"When I was signing earlier, I saw he'd already grabbed a room with somebody else."

"Good for him. Let's get our stuff unpacked first."

"Yeah!"

The dormitory room was small but snug and comfortable. The comfort especially was beyond anything he'd had in his first year.

To be fair, the building itself in the first-year dormitory might have been nicer, but back then three people had shared one room, and now there were only two, so the space felt relatively large and open.

"Simon! Did you know? They say the third-years each get the biggest, nicest room all to themselves!"

"Might have to get promoted just for that room."

"Ahaha!"

Toto was shy with strangers, but the type whose words came pouring out once he warmed up. And since they shared the same interest in Summoning, conversation came easily to them.

Chattering away as they pulled their belongings out of their subspace pockets and put them away, time slipped by before they knew it. It was already evening.

"Whew."

Sitting down on the soft bed, Simon organized his thoughts.

Night was falling, but he still had plenty to do. There was the department welcome party to attend, he had to find out what had happened with Bahil, and he needed to go to Pier's Ruins and report in as Legion Commander.

For the welcome party, he figured he'd mingle for a bit and then slip out when no one was looking.

"It's already getting dark. I'm nervous," Toto said, staring out the window, his teeth chattering.

"Why are you nervous?"

"The welcome party! They say the seniors make you drink a ton, force you to do party tricks, put you through initiation hazing and everything...."

"If it's too much, just tell the seniors and bow out gracefully."

"H-how am I supposed to say that?!"

Just then, an announcement echoed from the hallway.

Simon rose from his seat.

"Hm? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠What's going on?"

"Sounds like Student Council business."

"Ah, I guess so."

As Simon threw a coat over his shirt and readied himself to head out, Toto swallowed his envy and waved.

"Take care."

"Once I'm done, I'll swing by the welcome party, even if it's late."

"N-no, don't! Stay at the Student Council as long as you can! Nothing good comes of coming back here. Got it?"

Simon let out a wry smile. "The proctor's an impatient one. I'll be back."

"Yeah!"

Simon stepped straight out of the room and strode down the stairs. The proctor was waiting for him in the lobby.

"Simon Polentia. You've received a summons from the school. Proceed to the Student Council Building at once."

"What's it about?"

"A Student Council convocation. You can confirm the details there."

Simon nodded and set off at once. He was just pushing open the door to step outside when—

"Simon Polentia."

Hector was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting for him. Simon jumped and opened his mouth.

"Ah, Hector. It's been a wh—"

"Spare me the pleasantries."

Hector pushed off the wall and straightened up.

"Planning to pick a fight with the seniors already?"

"...Where's this coming from all of a sudden?"

"The third-year seniors don't look kindly on a second-year Student Council President. If the President skips out of a party the seniors are hosting, using council work as his excuse, you can bet they'll think all the worse of you for it."

"......"

Hector continued calmly.

"From what I hear, that seat is only yours for a few months anyway, before Senior Eisel returns to take it back. If you're thinking long-term, you should be able to do the math on which side is the smarter investment."

Simon smiled faintly.

"Months or weeks, this is a duty that's been handed to me. I can't pretend I didn't hear the call."

"......"

He'd said his piece, but Simon had expected Hector to come at him more heavy-handedly. After all, Hector was the second-year department representative, and it was his job to make sure every single student attended the welcome party.

But instead—

"Suit yourself."

Hector turned on his heel and walked off, cool as anything.

"But the fallout's yours to deal with."

Thunk.

The dormitory door swung shut. Simon pulled his collar tight as he gazed out at the darkening garden. Best be off, then.

Even as darkness settled over the second-year campus, it still glittered, thanks to the streetlamps fitted with mana lights.

Having arrived at the campus without incident, Simon made his way to the Student Council Building at its center.

"We've been waiting for you, Mr. President."

The henchman waiting at the entrance bowed his head.

"The lounge first, please. Everyone is waiting."

Simon followed him to the lit lounge on the first floor. When he opened the door and stepped inside, familiar faces greeted him.

"Ah, Simon! You're here!"

Camibarez fluttered her adorable little wings in welcome. Meilin and Dick, whose expressions had been a bit stiff, visibly brightened at the sight of him too.

"There he is, Prez."

"Hey! My best buddy!"

Dick held out a fist, and Simon bumped it.

"Hey, everyone."

"Heheh. Wow, seriously." Dick snickered. "It's only been a few hours since we last saw each other—why's everyone so happy?"

"Exactly!"

Camibarez nodded her frozen head in agreement. Simon plopped down onto a sofa with an audible exhale.

"And right off the bat today, I've got Student Council work."

"Yep, yep. They said to wait here for a bit while they tidy up the council room," Meilin said. Simon leaned back and looked at his friends.

"How's the mood in everyone's departments?"

The moment Simon brought up the topic—

"It was SO awkward, SO SO awkward!"

"Scary! The seniors are insanely full of themselves and terrifying!"

"Pfft, Jet-Black Mechanics is a mild flavor. Poison Studies is nothing but complete lunatics!"

"And my department rep senior—!"

"Listen! Everyone, just listen to me first!"

Talk burst out of them like water from a broken dam. Simon smiled wryly.

"One at a time, please."