The Dock at Dawn
Dawn, the next morning. Having stopped by the bookstore and the necromancer's shop to pick up supplies, then spent the night at an inn near the harbor, Simon rubbed his sleepy eyes as he made his way to the pier where everyone was to gather. The indigo sky was slowly lightening, and the dawn air carried a chill, so he walked with a light robe draped over his shoulders. At the pier visible in the distance, henchmen were making the final preparations for departure. And in the alleys around the pier, boys and girls stood out where the sea breeze could reach them. There was still time before assembly, but they must not have been able to sleep, because they'd all come out early to wait. I understand exactly how they feel.
As Simon passed by them, a male student suddenly spoke up. "Hey, it's not assembly time yet." He must have assumed Simon was a freshman. Simon answered with a smile. "I appreciate the heads-up, but I'm staff. It's fine." "Staff?" The freshman looked at Simon's face and snorted. "What kind of act is that supposed to be? Quit talking nonsense and come over here and chat. Where in the world did you say you were from—" But Simon was already walking on toward the pier. The freshman let out a baffled shout of "Hey!"
"You've arrived, sir." The moment Simon actually stepped onto the pier, every henchman bent at the waist in unison to bow. Even more than that— "You're here early!" A man in an impeccably elegant Kizen uniform came running up and clasped Simon's hand. Simon shook his hand and glanced back. He could see the freshman standing there with a blank, dumbfounded expression. "See you in a bit." With those words, Simon vanished. The freshman's face turned ashen. …He really was a senior! Ugh, and school hasn't even started yet. This is shaping up great.
"Mr. Student Council President, making friends with the juniors already?" A Kizen staff member asked teasingly. Simon laughed sheepishly in return. "I'd like to, but it's not easy. How are the boarding preparations going?" "Going smoothly. The Underworld Whale departed not long ago either. In an hour, we'll verify the students' enrollment certificates and get them on the ship." Snap! Simon took the documents from the staff member. It was the roster of everyone traveling by Underworld Whale today. Three hundred seats. Their names ran down the page in a long list. When Simon spotted the name of Heidi, the girl he'd met at the bookstore yesterday, he smiled. "Someone you know on the list?" The staff member asked, having noticed his reaction. "Yes, actually. Ah—but this is just personal curiosity." "Go ahead, President." Simon scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Do I really look that much like a freshman?" "…" The staff member paused for a moment, then burst out laughing. Pfft! "Well—hahaha! Honestly, sir, you could stand right in the middle of that crowd of freshmen over there and nobody would be able to pick you out!"
Hmm. Simon studied his own reflection in the window of the ship moored at the pier. Freshmen who spoke to him casually and assumed he was their own age. Freshmen who wouldn't even believe him when he told them outright he was a second-year. He was the Student Council President, the representative of the entire student body, so a certain gravitas would have been nice to have. And this face, admittedly, did not carry that kind of weight.
After finishing his checks on the paperwork, Simon went aboard the ship himself to inspect its condition. He gave instructions to shore up a few deficiencies, and as he was heading back out, dawn was gradually breaking and assembly time had arrived. A female henchman, changed into a Kizen-marked uniform, stepped forward holding a list. She brought a voice-amplifying crystal to her lips. "We will now begin the boarding procedures! Freshmen, please have the letter and enrollment certificate you received from Kizen ready, and form a single line!" The freshmen who had been loitering nearby swarmed together as if they'd been waiting for exactly this. Every single face was brimming with excitement and anticipation. Standing in a line alone seemed to delight them; wobbly little smiles kept escaping their lips. Everyone, welcome.
Simon, too, had shed his robe and stood in his Kizen uniform, the Student Council armband on his sleeve, watching the scene from a short distance away. "Um, what should I be doing?" He asked the staff member next to him. "You, Mr. President, get to stand here quietly with me and watch." "Excuse me?" "That's what being the person in charge means, isn't it? Haha!" Simon stared blankly at him, and the man shrugged. "If an emergency or crisis breaks out, you step in and protect the students and us. Other than that, you keep the students in line. That's the leader's job, after all." In a word: nothing to do.
"Rickerman McNeill. Confirmed." "Dundley Shamilan. Confirmed." The henchmen lined the freshmen up, and a uniformed henchman at the center checked each enrollment notice and ticked it off with a quill. Students who passed without incident were directed aboard by the henchmen and seated from the very back row forward. Watching the freshmen crane their necks and roll their eyes all over the place, Simon couldn't help the doting smile that crept onto his face. They were only a single year his juniors—why did they all look so adorable?
"One hundred aboard!" A third of the whole process was already done. No accidents, no problems, so Simon waited calmly— "Mr. Student Council President!" A henchman came scrambling out of the ship. "Apologies, but one of the students is causing a disturbance—!" "On my way." Finally, actual work. Simon strode into the ship. A blonde girl in a bright, flowery dress was shouting furiously at the henchmen. "You're seating me in a filthy spot like this? This is an affront to my entire family!" Small in stature, but her voice carried. Two henchmen stood in front of her, utterly at a loss. "We would ask that you not cause a scene in here." "A scene? How dare they let me in after all Kizen's groveling, and then humiliate me? Is House Postad a joke to you? Bring me the person in charge this instant!"
Simon sighed and approached her. "What seems to be the problem?" The henchmen, who had been fidgeting helplessly, brightened the moment they saw him. The girl, who had been shouting herself hoarse, shot back a haughty reply. "Hmph! Are you the one in charge?" "I am. If you have a complaint, tell me." "Look here! Look!" She jabbed her fingertip at it. A tear so tiny it was barely visible on the ship's seat, with a bit of stuffing poking out. "See that? Seating the daughter of House Postad in a spot like this! This is a grievous insult to my family!" "Um—" The henchman was sweating buckets, glancing around nervously. Not at the freshman, of course. At Simon. "This is Simon Polentia, the Student Council President of Kizen." "!" At those words, her eyelids flickered once—but backing down here was simply not something her personality would permit. "S-So what if he's Student Council President? Isn't family what really matters in the end? Polentia? Never heard of it! How dare you, in front of a ducal house—" "Apologize." The students who had gathered to watch parted to either side. Simon turned quietly around as well. Not in her usual glamorous gown, but in modest everyday clothes with her wavy hair loose, Princess Molly was walking toward them.
"P-Princess Molly…!" The protesting girl's eyes went wide as saucers. "You dishonor the Kingdom of Dresden past all bearing." Molly's voice was colder than anything Simon had ever heard from her. "Princess! I—that is—!" "Silence." The face of the boldly protesting freshman drained to an extreme pallor. Her hands trembled violently, as if stricken with palsy. "Irreverence toward the Student Council President will not be forgiven." So saying, Molly turned and looked Simon squarely in the eye. And then— "On behalf of the royal house of Dresden, I apologize for the discourtesy of one of my subjects. Senior." She bowed at the waist, lowering her head with the utmost formality. Murmurs on the verge of eruption burst out from every corner. Wh-whoa. That startled me. An apology from the princess of an entire nation. The Simon of a year ago would have panicked and insisted she raise her head at once—but this was an official occasion, and he was here not as Simon Polentia but in his capacity as Kizen's Student Council President. That meant refusing the apology would be a breach of etiquette—and at the same time, the authority of the office had to be upheld. Simon answered with his head held high and his dignity intact. "I accept your apology."
"Ah…" The freshman looked back and forth between the two of them, stunned. Molly raised her head and spoke sharply. "You will apologize to him as well." Princess Molly, the highest-ranking Dresden student present, had bowed her head—no ducal house could possibly hold out after that. Doing so would itself be an insult to the royal family. In the end, the freshman, face crimson with humiliation and eyes brimming with tears, bowed her head to Simon. Her neck was so stiff the bow barely moved at all—she creaked into the posture like a rusted hinge. "I—I—I apologize, Student Council President, senior." And since propriety demanded she bow even lower than Molly had, her head ended up nearly touching the floor. "I'm letting this go for now, out of respect for the Princess's dignity." Simon said quietly, smiling as he rested a hand on her shoulder. "But there won't be a second time." The freshman, face bone-white, hiccupped.
Simon and Molly stepped away for a moment, out of the students' sight, to the ship's railing. "I'm so terribly sorry, senior." Molly bowed her head. "It should have been you who scolded her, and I went and butted in—" "No, no, Princess! I'm truly grateful you stepped in." Once it was a private moment, Simon returned to his usual self. "It would have been stranger if you hadn't intervened. Things worked out well thanks to you." "Thank you for saying so." The awkward air melted away at once, and the two of them fell into easy conversation. "I was shocked when I heard the news! Student Council President in your second year—!" "That's exactly why the headaches never stop. Haha." Simon scratched the side of his head, embarrassed. Molly watched him for a moment, then spoke. "Senior." "Yes, Princess?" She stared down at her own feet, her cheeks flushing—then worked up the courage to open her mouth. "The truth is, I—"
At that moment, a voice rang down from a second-floor window. "Mr. Student Council President!" Simon looked up to see a henchman waving. "A fight's broken out among the freshmen! Could you come quickly—!" "Y-yes! Right there!" Simon darted off at once, glancing back at Molly. "Sorry, Princess! Looks like there's trouble." "Hohoho, n-not at all. Go take care of business, senior!" Molly waved after his retreating figure. Then she glared up at the second floor with a wounded expression, before letting out a resigned little laugh and returning to her place.
At some point, Rick had once said this: —Second-years at Kizen get squeezed in the middle and just suffer. The third-years bear down on them from above, and the thoughtless first-years grind them down from below. Only today did Simon truly understand what he'd meant. "Hey! That's mine!" "Stop iiiit!" "Let go of that!" What a circus. Simon chuckled to himself. Just a little, he now understood the look his own seniors used to give his class. In the short time since boarding, the fights had been endless. At first the freshmen had seemed like adorable, cheeping little chicks—but now they looked like miniature demons liable to cause disaster at any moment. It's the exact same situation as last year, and yet how differently it looks depending on which side of it you're standing on. Fascinating. Simon ended the reverie and returned to reality.
"He hit me first!" "Liar! This bastard insulted my hometown first!" Boys from neighboring territories of the Carlos Kingdom had gotten into it. Simon grabbed the two and pried them apart. Well, our class was probably like this as freshmen too, right? The Class A kids, unable to shake their aristocratic habits, used to treat the TAs like servants—and got thoroughly schooled for it, time and again. Nothing to be done. For the 'nobility act' to wear off at Kizen, only time could be the cure.
Screech! Screech! The two chicks, faces clamped in Simon's grip, kept squirming and squaring up for more even as he held them back. "Enough." At Simon's frosty voice, both boys froze. One was already streaming blood from his nose; the other's cheek was blazing red. "Keep fighting, you morons!" "Beef matches are more fun anyway!" "Hahahaha!" A few students from high-ranking families were snickering and egging the fight on. Simon cast a frigid glance toward the seats. "Everyone, shut your mouths." The crowd went silent in an instant. Simon turned his head and addressed the henchman. "Have the student in the worst seat on the first floor trade places with this one." "Yes, sir, Mr. President!" "And bring medicine and a potion right away. Treatment first, please." "Understood."
The freshmen hadn't yet shed their pampered aristocratic airs. Within the academy, they were expected to bow their heads to seniors and TAs even if those people were commoners—but they didn't know the rules yet, and even those who knew them couldn't accept them. So Simon had just gained a fresh insight into how to keep them in check, at least for now. Watching Molly bring the ducal daughter to heel earlier had given him the hint. "Kingdom of Carlos." Simon called out. The freshmen blinked at him, not understanding—until a male henchman frowned and repeated it. "Students of the Kingdom of Carlos. Answer." "Yes, sir!" Only then did the Carlos freshmen answer in loud voices. Simon continued. "The student from Carlos whose father, as far as you know, holds the highest position. Stand up." The freshmen exchanged wary glances as a black-haired boy rose smoothly, as if it were obvious. At Simon's gesture, he hurried over.
Simon put a hand on his shoulder, turned him to face the crowd, and spoke quietly. "Name." "Verna Felton, sir!" The Feltons were a ducal house anyone would recognize. Perfect. "Good." Simon thumped his shoulder, and a look of wonder lit the boy's eyes. "A high-ranking house ought to show the dignity that comes with it, shouldn't it?" "Yes, sir! Absolutely." "If those two go at it again down there, you stop them." Simon smiled gently and extended his hand. "I'm entrusting this to you. Understood?" The words I'm entrusting this to you rang through him like a spell. A great swell of gratitude rose in the boy's eyes. "Leave it to me, Student Council President, senior! If those little wretches fight again, I'll—" "That doesn't mean intimidate or bully your classmates. Step out of line, and you'll be summoned to the Student Council. Understood?" "I won't forget it!" Believing he had won the Student Council President's trust, the freshman strode back with proud, confident steps. He hadn't overheard their conversation, but the envious stares of the other students were fixed squarely on him.
Haaa, that should do for now. It was exhausting, but at least he had some idea now of how to manage the freshmen in the early weeks of the term. He was sitting down for a short rest when a henchman sidled over and handed him a cool glass of juice. "Ah, thank you." Simon, who'd been thirsty anyway, was gulping the juice down when the henchman gave him a thumbs-up. "You're remarkably good at this, sir. I'd believe it if you told me you'd been Student Council President last year too." At that, Simon burst out laughing. "I'm a second-year." "Sure you are."
But the rest didn't last long. After trading a few words with the henchman, Simon glanced toward the far end. By the pier. Something appeared to have gone wrong during the enrollment certificate checks. That's an annual event too, apparently. Simon gave a wry smile. He'd rested yesterday, so it seemed today he'd be putting in the hours. Shall we, then. The moment Simon rose, the freshmen around him hastily scrambled to clear a path.